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diff --git a/27597-h/27597-h.htm b/27597-h/27597-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..44fafb9 --- /dev/null +++ b/27597-h/27597-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10929 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The English Utilitarians, by Leslie Stephen. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +.scs {text-align: center; font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 2em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +div.centered {text-align: center;} /* work around for IE centering with + CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; + text-align: left;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 2 */ +.tdr {text-align: right; font-size: .9em;} +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdc {text-align: center;} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +a {text-decoration: none;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes { text-align: left; margin-top: 1.5em;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 83%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .7em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The English Utilitarians, Volume I., by Leslie Stephen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The English Utilitarians, Volume I. + +Author: Leslie Stephen + +Release Date: December 23, 2008 [EBook #27597] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH UTILITARIANS, VOLUME I *** + + + + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Paul Dring, Henry Craig and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE ENGLISH UTILITARIANS</h1> + +<p class="center"> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>By</i> +</p> + +<h2>LESLIE STEPHEN</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"><br /><br /> +<img src="images/i001a.jpg" width="100" height="107" alt="logo" title="logo" /> +<br /><br /> +</div> + +<p class="center">LONDON<br /><br /> +<i>DUCKWORTH and CO.</i><br /><br /> +3 HENRIETTA STREET, W.C.<br /><br /> +1900</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> +This book is a sequel to my <i>History of English Thought in the +Eighteenth Century</i>. The title which I then ventured to use was more +comprehensive than the work itself deserved: I felt my inability to +write a continuation which should at all correspond to a similar title +for the nineteenth century. I thought, however, that by writing an +account of the compact and energetic school of English Utilitarians I +could throw some light both upon them and their contemporaries. I had +the advantage for this purpose of having been myself a disciple of the +school during its last period. Many accidents have delayed my +completion of the task; and delayed also its publication after it was +written. Two books have been published since that time, which partly +cover the same ground; and I must be content with referring my readers +to them for further information. They are <i>The English Radicals</i>, by +Mr. C. B. Roylance Kent; and <i>English Political Philosophy from Hobbes +to Maine</i>, by Professor Graham.</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="60%" cellspacing="4" summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#INTRODUCTORY">INTRODUCTORY</a></td> + <td class="tdr">1</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdc"><br /><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a><br /><br />POLITICAL CONDITIONS</td> + <td></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#I_I">The British Constitution</a></td> + <td class="tdr">12</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#I_II">The Ruling Class</a></td> + <td class="tdr">18</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#I_III">Legislation and Administration</a></td> + <td class="tdr">22</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#I_IV">The Army and Navy</a></td> + <td class="tdr">30</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#I_V">The Church</a></td> + <td class="tdr">35</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#I_VI">The Universities</a></td> + <td class="tdr">43</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#I_VII">Theory</a></td> + <td class="tdr">51</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdc"><br /><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a><br /><br />THE INDUSTRIAL SPIRIT</td> + <td></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#II_I">The Manufacturers</a></td> + <td class="tdr">57</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#II_II">The Agriculturists</a></td> + <td class="tdr">69</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdc"><br /><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a><br /><br />SOCIAL PROBLEMS</td> + <td></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#III_I">Pauperism</a></td> + <td class="tdr">87</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#III_II">The Police</a></td> + <td class="tdr">99</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#III_III">Education</a></td> + <td class="tdr">108</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#III_IV">The Slave-Trade</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></td> + <td class="tdr">113</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#III_V">The French Revolution</a></td> + <td class="tdr">121</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#III_VI">Individualism</a></td> + <td class="tdr">130</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdc"><br /><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a><br /><br />PHILOSOPHY</td> + <td></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#IV_I">John Horne Tooke</a></td> + <td class="tdr">137</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#IV_II">Dugald Stewart</a></td> + <td class="tdr">142</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdc"><br /><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a><br /><br />BENTHAM'S LIFE</td> + <td></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#V_I">Early Life</a></td> + <td class="tdr">169</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#V_II">First Writings</a></td> + <td class="tdr">175</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#V_III">The Panopticon</a></td> + <td class="tdr">193</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#V_IV">Utilitarian Propaganda</a></td> + <td class="tdr">206</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#V_V">Codification</a></td> + <td class="tdr">222</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdc"><br /><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a><br /><br />BENTHAM'S DOCTRINE</td> + <td></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VI_I">First Principles</a></td> + <td class="tdr">235</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VI_II">Springs of Action</a></td> + <td class="tdr">249</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VI_III">The Sanctions</a></td> + <td class="tdr">255</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VI_IV">Criminal Law</a></td> + <td class="tdr">263</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VI_V">English Law</a></td> + <td class="tdr">271</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VI_VI">Radicalism</a></td> + <td class="tdr">282</td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdr">VII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VI_VII">Individualism</a></td> + <td class="tdr">307</td> + </tr> +<tr><td colspan="5"> </td></tr> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#NOTE_ON_BENTHAMS_WRITINGS">NOTE ON BENTHAM'S WRITINGS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">319</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTORY" id="INTRODUCTORY"></a>INTRODUCTORY</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> +The English Utilitarians of whom I am about to give some account were +a group of men who for three generations had a conspicuous influence +upon English thought and political action. Jeremy Bentham, James Mill, +and John Stuart Mill were successively their leaders; and I shall +speak of each in turn. It may be well to premise a brief indication of +the method which I have adopted. I have devoted a much greater +proportion of my work to biography and to consideration of political +and social conditions than would be appropriate to the history of a +philosophy. The reasons for such a course are very obvious in this +case, inasmuch as the Utilitarian doctrines were worked out with a +constant reference to practical applications. I think, indeed, that +such a reference is often equally present, though not equally +conspicuous, in other philosophical schools. But in any case I wish to +show how I conceive the relation of my scheme to the scheme more +generally adopted by historians of abstract speculation.</p> + +<p>I am primarily concerned with the history of a school or sect, not +with the history of the arguments by which it justifies itself in the +court of pure reason. I must therefore consider the creed as it was +actually embodied in the dominant beliefs of the adherents of the +school, not as it was expounded in lecture-rooms or +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> treatises on +first principles. I deal not with philosophers meditating upon Being +and not-Being, but with men actively engaged in framing political +platforms and carrying on popular agitations. The great majority even +of intelligent partisans are either indifferent to the philosophic +creed of their leaders or take it for granted. Its postulates are more +or less implied in the doctrines which guide them in practice, but are +not explicitly stated or deliberately reasoned out. Not the less the +doctrines of a sect, political or religious, may be dependent upon +theories which for the greater number remain latent or are recognised +only in their concrete application. Contemporary members of any +society, however widely they differ as to results, are employed upon +the same problems and, to some extent, use the same methods and make +the same assumptions in attempting solutions. There is a certain unity +even in the general thought of any given period. Contradictory views +imply some common ground. But within this wider unity we find a +variety of sects, each of which may be considered as more or less +representing a particular method of treating the general problem: and +therefore principles which, whether clearly recognised or not, are +virtually implied in their party creed and give a certain unity to +their teaching.</p> + +<p>One obvious principle of unity, or tacit bond of sympathy which holds +a sect together depends upon the intellectual idiosyncrasy of the +individuals. Coleridge was aiming at an important truth when he said +that every man was born an Aristotelian or a Platonist.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Nominalists +and realists, intuitionists and empiricists, idealists and +materialists, represent different forms of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +a fundamental antithesis +which appears to run through all philosophy. Each thinker is apt to +take the postulates congenial to his own mind as the plain dictates of +reason. Controversies between such opposites appear to be hopeless. +They have been aptly compared by Dr. Venn to the erection of a +snow-bank to dam a river. The snow melts and swells the torrent which +it was intended to arrest. Each side reads admitted truths into its +own dialect, and infers that its own dialect affords the only valid +expression. To regard such antitheses as final and insoluble would be +to admit complete scepticism. What is true for one man would not +therefore be true—or at least its truth would not be demonstrable—to +another. We must trust that reconciliation is achievable by showing +that the difference is really less vital and corresponds to a +difference of methods or of the spheres within which each mode of +thought may be valid. To obtain the point of view from which such a +conciliation is possible should be, I hold, one main end of modern +philosophising.</p> + +<p>The effect of this profound intellectual difference is complicated by +other obvious influences. There is, in the first place, the difference +of intellectual horizon. Each man has a world of his own and sees a +different set of facts. Whether his horizon is that which is visible +from his parish steeple or from St. Peter's at Rome, it is still +strictly limited: and the outside universe, known vaguely and +indirectly, does not affect him like the facts actually present to his +perception. The most candid thinkers will come to different +conclusions when they are really provided with different sets of fact. +In political and social problems every man's opinions are +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +moulded by +his social station. The artisan's view of the capitalist, and the +capitalist's view of the artisan, are both imperfect, because each has +a first-hand knowledge of his own class alone: and, however anxious to +be fair, each will take a very different view of the working of +political institutions. An apparent concord often covers the widest +divergence under the veil of a common formula, because each man has +his private mode of interpreting general phrases in terms of concrete +fact.</p> + +<p>This, of course, implies the further difference arising from the +passions which, however illogically, go so far to determine opinions. +Here we have the most general source of difficulty in considering the +actual history of a creed. We cannot limit ourselves to the purely +logical factor. All thought has to start from postulates. Men have to +act before they think: before, at any rate, reasoning becomes distinct +from imagining or guessing. To explain in early periods is to fancy +and to take a fancy for a perception. The world of the primitive man +is constructed not only from vague conjectures and hasty analogies but +from his hopes and fears, and bears the impress of his emotional +nature. When progress takes place some of his beliefs are confirmed, +some disappear, and others are transformed: and the whole history of +thought is a history of this gradual process of verification. We +begin, it is said, by assuming: we proceed by verifying, and we only +end by demonstrating. The process is comparatively simple in that part +of knowledge which ultimately corresponds to the physical sciences. +There must be a certain harmony between beliefs and realities in +regard to knowledge of ordinary matters of fact, if only because such +harmony is essential +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +to the life of the race. Even an ape must +distinguish poisonous from wholesome food. Beliefs as to physical +facts require to be made articulate and distinct; but we have only to +recognise as logical principles the laws of nature which we have +unconsciously obeyed and illustrated—to formulate dynamics long after +we have applied the science in throwing stones or using bows and +arrows. But what corresponds to this in the case of the moral and +religious beliefs? What is the process of verification? Men +practically are satisfied with their creed so long as they are +satisfied with the corresponding social order. The test of truth so +suggested is obviously inadequate: for all great religions, however +contradictory to each other, have been able to satisfy it for long +periods. Particular doctrines might be tested by experiment. The +efficacy of witchcraft might be investigated like the efficacy of +vaccination. But faith can always make as many miracles as it wants: +and errors which originate in the fancy cannot be at once extirpated +by the reason. Their form may be changed but not their substance. To +remove them requires not disproof of this or that fact, but an +intellectual discipline which is rare even among the educated classes. +A religious creed survives, as poetry or art survives,—not so long as +it contains apparently true statements of fact but—so long as it is +congenial to the whole social state. A philosophy indeed is a poetry +stated in terms of logic. Considering the natural conservatism of +mankind, the difficulty is to account for progress, not for the +persistence of error. When the existing order ceases to be +satisfactory; when conquest or commerce has welded nations together +and brought conflicting creeds into cohesion; when industrial +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +development has modified the old class relations; or when the +governing classes have ceased to discharge their functions, new +principles are demanded and new prophets arise. The philosopher may +then become the mouthpiece of the new order, and innocently take +himself to be its originator. His doctrines were fruitless so long as +the soil was not prepared for the seed. A premature discovery if not +stamped out by fire and sword is stifled by indifference. If Francis +Bacon succeeded where Roger Bacon failed, the difference was due to +the social conditions, not to the men. The cause of the great +religious as well as of the great political revolutions must be sought +mainly in the social history. New creeds spread when they satisfy the +instincts or the passions roused to activity by other causes. The +system has to be so far true as to be credible at the time; but its +vitality depends upon its congeniality as a whole to the aspirations +of the mass of mankind.</p> + +<p>The purely intellectual movement no doubt represents the decisive +factor. The love of truth in the abstract is probably the weakest of +human passions; but truth when attained ultimately gives the fulcrum +for a reconstruction of the world. When a solid core of ascertained +and verifiable truth has once been formed and applied to practical +results it becomes the fixed pivot upon which all beliefs must +ultimately turn. The influence, however, is often obscure and still +indirect. The more cultivated recognise the necessity of bringing +their whole doctrine into conformity with the definitely organised and +established system; and, at the present day, even the uneducated begin +to have an inkling of possible results. Yet the desire for logical +consistency is not one which presses +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +forcibly upon the less +cultivated intellects. They do not feel the necessity of unifying +knowledge or bringing their various opinions into consistency and into +harmony with facts. There are easy methods of avoiding any troublesome +conflict of belief. The philosopher is ready to show them the way. He, +like other people, has to start from postulates, and to see how they +will work. When he meets with a difficulty it is perfectly legitimate +that he should try how far the old formula can be applied to cover the +new applications. He may be led to a process of 'rationalising' or +'spiritualising' which is dangerous to intellectual honesty. The +vagueness of the general conceptions with which he is concerned +facilitates the adaptation; and his words slide into new meanings by +imperceptible gradations. His error is in taking a legitimate +tentative process for a conclusive test; and inferring that opinions +are confirmed because a non-natural interpretation can be forced upon +them. This, however, is only the vicious application of the normal +process through which new ideas are diffused or slowly infiltrate the +old systems till the necessity of a thoroughgoing reconstruction +forces itself upon our attention. Nor can it be denied that an +opposite fallacy is equally possible, especially in times of +revolutionary passion. The apparent irreconcilability of some new +doctrine with the old may lead to the summary rejection of the +implicit truth, together with the error involved in its imperfect +recognition. Hence arises the necessity for faking into account not +only a man's intellectual idiosyncrasies and the special intellectual +horizon, but all the prepossessions due to his personal character, his +social environment, and his consequent sympathies and antipathies. The +philosopher has +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +his passions like other men. He does not really live +in the thin air of abstract speculation. On the contrary, he starts +generally, and surely is right in starting, with keen interest in the +great religious, ethical, and social problems of the time. He +wishes—honestly and eagerly—to try them by the severest tests, and +to hold fast only what is clearly valid. The desire to apply his +principles in fact justifies his pursuit, and redeems him from the +charge that he is delighting in barren intellectual subtleties. But to +an outsider his procedure may appear in a different light. His real +problem comes to be: how the conclusions which are agreeable to his +emotions can be connected with the postulates which are congenial to +his intellect? He may be absolutely honest and quite unconscious that +his conclusions were prearranged by his sympathies. No philosophic +creed of any importance has ever been constructed, we may well +believe, without such sincerity and without such plausibility as +results from its correspondence to at least some aspects of the truth. +But the result is sufficiently shown by the perplexed controversies +which arise. Men agree in their conclusions, though starting from +opposite premises; or from the same premises reach the most diverging +conclusions. The same code of practical morality, it is often said, is +accepted by thinkers who deny each other's first principles; dogmatism +often appears to its opponents to be thoroughgoing scepticism in +disguise, and men establish victoriously results which turn out in the +end to be really a stronghold for their antagonists.</p> + +<p>Hence there is a distinction between such a history of a sect as I +contemplate and a history of scientific inquiry or of pure philosophy. +A history of mathematical or +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +physical science would differ from a +direct exposition of the science, but only in so far as it would state +truths in the order of discovery, not in the order most convenient for +displaying them as a system. It would show what were the processes by +which they were originally found out, and how they have been +afterwards annexed or absorbed in some wider generalisation. These +facts might be stated without any reference to the history of the +discoverers or of the society to which they belonged. They would +indeed suggest very interesting topics to the general historian or +'sociologist.' He might be led to inquire under what conditions men +came to inquire scientifically at all; why they ceased for centuries +to care for science; why they took up special departments of +investigation; and what was the effect of scientific discoveries upon +social relations in general. But the two inquiries would be distinct +for obvious reasons. If men study mathematics they can only come to +one conclusion. They will find out the same propositions of geometry +if they only think clearly enough and long enough, as certainly as +Columbus would discover America if he only sailed far enough. America +was there, and so in a sense are the propositions. We may therefore in +this case entirely separate the two questions: what leads men to +think? and what conclusions will they reach? The reasons which guided +the first discoverers are just as valid now, though they can be more +systematically stated. But in the 'moral sciences' this distinction is +not equally possible. The intellectual and the social evolution are +closely and intricately connected, and each reacts upon the other. In +the last resort no doubt a definitive system of belief once elaborated +would repose upon universally +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +valid truths and determine, instead of +being determined by, the corresponding social order. But in the +concrete evolution which, we may hope, is approximating towards this +result, the creeds current among mankind have been determined by the +social conditions as well as helped to determine them. To give an +account of that process it is necessary to specify the various +circumstances which may lead to the survival of error, and to the +partial views of truth taken by men of different idiosyncrasies +working upon different data and moved by different passions and +prepossessions. A history written upon these terms would show +primarily what, as a fact, were the dominant beliefs during a given +period, and state which survived, which disappeared, and which were +transformed or engrafted upon other systems of thought. This would of +course raise the question of the truth or falsehood of the doctrines +as well as of their vitality: for the truth is at least one essential +condition of permanent vitality. The difference would be that the +problem would be approached from a different side. We should ask first +what beliefs have flourished, and afterwards ask why they flourished, +and how far their vitality was due to their partial or complete truth. +To write such a history would perhaps require an impartiality which +few people possess and which I do not venture to claim. I have my own +opinions for which other people may account by prejudice, assumption, +or downright incapacity. I am quite aware that I shall be implicitly +criticising myself in criticising others. All that I can profess is +that by taking the questions in this order, I shall hope to fix +attention upon one set of considerations which are apt, as I fancy, to +be unduly neglected. The result of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +reading some histories is to raise +the question: how people on the other side came to be such unmitigated +fools? Why were they imposed upon by such obvious fallacies? That may +be answered by considering more fully the conditions under which the +opinions were actually adopted, and one result may be to show that +those opinions had a considerable element of truth, and were held by +men who were the very opposite of fools. At any rate I shall do what I +can to write an account of this phase of thought, so as to bring out +what were its real tenets; to what intellectual type they were +naturally congenial; what were the limitations of view which affected +the Utilitarians' conception of the problems to be solved; and what +were the passions and prepossessions due to the contemporary state of +society and to their own class position, which to some degree +unconsciously dictated their conclusions. So far as I can do this +satisfactorily, I hope that I may throw some light upon the intrinsic +value of the creed, and the place which it should occupy in a +definitive system. +</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Table-Talk</i>, 3 July 1830.</p></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>POLITICAL CONDITIONS</h3> + +<p class="scs">I. <a name="I_I" id="I_I"></a>THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +The English Utilitarians represent one outcome of the speculations +current in England during the later part of the eighteenth century. +For the reasons just assigned I shall begin by briefly recalling some +of the social conditions which set the problems for the coming +generation and determined the mode of answering them. I must put the +main facts in evidence, though they are even painfully familiar. The +most obvious starting-point is given by the political situation. The +supremacy of parliament had been definitively established by the +revolution of 1688, and had been followed by the elaboration of the +system of party government. The centre of gravity of the political +world lay in the House of Commons. No minister could hold power unless +he could command a majority in this house. Jealousy of the royal +power, however, was still a ruling passion. The party line between +Whig and Tory turned ostensibly upon this issue. The essential Whig +doctrine is indicated by Dunning's famous resolution (6 April 1780) +that 'the power of the crown had increased, was increasing, and ought +to be diminished.' The resolution +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +was in one sense an anachronism. As +in many other cases, politicians seem to be elaborately slaying the +slain and guarding against the attacks of extinct monsters. There was +scarcely more probability under George <small>III.</small> than there is under +Victoria that the king would try to raise taxes without consent of +parliament. George <small>III.</small>, however, desired to be more than a +contrivance for fixing the great seal to official documents. He had +good reason for thinking that the weakness of the executive was an +evil. The king could gain power not by attacking the authority of +parliament but by gaining influence within its walls. He might form a +party of 'king's friends' able to hold the balance between the +connections formed by the great families and so break up the system of +party government. Burke's great speech (11 Feb. 1780) upon introducing +his plan 'for the better security of the independence of parliament +and the economical reformation of the civil and other establishments' +explains the secret and reveals the state of things which for the next +half century was to supply one main theme for the eloquence of +reformers. The king had at his disposal a vast amount of patronage. +There were relics of ancient institutions: the principality of Wales, +the duchies of Lancaster and Cornwall, and the earldom of Chester; +each with its revenue and establishment of superfluous officials. The +royal household was a complex 'body corporate' founded in the old days +of 'purveyance.' There was the mysterious 'Board of Green Cloth' +formed by the great officers and supposed to have judicial as well as +administrative functions. Cumbrous mediæval machinery thus remained +which had been formed in the time when the distinction between +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +a +public trust and private property was not definitely drawn or which +had been allowed to remain for the sake of patronage, when its +functions had been transferred to officials of more modern type. +Reform was foiled, as Burke put it, because the turnspit in the king's +kitchen was a member of parliament. Such sinecures and the pensions on +the civil list or the Irish establishment provided the funds by which +the king could build up a personal influence, which was yet occult, +irresponsible, and corrupt. The measure passed by Burke in 1782<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> +made a beginning in the removal of such abuses.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Whigs were conveniently blind to another side of the +question. If the king could buy, it was because there were plenty of +people both able and willing to sell. Bubb Dodington, a typical +example of the old system, had five or six seats at his disposal: +subject only to the necessity of throwing a few pounds to the 'venal +wretches' who went through the form of voting, and by dealing in what +he calls this 'merchantable ware' he managed by lifelong efforts to +wriggle into a peerage. The Dodingtons, that is, sold because they +bought. The 'venal wretches' were the lucky franchise-holders in +rotten boroughs. The 'Friends of the People'<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> in 1793 made the +often-repeated statement that 154 individuals returned 307 members, +that is, a majority of the house. In Cornwall, again, 21 boroughs with +453 electors controlled by about 15 individuals returned 42 +members,<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> or, with the two county members, only one member less than +Scotland; and the Scottish members were elected by close corporations +in boroughs +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +and by the great families in counties. No wonder if the +House of Commons seemed at times to be little more than an exchange +for the traffic between the proprietors of votes and the proprietors +of offices and pensions.</p> + +<p>The demand for the reforms advocated by Burke and Dunning was due to +the catastrophe of the American War. The scandal caused by the famous +coalition of 1783 showed that a diminution of the royal influence +might only make room for selfish bargains among the proprietors of +parliamentary influence. The demand for reform was taken up by Pitt. +His plan was significant. He proposed to disfranchise a few rotten +boroughs; but to soften this measure he afterwards suggested that a +million should be set aside to buy such boroughs as should voluntarily +apply for disfranchisement. The seats obtained were to be mainly added +to county representation; but the franchise was to be extended so as +to add about 99,000 voters in boroughs, and additional seats were to +be given to London and Westminster and to Manchester, Leeds, +Birmingham, and Sheffield. The Yorkshire reformers, who led the +movement, were satisfied with this modest scheme. The borough +proprietors were obviously too strong to be directly attacked, though +they might be induced to sell some of their power.</p> + +<p>Here was a mass of anomalies, sufficient to supply topics of +denunciation for two generations of reformers, and, in time, to excite +fears of violent revolution. Without undertaking the easy task of +denouncing exploded systems, we may ask what state of mind they +implied. Our ancestors were perfectly convinced that their political +system was of almost unrivalled excellence: they held that they were +freemen entitled to look down upon +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +foreigners as the slaves of +despots. Nor can we say that their satisfaction was without solid +grounds. The boasting about English freedom implied some +misunderstanding. But it was at least the boast of a vigorous race. +Not only were there individuals capable of patriotism and public +spirit, but the body politic was capable of continuous energy. During +the eighteenth century the British empire spread round the world. +Under Chatham it had been finally decided that the English race should +be the dominant element in the new world; if the political connection +had been severed by the bungling of his successors, the unbroken +spirit of the nation had still been shown in the struggle against +France, Spain, and the revolted colonies; and whatever may be thought +of the motives which produced the great revolutionary wars, no one can +deny the qualities of indomitable self-reliance and high courage to +the men who led the country through the twenty years of struggle +against France, and for a time against France with the continent at +its feet. If moralists or political theorists find much to condemn in +the ends to which British policy was directed, they must admit that +the qualities displayed were not such as can belong to a simply +corrupt and mean-spirited government.</p> + +<p>One obvious remark is that, on the whole, the system was a very good +one—as systems go. It allowed free play to the effective political +forces. Down to the revolutionary period, the nation as a whole was +contented with its institutions. The political machinery provided a +sufficient channel for the really efficient force of public opinion. +There was as yet no large class which at once had political +aspirations and was unable to gain a hearing. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +England was still in +the main an agricultural country: and the agricultural labourer was +fairly prosperous till the end of the century, while his ignorance and +isolation made him indifferent to politics. There might be a bad +squire or parson, as there might be a bad season; but squire and +parson were as much parts of the natural order of things as the +weather. The farmer or yeoman was not much less stolid; and his +politics meant at most a choice between allegiance to one or other of +the county families. If in the towns which were rapidly developing +there was growing up a discontented population, its discontent was not +yet directed into political channels. An extended franchise meant a +larger expenditure on beer, not the readier acceptance of popular +aspirations. To possess a vote was to have a claim to an occasional +bonus rather than a right to influence legislation. Practically, +therefore, parliament might be taken to represent what might be called +'public opinion,' for anything that deserved to be called public +opinion was limited to the opinions of the gentry and the more +intelligent part of the middle classes. There was no want of +complaints of corruption, proposals to exclude placemen from +parliament and the like; and in the days of Wilkes, Chatham, and +Junius, when the first symptoms of democratic activity began to affect +the political movement, the discontent made itself audible and +alarming. But a main characteristic of the English reformers was the +constant appeal to precedent, even in their most excited moods. They +do not mention the rights of man; they invoke the 'revolution +principles' of 1688; they insist upon the 'Bill of Rights' or Magna +Charta. When keenly roused they recall the fate of Charles <small>I.</small>; and +their +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +favourite toast is the cause for which Hampden died on the +field and Sidney on the scaffold. They believe in the jury as the +'palladium of our liberties'; and are convinced that the British +Constitution represents an unsurpassable though unfortunately an ideal +order of things, which must have existed at some indefinite period. +Chatham in one of his most famous speeches, appeals, for example, to +the 'iron barons' who resisted King John, and contrasts them with the +silken courtiers which now compete for place and pensions. The +political reformers of the time, like religious reformers in most +times, conceive of themselves only as demanding the restoration of the +system to its original purity, not as demanding its abrogation. In +other words, they propose to remedy abuses but do not as yet even +contemplate a really revolutionary change. Wilkes was not a 'Wilkite,' +nor was any of his party, if Wilkite meant anything like Jacobin.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> 22 George <small>III</small>. c. 82.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>Parl. Hist.</i> xxx. 787.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <i>State Trials</i>, xxiv. 382.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">II. <a name="I_II" id="I_II"></a>THE RULING CLASS</p> + +<p>Thus, however anomalous the constitution of parliament, there was no +thought of any far-reaching revolution. The great mass of the +population was too ignorant, too scattered and too poor to have any +real political opinions. So long as certain prejudices were not +aroused, it was content to leave the management of the state to the +dominant class, which alone was intelligent enough to take an interest +in public affairs and strong enough to make its interest felt. This +class consisted in the first place of the great landed interest. When +Lord North opposed Pitt's reform in 1785 he said<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> that the +Constitution +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +was 'the work of infinite wisdom ... the most beautiful +fabric that had ever existed since the beginning of time.' He added +that 'the bulk and weight' of the house ought to be in 'the hands of +the country-gentlemen, the best and most respectable objects of the +confidence of the people,' The speech, though intended to please an +audience of country-gentlemen, represented a genuine belief.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> The +country-gentlemen formed the class to which not only the +constitutional laws but the prevailing sentiment of the country gave +the lead in politics as in the whole social system. Even reformers +proposed to improve the House of Commons chiefly by increasing the +number of county-members, and a county-member was almost necessarily a +country-gentleman of an exalted kind. Although the country-gentleman +was very far from having all things his own way, his ideals and +prejudices were in a great degree the mould to which the other +politically important class conformed. There was indeed a growing +jealousy between the landholders and the 'monied-men.' Bolingbroke had +expressed this distrust at an earlier part of the century. But the +true representative of the period was his successful rival, Walpole, a +thorough country-gentleman who had learned to understand the mysteries +of finance and acquired the confidence of the city. The great +merchants of London and the rising manufacturers in the country were +rapidly growing in wealth and influence. The monied-men represented +the most active, energetic, and growing part of the body politic. +Their interests determined the direction of the national policy. The +great wars of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +century were undertaken in the interests of British +trade. The extension of the empire in India was carried on through a +great commercial company. The growth of commerce supported the +sea-power which was the main factor in the development of the empire. +The new industrial organisation which was arising was in later years +to represent a class distinctly opposed to the old aristocratic order. +At present it was in a comparatively subordinate position. The squire +was interested in the land and the church; the merchant thought more +of commerce and was apt to be a dissenter. But the merchant, in spite +of some little jealousies, admitted the claims of the +country-gentleman to be his social superior and political leader. His +highest ambition was to be himself admitted to the class or to secure +the admission of his family. As he became rich he bought a solid +mansion at Clapham or Wimbledon, and, if he made a fortune, might +become lord of manors in the country. He could not as yet aspire to +become himself a peer, but he might be the ancestor of peers. The son +of Josiah Child, the great merchant of the seventeenth century, became +Earl Tylney, and built at Wanstead one of the noblest mansions in +England. His contemporary Sir Francis Child, Lord Mayor, and a founder +of the Bank of England, built Osterley House, and was ancestor of the +earls of Jersey and Westmoreland. The daughter of Sir John Barnard, +the typical merchant of Walpole's time, married the second Lord +Palmerston. Beckford, the famous Lord Mayor of Chatham's day, was +father of the author of <i>Vathek</i>, who married an earl's daughter and +became the father of a duchess. The Barings, descendants of a German +pastor, settled in England early in the century +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +and became +country-gentlemen, baronets, and peers. Cobbett, who saw them rise, +reviled the stockjobbers who were buying out the old families. But the +process had begun long before his days, and meant that the heads of +the new industrial system were being absorbed into the class of +territorial magnates. That class represented the framework upon which +both political and social power was moulded.</p> + +<p>This implies an essential characteristic of the time. A familiar topic +of the admirers of the British Constitution was the absence of the +sharp lines of demarcation between classes and of the exclusive +aristocratic privileges which, in France, provoked the revolution. In +England the ruling class was not a 'survival': it had not retained +privileges without discharging corresponding functions. The essence of +'self-government,' says its most learned commentator,<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> is the +organic connection 'between State and society.' On the Continent, that +is, powers were intrusted to a centralised administrative and judicial +hierarchy, which in England were left to the class independently +strong by its social position. The landholder was powerful as a +product of the whole system of industrial and agricultural +development; and he was bound in return to perform arduous and +complicated duties. How far he performed them well is another +question. At least, he did whatever was done in the way of governing, +and therefore did not sink into a mere excrescence or superfluity. I +must try to point out certain results which had a material effect upon +English opinion in general and, in particular, upon the Utilitarians.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>Parl. Hist.</i> xxv. 472.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> The country-gentlemen, said Wilberforce in 1800, are the +'very nerves and ligatures of the body politic.'—<i>Correspondence</i>, i. +219.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Gneist's <i>Self-Government</i> (3rd edition, 1871), p. 879.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">III. <a name="I_III" id="I_III"></a>LEGISLATION AND ADMINISTRATION</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +The country-gentlemen formed the bulk of the law-making body, and the +laws gave the first point of assault of the Utilitarian movement. One +explanation is suggested by a phrase attributed to Sir Josiah +Child.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> The laws, he said, were a heap of nonsense, compiled by a +few ignorant country-gentlemen, who hardly knew how to make good laws +for the government of their own families, much less for the regulation +of companies and foreign commerce. He meant that the parliamentary +legislation of the century was the work of amateurs, not of +specialists; of an assembly of men more interested in immediate +questions of policy or personal intrigue than in general principles, +and not of such a centralised body as would set a value upon symmetry +and scientific precision. The country-gentleman had strong prejudices +and enough common sense to recognise his own ignorance. The product of +a traditional order, he clung to traditions, and regarded the old +maxims as sacred because no obvious reason could be assigned for them. +He was suspicious of abstract theories, and it did not even occur to +him that any such process as codification or radical alteration of the +laws was conceivable. For the law itself he had the profound +veneration which is expressed by Blackstone. It represented the +'wisdom of our ancestors'; the system of first principles, on which +the whole order of things reposed, and which must be regarded as an +embodiment of right reason. The common law was a tradition, not made +by express legislation, but somehow existing apart from any definite +embodiment, and revealed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +to certain learned hierophants. Any changes, +required by the growth of new social conditions, had to be made under +pretence of applying the old rules supposed to be already in +existence. Thus grew up the system of 'judge-made law,' which was to +become a special object of the denunciations of Bentham. Child had +noticed the incompetence of the country-gentlemen to understand the +regulation of commercial affairs. The gap was being filled up, without +express legislation, by judicial interpretations of Mansfield and his +fellows. This, indeed, marks a characteristic of the whole system. +'Our constitution,' says Professor Dicey,<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> 'is a judge-made +constitution, and it bears on its face all the features, good and bad, +of judge-made law.' The law of landed property, meanwhile, was of +vital and immediate interest to the country-gentleman. But, feeling +his own incompetence, he had called in the aid of the expert. The law +had been developed in mediæval times, and bore in all its details the +marks of the long series of struggles between king and nobles and +parliaments. One result had been the elaborate series of legal +fictions worked out in the conflict between private interests and +public policy, by which lawyers had been able to adapt the rules +fitted for an ancient state of society to another in which the very +fundamental conceptions were altered. A mysterious system had thus +grown up, which deterred any but the most resolute students. Of +Fearne's essay upon 'Contingent remainders'(published in 1772) it was +said that no work 'in any branch of science could afford a more +beautiful instance of analysis.' Fearne had shown the acuteness of 'a +Newton or a Pascal.' Other critics dispute this proposition; but in +any +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +case the law was so perplexing that it could only be fully +understood by one who united antiquarian knowledge to the subtlety of +a great logician. The 'vast and intricate machine,' as Blackstone +calls it, 'of a voluminous family settlement' required for its +explanation the dialectical skill of an accomplished schoolman. The +poor country-gentleman could not understand the terms on which he held +his own estate without calling in an expert equal to such a task. The +man who has acquired skill so essential to his employer's interests is +not likely to undervalue it or to be over anxious to simplify the +labyrinth in which he shone as a competent guide.</p> + +<p>The lawyers who played so important a part by their familiarity with +the mysteries of commercial law and landed property, naturally enjoyed +the respect of their clients, and were rewarded by adoption into the +class. The English barrister aspired to success by himself taking part +in politics and legislation. The only path to the highest positions +really open to a man of ability, not connected by blood with the great +families, was the path which led to the woolsack or to the judge's +bench. A great merchant might be the father or father-in-law of peers; +a successful soldier or sailor might himself become a peer, but +generally he began life as a member of the ruling classes, and his +promotion was affected by parliamentary influence. But a successful +lawyer might fight his way from a humble position to the House of +Lords. Thurlow, son of a country-gentleman; Dunning, son of a country +attorney; Ellenborough, son of a bishop and descendant of a long line +of North-country 'statesmen'; Kenyon, son of a farmer; Eldon, son of a +Newcastle coal merchant, represent the average career of a successful +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +barrister. Some of them rose to be men of political importance, and +Thurlow and Eldon had the advantage of keeping George <small>III</small>'s +conscience—an unruly faculty which had an unfortunately strong +influence upon affairs. The leaders of the legal profession, +therefore, and those who hoped to be leaders, shared the prejudices, +took a part in the struggles, and were rewarded by the honours of the +dominant class.</p> + +<p>The criminal law became a main topic of reformers. There, as +elsewhere, we have a striking example of traditional modes of thought +surviving with singular persistence. The rough classification of +crimes into felony and misdemeanour, and the strange technical rules +about 'benefit of clergy' dating back to the struggles of Henry <small>II.</small> +and Becket, remained like ultimate categories of thought. When the +growth of social conditions led to new temptations or the appearance +of a new criminal class, and particular varieties of crime became +conspicuous, the only remedy was to declare that some offence should +be 'felony without benefit of clergy,' and therefore punishable by +death. By unsystematic and spasmodic legislation the criminal law +became so savage as to shock every man of common humanity. It was +tempered by the growth of technical rules, which gave many chances of +escape to the criminal; and by practical revolt against its excesses, +which led to the remission of the great majority of capital +sentences.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> The legislators were clumsy, not intentionally cruel; +and the laws, though +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +sanguinary in reality, were more sanguinary in +theory than in practice. Nothing, on the other hand, is more +conspicuous than the spirit of fair play to the criminal, which struck +foreign observers.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> It was deeply rooted in the whole system. The +English judge was not an official agent of an inquisitorial system, +but an impartial arbitrator between the prisoner and the prosecutor. +In political cases especially a marked change was brought about by the +revolution of 1688. If our ancestors talked some nonsense about trial +by jury, the system certainly insured that the persons accused of +libel or sedition should have a fair trial, and very often something +more. Judges of the Jeffreys type had become inconceivable, though +impartiality might disappear in cases where the prejudices of juries +were actively aroused. Englishmen might fairly boast of their immunity +from the arbitrary methods of continental rulers; and their +unhesitating confidence in the fairness of the system became so +ingrained as to be taken as a matter of course, and scarcely received +due credit from later critics of the system.</p> + +<p>The country-gentleman, again, was not only the legislator but a most +important figure in the judicial and administrative system. As justice +of the peace, he was the representative of law and order to his +country neighbours. The preface of 1785 to the fifteenth edition of +Burn's <i>Justice of the Peace</i>, published originally in 1755, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +mentions +that in the interval between these dates, some three hundred statutes +had been passed affecting the duties of justices, while half as many +had been repealed or modified. The justice was of course, as a rule, a +superficial lawyer, and had to be prompted by his clerk, the two +representing on a small scale the general relation between the lawyers +and the ruling class. Burn tells the justice for his comfort that the +judges will take a lenient view of any errors into which his ignorance +may have led him. The discharge of such duties by an independent +gentleman was thought to be so desirable and so creditable to him that +his want of efficiency must be regarded with consideration. Nor, +though the justices have been a favourite butt for satirists, does it +appear that the system worked badly. When it became necessary to +appoint paid magistrates in London, and the pay, according to the +prevalent system, was provided by fees, the new officials became known +as 'trading justices,' and their salaries, as Fielding tells us, were +some of the 'dirtiest money upon earth.' The justices might perhaps be +hard upon a poacher (as, indeed, the game laws became one of the great +scandals of the system), or liable to be misled by a shrewd attorney; +but they were on the whole regarded as the natural and creditable +representatives of legal authority in the country.</p> + +<p>The justices, again, discharged functions which would elsewhere belong +to an administrative hierarchy, Gneist observes that the power of the +justices of the peace represents the centre of gravity of the whole +administrative system.<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> Their duties had become so multifarious +and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +perplexed that Burn could only arrange them under alphabetical +heads. Gneist works out a systematic account, filling many pages of +elaborate detail, and showing how large a part they played in the +whole social structure. An intense jealousy of central power was one +correlative characteristic. Blackstone remarks in his more liberal +humour that the number of new offices held at pleasure had greatly +extended the influence of the crown. This refers to the custom-house +officers, excise officers, stamp distributors and postmasters. But if +the tax-gatherer represented the state, he represented also part of +the patronage at the disposal of politicians. A voter was often in +search of the place of a 'tidewaiter'; and, as we know, the greatest +poet of the day could only be rewarded by making him an exciseman. Any +extension of a system which multiplied public offices was regarded +with suspicion. Walpole, the strongest minister of the century, had +been forced to an ignominious retreat when he proposed to extend the +excise. The cry arose that he meant to enslave the country and extend +the influence of the crown over all the corporations in England. The +country-gentleman had little reason to fear that government would +diminish his importance by tampering with his functions. The justices +of the peace were called upon to take a great and increasing share in +the administration of the poor-law. They were concerned in all manner +of financial details; they regulated such police as existed; they +looked after the old laws by which the trades were still restricted; +and, in theory at least, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +could fix the rate of wages. Parliament did +not override, but only gave the necessary sanction to their activity. +If we looked through the journals of the House of Commons during the +American War, for example, we should get the impression that the whole +business of the legislature was to arrange administrative details. If +a waste was to be enclosed, a canal or a highroad to be constructed, +there was no public department to be consulted. The gentry of the +neighbourhood joined to obtain a private act of parliament which gave +the necessary powers to the persons interested. No general enclosure +act could be passed, though often suggested. It would imply a central +commission, which would only, as was suggested, give rise to jobbery +and take power out of the natural hands. Parliament was omnipotent; it +could regulate the affairs of the empire or of a parish; alter the +most essential laws or act as a court of justice; settle the crown or +arrange for a divorce or for the alteration of a private estate. But +it objected to delegate authority even to a subordinate body, which +might tend to become independent. Thus, if it was the central power +and source of all legal authority, it might also be regarded as a kind +of federal league, representing the wills of a number of partially +independent persons. The gentry could meet there and obtain the +sanction of their allies for any measure required in their own little +sphere of influence. But they had an instinctive aversion to the +formation of any organised body representing the state. The +neighbourhood which wanted a road got powers to make it, and would +concur in giving powers to others. But if the state were to be +intrusted to make roads, ministers would have more +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +places to give, +and roads might be made which they did not want. The English roads had +long been infamous, but neither was money wasted, as in France, on +roads where there was no traffic.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> Thus we have the combination of +an absolute centralisation of legislative power with an utter absence +of administrative centralisation. The units meeting in parliament +formed a supreme assembly; but they did not sink their own +individuality. They only met to distribute the various functions among +themselves.</p> + +<p>The English parish with its squire, its parson, its lawyer and its +labouring population was a miniature of the British Constitution in +general. The squire's eldest son could succeed to his position; a +second son might become a general or an admiral; a third would take +the family living; a fourth, perhaps, seek his fortune at the bar. +This implies a conception of other political conditions which +curiously illustrate some contemporary conceptions.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> See <i>Dictionary of National Biography</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> <i>The Law of the Constitution</i>, p. 209.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> See Sir J. F. Stephen's <i>History of the Criminal Law</i> +(1883), i. 470. He quotes Blackstone's famous statement that there +were 160 felonies without benefit of clergy, and shows that this gives +a very uncertain measure of the severity of the law. A single act +making larceny in general punishable by death would be more severe +than fifty separate acts, making fifty different varieties of larceny +punishable by death. He adds, however, that the scheme of punishment +was 'severe to the highest degree, and destitute of every sort of +principle or system.' The number of executions in the early part of +this century varied apparently from a fifth to a ninth of the capital +sentences passed. See Table in Porter's <i>Progress of the Nation</i> +(1851), p. 635.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> See the references to Cottu's report of 1822 in +Stephen's <i>History</i>, i. 429, 439, 451. Cottu's book was translated by +Blanco White.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Gneist's <i>Self-Government</i> (1871), p. 194. It is +characteristic that J. S. Mill, in his <i>Representative Government</i>, +remarks that the 'Quarter Sessions' are formed in the 'most anomalous' +way; that they represent the old feudal principle, and are at variance +with the fundamental principles of representative government (<i>Rep. +Gov.</i> (1867), p. 113). The mainspring of the old system had become a +simple anomaly to the new radicalism.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> See Arthur Young, <i>passim</i>. There was, however, an +improvement even in the first half of the century. See Cunningham's +<i>Growth of English Industry, etc. (Modern Times)</i>, p. 378.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">IV. <a name="I_IV" id="I_IV"></a>THE ARMY AND NAVY</p> + +<p>We are often amused by the persistency of the cry against a 'standing +army' in England. It did not fairly die out until the revolutionary +wars. Blackstone regards it as a singularly fortunate circumstance +'that any branch of the legislature might annually put an end to the +legal existence of the army by refusing to concur in the continuance' +of the mutiny act. A standing army was obviously necessary; but by +making believe very hard, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +we could shut our eyes to the facts, and +pretend that it was a merely temporary arrangement.<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> The doctrine +had once had a very intelligible meaning. If James <small>II.</small> had possessed a +disciplined army of the continental pattern, with Marlborough at its +head, Marlborough would hardly have been converted by the prince of +Orange. But loyal as the gentry had been at the restoration, they had +taken very good care that the Stuarts should not have in their hand +such a weapon as had been possessed by Cromwell. When the Puritan army +was disbanded, they had proceeded to regulate the militia. The +officers were appointed by the lords-lieutenants of counties, and had +to possess a property qualification; the men raised by ballot in their +own districts; and their numbers and length of training regulated by +Act of Parliament. The old 'train-bands' were suppressed, except in +the city of London, and thus the recognised military force of the +country was a body essentially dependent upon the country gentry. The +militia was regarded with favour as the 'old constitutional force' +which could not be used to threaten our liberties. It was remodelled +during the Seven Years' War and embodied during that and all our later +wars. It was, however, ineffective by its very nature. An aristocracy +which chose to carry on wars must have a professional army in fact, +however careful it might be to pretend that it was a provision for a +passing necessity. The pretence had serious consequences. Since the +army was not to have interests separate from the people, there was no +reason for building barracks. The men might be billeted on publicans, +or placed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +under canvas, while they were wanted. When the great war +came upon us, large sums had to be spent to make up for the previous +neglect. Fox, on 22nd February 1793, protested during a lively debate +upon this subject that sound constitutional principles condemned +barracks, because to mix the army with the people was the 'best +security against the danger of a standing army.'<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> + +<p>In fact a large part of the army was a mere temporary force. In 1762, +towards the end of the Seven Years' War, we had about 100,000 men in +pay; and after the peace, the force was reduced to under 20,000. +Similar changes took place in every war. The ruling class took +advantage of the position. An army might be hired from Germany for the +occasion. New regiments were generally raised by some great man who +gave commissions to his own relations and dependants. When the +Pretender was in Scotland, for example, fifteen regiments were raised +by patriotic nobles, who gave the commissions, and stipulated that +although they were to be employed only in suppressing the rising, the +officers should have permanent rank.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> So, as was shown in Mrs. +Clarke's case, a patent for raising a regiment might be a source of +profit to the undertaker, who again might get it by bribing the +mistress of a royal duke. The officers had, according to the generally +prevalent system, a modified property in their commissions; and the +system of sale was not abolished till our own days. We may therefore +say that the ruling class, on the one hand, objected to a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +standing +army, and, on the other, since such an army was a necessity, farmed it +from the country and were admitted to have a certain degree of private +property in the concern. The prejudice against any permanent +establishment made it necessary to fill the ranks on occasion by all +manner of questionable expedients. Bounties were offered to attract +the vagrants who hung loose upon society. Smugglers, poachers, and the +like were allowed to choose between military service and +transportation. The general effect was to provide an army of +blackguards commanded by gentlemen. The army no doubt had its merits +as well as its defects. The continental armies which it met were +collected by equally demoralising methods until the French revolution +led to a systematic conscription. The bad side is suggested by +Napier's famous phrase, the 'cold shade of our aristocracy'; while +Napier gives facts enough to prove both the brutality too often shown +by the private soldier and the dogged courage which is taken to be +characteristic even of the English blackguard. By others,—by such men +as the duke of Wellington and Lord Palmerston, for example, types of +the true aristocrat—the system was defended<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> as bringing men of +good family into the army and so providing it, as the duke thought, +with the best set of officers in Europe. No doubt they and the royal +dukes who commanded them were apt to be grossly ignorant of their +business; but it may be admitted by a historian that they often showed +the qualities of which Wellington was himself a type. The English +officer was a gentleman before he was a soldier, and considered the +military virtues to be a part of his natural endowment. But it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +was +undoubtedly a part of his traditional code of honour to do his duty +manfully and to do it rather as a manifestation of his own spirit than +from any desire for rewards or decorations. The same quality is +represented more strikingly by the navy. The English admiral +represents the most attractive and stirring type of heroism in our +history. Nelson and the 'band of brothers' who served with him, the +simple and high-minded sailors who summed up the whole duty of man in +doing their best to crush the enemies of their country, are among the +finest examples of single-souled devotion to the calls of patriotism. +The navy, indeed, had its ugly side no less than the army. There was +corruption at Greenwich<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> and in the dockyards, and parliamentary +intrigue was a road to professional success. Voltaire notes the queer +contrast between the English boast of personal liberty and the +practice of filling up the crews by pressgangs. The discipline was +often barbarous, and the wrongs of the common sailor found sufficient +expression in the mutiny at the Nore. A grievance, however, which +pressed upon a single class was maintained from the necessity of the +case and the inertness of the administrative system. The navy did not +excite the same jealousy as the army; and the officers were more +professionally skilful than their brethren. The national qualities +come out, often in their highest form, in the race of great seamen +upon whom the security of the island power essentially depended.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> See <i>Military Forces of the Crown</i>, by Charles M. Clode +(1869), for a full account of the facts.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> <i>Parl. Hist.</i> xxx. 490. Clode states (i. 222) that +£9,000,000 was spent upon barracks by 1804, and, it seems, without +proper authority.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Debate in <i>Parl. Hist.</i> xiii. 1382, etc., and see +Walpole's <i>Correspondence</i>, i. 400, for some characteristic comments.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Clode, ii. 86.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> See the famous case in 1778 in which Erskine made his +first appearance, in <i>State Trials</i>, xxi. Lord St. Vincent's struggle +against the corruption of his time is described by Prof. Laughton in +the <i>Dictionary of National Biography</i>, (<i>s.v.</i> Sir John Jervis). In +1801 half a million a year was stolen, besides all the waste due to +corruption and general muddling.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">V. <a name="I_V" id="I_V"></a>THE CHURCH</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +I turn, however, to the profession which was more directly connected +with the intellectual development of the country. The nature of the +church establishment gives the most obvious illustration of the +connection between the intellectual position on the one hand and the +social and political order on the other, though I do not presume to +decide how far either should be regarded as effect and the other as +cause.</p> + +<p>What is the church of England? Some people apparently believe that it +is a body possessing and transmitting certain supernatural powers. +This view was in abeyance for the time for excellent reasons, and, +true or false, is no answer to the constitutional question. It does +not enable us to define what was the actual body with which lawyers +and politicians have to deal. The best answer to such questions in +ordinary case would be given by describing the organisation of the +body concerned. We could then say what is the authority which speaks +in its name; and what is the legislature which makes its laws, alters +its arrangements, and defines the terms of membership. The supreme +legislature of the church of England might appear to be parliament. It +is the Act of Uniformity which defines the profession of belief +exacted from the clergy; and no alteration could be made in regard to +the rights and duties of the clergy except by parliamentary authority. +The church might therefore be regarded as simply the religious +department of the state. Since 1688, however, the theory and the +practice of toleration had introduced difficulties. Nonconformity was +not by itself punishable though it exposed a man +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +to certain +disqualifications. The state, therefore, recognised that many of its +members might legally belong to other churches, although it had, as +Warburton argued, formed an 'alliance' with the dominant church. The +spirit of toleration was spreading throughout the century. The old +penal laws, due to the struggles of the seventeenth century, were +becoming obsolete in practice and were gradually being repealed. The +Gordon riots of 1780 showed that a fanatical spirit might still be +aroused in a mob which wanted an excuse for plunder; but the laws were +not explicitly defended by reasonable persons and were being gradually +removed by legislation towards the end of the century. Although, +therefore, parliament was kept free from papists, it could hardly +regard church and state as identical, or consider itself as entitled +to act as the representative body of the church. No other body, +indeed, could change the laws of the church; but parliament recognised +its own incompetence to deal with them. Towards the end of the +century, various attempts were made to relax the terms of +subscription. It was proposed, for example, to substitute a profession +of belief in the Bible for a subscription to the Thirty-Nine Articles. +But the House of Commons sensibly refused to expose itself by +venturing upon any theological innovations. A body more ludicrously +incompetent could hardly have been invented.</p> + +<p>Hence we must say that the church had either no supreme body which +could speak in its name and modify its creed, its ritual, its +discipline, or the details of its organisation; or else, that the only +body which had in theory a right to interfere was doomed, by +sufficient considerations, to absolute inaction. The church, from +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +a +secular point of view, was not so much a department of the state as an +aggregate of offices, the functions of which were prescribed by +unalterable tradition. It consisted of a number of bishops, deans and +chapters, rectors, vicars, curates, and so forth, many of whom had +certain proprietary rights in their position, and who were bound by +law to discharge certain functions. But the church, considered as a +whole, could hardly be called an organism at all, or, if an organism, +it was an organism with its central organ in a permanent state of +paralysis. The church, again, in this state was essentially dependent +upon the ruling classes. A glance at the position of the clergy shows +their professional position. At their head were the bishops, some of +them enjoying princely revenues, while others were so poor as to +require that their incomes should be eked out by deaneries or livings +held <i>in commendam</i>. The great sees, such as Canterbury, Durham, Ely, +and Winchester, were valued at between, £20,000 and £30,000 a year; +while the smaller, Llandaff, Bangor, Bristol, and Gloucester, were +worth less than £2000. The bishops had patronage which enabled them to +provide for relatives or for deserving clergymen. The average incomes +of the parochial clergy, meanwhile, were small. In 1809 they were +calculated to be worth £255, while nearly four thousand livings were +worth under £150; and there were four or five thousand curates with +very small pay. The profession, therefore, offered a great many blanks +with a few enormous prizes. How were those prizes generally obtained? +When the reformers published the <i>Black Book</i> in 1820, they gave a +list of the bishops holding sees in the last year of George <small>III.</small>; and, +as most of these gentlemen were on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +their promotion at the end of the +previous century. I give the list in a note.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></p> + +<p>There were twenty-seven bishoprics including Sodor +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +and Man. Of these +eleven were held by members of noble families; fourteen were held by +men who had been tutors in, or in other ways personally connected with +the royal family or the families of ministers and great men; and of +the remaining two, one rested his claim upon political writing in +defence of Pitt, while the other seems to have had the support of a +great city company. The system of translation enabled the government +to keep a hand upon the bishops. Their elevation to the more valuable +places or leave to hold subsidiary preferments depended upon their +votes in the House of Lords. So far, then, as secular motives +operated, the tendency of the system was clear. If Providence had +assigned to you a duke for a father or an uncle, preferment would fall +to you as of right. A man of rank who takes orders should be rewarded +for his condescension. If that qualification be not secured, you +should aim at being tutor in a great family, accompany a lad on the +grand tour, or write some pamphlet on a great man's behalf. Paley +gained credit for independence at Cambridge, and spoke with contempt +of the practice of 'rooting,' the cant phrase for patronage hunting. +The text which he facetiously suggested for a sermon when Pitt visited +Cambridge, 'There is a young man here who has six loaves and two +fishes, but what are they among so many?' hit off the spirit in which +a minister was regarded at the universities. The memoirs of Bishop +Watson illustrate the same sentiment. He lived in his pleasant country +house at Windermere, never visiting his diocese, and according to De +Quincey, talking Socinianism at his table. He felt himself to be a +deeply injured man, because ministers had never found an opportunity +for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +translating him to a richer diocese, although he had written +against Paine and Gibbon. If they would not reward their friends, he +argued, why should he take up their cause by defending Christianity?</p> + +<p>The bishops were eminently respectable. They did not lead immoral +lives, and if they gave a large share of preferment to their families, +that at least was a domestic virtue. Some of them, Bishop Barrington +of Durham, for example, took a lead in philanthropic movements; and, +if considered simply as prosperous country-gentlemen, little fault +could be found with them. While, however, every commonplace motive +pointed so directly towards a career of subserviency to the ruling +class among the laity, it could not be expected that they should take +a lofty view of their profession. The Anglican clergy were not like +the Irish priesthood, in close sympathy with the peasantry, or like +the Scottish ministers, the organs of strong convictions spreading +through the great mass of the middle and lower classes. A man of +energy, who took his faith seriously, was, like the Evangelical +clergy, out of the road to preferment, or, like Wesley, might find no +room within the church at all. His colleagues called him an +'enthusiast,' and disliked him as a busybody if not a fanatic. They +were by birth and adoption themselves members of the ruling class; +many of them were the younger sons of squires, and held their livings +in virtue of their birth. Advowsons are the last offices to retain a +proprietary character. The church of that day owed such a +representative as Horne Tooke to the system which enabled his father +to provide for him by buying a living. From the highest to the lowest +ranks of clergy, the church was as Matthew Arnold could +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +still call +it, an 'appendage of the barbarians.' The clergy, that is, as a whole, +were an integral but a subsidiary part of the aristocracy or the great +landed interest. Their admirers urged that the system planted a +cultivated gentleman in every parish in the country. Their opponents +replied, like John Sterling, that he was a 'black dragoon with horse +meat and man's meat'—part of the garrison distributed through the +country to support the cause of property and order. In any case the +instinctive prepossessions, the tastes and favourite pursuits of the +profession were essentially those of the class with which it was so +intimately connected. Arthur Young,<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> speaking of the French clergy, +observes that at least they are not poachers and foxhunters, who +divide their time between hunting, drinking, and preaching. You do not +in France find such advertisements as he had heard of in England, +'Wanted a curacy in a good sporting country, where the duty is light +and the neighbourhood convivial.' The proper exercise for a country +clergyman, he rather quaintly observes, is agriculture. The ideal +parson, that is, should be a squire in canonical dress. The clergy of +the eighteenth century probably varied between the extremes +represented by Trulliber and the Vicar of Wakefield. Many of them were +excellent people, with a mild taste for literature, contributing to +the <i>Gentleman's Magazine</i>, investigating the antiquities of their +county, occasionally confuting a deist, exerting a sound judgment in +cultivating their glebes or improving the breed of cattle, and +respected both by squire and farmers. The 'Squarson,' in Sydney +Smith's facetious phrase, was the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +ideal clergyman. The purely +sacerdotal qualities, good or bad, were at a minimum. Crabbe, himself +a type of the class, has left admirable portraits of his fellows. +Profound veneration for his noble patrons and hearty dislike for +intrusive dissenters were combined in his own case with a pure +domestic life, a keen insight into the uglier realities of country +life and a good sound working morality. Miss Austen, who said that she +could have been Crabbe's wife, has given more delicate pictures of the +clergyman as he appeared at the tea-tables of the time. He varies +according to her from the squire's excellent younger brother, who is +simply a squire in a white neck-cloth, to the silly but still +respectable sycophant, who firmly believes his lady patroness to be a +kind of local deity. Many of the real memoirs of the day give pleasant +examples of the quiet and amiable lives of the less ambitious clergy. +There is the charming Gilbert White (1720-1793) placidly studying the +ways of tortoises, and unconsciously composing a book which breathes +an undying charm from its atmosphere of peaceful repose; William +Gilpin (1724-1804) founding and endowing parish schools, teaching the +catechism, and describing his vacation tours in narratives which +helped to spread a love of natural scenery; and Thomas Gisborne +(1758-1846), squire and clergyman, a famous preacher among the +evangelicals and a poet after the fashion of Cowper, who loved his +native Needwood Forest as White loved Selborne and Gilpin loved the +woods of Boldre; and Cowper himself (1731-1800) who, though not a +clergyman, lived in a clerical atmosphere, and whose gentle and +playful enjoyment of quiet country life relieves the painfully deep +pathos of his disordered +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +imagination; and the excellent W. L. Bowles +(1762-1850), whose sonnets first woke Coleridge's imagination, who +spent eighty-eight years in an amiable and blameless life, and was +country-gentleman, magistrate, antiquary, clergyman, and poet.<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> +Such names are enough to recall a type which has not quite vanished, +and which has gathered a new charm in more stirring and fretful times. +These most excellent people, however, were not likely to be prominent +in movements destined to break up the placid environment of their +lives nor, in truth, to be sources of any great intellectual stir.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> The list, checked from other sources of information, is +as follows:—Manners Sutton, archbishop of Canterbury, was grandson of +the third duke of Rutland; Edward Vernon, archbishop of York, was son +of the first Lord Vernon and cousin of the third Lord Harcourt, whose +estates he inherited; Shute Barrington, bishop of Durham, was son of +the first and brother of the second Viscount Barrington; Brownlow +North, bishop of Winchester, was uncle to the earl of Guildford; James +Cornwallis, bishop of Lichfield, was uncle to the second marquis, +whose peerage he inherited; George Pelham, bishop of Exeter, was +brother of the earl of Chichester; Henry Bathurst, bishop of Norwich, +was nephew of the first earl; George Henry Law, bishop of Chester, was +brother of the first Lord Ellenborough; Edward Legge, bishop of +Oxford, was son of the second earl of Dartmouth; Henry Ryder, bishop +of Gloucester, was brother to the earl of Harrowby; George Murray, +bishop of Sodor and Man, was nephew-in-law to the duke of Athol and +brother-in-law to the earl of Kinnoul. Of the fourteen tutors, etc., +mentioned above, William Howley, bishop of London, had been tutor to +the prince of Orange at Oxford; George Pretyman Tomline, bishop of +Lincoln, had been Pitt's tutor at Cambridge; Richard Beadon, bishop of +Bath and Wells, had been tutor to the duke of Gloucester at Cambridge; +Folliott Cornewall, bishop of Worcester, had been made chaplain to the +House of Commons by the influence of his cousin, the Speaker; John +Buckner, bishop of Chichester, had been tutor to the duke of Richmond; +Henry William Majendie, bishop of Bangor, was the son of Queen +Charlotte's English master, and had been tutor to William <small>IV.</small>; George +Isaac Huntingford, bishop of Hereford, had been tutor to Addington, +prime minister; Thomas Burgess, bishop of St. David's, was a personal +friend of Addington; John Fisher, bishop of Salisbury, had been tutor +to the duke of Kent; John Luxmoore, bishop of St. Asaph, had been +tutor to the duke of Buccleugh; Samuel Goodenough, bishop of Carlisle, +had been tutor to the sons of the third duke of Portland and was +connected with Addington; William Lort Mansel, bishop of Bristol, had +been tutor to Perceval at Cambridge, and owed to Perceval the +mastership of Trinity; Walter King, bishop of Rochester, had been +secretary to the duke of Portland; and Bowyer Edward Sparke, bishop of +Ely, had been tutor to the duke of Rutland. The two remaining bishops +were Herbert Marsh, bishop of Peterborough, who had established a +claim by defending Pitt's financial measures in an important pamphlet; +and William Van Mildert, bishop of Llandaff, who had been chaplain to +the Grocers' Company and became known as a preacher in London.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> <i>Travels in France</i> (1892), p. 327.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> See <i>A Country Clergyman of the Eighteenth Century</i> +(Thomas Twining), 1882, for a pleasant picture of the class.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">VI. <a name="I_VI" id="I_VI"></a>THE UNIVERSITIES</p> + +<p>The effect of these conditions is perhaps best marked in the state of +the universities. Universities have at different periods been great +centres of intellectual life. The English universities of the +eighteenth century are generally noted only as embodiments of sloth +and prejudice. The judgments of Wesley and Gibbon and Adam Smith and +Bentham coincide in regard to Oxford; and Johnson's love of his +university is an equivocal testimony to its intellectual merits. We +generally think of it as of a sleepy hollow, in which portly fellows +of colleges, like the convivial Warton, imbibed port wine and sneered +at Methodists, though few indeed rivalled Warton's services to +literature. The universities in fact had become, as they long +continued to be, high schools chiefly for the use of the clergy, and +if they still aimed at some wider intellectual training, were sinking +to be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +institutions where the pupils of the public schools might, if +they pleased, put a little extra polish upon their classical and +mathematical knowledge. The colleges preserved their mediæval +constitution; and no serious changes of their statutes were made until +the middle of the present century. The clergy had an almost exclusive +part in the management, and dissenters were excluded even from +entering Oxford as students.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> But the clergyman did not as a rule +devote himself to a life of study. He could not marry as a fellow, but +he made no vows of celibacy. The college, therefore, was merely a +stepping-stone on the way to the usual course of preferment. A fellow +looked forwards to settling in a college living, or if he had the luck +to act as tutor to a nobleman, he might soar to a deanery or a +bishopric. The fellows who stayed in their colleges were probably +those who had least ambition, or who had a taste for an easy +bachelor's life. The universities, therefore, did not form bodies of +learned men interested in intellectual pursuits; but at most, helped +such men in their start upon a more prosperous career. The studies +flagged in sympathy. Gray's letters sufficiently reveal the dulness +which was felt by a man of cultivation confined within the narrow +society of college dons of the day. The scholastic philosophy which +had once found enthusiastic cultivators in the great universities had +more or less held its own through the seventeenth century, though +repudiated by all the rising thinkers. Since the days of Locke and +Berkeley, it had fallen utterly out of credit. The bright common +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +sense of the polished society of the day looked upon the old doctrine +with a contempt, which, if not justified by familiarity, was an +implicit judgment of the tree by its fruits. Nobody could suppose the +divines of the day to be the depositaries of an esoteric wisdom which +the vulgar were not worthy to criticise. They were themselves chiefly +anxious to prove that their sacred mysteries were really not at all +mysterious, but merely one way of expressing plain common sense. At +Oxford, indeed, the lads were still crammed with Aldrich, and learned +the technical terms of a philosophy which had ceased to have any real +life in it. At Cambridge, ardent young radicals spoke with contempt of +this 'horrid jargon—fit only to be chattered by monkies in a +wilderness.'<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> Even at Cambridge, they still had disputations on the +old form, but they argued theses from Locke's essay, and thought that +their mathematical studies were a check upon metaphysical 'jargon.' It +is indeed characteristic of the respect for tradition that at +Cambridge even mathematics long suffered from a mistaken patriotism +which resented any improvement upon the methods of Newton. There were +some signs of reviving activity. The fellowships were being +distributed with less regard to private interest. The mathematical +tripos founded at Cambridge in the middle of the century became the +prototype of all competitive examinations; and half a century later +Oxford followed the precedent by the Examination Statute of 1800. A +certain number of professorships of such modern studies as anatomy, +history, botany, and geology were founded during the eighteenth +century, and show a certain sense of a need of broader views. The +lectures +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +upon which Blackstone founded his commentaries were the +product of the foundation of the Vinerian professorship in 1751; and +the most recent of the Cambridge colleges, Downing College, shows by +its constitution that a professoriate was now considered to be +desirable. Cambridge in the last years of the century might have had a +body of very eminent professors. Watson, second wrangler of 1759, had +delivered lectures upon chemistry, of which it was said by Davy that +hardly any conceivable change in the science could make them +obsolete.<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> Paley, senior wrangler in 1763, was an almost unrivalled +master of lucid exposition, and one of his works is still a textbook +at Cambridge. Isaac Milner, senior wrangler in 1774, afterwards held +the professorships of mathematics and natural philosophy, and was +famous as a sort of ecclesiastical Dr. Johnson. Gilbert Wakefield, +second wrangler in 1776, published an edition of Lucretius, and was a +man of great ability and energy. Herbert Marsh, second wrangler in +1779, was divinity professor from 1807, and was the first English +writer to introduce some knowledge of the early stages of German +criticism. Porson, the greatest Greek scholar of his time, became +professor in 1790; Malthus, ninth wrangler in 1788, who was to make a +permanent mark upon political economy, became fellow of Jesus College +in 1793. Waring, senior wrangler in 1757, Vince, senior wrangler in +1775, and Wollaston, senior wrangler in 1783, were also professors and +mathematicians of reputation. Towards the end of the century ten +professors were lecturing.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> A large number were not lecturing, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +though Milner was good enough to be 'accessible to students.' Paley +and Watson had been led off into the path of ecclesiastical +preferment. Marsh too became a bishop in 1816. There was no place for +such talents as those of Malthus, who ultimately became professor at +Haileybury. Wakefield had the misfortune of not being able to cover +his heterodoxy with the conventional formula. Porson suffered from the +same cause, and from less respectable weaknesses; but it seems that +the university had no demand for services of the great scholar, and he +did nothing for his £40 a year. Milner was occupied in managing the +university in the interests of Pitt and Protestantism, and in waging +war against Jacobins and intruders. There was no lack of ability; but +there was no inducement to any intellectual activity for its own sake; +and there were abundant temptations for any man of energy to diverge +to the career which offered more intelligible rewards.</p> + +<p>The universities in fact supplied the demand which was actually +operative. They provided the average clergyman with a degree; they +expected the son of the country-gentleman or successful lawyer to +acquire the traditional culture of his class, and to spend three or +four years pleasantly, or even, if he chose, industriously. But there +was no such thing as a learned society, interested in the cultivation +of knowledge for its own sake, and applauding the devotion of life to +its extension or discussion. The men of the time who contributed to +the progress of science owed little or nothing to the universities, +and were rather volunteers from without, impelled by their own +idiosyncrasies. Among the scientific leaders, for example, Joseph +Black (1728-1799) was a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +Scottish professor; Priestley (1733-1804) a +dissenting minister; Cavendish (1731-1810) an aristocratic recluse, +who, though he studied at Cambridge, never graduated; Watt (1736-1819) +a practical mechanician; and Dalton (1766-1844) a Quaker schoolmaster. +John Hunter (1728-1793) was one of the energetic Scots who forced +their way to fame without help from English universities. The +cultivation of the natural sciences was only beginning to take root; +and the soil, which it found congenial, was not that of the great +learned institutions, which held to their old traditional studies.</p> + +<p>I may, then, sum up the result in a few words. The church had once +claimed to be an entirely independent body, possessing a supernatural +authority, with an organisation sanctioned by supernatural powers, and +entitled to lay down the doctrines which gave the final theory of +life. Theology was the queen of the sciences and theologians the +interpreters of the first principles of all knowledge and conduct. The +church of England, on the other hand, at our period had entirely +ceased to be independent: it was bound hand and foot by acts of +parliament: there was no ecclesiastical organ capable of speaking in +its name, altering its laws or defining its tenets: it was an +aggregate of offices the appointment to which was in the hands either +of the political ministers or of the lay members of the ruling class. +It was in reality simply a part of the ruling class told off to +perform divine services: to maintain order and respectability and the +traditional morality. It had no distinctive philosophy or theology, +for the articles of belief represented simply a compromise; an attempt +to retain as much of the old as was practicable and yet to admit as +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +much of the new as was made desirable by political considerations. It +was the boast of its more liberal members that they were not tied down +to any definite dogmatic system; but could have a free hand so long as +they did not wantonly come into conflict with some of the legal +formulæ laid down in a previous generation. The actual teaching showed +the effects of the system. It had been easy to introduce a +considerable leaven of the rationalism which suited the lay mind; to +explain away the mysterious doctrines upon which an independent church +had insisted as manifestations of its spiritual privileges, but which +were regarded with indifference or contempt by the educated laity now +become independent. The priest had been disarmed and had to suit his +teaching to the taste of his patrons and congregations. The divines of +the eighteenth century had, as they boasted, confuted the deists; but +it was mainly by showing that they could be deists in all but the +name. The dissenters, less hampered by legal formulæ, had drifted +towards Unitarianism. The position of such divines as Paley, Watson, +and Hey was not so much that the Unitarians were wrong, as that the +mysterious doctrines were mere sets of words, over which it was +superfluous to quarrel. The doctrine was essentially traditional; for +it was impossible to represent the doctrines of the church of England +as deductions from any abstract philosophy. But the traditions were +not regarded as having any mysterious authority. Abstract philosophy +might lead to deism or infidelity. Paley and his like rejected such +philosophy in the spirit of Locke or even Hume. But it was always +possible to treat a tradition like any other statement of fact. It +could be proved by appropriate evidence. The truth of Christianity +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +was therefore merely a question of facts like the truth of any other +passages of history. It was easy enough to make out a case for the +Christian miracles, and then the mysteries, after it had been +sufficiently explained that they really meant next to nothing, could +be rested upon the authority of the miracles. In other words, the +accepted doctrines, like the whole constitution of the church, could +be so modified as to suit the prejudices and modes of thought of the +laity. The church, it may be said, was thoroughly secularised. The +priest was no longer a wielder of threats and an interpreter of +oracles, but an entirely respectable gentleman, who fully sympathised +with the prejudices of his patron and practically admitted that he had +very little to reveal, beyond explaining that his dogmas were +perfectly harmless and eminently convenient. He preached, however, a +sound common sense morality, and was not divided from his neighbours +by setting up the claims characteristic of a sacerdotal caste. Whether +he has become on the whole better or worse by subsequent changes is a +question not to be asked here; but perhaps not quite so easily +answered as is sometimes supposed.</p> + +<p>The condition of the English church and universities may be contrasted +with that of their Scottish rivals. The Scottish church and +universities had no great prizes to offer and no elaborate hierarchy. +But the church was a national institution in a sense different from +the English. The General Assembly was a powerful body, not +overshadowed by a great political rival. To rise to be a minister was +the great ambition of poor sons of farmers and tradesmen. They had to +study at the universities in the intervals, perhaps, of agricultural +labour; and if +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +the learning was slight and the scholarship below the +English standard, the young aspirant had at least to learn to preach +and to acquire such philosophy as would enable him to argue upon grace +and freewill with some hard-headed Davie Deans. It was doubtless owing +in part to these conditions that the Scottish universities produced +many distinguished teachers throughout the century. Professors had to +teach something which might at least pass for philosophy, though they +were more or less restrained by the necessity of respecting orthodox +prejudices. At the end of the century, the only schools of philosophy +in the island were to be found in Scotland, where Reid (1710-1796) and +Adam Smith (1723-1790) had found intelligent disciples, and where +Dugald Stewart, of whom I shall speak presently, had become the +recognised philosophical authority.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> At Cambridge subscription was abolished for +undergraduates in 1775; and bachelors of arts had only to declare +themselves '<i>bona-fide</i> members of the church of England.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Gilbert Wakefield's <i>Memoirs</i>, ii. 149.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> De Quincey, <i>Works</i> (1863), ii. 106.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Wordsworth's <i>University Life, etc.</i> (1874), 83-87.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">VII. <a name="I_VII" id="I_VII"></a>THEORY</p> + +<p>What theory corresponds to this practical order? It implies, in the +first place, a constant reference to tradition. The system has grown +up without any reference to abstract principles or symmetrical plan. +The legal order supposes a traditional common law, as the +ecclesiastical order a traditional creed, and the organisation is +explicable only by historical causes. The system represents a series +of compromises, not the elaboration of a theory. If the squire +undertook by way of supererogation to justify his position he appealed +to tradition and experience. He invoked the 'wisdom of our ancestors,' +the system of 'checks and balances' which made our Constitution an +unrivalled mixture of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +deserving +the 'dread and envy of the world.' The prescription for compounding +that mixture could obviously be learned by nothing but experiment. +Traditional means empirical. By instinct, rather than conscious +reasoning, Englishmen had felt their way to establishing the 'palladia +of our liberties': trial by jury, the 'Habeas Corpus' Act, and the +substitution of a militia for a standing army. The institutions were +cherished because they had been developed by long struggles and were +often cherished when their real justification had disappeared. The +Constitution had not been 'made' but had 'grown'; or, in other words, +the one rule had been the rule of thumb. That is an excellent rule in +its way, and very superior to an abstract rule which neglects or +overrides experience. The 'logic of facts,' moreover, may be trusted +to produce a certain harmony: and general principles, though not +consciously invoked, tacitly govern the development of institutions +worked out under uniform conditions. The simple reluctance to pay +money without getting money's worth might generate the important +principle that representation should go with taxation, without +embodying any theory of a 'social contract' such as was offered by an +afterthought to give a philosophical sanction. Englishmen, it is said, +had bought their liberties step by step, because at each step they +were in a position to bargain with their rulers. What they had bought +they were determined to keep and considered to be their inalienable +property. One result is conspicuous. In England the ruling classes did +not so much consider their privileges to be something granted by the +state, as the power of the state to be something derived from their +concessions. Though +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +the lord-lieutenant and the justices of the peace +were nominated by the crown, their authority came in fact as an almost +spontaneous consequence of their birthright or their acquired position +in the country. They shone by their own light and were really the +ultimate sources of authority. Seats in parliament, preferments in the +church, commissions in the army belonged to them like their estates; +and they seemed to be qualified by nature, rather than by appointment, +to act in judicial and administrative capacities. The system of +'self-government' embodies this view. The functions of government were +assigned to men already powerful by their social position. The absence +of the centralised hierarchy of officials gave to Englishmen the sense +of personal liberty which compelled the admiration of Voltaire and his +countrymen in the eighteenth century. In England were no <i>lettres de +cachet</i>, and no Bastille. A man could say what he thought and act +without fear of arbitrary rule. There was no such system as that +which, in France, puts the agents of the central power above the +ordinary law of the land. This implies what has been called the 'rule +of the law' in England. 'With us every official from the prime +minister down to a constable or a collector of taxes' (as Professor +Dicey explains the principle) 'is under the same responsibility for +every act done without legal justification as any other citizen.'<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> +The early centralisation of the English monarchy had made the law +supreme, and instead of generating a new structure had combined and +regulated the existing social forces. The sovereign power was thus +farmed to the aristocracy +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +instead of forming an organ of its own. +Instead of resigning power they were forced to exercise it on +condition of thorough responsibility to the central judiciary. Their +privileges were not destroyed but were combined with the discharge of +corresponding duties. Whatever their shortcomings, they were preserved +from the decay which is the inevitable consequence of a divorce of +duties from privileges.</p> + +<p>Another aspect of the case is equally clear. If the privilege is +associated with a duty, the duty may also be regarded as a privilege. +The doctrine seems to mark a natural stage in the evolution of the +conception of duty to the state. The power which is left to a member +of the ruling class is also part of his dignity. Thus we have an +amalgamation between the conceptions of private property and public +trust. 'In so far as the ideal of feudalism is perfectly realised,' it +has been said,<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> 'all that we can call public law is merged in +private law; jurisdiction is property; office is property; the +kingship itself is property.' This feudal ideal was still preserved +with many of the institutions descended from feudalism. The king's +right to his throne was regarded as of the same kind as the right to a +private estate. His rights as king were also his rights as the owner +of the land.<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> Subordinate landowners had similar rights, and as the +royal power diminished +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +greater powers fell to the aggregate of +constitutional kinglets who governed the country. Each of them was +from one point of view an official, but each also regarded his office +as part of his property. The country belonged to him and his class +rather than he to the country. We occasionally find the quaint theory +which deduced political rights from property in land. The freeholders +were the owners of the soil and might give notice to quit to the rest +of the population.<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> They had therefore a natural right to carry on +government in their own interests. The ruling classes, however, were +not marked off from others by any deep line of demarcation; they could +sell their own share in the government to anybody who was rich enough +to buy it, and there was a constant influx of new blood. Moreover, +they did in fact improve their estate with very great energy, and +discharged roughly, but in many ways efficiently, the duties which +were also part of their property. The nobleman or even the squire was +more than an individual; as head of a family he was a life tenant of +estates which he desired to transmit to his descendants. He was a +'corporation sole' and had some of the spirit of a corporation. A +college or a hospital is founded to discharge a particular function; +its members continue perhaps to recognise their duty; but they resent +any interference from outside as sacrilege or confiscation. It is for +them alone to judge how they can best carry out, and whether they are +actually carrying out, the aims of the corporate life. In the same way +the great noble took his part in legislation, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +church preferment, the +command of the army, and so forth, and fully admitted that he was +bound in honour to play his part effectively; but he was equally +convinced that he was subject to nothing outside of his sense of +honour. His duties were also his rights. The naïf expression of this +doctrine by a great borough proprietor, 'May I not do what I like with +my own?' was to become proverbial.<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></p> + +<p>This, finally, suggests that a doctrine of 'individualism' is implied +throughout. The individual rights are the antecedent and the rights of +the state a consequent or corollary. Every man has certain sacred +rights accruing to him in virtue of 'prescription' or tradition, +through his inherited position in the social organism. The 'rule of +law' secures that he shall exercise them without infringing the +privileges of his neighbour. He may moreover be compelled by the law +to discharge them on due occasion. But, as there is no supreme body +which can sufficiently superintend, stimulate, promote, or dismiss, +the active impulse must come chiefly from his own sense of the fitness +of things. The efficiency therefore depends upon his being in such a +position that his duty may coincide with his personal interest. The +political machinery can only work efficiently on the assumption of a +spontaneous activity of the ruling classes, prompted by public spirit +or a sense of personal dignity. Meanwhile, 'individualism' in a +different sense was represented by the forces which made for progress +rather than order, and to them I must now turn. +</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Professor Dicey's <i>Lectures on the Law of the +Constitution</i> (1885), p. 178. Professor Dicey gives an admirable +exposition of the 'rule of law.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Pollock and Maitland's <i>History of English Law</i>, i. +208.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> A characteristic consequence is that Hale and Blackstone +make no distinction between public and private law. Austin +(<i>Jurisprudence</i> (1869), 773-76) applauds them for this peculiarity, +which he regards as a proof of originality, though it would rather +seem to be an acceptance of the traditional view. Austin, however, +retorts the charge of <i>Verwirrung</i> upon German critics.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> This is the theory of Defoe in his <i>Original Power of +the People of England</i> (Works by Hazlitt, vol iii. See especially p. +57).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> The fourth duke of Newcastle in the House of Lords, 3 +Dec. 1830.</p></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE INDUSTRIAL SPIRIT</h3> + +<p class="scs">I. <a name="II_I" id="II_I"></a>THE MANUFACTURERS</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +The history of England during the eighteenth century shows a curious +contrast between the political stagnancy and the great industrial +activity. The great constitutional questions seemed to be settled; and +the statesmen, occupied mainly in sharing power and place, took a very +shortsighted view (not for the first time in history) of the great +problems that were beginning to present themselves. The British empire +in the East was not won by a towering ambition so much as forced upon +a reluctant commercial company by the necessities of its position. The +English race became dominant in America; but the political connection +was broken off mainly because English statesmen could only regard it +from the shopkeeping point of view. When a new world began to arise at +the Antipodes, our rulers saw an opportunity not for planting new +offshoots of European civilisation, but for ridding themselves of the +social rubbish no longer accepted in America. With purblind energy, +and eyes doggedly fixed upon the ground at their feet, the race had +somehow pressed forwards to illustrate the old doctrine that a man +never goes so far as when he does +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +not know whither he is going. While +thinking of earning an honest penny by extending the trade, our +'monied-men' were laying the foundation of vast structures to be +developed by their descendants.</p> + +<p>Politicians, again, had little to do with the great 'industrial +revolution' which marked the last half of the century. The main facts +are now a familiar topic of economic historians; nor need I speak of +them in detail. Though agriculture was still the main industry, and +the landowners almost monopolised political power, an ever growing +proportion of the people was being collected in towns; the artisans +were congregating in large factories; and the great cloud of +coal-smoke, which has never dwindled, was already beginning to darken +our skies. The change corresponds to the difference between a fully +developed organism possessed of a central brain, with an elaborate +nervous system, and some lower form in which the vital processes are +still carried on by a number of separate ganglia. The concentration of +the population in the great industrial centres implied the improvement +of the means of commerce; new organisation of industry provided with a +corresponding apparatus of machinery; and the systematic exploitation +of the stored-up forces of nature. Each set of changes was at once +cause and effect, and each was carried on separately, although in +relation to the other. Brindley, Arkwright, and Watt may be taken as +typical representatives of the three operations. Canals, +spinning-jennies, and steam-engines were changing the whole social +order.</p> + +<p>The development of means of communication had been slow till the last +half of the century. The roads had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +been little changed since they had +been first laid down as part of the great network which bound the +Roman empire together. Turnpike acts, sanctioning the construction of +new roads, became numerous. Palmer's application of the stage-coaches +to the carriage of the mails marked an epoch in 1784; and De Quincey's +prose poem, 'The Mail-coach,' shows how the unprecedented speed of +Palmer's coaches, then spreading the news of the first battles in the +Peninsula, had caused them to tyrannise over the opium-eater's dreams. +They were discharging at once a political and an industrial function. +Meanwhile the Bridgewater canal, constructed between 1759 and 1761, +was the first link in a great network which, by the time of the French +revolution, connected the seaports and the great centres of industry. +The great inventions of machinery were simultaneously enabling +manufacturers to take advantage of the new means of communication. The +cotton manufacture sprang up soon after 1780 with enormous rapidity. +Aided by the application of steam (first applied to a cotton mill in +1785) it passed the woollen trade, the traditional favourite of +legislators, and became the most important branch of British trade. +The iron trade had made a corresponding start. While the steam-engine, +on which Watt had made the first great improvement in 1765, was +transforming the manufacturing system, and preparing the advent of the +steamship and railroad, Great Britain had become the leading +manufacturing and commercial country in the world. The agricultural +interest was losing its pre-eminence; and huge towns with vast +aggregations of artisan population were beginning to spring up with +unprecedented rapidity. The change +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +was an illustration upon a +gigantic scale of the doctrines expounded in the <i>Wealth of Nations</i>. +Division of labour was being applied to things more important than +pin-making, involving a redistribution of functions not as between men +covered by the same roof, but between whole classes of society; +between the makers of new means of communication and the manufacturers +of every kind of material. The whole industrial community might be +regarded as one great organism. Yet the organisation was formed by a +multitude of independent agencies without any concerted plan. It was +thus a vast illustration of the doctrine that each man by pursuing his +own interests promoted the interests of the whole, and that government +interference was simply a hindrance. The progress of improvement, says +Adam Smith, depends upon 'the uniform, constant, and uninterrupted +effort of every man to better his condition,' which often succeeds in +spite of the errors of government, as nature often overcomes the +blunders of doctors. It is, as he infers, 'the highest impertinence +and presumption for kings and ministers to pretend to watch over the +economy of private people' by sumptuary laws and taxes upon +imports.<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> To the English manufacturer or engineer government +appeared as a necessary evil. It allowed the engineer to make roads +and canals, after a troublesome and expensive process of application. +It granted patents to the manufacturer, but the patents were a source +of perpetual worry and litigation. The Chancellor of the Exchequer +might look with complacency upon the development of a new branch of +trade; but it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +was because he was lying in wait to come down upon it +with a new tax or system of duties.</p> + +<p>The men who were the chief instruments of the process were +'self-made'; they were the typical examples of Mr. Smiles's virtue of +self-help; they owed nothing to government or to the universities +which passed for the organs of national culture. The leading engineers +began as ordinary mechanics. John Metcalf (1717-1810), otherwise +'blind Jack of Knaresborough,' was a son of poor parents. He had lost +his sight by smallpox at the age of six, and, in spite of his +misfortune, became a daring rider, wrestler, soldier, and carrier, and +made many roads in the north of England, executing surveys and +constructing the works himself. James Brindley (1716-1772), son of a +midland collier, barely able to read or write, working out plans by +processes which he could not explain, and lying in bed till they took +shape in his brain, a rough mechanic, labouring for trifling weekly +wages, created the canals which mainly enabled Manchester and +Liverpool to make an unprecedented leap in prosperity. The two great +engineers, Thomas Telford (1757-1834), famous for the Caledonian canal +and the Menai bridge; and John Rennie (1761-1821), drainer of +Lincolnshire fens, and builder of Waterloo bridge and the Plymouth +breakwater, rose from the ranks. Telford inherited and displayed in a +different direction the energies of Eskdale borderers, whose +achievements in the days of cattle-stealing were to be made famous by +Scott: Rennie was the son of an East Lothian farmer. Both of them +learned their trade by actual employment as mechanics. The inventors +of machinery belonged mainly to the lower middle classes. Kay was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> a +small manufacturer; Hargreaves a hand-loom weaver; Crompton the son of +a small farmer; and Arkwright a country barber. Watt, son of a +Greenock carpenter, came from the sturdy Scottish stock, ultimately of +covenanting ancestry, from which so many eminent men have sprung.</p> + +<p>The new social class, in which such men were the leaders, held +corresponding principles. They owed whatever success they won to their +own right hands. They were sturdy workers, with eyes fixed upon +success in life, and success generally of course measured by a money +criterion. Many of them showed intellectual tastes, and took an +honourable view of their social functions. Watt showed his ability in +scientific inquiries outside of the purely industrial application; +Josiah Wedgwood, in whose early days the Staffordshire potters had led +a kind of gipsy life, settling down here and there to carry on their +trade, had not only founded a great industry, but was a man of +artistic taste, a patron of art, and a lover of science. Telford, the +Eskdale shepherd, was a man of literary taste, and was especially +friendly with the typical man of letters, Southey. Others, of course, +were of a lower type. Arkwright combined the talents of an inventor +with those of a man of business. He was a man, says Baines (the +historian of the cotton trade), who was sure to come out of an +enterprise with profit, whatever the result to his partners. He made a +great fortune, and founded a county family. Others rose in the same +direction. The Peels, for example, represented a line of yeomen. One +Peel founded a cotton business; his son became a baronet and an +influential member of parliament; and his grandson went to Oxford, and +became the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +great leader of the Conservative party, although like +Walpole, he owed his power to a kind of knowledge in which his adopted +class were generally deficient.</p> + +<p>The class which owed its growing importance to the achievements of +such men was naturally imbued with their spirit. Its growth meant the +development of a class which under the old order had been strictly +subordinate to the ruling class, and naturally regarded it with a +mingled feeling of respect and jealousy. The British merchant felt his +superiority in business to the average country-gentleman; he got no +direct share of the pensions and sinecures which so profoundly +affected the working of the political machinery, and yet his highest +ambition was to rise to be himself a member of the class, and to found +a family which might flourish in the upper atmosphere. The industrial +classes were inclined to favour political progress within limits. They +were dissenters because the church was essentially part of the +aristocracy; and they were readiest to denounce the abuses from which +they did not profit. The agitators who supported Wilkes, solid +aldermen and rich merchants, represented the view which was popular in +London and other great cities. They were the backbone of the Whig +party when it began to demand a serious reform. Their radicalism, +however, was not thoroughly democratic. Many of them aspired to become +members of the ruling class, and a shopkeeper does not quarrel too +thoroughly with his customers. The politics of individuals were of +course determined by accidents. Some of them might retain the sympathy +of the class from which they sprang, and others might adopt an even +extreme version of the opinions of the class to which they +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +desired to +rise. But, in any case, the divergence of interest between the +capitalists and the labourers was already making itself felt. The +self-made man, it is said, is generally the hardest master. He +approves of the stringent system of competition, of which he is +himself a product. It clearly enables the best man to win, for is he +not himself the best man? The class which was the great seat of +movement had naturally to meet all the prejudices which are roused by +change. The farmers near London, as Adam Smith tells us,<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> +petitioned against an extension of turnpike roads, which would enable +more distant farmers to compete in their market. But the farmers were +not the only prejudiced persons. All the great inventors of machinery, +Kay and Arkwright and Watt, had constantly to struggle against the old +workmen who were displaced by their inventions. Although, therefore, +the class might be Whiggish, it did not share the strongest +revolutionary passions. The genuine revolutionists were rather the men +who destroyed the manufacturer's machines, and were learning to regard +him as a natural enemy. The manufacturer had his own reasons for +supporting government. Our foreign policy during the century was in +the long run chiefly determined by the interests of our trade, however +much the trade might at times be hampered by ill-conceived +regulations. It is remarkable that Adam Smith<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> argues that, +although the capitalist is acuter that the country-gentleman, his +acuteness is chiefly displayed by knowing his own interests better. +Those interests, he thinks, do not coincide so much as the interests +of the country-gentleman with the general interests of the country. +Consequently the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +country-gentleman, though less intelligent, is more +likely to favour a national and liberal policy. The merchant, in fact, +was not a free-trader because he had read Adam Smith or consciously +adopted Smith's principles, but because or in so far as particular +restrictions interfered with him. Arthur Young complains bitterly of +the manufacturers who supported the prohibition to export English +wool, and so protected their own class at the expense of +agriculturists. Wedgwood, though a good liberal and a supporter of +Pitt's French treaty in 1786, joined in protesting against the +proposal for free-trade with Ireland. The Irish, he thought, might +rival his potteries. Thus, though as a matter of fact the growing +class of manufacturers and merchants were inclined in the main to +liberal principles, it was less from adhesion to any general doctrine +than from the fact that the existing restrictions and prejudices +generally conflicted with their plain interests.</p> + +<p>Another characteristic is remarkable. Though the growth of +manufactures and commerce meant the growth of great towns, it did not +mean the growth of municipal institutions. On the contrary, as I shall +presently have to notice, the municipalities were sinking to their +lowest ebb. Manufactures, in the first instance, spread along the +streams into country districts: and to the great manufacturer, working +for his own hand, his neighbours were competitors as much as allies. +The great towns, however, which were growing up, showed the general +tendencies of the class. They were centres not only of manufacturing +but of intellectual progress. The population of Birmingham, containing +the famous Soho works of Boulton and Watt, had increased between 1740 +and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +1780 from 24,000 to 74,000 inhabitants. Watt's partner Boulton +started the 'Lunar Society' at Birmingham.<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> Its most prominent +member was Erasmus Darwin, famous then for poetry which is chiefly +remembered by the parody in the <i>Anti-Jacobin</i>; and now more famous as +the advocate of a theory of evolution eclipsed by the teaching of his +more famous grandson, and, in any case, a man of remarkable +intellectual power. Among those who joined in the proceedings was +Edgeworth, who in 1768 was speculating upon moving carriages by steam, +and Thomas Day, whose <i>Sandford and Merton</i> helped to spread in +England the educational theories of Rousseau. Priestley, who settled +at Birmingham in 1780, became a member, and was helped in his +investigations by Watt's counsels and Wedgwood's pecuniary help. Among +occasional visitors were Smeaton, Sir Joseph Banks, Solander, and +Herschel of scientific celebrity; while the literary magnate, Dr. +Parr, who lived between Warwick and Birmingham, occasionally joined +the circle. Wedgwood, though too far off to be a member, was intimate +with Darwin and associated in various enterprises with Boulton. +Wedgwood's congenial partner, Thomas Bentley (1731-1780), had been in +business at Manchester and at Liverpool. He had taken part in founding +the Warrington 'Academy,' the dissenting seminary (afterwards moved to +Manchester) of which Priestley was tutor (1761-1767), and had lectured +upon art at the academy founded at Liverpool in 1773. Another member +of the academy was William Roscoe (1753-1831), whose literary taste +was shown by his lives of Lorenzo de Medici and Leo <small>X.</small>, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> and who +distinguished himself by opposing the slave-trade, then the infamy of +his native town. Allied with him in this movement were William +Rathbone and James Currie (1756-1805) the biographer of Burns, a +friend of Darwin and an intelligent physician. At Manchester Thomas +Perceval (1740-1804) founded the 'Literary and Philosophical Society' +in 1780. He was a pupil of the Warrington Academy, which he afterwards +joined on removing to Manchester, and he formed the scheme afterwards +realised by Owens College. He was an early advocate of sanitary +measures and factory legislation, and a man of scientific reputation. +Other members of the society were: John Ferriar (1761-1815), best +known by his <i>Illustrations of Sterne</i>, but also a man of literary and +scientific reputation; the great chemist, John Dalton (1766-1844), who +contributed many papers to its transactions; and, for a short time, +the Socialist Robert Owen, then a rising manufacturer. At Norwich, +then important as a manufacturing centre, was a similar circle. +William Taylor, an eminent Unitarian divine, who died at the +Warrington Academy in 1761, had lived at Norwich. One of his daughters +married David Martineau and became the mother of Harriet Martineau, +who has described the Norwich of her early years. John Taylor, +grandson of William, was father of Mrs. Austin, wife of the jurist. He +was a man of literary tastes, and his wife was known as the Madame +Roland of Norwich. Mrs. Opie (1765-1853) was daughter of James +Alderson, a physician of Norwich, and passed most of her life there. +William Taylor (1761-1836), another Norwich manufacturer, was among +the earliest English students of German literature. Norwich had +afterwards the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +unique distinction of being the home of a provincial +school of artists. John Crome (1788-1821), son of a poor weaver, and +John Sell Cotman (1782-1842) were its leaders; they formed a kind of +provincial academy, and exhibited pictures which have been more +appreciated since their death. At Bristol, towards the end of the +century, were similar indications of intellectual activity. Coleridge +and Southey found there a society ready to listen to their early +lectures, and both admired Thomas Beddoes (1760-1808), a physician, a +chemist, a student of German, an imitator of Darwin in poetry, and an +assailant of Pitt in pamphlets. He had married one of Edgeworth's +daughters. With the help and advice of Wedgwood and Watt, he founded +the 'Pneumatic Institute' at Clifton in 1798, and obtained the help of +Humphry Davy, who there made some of his first discoveries. Davy was +soon transported to the Royal Institution, founded at the suggestion +of Count Rumford in 1799, which represented the growth of a popular +interest in the scientific discoveries.</p> + +<p>The general tone of these little societies represents, of course, the +tendency of the upper stratum of the industrial classes. In their own +eyes they naturally represented the progressive element of society. +They were Whigs—for 'radicalism' was not yet invented—but Whigs of +the left wing; accepting the aristocratic precedency, but looking +askance at the aristocratic prejudices. They were rationalists, too, +in principle, but again within limits: openly avowing the doctrines +which in the Established church had still to be sheltered by +ostensible conformity to the traditional dogmas. Many of them +professed the Unitarianism to which the old +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +dissenting bodies +inclined. 'Unitarianism,' said shrewd old Erasmus Darwin, 'is a +feather-bed for a dying Christian.' But at present such men as +Priestley and Price were only so far on the road to a thorough +rationalism as to denounce the corruptions of Christianity, as they +denounced abuses in politics, without anticipating a revolutionary +change in church and state. Priestley, for example, combined +'materialism' and 'determinism' with Christianity and a belief in +miracles, and controverted Horsley upon one side and Paine on the +other.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> <i>Wealth of Nations</i>, bk. ii. ch. iii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> <i>Wealth of Nations</i>, bk. i. ch. xi. § 1.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> bk. i. ch. xi. conclusion.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> Smiles's <i>Watt and Boulton</i>, p. 292.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">II. <a name="II_II" id="II_II"></a>THE AGRICULTURISTS</p> + +<p>The general spirit represented by such movements was by no means +confined to the commercial or manufacturing classes; and its most +characteristic embodiment is to be found in the writings of a leading +agriculturist.</p> + +<p>Arthur Young,<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> born in 1741, was the son of a clergyman, who had +also a small ancestral property at Bradfield, near Bury St. Edmunds. +Accidents led to his becoming a farmer at an early age. He showed more +zeal than discretion, and after trying three thousand experiments on +his farm, he was glad to pay £100 to another tenant to take his farm +off his hands. This experience as a practical agriculturist, far from +discouraging him, qualified him in his own opinion to speak with +authority, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +and he became a devoted missionary of the gospel of +agricultural improvement. The enthusiasm with which he admired more +successful labourers in the cause, and the indignation with which he +regards the sluggish and retrograde, are charming. His kindliness, his +keen interest in the prosperity of all men, rich or poor, his ardent +belief in progress, combined with his quickness of observation, give a +charm to the writings which embody his experience. Tours in England +and a temporary land-agency in Ireland supplied him with materials for +books which made him known both in England and on the Continent. In +1779 he returned to Bradfield, where he soon afterwards came into +possession of his paternal estate, which became his permanent home. In +1784 he tried to extend his propaganda by bringing out the <i>Annals of +Agriculture</i>—a monthly publication, of which forty-five half-yearly +volumes appeared. He had many able contributors and himself wrote many +interesting articles, but the pecuniary results were mainly negative. +In 1791 his circulation was only 350 copies.<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> Meanwhile his +acquaintance with the duc de Liancourt led to tours in France from +1788 to 1790. His <i>Travels in France</i>, first published in 1792, has +become a classic. In 1793 Young was made secretary to the Board of +Agriculture, of which I shall speak presently. He became known in +London society as well as in agricultural circles. He was a handsome +and attractive man, a charming companion, and widely recognised as an +agricultural authority. The empress of Russia sent him a snuff-box; +'Farmer George' presented a merino ram; he was elected member of +learned societies; he visited +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +Burke at Beaconsfield, Pitt at +Holmwood, and was a friend of Wilberforce and of Jeremy Bentham.</p> + +<p>Young had many domestic troubles. His marriage was not congenial; the +loss of a tenderly loved daughter in 1797 permanently saddened him; he +became blind, and in his later years sought comfort in religious +meditation and in preaching to his poorer neighbours. He died 20th +April 1820. He left behind him a gigantic history of agriculture, +filling ten folio volumes of manuscript, which, though reduced to six +by an enthusiastic disciple after his death, have never found their +way to publication.</p> + +<p>The <i>Travels in France</i>, Young's best book, owes one merit to the +advice of a judicious friend, who remarked that the previous tours had +suffered from the absence of the personal details which interest the +common reader. The insertion of these makes Young's account of his +French tours one of the most charming as well as most instructive +books of the kind. It gives the vivid impression made upon a keen and +kindly observer in all their freshness. He sensibly retained the +expressions of opinion made at the time. 'I may remark at present,' he +says,<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> 'that although I was totally mistaken in my prediction, yet, +on a revision, I think I was right in it.' It was right, he means, +upon the data then known to him, and he leaves the unfulfilled +prediction as it was. The book is frequently cited in justification of +the revolution, and it may be fairly urged that his authority is of +the more weight, because he does not start from any sympathy with +revolutionary principles. Young was in Paris when the oath was taken +at the tennis-court; and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +makes his reflections upon the beauty of the +British Constitution, and the folly of visionary reforms, in a spirit +which might have satisfied Burke. He was therefore not altogether +inconsistent when, after the outrages, he condemned the revolution, +however much the facts which he describes may tend to explain the +inevitableness of the catastrophe. At any rate, his views are worth +notice by the indications which they give of the mental attitude of a +typical English observer.</p> + +<p>Young in his vivacious way struck out some of the phrases which became +proverbial with later economists. 'Give a man the secure possession of +a bleak rock and he will turn it into a garden. Give him a nine years' +lease of a garden, and he will convert it into a desert.'<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> 'The +magic of <small>PROPERTY</small> turns sand to gold.'<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> He is delighted with the +comfort of the small proprietors near Pau, which reminds him of +English districts still inhabited by small yeomen.<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> Passing to a +less fortunate region, he explains that the prince de Soubise has a +vast property there. The property of a grand 'seigneur' is sure to be +a desert.<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> The signs which indicate such properties are 'wastes, +<i>landes</i>, deserts, fern, ling.' The neighbourhood of the great +residences is well peopled—'with deer, wild boars, and wolves,' 'Oh,' +he exclaims, 'if I was the legislator of France for a day, I would +make such great lords skip again!' 'Why,' he asked, 'were the people +miserable in lower Savoy?' '<i>Because</i>', was the reply, '<i>there are +seigneurs everywhere</i>'.<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> Misery in Brittany was due 'to the +execrable maxims of despotism +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +or the equally detestable prejudices of +a feudal nobility.'<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> There was nothing, he said, in the province +but 'privileges and poverty,'<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> privileges of the nobles and poverty +of the peasants.</p> + +<p>Young was profoundly convinced, moreover, that, as he says more than +once<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> 'everything in this world depends on government.' He is +astonished at the stupidity and ignorance of the provincial +population, and ascribes it to the lethargy produced by despotism.<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> +He contrasts it with 'the energetic and rapid circulation of wealth, +animation, and intelligence of England,' where 'blacksmiths and +carpenters' would discuss every political event. And yet he heartily +admires some of the results of a centralised monarchy. He compares the +miserable roads in Catalonia on the Spanish side of the frontier with +the magnificent causeways and bridges on the French side. The +difference is due to the 'one all-powerful cause that instigates +mankind ... government.'<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> He admires the noble public works, the +canal of Languedoc, the harbours at Cherbourg and Havre, and the +<i>école vétérinaire</i> where agriculture is taught upon scientific +principles. He is struck by the curious contrast between France and +England. In France the splendid roads are used by few travellers, and +the inns are filthy pothouses; in England there are detestable roads, +but a comparatively enormous traffic. When he wished to make the great +nobles 'skip' he does not generally mean confiscation. He sees indeed +one place where in 1790 the poor had seized a piece of waste land, +declaring that the poor were the nation, and that the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +waste belonged +to the nation. He declares<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> that he considers their action 'wise, +rational, and philosophical,' and wishes that there were a law to make +such conduct legal in England. But his more general desire is that the +landowners should be compelled to do their duty. He complains that the +nobles live in 'wretched holes' in the country in order to save the +means of expenditure upon theatres, entertainments, and gambling in +the towns.<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> 'Banishment alone will force the French nobility to do +what the English do for pleasure—to reside upon and adorn their +estates.'<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> He explains to a French friend that English agriculture +has flourished 'in spite of the teeth of our ministers'; we have had +many Colberts, but not one Sully<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a>; and we should have done much +better, he thinks, had agriculture received the same attention as +commerce. This is the reverse of Adam Smith's remark upon the superior +liberality of the English country-gentleman, who did not, like the +manufacturers, invoke protection and interference. In truth, Young +desired both advantages, the vigour of a centralised government and +the energy of an independent aristocracy. His absence of any general +theory enables him to do justice in detail at the cost of consistency +in general theory. In France, as he saw, the nobility had become in +the main an encumbrance, a mere dead weight upon the energies of the +agriculturist. But he did not infer that large properties in land were +bad in themselves; for in England he saw that the landowners were the +really energetic and improving class. He naturally looked at the +problem from the point of view of an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +intelligent land-agent. He is +full of benevolent wishes for the labourer, and sympathises with the +attempt to stimulate their industry and improve their dwellings, and +denounces oppression whether in France or Ireland with the heartiest +goodwill. But it is characteristic of the position that such a man—an +enthusiastic advocate of industrial progress—was a hearty admirer of +the English landowner. He sets out upon his first tour, announcing +that he does not write for farmers, of whom not one in five thousand +reads anything, but for the country-gentlemen, who are the great +improvers. Tull, who introduced turnips; Weston, who introduced +clover; Lord Townshend and Allen, who introduced 'marling' in Norfolk, +were all country-gentlemen, and it is from them that he expects +improvement. He travels everywhere, delighting in their new houses and +parks, their picture galleries, and their gardens laid out by Kent or +'Capability Brown'; he admires scenery, climbs Skiddaw, and is +rapturous over views of the Alps and Pyrenees; but he is thrown into a +rage by the sight of wastes, wherever improvement is possible. What +delights him is an estate with a fine country-house of Palladian +architecture ('Gothic' is with him still a term of abuse),<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> with +grounds well laid out and a good home-farm, where experiments are +being tried, and surrounded by an estate in which the farm-buildings +show the effects of the landlord's good example and judicious +treatment of his tenantry. There was no want of such examples. He +admires the marquis of Rockingham, at once the most honourable of +statesmen and most judicious of improvers. He sings the praises of the +duke of Portland, the earl of Darlington, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +and the duke of +Northumberland. An incautious announcement of the death of the duke of +Grafton, remembered chiefly as one of the victims of Junius, but known +to Young for his careful experiments in sheep-breeding, produced a +burst of tears, which, as he believed, cost him his eyesight. His +friend, the fifth duke of Bedford (died 1802), was one of the greatest +improvers for the South, and was succeeded by another friend, the +famous Coke of Holkham, afterwards earl of Leicester, who is said to +have spent half a million upon the improvement of his property. Young +appeals to the class in which such men were leaders, and urges them, +not against their wishes, we may suppose, and, no doubt, with much +good sense, to take to their task in the true spirit of business. +Nothing, he declares, is more out of place than the boast of some +great landowners that they never raise their rents.<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> High rents +produce industry. The man who doubles his rents benefits the country +more than he benefits himself. Even in Ireland,<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> a rise of rents is +one great cause of improvement, though the rent should not be +excessive, and the system of middlemen is altogether detestable. One +odd suggestion is characteristic.<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> He hears that wages are higher +in London than elsewhere. Now, he says, in a trading country low wages +are essential. He wonders, therefore, that the legislature does not +limit the growth of London.</p> + +<p>This, we may guess, is one of the petulant utterances of early years +which he would have disavowed or qualified upon maturer reflection. +But Young is essentially +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +an apostle of the 'glorious spirit of +improvement,'<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> which has converted Norfolk sheep-walks into arable +fields, and was spreading throughout the country and even into +Ireland. His hero is the energetic landowner, who makes two blades of +grass grow where one grew before; who introduces new breeds of cattle +and new courses of husbandry. He is so far in sympathy with the +<i>Wealth of Nations</i>, although he says of that book that, while he +knows of 'no abler work,' he knows of none 'fuller of poisonous +errors.'<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> Young, that is, sympathised with the doctrine of the +physiocrats that agriculture was the one source of real wealth, and +took Smith to be too much on the side of commerce. Young, however, was +as enthusiastic a free-trader as Smith. He naturally denounces the +selfishness of the manufacturers who, in 1788, objected to the free +export of English wool,<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> but he also assails monopoly in general. +The whole system, he says (on occasion of Pitt's French treaty), is +rotten to the core. The 'vital spring and animating soul of commerce +is <small>LIBERTY</small>.'<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> Though he talks of the balance of trade, he argues in +the spirit of Smith or Cobden that we are benefited by the wealth of +our customers. If we have to import more silk, we shall export more +cloth. Young, indeed, was everything but a believer in any dogmatic or +consistent system of Political Economy, or, as he still calls it, +Political Arithmetic. His opinions were not of the kind which can be +bound to any rigid formulæ. After investigating the restrictions of +rent and wages in different districts, he quietly accepts the +conclusion that the difference is due to accident.<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> He +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +has as yet +no fear of Malthus before his eyes. He is roused to indignation by the +pessimist theory then common, that population was decaying.<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> +Everywhere he sees signs of progress; buildings, plantations, woods, +and canals. Employment, he says, creates population, stimulates +industry, and attracts labour from backward districts. The increase of +numbers is an unqualified benefit. He has no dread of excess. In +Ireland, he observes, no one is fool enough to deny that population is +increasing, though people deny it in England, 'even in the most +productive period of her industry and wealth.'<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> One cause of this +blessing is the absence or the poor-law. The English poor-law is +detestable to him for a reason which contrasts significantly with the +later opinion. The laws were made 'in the very spirit of +depopulation'; they are 'monuments of barbarity and mischief'; for +they give to every parish an interest in keeping down the population. +This tendency was in the eyes of the later economist a redeeming +feature in the old system; though it had been then so modified as to +stimulate what they took to be the curse, as Young held it to be the +blessing, of a rapid increase of population.</p> + +<p>With such views Young was a keen advocate of the process of enclosure +which was going on with increasing rapidity. He found a colleague, who +may be briefly noticed as a remarkable representative of the same +movement. Sir John Sinclair (1754-1835)<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> was heir to an estate of +sixty thousand acres in Caithness which produced only £2300 a year, +subject to many encumbrances. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +The region was still in a primitive +state. There were no roads: agriculture was of the crudest kind; part +of the rent was still paid in feudal services; the natives were too +ignorant or lazy to fish, and there were no harbours. Trees were +scarce enough to justify Johnson, and a list of all the trees in the +country included currant-bushes.<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> Sinclair was a pupil of the poet +Logan: studied under Blair at Edinburgh and Millar at Glasgow; became +known to Adam Smith, and, after a short time at Oxford, was called to +the English bar. Sinclair was a man of enormous energy, though not of +vivacious intellect. He belonged to the prosaic breed, which created +the 'dismal science,' and seems to have been regarded as a stupendous +bore. Bores, however, represent a social force not to be despised, and +Sinclair was no exception.</p> + +<p>His father died when he was sixteen. When twenty years old he +collected his tenants, and in one night made a road across a hill +which had been pronounced impracticable. He was an enthusiastic +admirer of Gaelic traditions; defended the authenticity of Ossian; +supported Highland games, and brought Italian travellers to listen to +the music of the bagpipes. When he presented himself to his tenants in +the Highland costume, on the withdrawal of its prohibition, they +expected him to lead them in a foray upon the lowlands in the name of +Charles Edward. He afterwards raised a regiment of 'fencibles' which +served in Ireland in 1798, and, when disbanded, sent a large +contingent to the Egyptian expedition. But he rendered more peaceful +services to his country. He formed new farms; he enclosed several +thousand acres; as head +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +of the 'British Wool Society,' he introduced +the Cheviots or 'long sheep' to the North—an improvement which is +said to have doubled the rents of many estates; he introduced +agricultural shows; he persuaded government in 1801 to devote the +proceeds of the confiscated estates of Jacobites to the improvement of +Scottish communications; he helped to introduce fisheries and even +manufactures; and was a main agent in the change which made Caithness +one of the most rapidly improving parts of the country. His son +assures us that he took every means to obviate the incidental evils +which have been the pretexts of denunciators of similar improvements. +Sinclair gained a certain reputation by a <i>History of the Revenue</i> +(1785-90), and, like Malthus, travelled on the Continent to improve +his knowledge. His first book finished, he began the great statistical +work by which he is best remembered. He is said to have introduced +into English the name of 'statistics,' for the researches of which all +economical writers were beginning to feel the necessity. He certainly +did much to introduce the reality. Sinclair circulated a number of +queries (upon 'natural history,' 'population,' 'productions,' and +'miscellaneous' informations) to every parish minister in Scotland. He +surmounted various jealousies naturally excited, and the ultimate +result was the <i>Statistical Account of Scotland</i>, which appeared in +twenty-one volumes between 1791 and 1799.<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> It gives an account of +every parish in Scotland, and was of great value as supplying a basis +for all social investigations. Sinclair bore the expense, and gave the +profits to the 'Sons of the Clergy. +'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +In 1793 Sinclair, who had been +in parliament since 1780, made himself useful to Pitt in connection +with the issue of exchequer bills to meet the commercial crisis. He +begged in return for the foundation of a Board of Agriculture. He +became the president and Arthur Young the secretary;<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> and the board +represented their common aspirations. It was a rather anomalous body, +something between a government office and such an institution as the +Royal Society; and was supported by an annual grant of £3000. The +first aim of the board was to produce a statistical account of England +on the plan of the Scottish account. The English clergy, however, were +suspicious; they thought, it seems, that the collection of statistics +meant an attack upon tithes; and Young's frequent denunciation of +tithes as discouraging agricultural improvement suggests some excuse +for the belief. The plan had to be dropped; a less thoroughgoing +description of the counties was substituted; and a good many 'Views' +of the agriculture of different counties were published in 1794 and +succeeding years. The board did its best to be active with narrow +means. It circulated information, distributed medals, and brought +agricultural improvers together. It encouraged the publication of +Erasmus Darwin's <i>Phytologia</i> (1799), and procured a series of +lectures from Humphry Davy, afterwards published as <i>Elements of +Agricultural Chemistry</i> (1813). Sinclair also claims to have +encouraged Macadam (1756-1836), the road-maker, and Meikle, the +inventor of the thrashing-machine. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +One great aim of the board was to +promote enclosures. Young observes in the introductory paper to the +<i>Annals</i> that within forty years nine hundred bills had been passed +affecting about a million acres. This included wastes, but the greater +part was already cultivated under the 'constraint and imperfection of +the open field system,' a relic of the 'barbarity of our ancestors.' +Enclosures involved procuring acts of parliament—a consequent +expenditure, as Young estimates, of some £2000 in each case;<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> and +as they were generally obtained by the great landowners, there was a +frequent neglect of the rights of the poor and of the smaller holders. +The remedy proposed was a general enclosure act; and such an act +passed the House of Commons in 1798, but was thrown out by the Lords. +An act was not obtained till after the Reform Bill. Sinclair, however, +obtained some modification of the procedure; which, it is said, +facilitated the passage of private bills. They became more numerous in +later years, though other causes obviously co-operated. Meanwhile, it +is characteristic that Sinclair and Young regarded wastes as a +backwoodsman regarded a forest. The incidental injury to poor +commoners was not unnoticed, and became one of the topics of Cobbett's +eloquence. But to the ardent agriculturist the existence of a bit of +waste land was a simple proof of barbarism. Sinclair's favourite +toast, we are told, was 'May commons become uncommon'—his one attempt +at a joke. He prayed that Epping Forest and Finchley Common might pass +under the yoke as well as our foreign enemies. Young is driven out of +all patience by the sight of 'fern, ling, and other trumpery' +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +usurping the place of possible arable fields.<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a> He groans in spirit +upon Salisbury Plain, which might be made to produce all the corn we +import.<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> Enfield Chase, he declares, is a 'real nuisance to the +public.'<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> We may be glad that the zeal for enclosure was not +successful in all its aims; but this view of philanthropic and +energetic improvers is characteristic.</p> + +<p>It is said<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> that Young and Sinclair ruined the Board of Agriculture +by making it a kind of political debating club. It died in 1822. +Sinclair obtained an appointment in Scotland, and continued to labour +unremittingly. He carried on a correspondence with all manner of +people, including Washington, Eldon, Catholic bishops in Ireland, +financiers and agriculturists on the Continent, and the most active +economists in England. He suggested a subject for a poem to Scott.<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> +He wrote pamphlets about cash-payments, Catholic Emancipation, and the +Reform Bill, always disagreeing with all parties. He projected four +codes which were to summarise all human knowledge upon health, +agriculture, political economy, and religion. <i>The Code of Health</i> (4 +vols., 1807) went through six editions; <i>The Code of Agriculture</i> +appeared in 1829; but the world has not been enriched by the others. +He died at Edinburgh on the 21st September 1835.</p> + +<p>I have dwelt so far upon Young because he is the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +best representative +of that 'glorious spirit of improvement' which was transforming the +whole social structure. Young's view of the French revolution +indicates one marked characteristic of that spirit. He denounces the +French seigneur because he is lethargic. He admires the English +nobleman because he is energetic. The French noble may even deserve +confiscation; but he has not the slightest intention of applying the +same remedy in England, where squires and noblemen are the very source +of all improvement. He holds that government is everything, and +admires the great works of the French despotism: and yet he is a +thorough admirer of the liberties enjoyed under the British +Constitution, the essential nature of which makes similar works +impossible. I need not ask whether Young's logic could be justified; +though it would obviously require for justification a thoroughly +'empirical' view, or, in other words, the admission that different +circumstances may require totally different institutions. The view, +however, which was congenial to the prevalent spirit of improvement +must be noted.</p> + +<p>It might be stated as a paradox that, whereas in France the most +palpable evils arose from the excessive power of the central +government, and in England the most palpable evils arose from the +feebleness of the central government, the French reformers demanded +more government and the English reformers demanded less government. +'Everything for the people, nothing by the people,' was, as Mr. Morley +remarks,<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> the maxim of the French +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +economists. The solution seems +to be easy. In France, reformers such as Turgot and the economists +were in favour of an enlightened despotism, because the state meant a +centralised power which might be turned against the aristocracy. Once +'enlightened' it would suppress the exclusive privileges of a class +which, doing nothing in return, had become a mere burthen or dead +weight encumbering all social development. But in England the +privileged class was identical with the governing class. The political +liberty of which Englishmen were rightfully proud, the 'rule of law' +which made every official responsible to the ordinary course of +justice, and the actual discharge of their duties by the governing +order, saved it from being the objects of a jealous class hatred. +While in France government was staggering under an ever-accumulating +resentment against the aristocracy, the contemporary position in +England was, on the whole, one of political apathy. The country, +though it had lost its colonies, was making unprecedented progress in +wealth; commerce, manufactures, and agriculture were being developed +by the energy of individuals; and Pitt was beginning to apply Adam +Smith's principles to finance. The cry for parliamentary reform died +out: neither Whigs nor Tories really cared for it; and the 'glorious +spirit of improvement' showed itself in an energy which had little +political application. The nobility was not an incubus suppressing +individual energy and confronted by the state, but was itself the +state; and its individual members were often leaders in industrial +improvement. Discontent, therefore, took in the main a different form. +Some government was, of course, necessary, and the existing system was +too much in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +harmony, even in its defects, with the social order to +provoke any distinct revolutionary sentiment. Englishmen were not only +satisfied with their main institutions, but regarded them with +exaggerated complacency. But, though there was no organic disorder, +there were plenty of abuses to be remedied. The ruling class, it +seemed, did its duties in the main, but took unconscionable +perquisites in return. If it 'farmed' them, it was right that it +should have a beneficial interest in the concern; but that interest +might be excessive. In many directions abuses were growing up which +required remedy, though not a subversion of the system under which +they had been generated. It was not desired—unless by a very few +theorists—to make any sweeping redistribution of power; but it was +eminently desirable to find some means of better regulating many evil +practices. The attack upon such practices might ultimately +suggest—as, in fact, it did suggest—the necessity of far more +thoroughgoing reforms. For the present, however, the characteristic +mark of English reformers was this limitation of their schemes, and a +mark which is especially evident in Bentham and his followers. I will +speak, therefore, of the many questions which were arising, partly for +these reasons and partly because the Utilitarian theory was in great +part moulded by the particular problems which they had to argue. +</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> Young's <i>Travels in France</i> was republished in 1892, +with a preface and short life by Miss Betham Edwards. She has since +(1898) published his autobiography. See also the autobiographical +sketch in the <i>Annals of Agriculture</i>, xv. 152-97. Young's <i>Farmer's +Letters</i> first appeared in 1767; his <i>Tours</i> in the Southern, +Northern, and Eastern Counties in 1768, 1770, and 1771; his <i>Tour in +Ireland</i> in 1780; and his <i>Travels in France</i> in 1792. A useful +bibliography, containing a list of his many publications, is appended +to the edition of the <i>Tour in Ireland</i> edited by Mr. A. W. Hutton in +1892.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> <i>Annals</i>, xv. 166.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> <i>Travels in France</i> (1892), p. 184 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> <i>Travels in France</i>, p. 54.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 109.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 61.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 70.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 279.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> <i>Travels in France</i>, p. 125.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 131.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> pp. 198, 298.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> pp. 55, 193, 199, 237.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 43.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> <i>Travels in France</i>, pp. 291-92.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 132.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 66.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 131.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> e.g. <i>Southern Tour</i>, p. 103; <i>Northern Tour</i>, p. 180 +(York Cathedral).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> <i>Northern Tour</i>, iv. 344, 377.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> <i>Irish Tour</i>, ii. 114.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> <i>Southern Tour</i>, p. 326.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> <i>Southern Tour</i>, p. 22.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> <i>Annals</i>, i. 380.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vol, x.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> iv. 17.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> <i>Southern Tour</i>, p. 262; <i>Northern Tour</i>, ii. 412.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> <i>Northern Tour</i>, iv. 410, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> <i>Irish Tour</i>, ii. 118-19.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> <i>Memoirs of Sir John Sinclair</i>, by his son. 2 vols., +1837.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> <i>Memoirs</i>, i. 338.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> <i>A New Statistical Account</i>, replacing this, appeared in +twenty-four volumes from 1834 to 1844.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> He was president for the first five years, and again, +from 1806 till 1813. For an account of this, see Sir Ernest Clarke's +<i>History of the Board of Agriculture</i>, 1898.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> <i>Northern Tour</i>, i. 222-32.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> <i>Northern Tour</i>, ii. 186.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> <i>Southern Tour</i>, p. 20.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> <i>Northern Tour</i>, iii. 365.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> Arthur Young had a low opinion of Sinclair, whom he took +to be a pushing and consequential busybody, more anxious to make a +noise than to be useful. See Young's <i>Autobiography</i> (1898), pp. 243, +315, 437. Sir Ernest Clarke points out the injury done by Sinclair's +hasty and blundering extravagance; but also shows that the board did +great service in stimulating agricultural improvement.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> Scott's <i>Letters</i>, i. 202.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> Essay on 'Turgot.' See, in Daire's Collection of the +<i>Économistes</i>, the arguments of Quesnay (p. 81), Dupont de Nemours (p. +360), and Mercier de la Rivière in favour of a legal (as distinguished +from an 'arbitrary') despotism.</p></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>SOCIAL PROBLEMS</h3> + +<p class="scs">I. <a name="III_I" id="III_I"></a>PAUPERISM</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +Perhaps the gravest of all the problems which were to occupy the +coming generation was the problem of pauperism. The view taken by the +Utilitarians was highly characteristic and important. I will try to +indicate the general position of intelligent observers at the end of +the century by referring to the remarkable book of Sir Frederick +Morton Eden. Its purport is explained by the title: 'The State of the +Poor; or, an History of the Labouring Classes of England from the +Norman Conquest to the present period; in which are particularly +considered their domestic economy, with respect to diet, dress, fuel, +and habitation; and the various plans which have from time to time +been proposed and adopted for the relief of the poor' (3 vols. 4to, +1797). Eden<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> (1766-1809) was a man of good family and nephew of the +first Lord Auckland, who negotiated Pitt's commercial treaty. He +graduated as B.A. from Christ Church, Oxford, in 1787; married in +1792, and at his death (14th Nov. 1809) was chairman of the Globe +Insurance Company. He wrote +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +various pamphlets upon economical topics; +contributed letters signed 'Philanglus' to Cobbett's <i>Porcupine</i>, the +anti-jacobin paper of the day; and is described by Bentham<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> as a +'declared disciple' and a 'highly valued friend.' He may be reckoned, +therefore, as a Utilitarian, though politically he was a Conservative. +He seems to have been a man of literary tastes as well as a man of +business, and his book is a clear and able statement of the points at +issue.</p> + +<p>Eden's attention had been drawn to the subject by the distress which +followed the outbreak of the revolutionary war. He employed an agent +who travelled through the country for a year with a set of queries +drawn up after the model of those prepared by Sinclair for his +<i>Statistical Account of Scotland</i>. He thus anticipated the remarkable +investigation made in our own time by Mr. Charles Booth. Eden made +personal inquiries and studied the literature of the subject. He had a +precursor in Richard Burn (1709-1785), whose <i>History of the +Poor-laws</i> appeared in 1764, and a competitor in John Ruggles, whose +<i>History of the Poor</i> first appeared in Arthur Young's <i>Annals</i>, and +was published as a book in 1793 (second edition, 1797). Eden's work +eclipsed Ruggles's. It has a permanent value as a collection of facts; +and was a sign of the growing sense of the importance of accurate +statistical research. The historian of the social condition of the +people should be grateful to one who broke ground at a time when the +difficulty of obtaining a sound base for social inquiries began to +make itself generally felt. The value of the book for historical +purposes lies beyond my sphere. His first volume, I may say, gives a +history of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +legislation from the earliest period; and contains also a +valuable account of the voluminous literature which had grown up +during the two preceding centuries. The other two summarise the +reports which he had received. I will only say enough to indicate +certain critical points. Eden's book unfortunately was to mark, not a +solution of the difficulty but, the emergence of a series of problems +which were to increase in complexity and ominous significance through +the next generation.</p> + +<p>The general history of the poor-law is sufficiently familiar.<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> The +mediæval statutes take us to a period at which the labourer was still +regarded as a serf; and a man who had left his village was treated +like a fugitive slave. A long series of statutes regulated the +treatment of the 'vagabond.' The vagabond, however, had become +differentiated from the pauper. The decay of the ancient order of +society and its corresponding institutions had led to a new set of +problems; and the famous statute of Elizabeth (1601) had laid down the +main lines of the system which is still in operation.</p> + +<p>When the labourer was regarded as in a servile condition, he might be +supported from the motives which lead an owner to support his slaves, +or by the charitable energies organised by ecclesiastical +institutions. He had now ceased to be a serf, and the institutions +which helped the poor man or maintained the beggar were wrecked. The +Elizabethan statute gave him, therefore, a legal claim to be +supported, and, on the other hand, directed that he should be made to +work for his living. The assumption is still that every man is a +member of a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +little social circle. He belongs to his parish, and it is +his fellow-parishioners who are bound to support him. So long as this +corresponded to facts, the system could work satisfactorily. With the +spread of commerce, and the growth of a less settled population, +difficulties necessarily arose. The pauper and the vagabond represent +a kind of social extravasation; the 'masterless man' who has strayed +from his legitimate place or has become a superfluity in his own +circle. The vagabond could be flogged, sent to prison, or if necessary +hanged, but it was more difficult to settle what to do with a man who +was not a criminal, but simply a product in excess of demand. All +manner of solutions had been suggested by philanthropists and partly +adopted by the legislature. One point which especially concerns us is +the awkwardness or absence of an appropriate administrative machinery.</p> + +<p>The parish, the unit on which the pauper had claims, meant the persons +upon whom the poor-rate was assessed. These were mainly farmers and +small tradesmen who formed the rather vague body called the vestry. +'Overseers' were appointed by the ratepayers themselves; they were not +paid, and the disagreeable office was taken in turn for short periods. +The most obvious motive with the average ratepayer was of course to +keep down the rates and to get the burthen of the poor as much as +possible out of his own parish. Each parish had at least an interest +in economy. But the economical interest also produced flagrant evils.</p> + +<p>In the first place, there was the war between parishes. The law of +settlement—which was to decide to what parish a pauper +belonged—originated in an act of 1662. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +Eden observes that the short +clause in this short act had brought more profit to the lawyers than +'any other point in the English jurisprudence.'<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> It is said that +the expense of such a litigation before the act of 1834 averaged from +£300,000 to £350,000 a year.<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> Each parish naturally endeavoured to +shift the burthen upon its neighbours; and was protected by laws which +enabled it to resist the immigration of labourers or actually to expel +them when likely to become chargeable. This law is denounced by Adam +Smith<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a> as a 'violation of natural liberty and justice.' It was +often harder, he declared, for a poor man to cross the artificial +boundaries of his parish than to cross a mountain ridge or an arm of +the sea. There was, he declared, hardly a poor man in England over +forty who had not been at some time 'cruelly oppressed' by the working +of this law. Eden thinks that Smith had exaggerated the evil: but a +law which operated by preventing a free circulation of labour, and +made it hard for a poor man to seek the best price for his only +saleable commodity, was, so far, opposed to the fundamental principles +common to Smith and Eden. The law, too, might be used oppressively by +the niggardly and narrow-minded. The overseer, as Burn complained,<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> +was often a petty tyrant: his aim was to depopulate his parish; to +prevent the poor from obtaining a settlement; to make the workhouse a +terror by placing it under the management of a bully; and by all +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +kinds of chicanery to keep down the rates at whatever cost to the +comfort and morality of the poor. This explains the view taken by +Arthur Young, and generally accepted at the period, that the poor-law +meant depopulation. Workhouses had been started in the seventeenth +century<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> with the amiable intention of providing the industrious +poor with work. Children might be trained to industry and the pauper +might be made self-supporting. Workhouses were expected that is, to +provide not only work but wages. Defoe, in his <i>Giving Alms no +Charity</i>, pointed out the obvious objections to the workhouse +considered as an institution capable of competing with the ordinary +industries. Workhouses, in fact, soon ceased to be profitable. Their +value, however, in supplying a test for destitution was recognised; +and by an act of 1722, parishes were allowed to set up workhouses, +separately or in combination, and to strike off the lists of the poor +those who refused to enter them. This was the germ of the later +'workhouse test.'<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> When grievances arose, the invariable plan, as +Nicholls observes,<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> was to increase the power of the justices. +Their discretion was regarded 'as a certain cure for every shortcoming +of the law and every evil arising out of it.' The great report of 1834 +traces this tendency<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> to a clause in an act passed in the reign of +William <small>III.</small>, which was intended to allow the justices to check the +extravagance of parish officers. They were empowered to strike off +persons improperly relieved. This incidental regulation, widened by +subsequent interpretations, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +allowed the magistrates to order relief, +and thereby introduced an incredible amount of demoralisation.</p> + +<p>The course was natural enough, and indeed apparently inevitable. The +justices of the peace represented the only authority which could be +called in to regulate abuses arising from the incapacity and narrow +local interests of the multitudinous vestries. The schemes of +improvement generally involved some plan for a larger area. If a +hundred or a county were taken for the unit, the devices which +depopulated a parish would no longer be applicable.<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> The only +scheme actually carried was embodied in 'Gilbert's act' (1782), +obtained by Thomas Gilbert (1720-1798), an agent of the duke of +Bridgewater, and an active advocate of poor-law reform in the House of +Commons. This scheme was intended as a temporary expedient during the +distress caused by the American War; and a larger and more permanent +scheme which it was to introduce failed to become law. It enabled +parishes to combine if they chose to provide common workhouses, and to +appoint 'guardians.' The justices, as usual, received more powers in +order to suppress the harsh dealing of the old parochial authorities. +The guardians, it was assumed, could always find 'work,' and they were +to relieve the able-bodied without applying the workhouse test. The +act, readily adopted, thus became a landmark in the growth of +laxity.<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +At the end of the century a rapid development of pauperism had taken +place. The expense, as Eden had to complain, had doubled in twenty +years. This took place simultaneously with the great development of +manufactures. It is not perhaps surprising, though it may be +melancholy, that increase of wealth shall be accompanied by increase +of pauperism. Where there are many rich men, there will be a better +field for thieves and beggars. A life of dependence becomes easier +though it need not necessarily be adopted. Whatever may have been the +relation of the two phenomena, the social revolution made the old +social arrangements more inadequate. Great aggregations of workmen +were formed in towns, which were still only villages in a legal sense. +Fluctuations of trade, due to war or speculation, brought distress to +the improvident; and the old assumption that every man had a proper +place in a small circle, where his neighbours knew all about him, was +further than ever from being verified. One painful result was already +beginning to show itself. Neglected children in great towns had +already excited compassion. Thomas Coram (1668?-1751) had been shocked +by the sight of dying children exposed in the streets of London, and +succeeded in establishing the Foundling Hospital (founded in 1742). In +1762, Jonas Hanway (1712-1786) obtained a law for boarding out +children born within the bills of mortality. The demand for children's +labour, produced by the factories, seemed naturally enough to offer a +better chance for extending such charities. Unfortunately among the +people who took advantage of it were parish officials, eager to get +children off their hands, and manufacturers concerned only to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> make +money out of childish labour. Hence arose the shameful system for +which remedies (as I shall have to notice) had to be sought in a later +generation.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the outbreak of the revolutionary war had made the question +urgent. When Manchester trade suffered, as Eden tells us in his +reports, many workmen enlisted in the army, and left their children to +be supported by the parish. Bad seasons followed in 1794 and 1795, and +there was great distress in the agricultural districts. The governing +classes became alarmed. In December 1795 Whitbread introduced a bill +providing that the justices of the peace should fix a minimum rate of +wages. Upon a motion for the second reading, Pitt made the famous +speech (12th December) including the often-quoted statement that when +a man had a family, relief should be 'a matter of right and honour, +instead of a ground of opprobrium and contempt.'<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a> Pitt had in the +same speech shown his reading of Adam Smith by dwelling upon the +general objections to state interference with wages, and had argued +that more was to be gained by removing the restrictions upon the free +movement of labour. He undertook to produce a comprehensive measure; +and an elaborate bill of 130 clauses was prepared in 1796.<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a> The +rates were to be used to supplement inadequate wages; 'schools of +industry' were to be formed for the support of superabundant children; +loans might be made to the poor for the purchase of a cow;<a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> and the +possession of property was not to disqualify for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +the receiving +relief. In short, the bill seems to have been a model of misapplied +benevolence. The details were keenly criticised by Bentham, and the +bill never came to the birth. Other topics were pressing enough at +this time to account for the failure of a measure so vast in its +scope. Meanwhile something had to be done. On 6th May 1795 the +Berkshire magistrates had passed certain resolutions called from their +place of meeting, the 'Speenhamland Act of Parliament.' They provided +that the rate of wages of a labourer should be increased in proportion +to the price of corn and to the number of his family—a rule which, as +Eden observes, tended to discourage economy of food in times of +scarcity. They also sanctioned the disastrous principle of paying part +of the wages out of rates. An act passed in 1796 repealed the old +restrictions upon out-door relief; and thus, during the hard times +that were to follow, the poor-laws were adapted to produce the state +of things in which, as Cobbett says (in 1821) 'every labourer who has +children is now regularly and constantly a pauper.'<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> The result +represents a curious compromise. The landowners, whether from +benevolence or fear of revolution, desired to meet the terrible +distress of the times. Unfortunately their spasmodic interference was +guided by no fixed principles, and acted upon a class of institutions +not organised upon any definite system. The general effect seems to +have been that the ratepayers, no longer allowed to 'depopulate,' +sought to turn the compulsory stream of charity partly into their own +pockets. If they were forced to support paupers, they could contrive +to save the payment of wages. They could use the labour of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +rate-supported pauper instead of employing independent workmen. The +evils thus produced led before long to most important discussions.<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a> +The ordinary view of the poor-law was inverted. The prominent evil was +the reckless increase of a degraded population instead of the +restriction of population. Eden's own view is sufficiently indicative +of the light in which the facts showed themselves to intelligent +economists. As a disciple of Adam Smith, he accepts the rather vague +doctrine of his master about the 'balance' between labour and capital. +If labour exceeds capital, he says, the labourer must starve 'in spite +of all political regulations.'<a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a> He therefore looks with disfavour +upon the whole poor-law system. It is too deeply rooted to be +abolished, but he thinks that the amount to be raised should not be +permitted to exceed the sum levied on an average of previous years. +The only certain result of Pitt's measure would be a vast expenditure +upon a doubtful experiment: and one main purpose of his publication +was to point out the objections to the plan. He desires what seemed at +that time to be almost hopeless, a national system of education; but +his main doctrine is the wisdom of reliance upon individual effort. +The truth of the maxim '<i>pas trop gouverner</i>,' he says,<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a> has never +been better illustrated than by the contrast between friendly +societies and the poor-laws. Friendly societies had been known, though +they were still on a humble scale, from the beginning of the century, +and had tended to diminish pauperism in spite of the poor-laws. Eden +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +gives many accounts of them. They seem to have suggested a scheme +proposed by the worthy Francis Maseres<a name="FNanchor_94_94" id="FNanchor_94_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> (1731-1824) in 1772 for the +establishment of life annuities. A bill to give effect to this scheme +passed the House of Commons in 1773 with the support of Burke and +Savile, but was thrown out in the House of Lords. In 1786 John Acland +(died 1796), a Devonshire clergyman and justice of the peace, proposed +a scheme for uniting the whole nation into a kind of friendly society +for the support of the poor when out of work and in old age. It was +criticised by John Howlett (1731-1804), a clergyman who wrote much +upon the poor-laws. He attributes the growth of pauperism to the rise +of prices, and calculates that out of an increased expenditure of +£700,000, £219,000 had been raised by the rich, and the remainder +'squeezed out of the flesh, blood, and bones of the poor,' An act for +establishing Acland's crude scheme failed next year in parliament.<a name="FNanchor_95_95" id="FNanchor_95_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a> +The merit of the societies, according to Eden, was their tendency to +stimulate self-help; and how to preserve that merit, while making them +compulsory, was a difficult problem. I have said enough to mark a +critical and characteristic change of opinion. One source of evil +pointed out by contemporaries had been the absence of any central +power which could regulate and systematise the action of the petty +local bodies. The very possibility +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +of such organisation, however, +seems to have been simply inconceivable. When the local bodies became +lavish instead of over-frugal, the one remedy suggested was to abolish +the system altogether.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> See <i>Dictionary of National Biography</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, i. 255.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> See Sir G. Nicholls's <i>History of the Poor-law</i>, 1854. A +new edition, with life by H. G. Willink, appeared in 1898.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> <i>History</i>, i. 175.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> M'Culloch's note to <i>Wealth of Nations</i>, p. 65. +M'Culloch in his appendix makes some sensible remarks upon the absence +of any properly constituted parochial 'tribunal.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> <i>Wealth of Nations</i>, bk. i. ch. x.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> See passage quoted in Eden's <i>History</i>, i. 347.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> Thomas Firmin (1632-1677), a philanthropist, whose +Socinianism did not exclude him from the friendship of such liberal +bishops as Tillotson and Fowler, started a workhouse in 1676.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Nicholls (1898), ii. 14.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> (1898), ii. 123.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> <i>Report</i>, p. 67.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> William Hay, for example, carried resolutions in the +House of Commons in 1735, but failed to carry a bill which had this +object. See Eden's <i>History</i>, i. 396. Cooper in 1763 proposed to make +the hundred the unit.—Nicholls's <i>History</i>, i. 58. Fielding proposes +a similar change in London. Dean Tucker speaks of the evil of the +limited area in his <i>Manifold Causes of the Increase of the Poor</i> +(1760).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Nicholls, ii. 88.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> <i>Parl. Hist.</i> xxxii. 710.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> A full abstract is given in Edens <i>History</i>, iii. +ccclxiii. etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> Bentham observes (<i>Works</i>, viii. 448) that the cow will +require the three acres to keep it.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> Cobbett's <i>Political Works</i>, vi. 64</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> I need only note here that the first edition of +Malthus's <i>Essay</i> appeared in 1798, the year after Eden's +publication.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> Eden's <i>History</i>, i. 583.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 587.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_94_94" id="Footnote_94_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Maseres, an excellent Whig, a good mathematician, and a +respected lawyer, is perhaps best known at present from his portrait +in Charles Lamb's <i>Old Benchers</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_95_95" id="Footnote_95_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> It maybe noticed as an anticipation of modern schemes +that in 1792 Paine proposed a system of 'old age pensions,' for which +the necessary funds were to be easily obtained when universal peace +had abolished all military charges. See <i>State Trials</i>, xxv. 175.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">II. <a name="III_II" id="III_II"></a>THE POLICE</p> + +<p>The system of 'self-government' showed its weak side in this +direction. It meant that an important function was intrusted to small +bodies, quite incompetent of acting upon general principles, and +perfectly capable of petty jobbing, when unrestrained by any effective +supervision. In another direction the same tendency was even more +strikingly illustrated. Municipal institutions were almost at their +lowest point of decay. Manchester and Birmingham were two of the +largest and most rapidly growing towns. By the end of the century +Manchester had a population of 90,000 and Birmingham of 70,000. Both +were ruled, as far as they were ruled, by the remnants of old manorial +institutions. Aikin<a name="FNanchor_96_96" id="FNanchor_96_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> observes that 'Manchester (in 1795) remains an +open town; destitute (probably to its advantage) of a corporation, and +unrepresented in parliament.' It was governed by a 'boroughreeve' and +two constables elected annually at the court-leet. William Hutton, the +quaint historian of Birmingham, tells us in 1783 that the town was +still legally a village, with a high and low bailiff, a 'high and low +taster,' two 'affeerers,' and two 'leather-sealers,' In 1752 it had +been provided with a 'court of requests' for the recovery of small +debts, and in 1769 with a body of commissioners to provide for +lighting the town. This +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +was the system by which, with some +modifications, Birmingham was governed till after the Reform Bill.<a name="FNanchor_97_97" id="FNanchor_97_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a> +Hutton boasts<a name="FNanchor_98_98" id="FNanchor_98_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a> that no town was better governed or had fewer +officers. 'A town without a charter,' he says, 'is a town without a +shackle.' Perhaps he changed his opinions when his warehouses were +burnt in 1791, and the town was at the mercy of the mob till a +regiment of 'light horse' could be called in. Aikin and Hutton, +however, reflect the general opinion at a time when the town +corporations had become close and corrupt bodies, and were chiefly +'shackles' upon the energy of active members of the community. I must +leave the explanation of this decay to historians. I will only observe +that what would need explanation would seem to be rather the absence +than the presence of corruption. The English borough was not +stimulated by any pressure from a central government; nor was it a +semi-independent body in which every citizen had the strongest motives +for combining to support its independence against neighbouring towns +or invading nobles. The lower classes were ignorant, and probably +would be rather hostile than favourable to any such modest +interference with dirt and disorder as would commend themselves to the +officials. Naturally, power was left to the little cliques of +prosperous tradesmen, who formed close corporations, and spent the +revenues upon feasts or squandered them by corrupt practices. Here, as +in the poor-law, the insufficiency of the administrative body suggests +to contemporaries, not its reform, but its superfluity.</p> + +<p>The most striking account of some of the natural +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +results is in +Colquhoun's<a name="FNanchor_99_99" id="FNanchor_99_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> <i>Treatise on the Police of the Metropolis</i>. Patrick +Colquhoun (1745-1820), an energetic Scot, was born at Dumbarton in +1745, had been in business at Glasgow, where he was provost in 1782 +and 1783, and in 1789 settled in London. In 1792 he obtained through +Dundas an appointment to one of the new police magistracies created by +an act of that year. He took an active part in many schemes of social +reform; and his book gives an account of the investigations by which +his schemes were suggested and justified. It must be said, however, +parenthetically, that his statistics scarcely challenge implicit +confidence. Like Sinclair and Eden, he saw the importance of obtaining +facts and figures, but his statements are suspiciously precise and +elaborate.<a name="FNanchor_100_100" id="FNanchor_100_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a> The broad facts are clear enough.</p> + +<p>London was, he says, three miles broad and twenty-five in +circumference. The population in 1801 was 641,000. It was the largest +town, and apparently the most chaotic collection of dwellings in the +civilised world. There were, as Colquhoun asserts<a name="FNanchor_101_101" id="FNanchor_101_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_101_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a> in an +often-quoted passage, 20,000 people in it, who got up every morning +without knowing how they would get through the day. There were 5000 +public-houses, and 50,000 women supported, wholly or partly, by +prostitution. The revenues raised by crime amounted, as he calculates, +to an annual sum of, £2,000,000. There were whole classes of +professional thieves, more or less organised in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +gangs, which acted in +support of each other. There were gangs on the river, who boarded +ships at night, or lay in wait round the warehouses. The government +dockyards were systematically plundered, and the same article often +sold four times over to the officials. The absence of patrols gave +ample chance to the highwaymen then peculiar to England. Their +careers, commemorated in the <i>Newgate Calendar</i>, had a certain flavour +of Robin Hood romance, and their ranks were recruited from dissipated +apprentices and tradesmen in difficulty. The fields round London were +so constantly plundered that the rent was materially lowered. Half the +hackney coachmen, he says,<a name="FNanchor_102_102" id="FNanchor_102_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> were in league with thieves. The +number of receiving houses for stolen goods had increased in twenty +years from 300 to 3000.<a name="FNanchor_103_103" id="FNanchor_103_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> Coining was a flourishing trade, and +according to Colquhoun employed several thousand persons.<a name="FNanchor_104_104" id="FNanchor_104_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a> +Gambling had taken a fresh start about 1777 and 1778<a name="FNanchor_105_105" id="FNanchor_105_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a>; and the +keepers of tables had always money enough at command to make +convictions almost impossible. French refugees at the revolution had +introduced <i>rouge et noir</i>; and Colquhoun estimates the sums yearly +lost in gambling-houses at over £7,000,000. The gamblers might perhaps +appeal not only to the practices of their betters in the days of Fox, +but to the public lotteries. Colquhoun had various correspondents, who +do not venture to propose the abolition of a system which sanctioned +the practice, but who hope to diminish the facility for supplementary +betting on the results of the official drawing.</p> + +<p>The war had tended to increase the number of loose +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +and desperate +marauders who swarmed in the vast labyrinth of London streets. When we +consider the nature of the police by which these evils were to be +checked, and the criminal law which they administered, the wonder is +less that there were sometimes desperate riots (as in 1780) than that +London should have been ever able to resist a mob. Colquhoun, though a +patriotic Briton, has to admit that the French despots had at last +created an efficient police. The emperor, Joseph <small>II.</small>, he says, +inquired for an Austrian criminal supposed to have escaped to Paris. +You will find him, replied the head of the French police, at No. 93 of +such a street in Vienna on the second-floor room looking upon such a +church; and there he was. In England a criminal could hide himself in +a herd of his like, occasionally disturbed by the inroad of a 'Bow +Street runner,' the emissary of the 'trading justices,' formerly +represented by the two Fieldings. An act of 1792 created seven new +offices, to one of which Colquhoun had been appointed. They had one +hundred and eighty-nine paid officers under them. There were also +about one thousand constables. These were small tradesmen or artisans +upon whom the duty was imposed without remuneration for a year by +their parish, that is, by one of seventy independent bodies. A 'Tyburn +ticket,' given in reward for obtaining the conviction of a criminal +exempted a man from the discharge of such offices, and could be bought +for from £15 to £25. There were also two thousand watchmen receiving +from 8½d. up to 2s. a night. These were the true successors of +Dogberry; often infirm or aged persons appointed to keep them out of +the workhouse. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +The management of this distracted force thus depended +upon a miscellaneous set of bodies; the paid magistrates, the +officials of the city, the justices of the peace for Middlesex, and +the seventy independent parishes.</p> + +<p>The law was as defective as the administration. Colquhoun represents +the philanthropic impulse of the day, and notices<a name="FNanchor_106_106" id="FNanchor_106_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> that in 1787 +Joseph <small>II.</small> had abolished capital punishment. His chief authority for +more merciful methods is Beccaria; and it is worth remarking, for +reasons which will appear hereafter, that he does not in this +connection refer to Bentham, although he speaks enthusiastically<a name="FNanchor_107_107" id="FNanchor_107_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> +of Bentham's model prison, the Panopticon. Colquhoun shows how +strangely the severity of the law was combined with its extreme +capaciousness. He quotes Bacon<a name="FNanchor_108_108" id="FNanchor_108_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> for the statement that the law was +a 'heterogeneous mass concocted too often on the spur of the moment,' +and gives sufficient proofs of its truth. He desires, for example, a +law to punish receivers of stolen goods, and says that there were +excellent laws in existence. Unfortunately one law applied exclusively +to the case of pewter-pots, and another exclusively to the precious +metals; neither could be used as against receivers of horses or bank +notes.<a name="FNanchor_109_109" id="FNanchor_109_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> So a man indicted under an act against stealing from ships +on navigable rivers escaped, because the barge from which he stole +happened to be aground. Gangs could afford to corrupt witnesses or to +pay knavish lawyers skilled in applying these vagaries of legislation. +Juries also disliked convicting when the penalty for coining sixpence +was the same as the penalty for killing a mother. It followed, as he +shows by statistics, that half the persons committed for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> trial +escaped by petty chicanery or corruption, or the reluctance of juries +to convict for capital offences. Only about one-fifth of the capital +sentences were executed; and many were pardoned on condition of +enlisting to improve the morals of the army. The criminals, who were +neither hanged nor allowed to escape, were sent to prisons, which were +schools of vice. After the independence of the American colonies, the +system of transportation to Australia had begun (in 1787); but the +expense was enormous, and prisoners were huddled together in the hulks +at Woolwich and Portsmouth, which had been used as a temporary +expedient. Thence they were constantly discharged, to return to their +old practices. A man, says Colquhoun,<a name="FNanchor_110_110" id="FNanchor_110_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> would deserve a statue who +should carry out a plan for helping discharged prisoners. To meet +these evils, Colquhoun proposes various remedies, such as a +metropolitan police, a public prosecutor, or even a codification or +revision of the Criminal Code, which he sees is likely to be delayed. +He also suggested, in a pamphlet of 1799, a kind of charity +organisation society to prevent the waste of funds. Many other +pamphlets of similar tendencies show his active zeal in promoting +various reforms. Colquhoun was in close correspondence with Bentham +from the year 1798,<a name="FNanchor_111_111" id="FNanchor_111_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_111_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> and Bentham helped him by drawing the Thames +Police Act, passed in 1800, to give effect to some of the suggestions +in the <i>Treatise</i>.<a name="FNanchor_112_112" id="FNanchor_112_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_112_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a></p> + +<p>Another set of abuses has a special connection with Bentham's +activity. Bentham had been led in 1778 to attend to the prison +question by reading Howard's book on <i>Prisons</i>; and he refers to the +'venerable friend +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +who had lived an apostle and died a martyr.'<a name="FNanchor_113_113" id="FNanchor_113_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_113_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> +The career of John Howard (1726-1790) is familiar. The son of a London +tradesman, he had inherited an estate in Bedfordshire. There he +erected model cottages and village schools; and, on becoming sheriff +of the county in 1773, was led to attend to abuses in the prisons. Two +acts of parliament were passed in 1774 to remedy some of the evils +exposed, and he pursued the inquiry at home and abroad. His results +are given in his <i>State of the Prisons in England and Wales</i> (1779, +fourth edition, 1792), and his <i>Account of the Principal Lazarettos in +Europe</i> (1789). The prisoners, he says, had little food, sometimes a +penny loaf a day, and sometimes nothing; no water, no fresh air, no +sewers, and no bedding. The stench was appalling, and gaol fever +killed more than died on the gallows. Debtors and felons, men, women +and children, were huddled together; often with lunatics, who were +shown by the gaolers for money. 'Garnish' was extorted; the gaolers +kept drinking-taps; gambling flourished: and prisoners were often +cruelly ironed, and kept for long periods before trial. At Hull the +assizes had only been held once in seven years, and afterwards once in +three. It is a comfort to find that the whole number of prisoners in +England and Wales amounted, in 1780, to about 4400, 2078 of whom were +debtors, 798 felons, and 917 petty offenders. An act passed in 1779 +provided for the erection of two penitentiaries. Howard was to be a +supervisor. The failure to carry out this act led, as we shall see, to +one of Bentham's most characteristic undertakings. One peculiarity +must be noted. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +Howard found prisons on the continent where the +treatment was bad and torture still occasionally practised; but he +nowhere found things so bad as in England. In Holland the prisons were +so neat and clean as to make it difficult to believe that they were +prisons: and they were used as models for the legislation of 1779. One +cause of this unenviable distinction of English prisons had been +indicated by an earlier investigation. General Oglethorpe (1696-1785) +had been started in his philanthropic career by obtaining a committee +of the House of Commons in 1729 to inquire into the state of the +gaols. The foundation of the colony of Georgia as an outlet for the +population was one result of the inquiry. It led, in the first place, +however, to a trial of persons accused of atrocious cruelties at the +Fleet prison.<a name="FNanchor_114_114" id="FNanchor_114_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_114_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a> The trial was abortive. It appeared in the course +of the proceedings that the Fleet prison was a 'freehold,' A patent +for rebuilding it had been granted to Sir Jeremy Whichcot under +Charles <small>II.</small>, and had been sold to one Higgins, who resold it to other +persons for £5000. The proprietors made their investment pay by cruel +ill-treatment of the prisoners, oppressing the poor and letting off +parts of the prison to dealers in drink. This was the general plan in +the prisons examined by Howard, and helps to account for the gross +abuses. It is one more application of the general system. As the +patron was owner of a living, and the officer of his commission, the +keeper of a prison was owner of his establishment. The paralysis of +administration which prevailed throughout the country made it natural +to farm out paupers to the master of a workhouse, and prisoners to the +proprietor of a gaol. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +The state of prisoners may be inferred not only +from Howard's authentic record but from the fictions of Fielding, +Smollett and Goldsmith; and the last echoes of the same complaints may +be found in <i>Pickwick</i> and <i>Little Dorrit</i>. The Marshalsea described +in the last was also a proprietary concern. We shall hereafter see how +Bentham proposed to treat the evils revealed by Oglethorpe and Howard.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_96_96" id="Footnote_96_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> Aikin's <i>Country Round Manchester</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_97_97" id="Footnote_97_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> Bunce's <i>History of the Corporation of Birmingham</i> +(1878).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_98_98" id="Footnote_98_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> <i>History of Birmingham</i> (2nd edition), p. 327.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_99_99" id="Footnote_99_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> The first edition, 1795, the sixth, from which I quote, +in 1800. In Benthams <i>Works</i>, x. 330, it is said that in 1798, 7500 +copies of this book had been sold.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_100_100" id="Footnote_100_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> In 1814 Colquhoun published an elaborate account of the +<i>Resources of the British Empire</i>, showing similar qualities.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_101_101" id="Footnote_101_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> <i>Police</i>, p. 310.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_102_102" id="Footnote_102_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> <i>Police</i>, p. 105.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_103_103" id="Footnote_103_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 13.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_104_104" id="Footnote_104_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 211.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_105_105" id="Footnote_105_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 136.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_106_106" id="Footnote_106_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> <i>Police</i>, p. 60.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_107_107" id="Footnote_107_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 481.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_108_108" id="Footnote_108_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_109_109" id="Footnote_109_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> p. 298.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_110_110" id="Footnote_110_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> <i>Police</i>, p. 99.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_111_111" id="Footnote_111_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_111_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> Bentham's <i>Works</i>, x. 329 <i>seq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_112_112" id="Footnote_112_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_112_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 335.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_113_113" id="Footnote_113_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_113_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> Bentham's <i>Works</i>, iv. 3, 121.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_114_114" id="Footnote_114_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_114_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> Cobbett's <i>State Trials</i>, xvii. 297-626.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">III. <a name="III_III" id="III_III"></a>EDUCATION</p> + +<p>Another topic treated by Colquhoun marks the initial stage of +controversies which were soon to grow warm. Colquhoun boasts of the +number of charities for which London was already conspicuous. A +growing facility for forming associations of all kinds, political, +religious, scientific, and charitable, is an obvious characteristic of +modern progress. Where in earlier times a college or a hospital had to +be endowed by a founder and invested by charter with corporate +personality, it is now necessary only to call a meeting, form a +committee, and appeal for subscriptions. Societies of various kinds +had sprung up during the century. Artists, men of science, +agriculturists, and men of literary tastes, had founded innumerable +academies and 'philosophical institutes.' The great London hospitals, +dependent upon voluntary subscriptions, had been founded during the +first half of the century. Colquhoun counts the annual revenue of +various charitable institutions at £445,000, besides which the +endowments produced £150,000, and the poor-rates +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +£255,000.<a name="FNanchor_115_115" id="FNanchor_115_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_115_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> Among +these a considerable number were intended to promote education. Here, +as in some other cases, it seems that people at the end of the century +were often taking up an impulse given a century before. So the Society +for promoting Christian Knowledge, founded in 1699, and the Society +for the Propagation of the Gospel, founded in 1701, were supplemented +by the Church Missionary Society and the Religious Tract Society, both +founded in 1799. The societies for the reformation of manners, +prevalent at the end of the seventeenth century, were taken as a model +by Wilberforce and his friends at the end of the eighteenth.<a name="FNanchor_116_116" id="FNanchor_116_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_116_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a> In +the same way, the first attempts at providing a general education for +the poor had been made by Archbishop Tenison, who founded a parochial +school about 1680 in order 'to check the growth of popery.' Charity +schools became common during the early part of the eighteenth century +and received various endowments. They were attacked as tending to +teach the poor too much—a very needless alarm—and also by free +thinkers, such as Mandeville, as intended outworks of the established +church. This last objection was a foretaste of the bitter religious +controversies which were to accompany the growth of an educational +system. Colquhoun says that there were 62 endowed schools in London, +from +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +Christ's Hospital downwards, educating about 5000 children; 237 +parish schools with about 9000 children, and 3730 'private schools.' +The teaching was, of course, very imperfect, and in a report of a +committee of the House of Commons in 1818, it is calculated that about +half the children in a large district were entirely uneducated. There +was, of course, nothing in England deserving the name of a system in +educational more than in any other matters. The grammar schools +throughout the country provided more or less for the classes which +could not aspire to the public schools and universities. About a third +of the boys at Christ's Hospital were, as Coleridge tells us, sons of +clergymen.<a name="FNanchor_117_117" id="FNanchor_117_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_117_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a> The children of the poor were either not educated, or +picked up their letters at some charity school or such a country +dame's school as is described by Shenstone. A curious proof, however, +of rising interest in the question is given by the Sunday Schools +movement at the end of the century. Robert Raikes (1735-1811), a +printer in Gloucester and proprietor of a newspaper, joined with a +clergyman to set up a school in 1780 at a total cost of 1s. 6d. a +week. Within three or four years the plan was taken up everywhere, and +the worthy Raikes, whose newspaper had spread the news, found himself +revered as a great pioneer of philanthropy. Wesley took up the scheme +warmly; bishops condescended to approve; the king and queen were +interested, and within three or four years the number of learners was +reckoned at two or three hundred thousand. A Sunday School Association +was formed in 1785 with well known men of business at its head. Queen +Charlotte's friend, Mrs. Trimmer +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +(1741-1810), took up the work near +London, and Hannah More (1745-1833) in Somersetshire. Hannah More +gives a strange account of the utter absence of any civilising +agencies in the district around Cheddar where she and her sisters +laboured. She was accused of 'methodism' and a leaning to Jacobinism, +although her views were of the most moderate kind. She wished the poor +to be able to read their Bibles and to be qualified for domestic +duties, but not to write or to be enabled to read Tom Paine or be +encouraged to rise above their position. The literary light of the +Whigs, Dr. Parr (1747-1825), showed his liberality by arguing that the +poor ought to be taught, but admitted that the enterprise had its +limits. The 'Deity Himself had fixed a great gulph between them and +the poor.' A scanty instruction given on Sundays alone was not +calculated to facilitate the passage of that gulf. By the end of the +century, however, signs of a more systematic movement were showing +themselves. Bell and Lancaster, of whom I shall have to speak, were +rival claimants for the honour of initiating a new departure in +education. The controversy which afterwards raged between the +supporters of the two systems marked a complete revolution of opinion. +Meanwhile, although the need of schools was beginning to be felt, the +appliances for education in England were a striking instance of the +general inefficiency in every department which needed combined action. +In Scotland the system of parish schools was one obvious cause of the +success of so many of the Scotsmen which excited the jealousy of +southern competitors. Even in Ireland there appears to have been a +more efficient set of schools. And yet, one remark must be suggested. +There is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +probably no period in English history at which a greater +number of poor men have risen to distinction. The greatest beyond +comparison of self-taught poets was Burns (1759-1796). The political +writer who was at the time producing the most marked effect was Thomas +Paine (1737-1809), son of a small tradesman. His successor in +influence was William Cobbett (1762-1835), son of an agricultural +labourer, and one of the pithiest of all English writers. William +Gifford (1756-1826), son of a small tradesman in Devonshire, was +already known as a satirist and was to lead Conservatives as editor of +the <i>The Quarterly Review</i>. John Dalton (1766-1842), son of a poor +weaver, was one of the most distinguished men of science. Porson +(1759-1808), the greatest Greek scholar of his time, was son of a +Norfolk parish clerk, though sagacious patrons had sent him to Eton in +his fifteenth year. The Oxford professor of Arabic, Joseph White +(1746-1814), was son of a poor weaver in the country and a man of +reputation for learning, although now remembered only for a rather +disreputable literary squabble. Robert Owen and Joseph Lancaster, both +sprung from the ranks, were leaders in social movements. I have +already spoken of such men as Watt, Telford, and Rennie; and smaller +names might be added in literature, science, and art. The +individualist virtue of 'self-help' was not confined to successful +money-making or to the wealthier classes. One cause of the literary +excellence of Burns, Paine, and Cobbett may be that, when literature +was less centralised, a writer was less tempted to desert his natural +dialect. I mention the fact, however, merely to suggest that, whatever +were then the difficulties of getting such +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +schooling as is now +common, an energetic lad even in the most neglected regions might +force his way to the front.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_115_115" id="Footnote_115_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_115_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> <i>Police</i>, p. 340.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_116_116" id="Footnote_116_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_116_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> Wilberforce started on this plan a 'society for +enforcing the king's proclamation' in 1786, which was supplemented by +the society for 'the Suppression of Vice' in 1802. I don't suppose +that vice was much suppressed. Sydney Smith ridiculed its performances +in the <i>Edinburgh</i> for 1809. The article is in his works. A more +interesting society was that for 'bettering the condition of the +poor,' started by Sir Thomas Bernard and Wilberforce in 1796.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_117_117" id="Footnote_117_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_117_117"><span class="label">[117]</span></a> <i>Biographia Literaria</i> (1847), ii. 327.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">IV. <a name="III_IV" id="III_IV"></a>THE SLAVE-TRADE</p> + +<p>I have thus noticed the most conspicuous of the contemporary problems +which, as we shall see, provided the main tasks of Bentham and his +followers. One other topic must be mentioned as in more ways than one +characteristic of the spirit of the time. The parliamentary attack +upon the slave-trade began just before the outbreak of the revolution. +It is generally described as an almost sudden awakening of the +national conscience. That it appealed to that faculty is undeniable, +and, moreover, it is at least a remarkable instance of legislative +action upon purely moral grounds. It is true that in this case the +conscience was the less impeded because it was roused chiefly by the +sins of men's neighbours. The slave-trading class was a comparative +excrescence. Their trade could be attacked without such widespread +interference with the social order as was implied, for example, in +remedying the grievances of paupers or of children in factories. The +conflict with morality, again, was so plain as to need no +demonstration. It seems to be a questionable logic which assumes the +merit of a reformer to be in proportion to the flagrancy of the evil +assailed. The more obvious the case, surely the less the virtue needed +in the assailant. However this may be, no one can deny the moral +excellence of such men as Wilberforce and Clarkson, nor the real +change in the moral standard implied by the success of their +agitation. But another question remains, which is indicated by a later +controversy. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +The followers of Wilberforce and of Clarkson were +jealous of each other. Each party tried to claim the chief merit for +its hero. Each was, I think, unjust to the other. The underlying +motive was the desire to obtain credit for the 'Evangelicals' or their +rivals as the originators of a great movement. Without touching the +personal details it is necessary to say something of the general +sentiments implied. In his history of the agitation,<a name="FNanchor_118_118" id="FNanchor_118_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_118_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a> Clarkson +gives a quaint chart, showing how the impulse spread from various +centres till it converged upon a single area, and his facts are +significant.</p> + +<p>That a great change had taken place is undeniable. Protestant England +had bargained with Catholic Spain in the middle of the century for the +right of supplying slaves to America, while at the peace of 1814 +English statesmen were endeavouring to secure a combination of all +civilised powers against the trade. Smollett, in 1748, makes the +fortune of his hero, Roderick Random, by placing him as mate of a +slave-ship under the ideal sailor, Bowling. About the same time John +Newton (1725-1807), afterwards the venerated teacher of Cowper and the +Evangelicals, was in command of a slaver, and enjoying 'sweeter and +more frequent hours of divine communion' than he had elsewhere known. +He had no scruples, though he had the grace to pray 'to be fixed in a +more humane calling.' In later years he gave the benefit of his +experience to the abolitionists.<a name="FNanchor_119_119" id="FNanchor_119_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_119_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a> A new sentiment, however, was +already showing itself. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +Clarkson collects various instances. +Southern's Oroonoco, founded on a story by Mrs. Behn, and Steele's +story of Inkle and Yarico in an early <i>Spectator</i>, Pope's poor Indian +in the <i>Essay on Man</i>, and allusions by Thomson, Shenstone, and +Savage, show that poets and novelists could occasionally turn the +theme to account. Hutcheson, the moralist, incidentally condemns +slavery; and divines such as Bishops Hayter and Warburton took the +same view in sermons before the Society for the Propagation of +Christian Knowledge. Johnson, 'last of the Tories' though he was, had +a righteous hatred for the system.<a name="FNanchor_120_120" id="FNanchor_120_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_120_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a> He toasted the next +insurrection of negroes in the West Indies, and asked why we always +heard the 'loudest yelps for liberty among the drivers of negroes'? +Thomas Day (1748-1789), as an ardent follower of Rousseau, wrote the +<i>Dying Negro</i> in 1773, and, in the same spirit, denounced the +inconsistencies of slave-holding champions of American liberty.</p> + +<p>Such isolated utterances showed a spreading sentiment. The honour of +the first victory in the practical application must be given to +Granville Sharp<a name="FNanchor_121_121" id="FNanchor_121_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_121_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a> (1735-1813), one of the most charming and, in the +best sense, 'Quixotic' of men. In 1772 his exertions had led to the +famous decision by Lord Mansfield in the case of the negro +Somerset.<a name="FNanchor_122_122" id="FNanchor_122_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_122_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> Sharp in 1787 became chairman of the committee formed +to attack the slave-trade +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +by collecting the evidence of which +Wilberforce made use in parliament. The committee was chiefly composed +of Quakers; as indeed, Quakers are pretty sure to be found in every +philanthropic movement of the period. I must leave the explanation to +the historian of religious movements; but the fact is characteristic. +The Quakers had taken the lead in America. The Quaker was both +practical and a mystic. His principles put him outside of the ordinary +political interests, and of the military world. He directed his +activities to helping the poor, the prisoner, and the oppressed. Among +the Quakers of the eighteenth century were John Woolman (1720-1772), a +writer beloved by the congenial Charles Lamb and Antoine Benezet +(1713-1784), born in France, and son of a French refugee who settled +in Philadelphia. When Clarkson wrote the prize essay upon the +slave-trade (1785), which started his career, it was from Benezet's +writings that he obtained his information. By their influence the +Pennsylvanian Quakers were gradually led to pronounce against +slavery<a name="FNanchor_123_123" id="FNanchor_123_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_123_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a>; and the first anti-slavery society was founded in +Philadelphia in 1775, the year in which the skirmish at Lexington +began the war of independence. That suggests another influence. The +Rationalists of the eighteenth century were never tired of praising +the Quakers. The Quakers were, by their essential principles, in +favour of absolute toleration, and their attitude towards dogma was +not dissimilar. 'Rationalisation' and 'Spiritualisation' are in some +directions similar. The general spread of philanthropic sentiment, +which +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +found its formula in the <i>Rights of Man</i>, fell in with the +Quaker hatred of war and slavery. Voltaire heartily admires Barclay, +the Quaker apologist. It is, therefore, not surprising to find the +names of the deists, Franklin and Paine, associated with Quakers in +this movement. Franklin was an early president of the new association, +and Paine wrote an article to support the early agitation.<a name="FNanchor_124_124" id="FNanchor_124_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_124_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a> Paine +himself was a Quaker by birth, who had dropped his early creed while +retaining a respect for its adherents. When the agitation began it was +in fact generally approved by all except the slave-traders. Sound Whig +divines, Watson and Paley and Parr; Unitarians such as Priestley and +Gilbert Wakefield and William Smith; and the great methodist, John +Wesley, were united on this point. Fox and Burke and Pitt rivalled +each other in condemning the system. The actual delay was caused +partly by the strength of the commercial interests in parliament, and +partly by the growth of the anti-Jacobin sentiment.</p> + +<p>The attempt to monopolise the credit of the movement by any particular +sect is absurd. Wilberforce and his friends might fairly claim the +glory of having been worthy representatives of a new spirit of +philanthropy; but most certainly they did not create or originate it. +The general growth of that spirit throughout the century must be +explained, so far as 'explanation' is possible, by wider causes. It +was, as I must venture to assume, a product of complex social changes +which were bringing classes and nations into closer contact, binding +them +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +together by new ties, and breaking up the old institutions which +had been formed under obsolete conditions. The true moving forces were +the same whether these representatives announced the new gospel of the +'rights of man'; or appealed to the traditional rights of Englishmen; +or rallied supporters of the old order so far as it still provided the +most efficient machinery for the purpose. The revival of religion +under Wesley and the Evangelicals meant the direction of the stream +into one channel. The paralytic condition of the Church of England +disqualified it for appropriating the new energy. The men who directed +the movements were mainly stimulated by moral indignation at the gross +abuses, and the indolence of the established priesthood naturally gave +them an anti-sacerdotal turn. They simply accepted the old Protestant +tradition. They took no interest in the intellectual questions +involved. Rationalism, according to them, meant simply an attack upon +the traditional sanctions of morality; and it scarcely occurred to +them to ask for any philosophical foundation of their creed. +Wilberforce's book, <i>A Practical View</i>, attained an immense +popularity, and is characteristic of the position. Wilberforce turns +over the infidel to be confuted by Paley, whom he takes to be a +conclusive reasoner. For himself he is content to show what needed +little proof, that the so-called Christians of the day could act as if +they had never heard of the New Testament. The Evangelical movement +had in short no distinct relation to speculative movements. It took +the old tradition for granted, and it need not here be further +considered.</p> + +<p>One other remark is suggested by the agitation against the +slave-trade. It set a precedent for agitation of a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +kind afterwards +familiar. The committee appealed to the country, and got up petitions. +Sound Tories complained of them in the early slave-trade debates, as +attempts to dictate to parliament by democratic methods. Political +agitators had formed associations, and found a convenient instrument +in the 'county meetings,' which seems to have possessed a kind of +indefinite legal character.<a name="FNanchor_125_125" id="FNanchor_125_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_125_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a> Such associations of course depend +for the great part of their influence upon the press. The circulation +of literature was one great object. Paine's <i>Rights of Man</i> was +distributed by the revolutionary party, and Hannah More wrote popular +tracts to persuade the poor that they had no grievances. It is said +that two millions of her little tracts, 'Village Politics by Will +Chip,' the 'Shepherd of Salisbury Plain,' and so forth were +circulated. The demand, indeed, showed rather the eagerness of the +rich to get them read than the eagerness of the poor to read them. +They failed to destroy Paine's influence, but they were successful +enough to lead to the foundation of the Religious Tract Society. The +attempt to influence the poor by cheap literature shows that these +opinions were beginning to demand consideration. Cobbett and many +others were soon to use the new weapon. Meanwhile the newspapers +circulated among the higher ranks were passing through a new phase, +which must be noted. The great newspapers were gaining power. The +<i>Morning Chronicle</i> was started by Woodfall in 1769, the <i>Morning +Post</i> and <i>Morning Herald</i> by Dudley Bate in 1772 and 1780, and the +<i>Times</i> by Walter in 1788. The modern editor was to appear during the +war. Stoddart and Barnes of the <i>Times</i>, Perry and Black of the +<i>Morning Chronicle</i>, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +were to become important politically. The +revolutionary period marks the transition from the old-fashioned +newspaper, carried on by a publisher and an author, to the modern +newspaper, which represents a kind of separate organism, elaborately +'differentiated' and worked by a whole army of co-operating editors, +correspondents, reporters, and contributors. Finally, one remark may +be made. The literary class in England was not generally opposed to +the governing classes. The tone of Johnson's whole circle was +conservative. In fact, since Harley's time, government had felt the +need of support in the press, and politicians on both sides had their +regular organs. The opposition might at any time become the +government; and their supporters in the press, poor men who were only +too dependent, had no motive for going beyond the doctrines of their +principals. They might be bought by opponents, or they might be +faithful to a patron. They did not form a band of outcasts, whose hand +would be against every one. The libel law was severe enough, but there +had been no licensing system since the early days of William and Mary. +A man could publish what he chose at his own peril. When the current +of popular feeling was anti-revolutionary, government might obtain a +conviction, but even in the worst times there was a chance that juries +might be restive. Editors had at times to go to prison, but even then +the paper was not suppressed. Cobbett, for example, continued to +publish his <i>Registrar</i> during an imprisonment of two years (1810-12). +Editors had very serious anxieties, but they could express with +freedom any opinion which had the support of a party. English liberty +was so far a reality that a very free discussion of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +the political +problems of the day was permitted and practised. The English author, +therefore, as such, had not the bitterness of a French man of letters, +unless, indeed, he had the misfortune to be an uncompromising +revolutionist.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_118_118" id="Footnote_118_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_118_118"><span class="label">[118]</span></a> <i>History of the Rise, Progress, and Accomplishment of +the Abolition of the Slave-trade by the British Parliament</i> (1808). +Second enlarged edition 1839. The chart was one cause of the offence +taken by Wilberforce's sons.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_119_119" id="Footnote_119_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_119_119"><span class="label">[119]</span></a> Cf. Sir J. Stephen's <i>Ecclesiastical Biography</i> (The +Evangelical Succession).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_120_120" id="Footnote_120_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_120_120"><span class="label">[120]</span></a> See passages collected in Birkbeck Hill's <i>Boswell</i>, +ii. 478-80, and cf. iii. 200-204. Boswell was attracted by Clarkson, +but finally made up his mind that the abolition of the slave-trade +would 'shut the gates of mercy on mankind.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_121_121" id="Footnote_121_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_121_121"><span class="label">[121]</span></a> See the account of G. Sharp in Sir J. Stephen's +<i>Ecclesiastical Biography</i> (Clapham Sect).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_122_122" id="Footnote_122_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_122_122"><span class="label">[122]</span></a> Cobbett's <i>State Trials</i>, xx. 1-82.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_123_123" id="Footnote_123_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_123_123"><span class="label">[123]</span></a> The Society determined in 1760 'to disown' any Friend +concerned in the slave-trade.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_124_124" id="Footnote_124_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_124_124"><span class="label">[124]</span></a> Mr. Conway, in his <i>Life of Paine</i>, attributes, I +think, a little more to his hero than is consistent with due regard to +his predecessors; but, in any case, he took an early part in the +movement.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_125_125" id="Footnote_125_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_125_125"><span class="label">[125]</span></a> See upon this subject Mr. Jephson's interesting book on +<i>The Platform</i>.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">V. <a name="III_V" id="III_V"></a>THE FRENCH REVOLUTION</p> + +<p>The English society which I have endeavoured to characterise was now +to be thrown into the vortex of the revolutionary wars. The surpassing +dramatic interest of the French Revolution has tended to obscure our +perception of the continuity of even English history. It has been easy +to ascribe to the contagion of French example political movements +which were already beginning in England and which were modified rather +than materially altered by our share in the great European convulsion. +The impression made upon Englishmen by the French Revolution is, +however, in the highest degree characteristic. The most vehement +sympathies and antipathies were aroused, and showed at least what +principles were congenial to the various English parties. To praise or +blame the revolution, as if it could be called simply good or bad, is +for the historian as absurd as to praise or blame an earthquake. It +was simply inevitable under the conditions. We may, of course, take it +as an essential stage in a social evolution, which if described as +progress is therefore to be blessed, or if as degeneration may provoke +lamentation. We may, if we please, ask whether superior statesmanship +might have attained the good results without the violent catastrophes, +or whether a wise and good man who could appreciate the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +real position +would have approved or condemned the actual policy. But to answer such +problems with any confidence would imply a claim to a +quasi-omniscience. Partisans at the time, however, answered them +without hesitation, and saw in the Revolution the dawn of a new era of +reason and justice, or the outburst of the fires of hell. Their view +is at any rate indicative of their own position. The extreme opinions +need no exposition. They are represented by the controversy between +Burke and Paine. The general doctrine of the 'Rights of Men'—that all +men are by nature free and equal—covered at least the doctrine that +the inequality and despotism of the existing order was hateful, and +people with a taste for abstract principles accepted this short cut to +political wisdom. The 'minor' premise being obviously true, they took +the major for granted. To Burke, who idealised the traditional element +in the British Constitution, and so attached an excessive importance +to historical continuity, the new doctrine seemed to imply the +breaking up of the very foundations of order and the pulverisation of +society. Burke and Paine both assumed too easily that the dogmas which +they defended expressed the real and ultimate beliefs, and that the +belief was the cause, not the consequence, of the political condition. +Without touching upon the logic of either position, I may notice how +the problem presented itself to the average English politician whose +position implied acceptance of traditional compromises and who yet +prided himself on possessing the liberties which were now being +claimed by Frenchmen. The Whig could heartily sympathise with the +French Revolution so long as it appeared to be an attempt to +assimilate British principles. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +When Fox hailed the fall of the +Bastille as the greatest and best event that had ever happened, he was +expressing a generous enthusiasm shared by all the ardent and +enlightened youth of the time. The French, it seemed, were abolishing +an arbitrary despotism and adopting the principles of Magna Charta and +the 'Habeas Corpus' Act. Difficulties, however, already suggested +themselves to the true Whig. Would the French, as Young asked just +after the same event, 'copy the constitution of England, freed from +its faults, or attempt, from theory, to frame something absolutely +speculative'?<a name="FNanchor_126_126" id="FNanchor_126_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_126_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a> On that issue depended the future of the country. +It was soon decided in the sense opposed to Young's wishes. The reign +of terror alienated the average Whig. But though the argument from +atrocities is the popular one, the opposition was really more +fundamental. Burke put the case, savagely and coarsely enough, in his +'Letter to a noble Lord.' How would the duke of Bedford like to be +treated as the revolutionists were treating the nobility in France? +The duke might be a sincere lover of political liberty, but he +certainly would not be prepared to approve the confiscation of his +estates. The aristocratic Whigs, dependent for their whole property +and for every privilege which they prized upon ancient tradition and +prescription, could not really be in favour of sweeping away the whole +complex social structure, levelling Windsor Castle as Burke put it in +his famous metaphor, and making a 'Bedford level' of the whole +country. The Whigs had to disavow any approval of the Jacobins; +Mackintosh, who had given his answer to Burke's diatribes, met Burke +himself on friendly terms (9th July +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +1797), and in 1800 took an +opportunity of public recantation. He only expressed the natural +awakening of the genuine Whig to the aspects of the case which he had +hitherto ignored. The effect upon the middle-class Whigs is, however, +more to my purpose. It may be illustrated by the history of John Horne +Tooke<a name="FNanchor_127_127" id="FNanchor_127_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_127_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a> (1736-1812), who at this time represented what may be +called the home-bred British radicalism. He was the son of a London +tradesman, who had distinguished himself by establishing, and +afterwards declining to enforce, certain legal rights against +Frederick Prince of Wales. The prince recognised the tradesman's +generosity by making his antagonist purveyor to his household. A debt +of some thousand pounds was thus run up before the prince's death +which was never discharged. Possibly the son's hostility to the royal +family was edged by this circumstance. John Horne, forced to take +orders in order to hold a living, soon showed himself to have been +intended by nature for the law. He took up the cause of Wilkes in the +early part of the reign; defended him energetically in later years; +and in 1769 helped to start the 'Society for supporting the Bill of +Rights.' He then attacked Wilkes, who, as he maintained, misapplied +for his own private use the funds subscribed for public purposes to +this society; and set up a rival 'Constitutional Society.' In 1775, as +spokesman of this body, he denounced the 'king's troops' for +'inhumanly murdering' their fellow-subjects at Lexington for the sole +crime of 'preferring death to slavery.' He was imprisoned for the +libel, and thus became a martyr to the cause. When +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +the country +associations were formed in 1780 to protest against the abuses +revealed by the war, Horne became a member of the 'Society for +Constitutional Information,' of which Major Cartwright—afterwards the +revered, but rather tiresome, patriarch of the Radicals—was called +the 'father.' Horne Tooke (as he was now named), by these and other +exhibitions of boundless pugnacity, became a leader among the +middle-class Whigs, who found their main support among London +citizens, such as Beckford, Troutbeck and Oliver; supported them in +his later days; and after the American war, preferred Pitt, as an +advocate of parliamentary reform, to Fox, the favourite of the +aristocratic Whigs. He denounced the Fox coalition ministry, and in +later years opposed Fox at Westminster. The 'Society for +Constitutional Information' was still extant in the revolutionary +period, and Tooke, a bluff, jovial companion, who had by this time got +rid of his clerical character, often took the chair at the taverns +where they met to talk sound politics over their port. The revolution +infused new spirit into politics. In March 1791<a name="FNanchor_128_128" id="FNanchor_128_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_128_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a> Tooke's society +passed a vote of thanks to Paine for the first part of his <i>Rights of +Man</i>. Next year Thomas Hardy, a radical shoemaker, started a +'Corresponding Society.' Others sprang up throughout the country, +especially in the manufacturing towns.<a name="FNanchor_129_129" id="FNanchor_129_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_129_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> These societies took Paine +for their oracle, and circulated his writings as their manifesto. They +communicated +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +occasionally with Horne Tooke's society, which more or +less sympathised with them. The Whigs of the upper sphere started the +'Friends of the People' in April 1792, in order to direct the +discontent into safer channels. Grey, Sheridan and Erskine were +members; Fox sympathised but declined to join; Mackintosh was +secretary; and Sir Philip Francis drew up the opening address, citing +the authority of Pitt and Blackstone, and declaring that the society +wished 'not to change but to restore.'<a name="FNanchor_130_130" id="FNanchor_130_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_130_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a> It remonstrated cautiously +with the other societies, and only excited their distrust. Grey, as +its representative, made a motion for parliamentary reform which was +rejected (May 1793) by two hundred and eighty-two to forty-one. Later +motions in May 1797 and April 1800 showed that, for the present, +parliamentary reform was out of the question. Meanwhile the English +Jacobins got up a 'convention' which met at Edinburgh at the end of +1793. The very name was alarming: the leaders were tried and +transported; the cruelty of the sentences and the severity of the +judges, especially Braxfield, shocked such men as Parr and Jeffrey, +and unsuccessful appeals for mercy were made in parliament. The Habeas +Corpus Act was suspended in 1794: Horne Tooke and Hardy were both +arrested and tried for high treason in November. An English jury +fortunately showed itself less subservient than the Scottish; the +judge was scrupulously fair: and both Hardy and Horne Tooke were +acquitted. The societies, however, though they were encouraged for a +time, were attacked by severe measures passed by Pitt in 1795. The +'Friends of the People' ceased to exist The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +seizure of the committee +of the Corresponding Societies in 1798 put an end to their activity. A +report presented to parliament in 1799<a name="FNanchor_131_131" id="FNanchor_131_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_131_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a> declares that the +societies had gone to dangerous lengths: they had communicated with +the French revolutionists and with the 'United Irishmen' (founded +1791); and societies of 'United Englishmen' and 'United Scotsmen' had +had some concern in the mutinies of the fleet in 1797 and in the Irish +rebellion of 1798. Place says, probably with truth, that the danger +was much exaggerated: but in any case, an act for the suppression of +the Corresponding Societies was passed in 1799, and put an end to the +movement.</p> + +<p>This summary is significant of the state of opinion. The genuine +old-fashioned Whig dreaded revolution, and guarded himself carefully +against any appearance of complicity. Jacobinism, on the other hand, +was always an exotic. Such men as the leading Nonconformists Priestley +and Price were familiar with the speculative movement on the +continent, and sympathised with the enlightenment. Young men of +genius, like Wordsworth and Coleridge, imbibed the same doctrines more +or less thoroughly, and took Godwin for their English representative. +The same creed was accepted by the artisans in the growing towns, from +whom the Corresponding Societies drew their recruits. But the +revolutionary sentiment was not so widely spread as its adherents +hoped or its enemies feared. The Birmingham mob of 1791 acted, with a +certain unconscious humour, on the side of church and king. They had +perhaps an instinctive perception that it was an advantage to plunder +on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +the side of the constable. In fact, however, the general feeling +in all classes was anti-Jacobin. Place, an excellent witness, himself +a member of the Corresponding Societies, declares that the repressive +measures were generally popular even among the workmen.<a name="FNanchor_132_132" id="FNanchor_132_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_132_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a> They were +certainly not penetrated with revolutionary fervour. Had it been +otherwise, the repressive measures, severe as they were, would have +stimulated rather than suppressed the societies, and, instead of +silencing the revolutionists, have provoked a rising.</p> + +<p>At the early period the Jacobin and the home-bred Radical might +combine against government. A manifesto of the Corresponding Societies +begins by declaring that 'all men are by nature free and equal and +independent of each other,' and argues also that these are the +'original principles of English government.'<a name="FNanchor_133_133" id="FNanchor_133_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_133_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a> Magna Charta is an +early expression of the Declaration of Rights, and thus pure reason +confirms British tradition. The adoption of a common platform, +however, covered a profound difference of sentiment. Horne Tooke +represents the old type of reformer. He was fully resolved not to be +carried away by the enthusiasm of his allies. 'My companions in a +stage,' he said to Cartwright, 'may be going to Windsor: I will go +with them to Hounslow. But there I will get out: no further will I go, +by God!'<a name="FNanchor_134_134" id="FNanchor_134_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_134_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a> When Sheridan supported a vote of sympathy for the +French revolutionists, Tooke insisted upon adding a rider declaring +the content of Englishmen with their own constitution.<a name="FNanchor_135_135" id="FNanchor_135_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_135_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a> He +offended some of his allies by asserting that the 'main timbers' of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +the constitution were sound though the dry-rot had got into the +superstructure. He maintained, according to Godwin,<a name="FNanchor_136_136" id="FNanchor_136_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_136_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a> that the best +of all governments had been that of England under George <small>I.</small> Though +Cartwright said at the trial that Horne Tooke was taken to 'have no +religion whatever,' he was, according to Stephens, 'a great stickler +for the church of England': and stood up for the House of Lords as +well as the church on grounds of utility.<a name="FNanchor_137_137" id="FNanchor_137_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_137_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a> He always ridiculed +Paine and the doctrine of abstract rights,<a name="FNanchor_138_138" id="FNanchor_138_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_138_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a> and told Cartwright +that though all men had an equal right to a share of property, they +had not a right to an equal share. Horne Tooke's Radicalism (I use the +word by anticipation) was that of the sturdy tradesman. He opposed the +government because he hated war, taxation and sinecures. He argued +against universal suffrage with equal pertinacity. A comfortable old +gentleman, with a good cellar of Madeira, and proud of his wall-fruit +in a well-tilled garden, had no desire to see George <small>III</small>. at the +guillotine, and still less to see a mob supreme in Lombard Street or +banknotes superseded by assignats. He might be jealous of the great +nobles, but he dreaded mob-rule. He could denounce abuses, but he +could not desire anarchy. He is said to have retorted upon some one +who had boasted that English courts of justice were open to all +classes: 'So is the London tavern—to all who can pay.'<a name="FNanchor_139_139" id="FNanchor_139_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_139_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a> That is +in the spirit of Bentham; and yet Bentham complains that Horne Tooke's +disciple, Burdett, believed in the common law, and revered the +authority of Coke.<a name="FNanchor_140_140" id="FNanchor_140_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_140_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a> In +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +brief, the creed of Horne Tooke meant +'liberty' founded upon tradition. I shall presently notice the +consistency of this with what may be called his philosophy. Meanwhile +it was only natural that radicals of this variety should retire from +active politics, having sufficiently burnt their fingers by flirtation +with the more thoroughgoing party. How they came to life again will +appear hereafter. Horne Tooke himself took warning from his narrow +escape. He stayed quietly in his house at Wimbledon.<a name="FNanchor_141_141" id="FNanchor_141_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_141_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a> There he +divided his time between his books and his garden, and received his +friends to Sunday dinners. Bentham, Mackintosh, Coleridge, and Godwin +were among his visitors. Coleridge calls him a 'keen iron man,' and +reports that he made a butt of Godwin as he had done of Paine.<a name="FNanchor_142_142" id="FNanchor_142_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_142_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a> +Porson and Boswell encountered him in drinking matches and were both +left under the table.<a name="FNanchor_143_143" id="FNanchor_143_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_143_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a> The house was thus a small centre of +intellectual life, though the symposia were not altogether such as +became philosophers. Horne Tooke was a keen and shrewd disputant, well +able to impress weaker natures. His neighbour, Sir Francis Burdett, +became his political disciple, and in later years was accepted as the +radical leader. Tooke died at Wimbledon 18th March 1812.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_126_126" id="Footnote_126_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_126_126"><span class="label">[126]</span></a> <i>France</i>, p. 206 (20th July 1789).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_127_127" id="Footnote_127_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_127_127"><span class="label">[127]</span></a> See the <i>Life of Horne Tooke</i>, by Alexander Stephens (2 +vols. 8vo, 1813). John Horne added the name Tooke in 1782.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_128_128" id="Footnote_128_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_128_128"><span class="label">[128]</span></a> <i>Parl. Hist.</i> xxxi. 751.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_129_129" id="Footnote_129_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_129_129"><span class="label">[129]</span></a> The history of these societies may be found in the +trials reported in the twenty-third, twenty-fourth, and twenty-fifth +volumes of Cobbett's <i>State Trials</i>, and in the reports of the secret +committees in the thirty-first and thirty-fourth volumes of the <i>Parl. +History</i>. There are materials in Place's papers in the British Museum +which have been used in E. Smith's <i>English Jacobins</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_130_130" id="Footnote_130_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_130_130"><span class="label">[130]</span></a> <i>Parl. Hist.</i> xxix. 1300-1341.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_131_131" id="Footnote_131_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_131_131"><span class="label">[131]</span></a> <i>Parl. Hist.</i> xxxiv. 574-655.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_132_132" id="Footnote_132_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_132_132"><span class="label">[132]</span></a> Mr. Wallas's <i>Life of Place</i>, p. 25 <i>n</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_133_133" id="Footnote_133_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_133_133"><span class="label">[133]</span></a> <i>State Trials</i>, xxiv. 575.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_134_134" id="Footnote_134_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_134_134"><span class="label">[134]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xxv. 330.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_135_135" id="Footnote_135_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_135_135"><span class="label">[135]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xxv. 390.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_136_136" id="Footnote_136_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_136_136"><span class="label">[136]</span></a> Paul's <i>Godwin</i>, i. 147.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_137_137" id="Footnote_137_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_137_137"><span class="label">[137]</span></a> Stephens, ii. 48, 477.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_138_138" id="Footnote_138_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_138_138"><span class="label">[138]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 34-41, 323, 478-481.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_139_139" id="Footnote_139_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_139_139"><span class="label">[139]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 483.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_140_140" id="Footnote_140_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_140_140"><span class="label">[140]</span></a> Bentham's <i>Works</i>, x. 404.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_141_141" id="Footnote_141_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_141_141"><span class="label">[141]</span></a> He was member for Old Sarum 1801-2; but his career +ended by a declaratory act disqualifying for a seat men who had +received holy orders.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_142_142" id="Footnote_142_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_142_142"><span class="label">[142]</span></a> Bentham's <i>Works</i>, x. 404; <i>Life of Mackintosh</i>, i. 52; +Paul's <i>Godwin</i>, i. 71; Coleridge's <i>Table-Talk</i>, 8th May 1830 and +16th August 1833.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_143_143" id="Footnote_143_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_143_143"><span class="label">[143]</span></a> Stephens, ii. 316, 334, 438.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs"><a name="III_VI" id="III_VI"></a>VI. INDIVIDUALISM</p> + +<p>The general tendencies which I have so far tried to indicate will have +to be frequently noticed in the course of the following pages. One +point may be emphasised before proceeding: a main characteristic of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +the whole social and political order is what is now called its +'individualism.' That phrase is generally supposed to convey some +censure. It may connote, however, some of the most essential virtues +that a race can possess. Energy, self-reliance, and independence, a +strong conviction that a man's fate should depend upon his own +character and conduct, are qualities without which no nation can be +great. They are the conditions of its vital power. They were +manifested in a high degree by the Englishmen of the eighteenth +century. How far they were due to the inherited qualities of the race, +to the political or social history, or to external circumstances, I +need not ask. They were the qualities which had especially impressed +foreign observers. The fierce, proud, intractable Briton was elbowing +his way to a high place in the world, and showing a vigour not always +amiable, but destined to bring him successfully through tremendous +struggles. In the earlier part of the century, Voltaire and French +philosophers admired English freedom of thought and free speech, even +when it led to eccentricity and brutality of manners, and to barbarism +in matters of taste. Englishmen, conscious and proud of their +'liberty,' were the models of all who desired liberty for themselves. +Liberty, as they understood it, involved, among other things, an +assault upon the old restrictive system, which at every turn hampered +the rising industrial energy. This is the sense in which +'Individualism,' or the gospel according to Adam Smith—<i>laissez +faire</i>, and so forth—has been specially denounced in recent times. +Without asking at present how far such attacks are justifiable, I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +must be content to assume that the old restrictive system was in its +actual form mischievous, guided by entirely false theories, and the +great barrier to the development of industry. The same spirit appeared +in purely political questions. 'Liberty,' as is often remarked, may be +interpreted in two ways; not necessarily consistent with each other. +It means sometimes simply the diminution of the sphere of law and the +power of legislators, or, again, the transference to subjects of the +power of legislating, and, therefore, not less control, but control by +self-made laws alone. The Englishman, who was in presence of no +centralised administrative power, who regarded the Government rather +as receiving power from individuals than as delegating the power of a +central body, took liberty mainly in the sense of restricting law. +Government in general was a nuisance, though a necessity; and properly +employed only in mediating between conflicting interests, and +restraining the violence of individuals forced into contact by outward +circumstances. When he demanded that a greater share of influence +should be given to the people, he always took for granted that their +power would be used to diminish the activity of the sovereign power; +that there would be less government and therefore less jobbery, less +interference with free speech and free action, and smaller perquisites +to be bestowed in return for the necessary services. The people would +use their authority to tie the hands of the rulers, and limit them +strictly to their proper and narrow functions.</p> + +<p>The absence, again, of the idea of a state in any other sense implies +another tendency. The 'idea' was not required. Englishmen were +concerned rather with +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +details than with first principles. Satisfied, +in a general way, with their constitution, they did not want to be +bothered with theories. Abstract and absolute doctrines of right, when +imported from France, fell flat upon the average Englishman. He was +eager enough to discuss the utility of this or that part of the +machinery, but without inquiring into first principles of mechanism. +The argument from 'utility' deals with concrete facts, and presupposes +an acceptance of some common criterion of the useful. The constant +discussion of political matters in parliament and the press implied a +tacit acceptance on all hands of constitutional methods. Practical +men, asking whether this or that policy shall be adopted in view of +actual events, no more want to go back to right reason and 'laws of +nature' than a surveyor to investigate the nature of geometrical +demonstration. Very important questions were raised as to the rights +of the press, for example, or the system of representation. But +everybody agreed that the representative system and freedom of speech +were good things; and argued the immediate questions of fact. The +order, only established by experience and tradition, was accepted, +subject to criticism of detail, and men turned impatiently from +abstract argument, and left the inquiry into 'social contracts' to +philosophers, that is, to silly people in libraries. Politics were +properly a matter of business, to be discussed in a business-like +spirit. In this sense, 'individualism' is congenial to 'empiricism,' +because it starts from facts and particular interests, and resents the +intrusion of first principles.</p> + +<p>The characteristic individualism, again, suggests one other remark. +Individual energy and sense of responsibility +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +are good—as even +extreme socialists may admit—if they do not exclude a sense of duties +to others. It may be a question how far the stimulation of individual +enterprise and the vigorous spirit of industrial competition really +led to a disregard of the interests of the weaker. But it would be a +complete misunderstanding of the time if we inferred that it meant a +decline of humane feeling. Undoubtedly great evils had grown up, and +some continued to grow which were tolerated by the indifference, or +even stimulated by the selfish aims, of the dominant classes. But, in +the first place, many of the most active prophets of the individualist +spirit were acting, and acting sincerely, in the name of humanity. +They were attacking a system which they held, and to a great extent, I +believe, held rightly, to be especially injurious to the weakest +classes. Possibly they expected too much from the simple removal of +restrictions; but certainly they denounced the restrictions as unjust +to all, not simply as hindrances to the wealth of the rich. Adam +Smith's position is intelligible: it was, he thought, a proof of a +providential order that each man, by helping himself, unintentionally +helped his neighbours. The moral sense based upon sympathy was +therefore not opposed to, but justified, the economic principles that +each man should first attend to his own interest. The unintentional +co-operation would thus become conscious and compatible with the +established order. And, in the next place, so far from there being a +want of humane feeling, the most marked characteristic of the +eighteenth century was precisely the growth of humanity. In the next +generation, the eighteenth century came to be denounced as cold, +heartless, faithless, and so forth. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +The established mode of writing +history is partly responsible for this perversion. Men speak as though +some great man, who first called attention to an evil, was a +supernatural being who had suddenly dropped into the world from +another sphere. His condemnation of evil is therefore taken to be a +proof that the time must be evil. Any century is bad if we assume all +the good men to be exceptions. But the great man is really also the +product of his time. He is the mouthpiece of its prevailing +sentiments, and only the first to see clearly what many are beginning +to perceive obscurely. The emergence of the prophet is a proof of the +growing demand of his hearers for sound teaching. Because he is in +advance of men generally, he sees existing abuses more clearly, and we +take his evidence against his contemporaries as conclusive. But the +fact that they listened shows how widely the same sensibility to evil +was already diffused. In fact, as I think, the humane spirit of the +eighteenth century, due to the vast variety of causes which we call +social progress or evolution—not to the teaching of any +individual—was permeating the whole civilised world, and showed +itself in the philosophic movement as well as in the teaching of the +religious leaders, who took the philosophers to be their enemies. I +have briefly noticed the various philanthropic movements which were +characteristic of the period. Some of them may indicate the growth of +new evils; others, that evils which had once been regarded with +indifference were now attracting attention and exciting indignation. +But even the growth of new evils does not show general indifference so +much as the incapacity of the existing system to deal with new +conditions. It may, I think, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +be safely said that a growing +philanthropy was characteristic of the whole period, and in particular +animated the Utilitarian movement, as I shall have to show in detail. +Modern writers have often spoken of the Wesleyan propaganda and the +contemporary 'evangelical revival' as the most important movements of +the time. They are apt to speak, in conformity with the view just +described, as though Wesley or some of his contemporaries had +originated or created the better spirit. Without asking what was good +or bad in some aspects of these movements, I fully believe that Wesley +was essentially a moral reformer, and that he deserves corresponding +respect. But instead of holding that his contemporaries were bad +people, awakened by a stimulus from without, I hold that the movement, +so far as really indicating moral improvement, must be set down to the +credit of the century itself. It was one manifestation of a general +progress, of which Bentham was another outcome. Though Bentham might +have thought Wesley a fanatic or perhaps a hypocrite, and Wesley would +certainly have considered that Bentham's heart was much in need of a +change, they were really allies as much as antagonists, and both mark +a great and beneficial change. +</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>PHILOSOPHY</h3> + +<p class="scs">I. <a name="IV_I" id="IV_I"></a>JOHN HORNE TOOKE</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +I have so far dwelt upon the social and political environment of the +early Utilitarian movement; and have tried also to point out some of +the speculative tendencies fostered by the position. If it be asked +what philosophical doctrines were explicitly taught, the answer must +be a very short one. English philosophy barely existed. Parr was +supposed to know something about metaphysics—apparently because he +could write good Latin. But the inference was hasty. Of one book, +however, which had a real influence, I must say something, for though +it contained little definite philosophy, it showed what kind of +philosophy was congenial to the common sense of the time.</p> + +<p>The sturdy radical, Horne Tooke, had been led to the study of +philology by a characteristic incident. The legal question had arisen +whether the words, '<i>She, knowing that Crooke had been indicted for +forgery</i>,' did so and so, contained an averment that Crooke had been +indicted. Tooke argued in a letter to Dunning<a name="FNanchor_144_144" id="FNanchor_144_144"></a><a href="#Footnote_144_144" class="fnanchor">[144]</a> that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +they did; +because they were equivalent to the phrase, 'Crooke had been indicted +for forgery: she, <i>knowing that</i>,' did so and so. This raises the +question: What is the meaning of 'that'? Tooke took up the study, +thinking, as he says, that it would throw light upon some +philosophical questions. He learned some Anglo-Saxon and Gothic to +test his theory and, of course, confirmed it.<a name="FNanchor_145_145" id="FNanchor_145_145"></a><a href="#Footnote_145_145" class="fnanchor">[145]</a> The book shows +ingenuity, shrewdness, and industry, and Tooke deserves credit for +seeing the necessity of applying a really historical method to his +problem, though his results were necessarily crude in the +pre-scientific stage of philology.</p> + +<p>The book is mainly a long string of etymologies, which readers of +different tastes have found intolerably dull or an amusing collection +of curiosities. Tooke held, and surely with reason, that an +investigation of language, the great instrument of thought, may help +to throw light upon the process of thinking. He professes to be a +disciple of Locke in philosophy as in politics. Locke, he said,<a name="FNanchor_146_146" id="FNanchor_146_146"></a><a href="#Footnote_146_146" class="fnanchor">[146]</a> +made a lucky mistake in calling his book an essay upon human +understanding; for he thus attracted many who would have been repelled +had he called it what it really was, 'a treatise upon words and +language.' According to Tooke, in fact,<a name="FNanchor_147_147" id="FNanchor_147_147"></a><a href="#Footnote_147_147" class="fnanchor">[147]</a> what we call 'operations +of mind' are only 'operations of language.' The mind contemplates +nothing but 'impressions,' that is, 'sensations or feelings,' which +Locke called 'ideas,' Locke +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +mistook composition of terms for +composition of ideas. To compound ideas is impossible. We can only use +one term as a sign of many ideas. Locke, again, supposed that +affirming and denying were operations of the mind, whereas they are +only artifices of language.<a name="FNanchor_148_148" id="FNanchor_148_148"></a><a href="#Footnote_148_148" class="fnanchor">[148]</a></p> + +<p>The mind, then, can only contemplate, separately or together, +aggregates of 'ideas,' ultimate atoms, incapable of being parted or +dissolved. There are, therefore, only two classes of words, nouns and +verbs; all others, prepositions, conjunctions, and so forth, being +abbreviations, a kind of mental shorthand to save the trouble of +enumerating the separate items. Tooke, in short, is a thoroughgoing +nominalist. The realities, according to him, are sticks, stones, and +material objects, or the 'ideas' which 'represent' them. They can be +stuck together or taken apart, but all the words which express +relations, categories, and the like, are in themselves meaningless. +The special objects of his scorn are 'Hermes' Harris, and Monboddo, +who had tried to defend Aristotle against Locke. Monboddo had asserted +that 'every kind of relation' is a pure 'idea of the intellect' not to +be apprehended by sense.<a name="FNanchor_149_149" id="FNanchor_149_149"></a><a href="#Footnote_149_149" class="fnanchor">[149]</a> If so, according to Tooke, it would be a +nonentity.</p> + +<p>This doctrine gives a short cut to the abolition of metaphysics. The +word 'metaphysics,' says Tooke,<a name="FNanchor_150_150" id="FNanchor_150_150"></a><a href="#Footnote_150_150" class="fnanchor">[150]</a> is nonsense. All metaphysical +controversies are 'founded on the grossest ignorance of words and the +nature of speech.' The greatest part of his second volume is concerned +with etymologies intended to prove that an 'abstract idea' is a mere +word. Abstract words, he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +says,<a name="FNanchor_151_151" id="FNanchor_151_151"></a><a href="#Footnote_151_151" class="fnanchor">[151]</a> are generally 'participles +without a substantive and therefore in construction used as +substantives.' From a misunderstanding of this has arisen +'metaphysical jargon' and 'false morality.' In illustration he gives a +singular list of words, including 'fate, chance, heaven, hell, +providence, prudence, innocence, substance, fiend, angel, apostle, +spirit, true, false, desert, merit, faith, etc., all of which are mere +participles poetically embodied and substantiated by those who use +them.' A couple of specific applications, often quoted by later +writers, will sufficiently indicate his drift.</p> + +<p>Such words, he remarks,<a name="FNanchor_152_152" id="FNanchor_152_152"></a><a href="#Footnote_152_152" class="fnanchor">[152]</a> as 'right' and 'just' mean simply that +which is ordered or commanded. The chapter is headed 'rights of man,' +and Tooke's interlocutor naturally observes that this is a singular +result for a democrat. Man, it would seem, has no rights except the +rights created by the law. Tooke admits the inference to be correct, +but replies that the democrat in disobeying human law may be obeying +the law of God, and is obeying the law of God when he obeys the law of +nature. The interlocutor does not inquire what Tooke could mean by the +'law of nature.' We can guess what Tooke would have said to Paine in +the Wimbledon garden. In fact, however, Tooke is here, as elsewhere, +following Hobbes, though, it seems, unconsciously. Another famous +etymology is that of 'truth' from 'troweth.'<a name="FNanchor_153_153" id="FNanchor_153_153"></a><a href="#Footnote_153_153" class="fnanchor">[153]</a> Truth is what each +man thinks. There is no such thing, therefore, as 'eternal, immutable, +everlasting truth, unless mankind, <i>such as they are at present</i>, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> be +eternal, immutable, everlasting.' Two persons may contradict each +other and yet each may be speaking what is true for him. Truth may be +a vice as well as a virtue; for on many occasions it is wrong to speak +the truth.</p> + +<p>These phrases may possibly be interpreted in a sense less paradoxical +than the obvious one. Tooke's philosophy, if so it is to be called, +was never fully expounded. He burned his papers before his death, and +we do not know what he would have said about 'verbs,' which must have +led, one would suppose, to some further treatment of relations, nor +upon the subject, which as Stephens tells us, was most fully treated +in his continuation, the value of human testimony.</p> + +<p>If Tooke was not a philosopher he was a man of remarkably shrewd +cynical common sense, who thought philosophy idle foppery. His book +made a great success. Stephens tells us<a name="FNanchor_154_154" id="FNanchor_154_154"></a><a href="#Footnote_154_154" class="fnanchor">[154]</a> that it brought him £4000 +or £5000. Hazlitt in 1810 published a grammar professing to +incorporate for the first time Horne Tooke's 'discoveries.' The book +was admired by Mackintosh,<a name="FNanchor_155_155" id="FNanchor_155_155"></a><a href="#Footnote_155_155" class="fnanchor">[155]</a> who, of course, did not accept the +principles, and had a warm disciple in Charles Richardson (1775-1865), +who wrote in its defence against Dugald Stewart and accepted its +authority in his elaborate dictionary of the English language.<a name="FNanchor_156_156" id="FNanchor_156_156"></a><a href="#Footnote_156_156" class="fnanchor">[156]</a> +But its chief interest for us is that it was a great authority with +James Mill. Mill accepts the etymologies, and there is much in common +between the two writers, though Mill had learned his main +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> doctrines +elsewhere, especially from Hobbes. What the agreement really shows is +how the intellectual idiosyncrasy which is congenial to 'nominalism' +in philosophy was also congenial to Tooke's matter of fact radicalism +and to the Utilitarian position of Bentham and his followers.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_144_144" id="Footnote_144_144"></a><a href="#FNanchor_144_144"><span class="label">[144]</span></a> Published originally in 1778; reprinted in edition of +ΕΠΕΑ ΠΤΕΡΟΕΝΤΑ or <i>Diversions of Purley</i>, by Richard Taylor (1829), to +which I refer. The first part of the <i>Diversions of Purley</i> appeared +in 1786; and the second part (with a new edition of the first) in +1798.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_145_145" id="Footnote_145_145"></a><a href="#FNanchor_145_145"><span class="label">[145]</span></a> <i>Diversions of Purley</i> (1829), i. 12, 131.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_146_146" id="Footnote_146_146"></a><a href="#FNanchor_146_146"><span class="label">[146]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 362. Locke's work, says Prof. Max Müller in +his <i>Science of Thought</i>, p. 295, 'is, as Lange in his <i>History of +Materialism</i> rightly perceived, a critique of language which, together +with Kant's <i>Critique of the Pure Reason</i>, forms the starting-point of +modern philosophy.' <i>See</i> Lange's <i>Materialism</i>, (1873), i. 271.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_147_147" id="Footnote_147_147"></a><a href="#FNanchor_147_147"><span class="label">[147]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 49.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_148_148" id="Footnote_148_148"></a><a href="#FNanchor_148_148"><span class="label">[148]</span></a> <i>Diversions of Purley</i>, i. 36, 42.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_149_149" id="Footnote_149_149"></a><a href="#FNanchor_149_149"><span class="label">[149]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 373.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_150_150" id="Footnote_150_150"></a><a href="#FNanchor_150_150"><span class="label">[150]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 374.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_151_151" id="Footnote_151_151"></a><a href="#FNanchor_151_151"><span class="label">[151]</span></a> <i>Diversions of Purley</i>, ii. 18. Cf. Mill's statement in +<i>Analysis</i>, i. 304, that 'abstract terms are concrete terms with the +connotation dropped.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_152_152" id="Footnote_152_152"></a><a href="#FNanchor_152_152"><span class="label">[152]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 9, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_153_153" id="Footnote_153_153"></a><a href="#FNanchor_153_153"><span class="label">[153]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 399.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_154_154" id="Footnote_154_154"></a><a href="#FNanchor_154_154"><span class="label">[154]</span></a> Stephens, ii. 497.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_155_155" id="Footnote_155_155"></a><a href="#FNanchor_155_155"><span class="label">[155]</span></a> <i>Life of Mackintosh</i>, ii. 235-37.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_156_156" id="Footnote_156_156"></a><a href="#FNanchor_156_156"><span class="label">[156]</span></a> Begun for the <i>Encyclopædia Metropolitana</i> in 1818; and +published in 1835-37. Dugald Stewart's chief criticism is in his +Essays (<i>Works</i>, v. 149-188). John Fearn published his <i>Anti-Tooke</i> in +1820.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">II. <a name="IV_II" id="IV_II"></a>DUGALD STEWART</p> + +<p>If English philosophy was a blank, there was still a leader of high +reputation in Scotland. Dugald Stewart (1753-1828) had a considerable +influence upon the Utilitarians. He represented, on the one hand, the +doctrines which they thought themselves specially bound to attack, and +it may perhaps be held that in some ways he betrayed to them the key +of the position. Stewart<a name="FNanchor_157_157" id="FNanchor_157_157"></a><a href="#Footnote_157_157" class="fnanchor">[157]</a> was son of a professor of mathematics at +Edinburgh. He studied at Glasgow (1771-72) where he became Reid's +favourite pupil and devoted friend. In 1772 he became the assistant, +and in 1775 the colleague, of his father, and he appears to have had a +considerable knowledge of mathematics. In 1785 he succeeded Adam +Ferguson as professor of moral philosophy and lectured continuously +until 1810. He then gave up his active duties to Thomas Brown, +devoting himself to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +completion and publication of the substance +of his lectures. Upon Brown's death in 1820, he resigned a post to +which he was no longer equal. A paralytic stroke in 1822 weakened him, +though he was still able to write. He died in 1828.</p> + +<p>If Stewart now makes no great mark in histories of philosophy, his +personal influence was conspicuous. Cockburn describes him as of +delicate appearance, with a massive head, bushy eyebrows, gray +intelligent eyes, flexible mouth and expressive countenance. His voice +was sweet and his ear exquisite. Cockburn never heard a better reader, +and his manners, though rather formal, were graceful and dignified. +James Mill, after hearing Pitt and Fox, declared that Stewart was +their superior in eloquence. At Edinburgh, then at the height of its +intellectual activity, he held his own among the ablest men and +attracted the loyalty of the younger. Students came not only from +Scotland but from England, the United States, France and Germany.<a name="FNanchor_158_158" id="FNanchor_158_158"></a><a href="#Footnote_158_158" class="fnanchor">[158]</a> +Scott won the professor's approval by an essay on the 'Customs of the +Northern Nations.' Jeffrey, Horner, Cockburn and Mackintosh were among +his disciples. His lectures upon Political Economy were attended by +Sydney Smith, Jeffrey and Brougham, and one of his last hearers was +Lord Palmerston. Parr looked up to him as a great philosopher, and +contributed to his works an essay upon the etymology of the word +'sublime,' too vast to be printed whole. Stewart was an upholder of +Whig principles, when the Scottish government was in the hands of the +staunchest Tories. The irreverent young Edinburgh Reviewers treated +him with respect, and to some +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +extent applied his theory to politics. +Stewart was the philosophical heir of Reid; and, one may say, was a +Whig both in philosophy and in politics. He was a rationalist, but +within the limits fixed by respectability; and he dreaded the +revolution in politics, and believed in the surpassing merits of the +British Constitution as interpreted by the respectable Whigs.</p> + +<p>Stewart represents the 'common sense' doctrine. That name, as he +observes, lends itself to an equivocation. Common sense is generally +used as nearly synonymous with 'mother wit,' the average opinion of +fairly intelligent men; and he would prefer to speak of the +'fundamental laws of belief.'<a name="FNanchor_159_159" id="FNanchor_159_159"></a><a href="#Footnote_159_159" class="fnanchor">[159]</a> There can, however, be no doubt +that the doctrine derived much of its strength from the apparent +confirmation of the 'average opinion' by the 'fundamental laws.' On +one side, said Reid, are all the vulgar; on the other all the +philosophers. 'In this division, to my great humiliation, I find +myself classed with the vulgar.'<a name="FNanchor_160_160" id="FNanchor_160_160"></a><a href="#Footnote_160_160" class="fnanchor">[160]</a> Reid, in fact, had opposed the +theories of Hume and Berkeley because they led to a paradoxical +scepticism. If it be, as Reid held, a legitimate inference from +Berkeley that a man may as well run his head against a post, there can +be no doubt that it is shocking to common sense in every acceptation +of the word. The reasons, however, which Reid and Stewart alleged for +not performing that feat took a special form, which I am compelled to +notice briefly because they set up the mark for the whole intellectual +artillery of the Utilitarians. Reid, in fact, invented what J. S. Mill +called 'intuitions.' To confute intuitionists and get rid of +intuitions was one main purpose of all Mill's speculations. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +What, +then, is an 'intuition'? To explain that fully it would be necessary +to write once more that history of the philosophical movement from +Descartes to Hume, which has been summarised and elucidated by so many +writers that it should be as plain as the road from St. Paul's to +Temple Bar. I am forced to glance at the position taken by Reid and +Stewart because it has a most important bearing upon the whole +Utilitarian scheme. Reid's main service to philosophy was, in his own +opinion,<a name="FNanchor_161_161" id="FNanchor_161_161"></a><a href="#Footnote_161_161" class="fnanchor">[161]</a> that he refuted the 'ideal system' of Descartes and his +followers. That system, he says, carried in its womb the monster, +scepticism, which came to the birth in 1739,<a name="FNanchor_162_162" id="FNanchor_162_162"></a><a href="#Footnote_162_162" class="fnanchor">[162]</a> the date of Hume's +early <i>Treatise</i>. To confute Hume, therefore, which was Reid's primary +object, it was necessary to go back to Descartes, and to show where he +deviated from the right track. In other words, we must trace the +genealogy of 'ideas.' Descartes, as Reid admitted, had rendered +immense services to philosophy. He had exploded the scholastic system, +which had become a mere mass of logomachies and an incubus upon +scientific progress. He had again been the first to 'draw a distinct +line between the material and the intellectual world'<a name="FNanchor_163_163" id="FNanchor_163_163"></a><a href="#Footnote_163_163" class="fnanchor">[163]</a>; and Reid +apparently assumes that he had drawn it correctly. One characteristic +of the Cartesian school is obvious. Descartes, a great mathematician +at the period when mathematical investigations were showing their +enormous power, invented a mathematical universe. Mathematics +presented the true type of scientific reasoning and determined his +canons of inquiry. The 'essence' of matter, he said, was space. The +objective world, as we +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +have learned to call it, is simply space +solidified or incarnate geometry. Its properties therefore could be +given as a system of deductions from first principles, and it forms a +coherent and self-subsistent whole. Meanwhile the essence of the soul +is thought. Thought and matter are absolutely opposed. They are +contraries, having nothing in common. Reality, however, seems to +belong to the world of space. The brain, too, belongs to that world, +and motions in the brain must be determined as a part of the material +mechanism. In some way or other 'ideas' correspond to these motions; +though to define the way tried all the ingenuity of Descartes' +successors. In any case an idea is 'subjective': it is a thought, not +a thing. It is a shifting, ephemeral entity not to be fixed or +grasped. Yet, somehow or other, it exists, and it 'represents' +realities; though the divine power has to be called in to guarantee +the accuracy of the representation. The objective world, again, does +not reveal itself to us as simply made up of 'primary qualities'; we +know of it only as somehow endowed with 'secondary' or sense-given +qualities: as visible, tangible, audible, and so forth. These +qualities are plainly 'subjective'; they vary from man to man, and +from moment to moment: they cannot be measured or fixed; and must be +regarded as a product in some inexplicable way of the action of matter +upon mind; unreal or, at any rate, not independent entities.</p> + +<p>In Locke's philosophy, the 'ideas,' legitimate or illegitimate +descendants of the Cartesian theories, play a most prominent part. +Locke's admirable common sense made him the leader who embodied a +growing tendency. The empirical sciences were growing; and Locke, a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +student of medicine, could note the fallacies which arise from +neglecting observation and experiment, and attempting to penetrate to +the absolute essences and entities. Newton's great success was due to +neglecting impossible problems about the nature of force in +itself—'action at a distance' and so forth—and attention to the +sphere of visible phenomena. The excessive pretensions of the framers +of metaphysical systems had led to hopeless puzzles and merely verbal +solutions. Locke, therefore, insisted upon the necessity of +ascertaining the necessary limits of human knowledge. All our +knowledge of material facts is obviously dependent in some way upon +our sensations—however fleeting or unreal they may be. Therefore, the +material sciences must depend upon sense-given data or upon +observation and experiment. Hume gives the ultimate purpose, already +implied in Locke's essay, when he describes his first treatise (on the +title page) as an 'attempt to introduce the experimental mode of +reasoning into moral subjects.' Now, as Reid thinks, the effect of +this was to construct our whole knowledge out of the representative +ideas. The empirical factor is so emphasised that we lose all grasp of +the real world. Locke, indeed, though he insists upon the derivation +of our whole knowledge from 'ideas,' leaves reality to the 'primary +qualities' without clearly expounding their relation to the secondary. +But Berkeley, alarmed by the tendency of the Cartesian doctrines to +materialism and mechanical necessity, reduces the 'primary' to the +level of the 'secondary,' and proceeds to abolish the whole world of +matter. We are thus left with nothing but 'ideas,' and the ideas are +naturally 'subjective' and therefore in some sense unreal. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> Finally +Hume gets rid of the soul as well as the outside world; and then, by +his theory of 'causation,' shows that the ideas themselves are +independent atoms, cohering but not rationally connected, and capable +of being arbitrarily joined or separated in any way whatever. Thus the +ideas have ousted the facts. We cannot get beyond ideas, and yet ideas +are still purely subjective. The 'real' is separated from the +phenomenal, and truth divorced from fact. The sense-given world is the +whole world, and yet is a world of mere accidental conjunctions and +separation. That is Hume's scepticism, and yet according to Reid is +the legitimate development of Descartes' 'ideal system.' Reid, I take +it, was right in seeing that there was a great dilemma. What was +required to escape from it? According to Kant, nothing less than a +revision of Descartes' mode of demarcation between object and subject. +The 'primary qualities' do not correspond in this way to an objective +world radically opposed to the subjective. Space is not a form of +things, but a form imposed upon the data of experience by the mind +itself. This, as Kant says, supposes a revolution in philosophy +comparable to the revolution made by Copernicus in astronomy. We have +completely to invert our whole system of conceiving the world. +Whatever the value of Kant's doctrine, of which I need here say +nothing, it was undoubtedly more prolific than Reid's. Reid's was far +less thoroughgoing. He does not draw a new line between object and +subject, but simply endeavours to show that the dilemma was due to +certain assumptions about the nature of 'ideas.'</p> + +<p>The real had been altogether separated from the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +phenomenal, or truth +divorced from fact. You can only have demonstrations by getting into a +region beyond the sensible world; while within that world—that is, +the region of ordinary knowledge and conduct—you are doomed to +hopeless uncertainty. An escape, therefore, must be sought by some +thorough revision of the assumed relation, but not by falling back +upon the exploded philosophy of the schools. Reid and his successors +were quite as much alive as Locke to the danger of falling into mere +scholastic logomachy. They, too, will in some sense base all knowledge +upon experience. Reid constantly appeals to the authority of Bacon, +whom he regards as the true founder of inductive science. The great +success of Bacon's method in the physical sciences, encouraged the +hope, already expressed by Newton, that a similar result might be +achieved in 'moral philosophy.'<a name="FNanchor_164_164" id="FNanchor_164_164"></a><a href="#Footnote_164_164" class="fnanchor">[164]</a> Hume had done something to clear +the way, but Reid was, as Stewart thinks, the first to perceive +clearly and justly the 'analogy between these two different branches +of human knowledge.' The mind and matter are two co-ordinate things, +whose properties are to be investigated by similar methods. Philosophy +thus means essentially psychology. The two inquiries are two +'branches' of inductive science, and the problem is to discover by a +perfectly impartial examination what are the 'fundamental laws of +mind' revealed by an accurate analysis of the various processes of +thought. The main result of Reid's investigations is given most +pointedly in his early <i>Inquiry</i>, and was fully accepted by Stewart. +Briefly it comes to this. No one can doubt that we believe, as a fact, +in an external world. We believe +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +that there are sun and moon, stones, +sticks, and human bodies. This belief is accepted by the sceptic as +well as by the dogmatist, although the sceptic reduces it to a mere +blind custom or 'association of ideas.' Now Reid argues that the +belief, whatever its nature, is not and cannot be derived from the +sensations. We do not construct the visible and tangible world, for +example, simply out of impressions made upon the senses of sight and +touch. To prove this, he examines what are the actual data provided by +these senses, and shows, or tries to show, that we cannot from them +alone construct the world of space and geometry. Hence, if we consider +experience impartially and without preconception, we find that it +tells us something which is not given by the senses. The senses are +not the material of our perceptions, but simply give the occasions +upon which our belief is called into activity. The sensation is no +more like the reality in which we believe than the pain of a wound is +like the edge of the knife. Perception tells us directly and +immediately, without the intervention of ideas, that there is, as we +all believe, a real external world.</p> + +<p>Reid was a vigorous reasoner, and credit has been given to him by some +disciples of Kant's doctrine of time and space. Schopenhauer<a name="FNanchor_165_165" id="FNanchor_165_165"></a><a href="#Footnote_165_165" class="fnanchor">[165]</a> says +that Reid's 'excellent work' gives a complete 'negative proof of the +Kantian truths'; that is to say, that Reid proves satisfactorily that +we cannot construct the world out of the sense-given data alone. But, +whereas Kant regards the senses as supplying +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +the materials moulded by +the perceiving mind, Reid regards them as mere stimuli exciting +certain inevitable beliefs. As a result of Reid's method, then, we +have 'intuitions.' Reid's essential contention is that a fair +examination of experience will reveal certain fundamental beliefs, +which cannot be explained as mere manifestations of the sensations, +and which, by the very fact that they are inexplicable, must be +accepted as an 'inspiration.'<a name="FNanchor_166_166" id="FNanchor_166_166"></a><a href="#Footnote_166_166" class="fnanchor">[166]</a> Reid professes to discover these +beliefs by accurately describing facts. He finds them there as a +chemist finds an element. The 'intuition' is made by substituting for +'ideas' a mysterious and inexplicable connection between the mind and +matter.<a name="FNanchor_167_167" id="FNanchor_167_167"></a><a href="#Footnote_167_167" class="fnanchor">[167]</a> The chasm exists still, but it is somehow bridged by a +quasi-miracle. Admitting, therefore, that Reid shows a gap to exist in +the theory, his result remains 'negative.' The philosopher will say +that it is not enough to assert a principle dogmatically without +showing its place in a reasoned system of thought. The psychologist, +on the other hand, who takes Reid's own ground, may regard the +statement only as a useful challenge to further inquiry. The analysis +hitherto given may be insufficient, but where Reid has failed, other +inquirers may be more successful. As soon, in fact, as we apply the +psychological method, and regard the 'philosophy of mind' as an +'inductive science,' it is perilous, if not absolutely inconsistent, +to discover 'intuitions' which will take us beyond experience. The +line of defence against empiricism +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +can only be provisional and +temporary. In his main results, indeed, Reid had the advantage of +being on the side of 'common sense.' Everybody was already convinced +that there were sticks and stones, and everybody is prepared to hear +that their belief is approved by philosophy. But a difficulty arises +when a similar method is applied to a doctrine sincerely disputed. To +the statement, 'this is a necessary belief,' it is a sufficient answer +to reply, 'I don't believe it,' In that case, an intuition merely +amounts to a dogmatic assumption that I am infallible, and must be +supported by showing its connection with beliefs really universal and +admittedly necessary.</p> + +<p>Dugald Stewart followed Reid upon this main question, and with less +force and originality represents the same point of view. He accepts +Reid's view of the two co-ordinate departments of knowledge; the +science of which mind, and the science of which body, is the object. +Philosophy is not a 'theory of knowledge' or of the universe; but, as +it was then called, 'a philosophy of the human mind.' 'Philosophy' is +founded upon inductive psychology; and it only becomes philosophy in a +wider sense in so far as we discover that as a fact we have certain +fundamental beliefs, which are thus given by experience, though they +take us in a sense beyond experience. Jeffrey, reviewing Stewart's +life of Reid, in the <i>Edinburgh Review</i> of 1804, makes a significant +inference from this. Bacon's method, he said, had succeeded in the +physical sciences, because there we could apply experiment. But +experiment is impossible in the science of mind; and therefore +philosophy will never be anything but a plaything or a useful variety +of gymnastic. Stewart replied +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +at some length in his <i>Essays</i>,<a name="FNanchor_168_168" id="FNanchor_168_168"></a><a href="#Footnote_168_168" class="fnanchor">[168]</a> +fully accepting the general conception, but arguing that the +experimental method was applicable to the science of mind. Jeffrey +observes that it was now admitted that the 'profoundest reasonings' +had brought us back to the view of the vulgar, and this, too, is +admitted by Stewart so far as the cardinal doctrine of 'the common +sense' philosophy, the theory of perception, is admitted.</p> + +<p>From this, again, it follows that the 'notions we annex to the words +Matter and Mind are merely relative.'<a name="FNanchor_169_169" id="FNanchor_169_169"></a><a href="#Footnote_169_169" class="fnanchor">[169]</a> We know that mind exists as +we know that matter exists; or, if anything, we know the existence of +mind more certainly because more directly. The mind is suggested by +'the subjects of our consciousness'; the body by the objects 'of our +perception.' But, on the other hand, we are totally 'ignorant of the +essence of either.'<a name="FNanchor_170_170" id="FNanchor_170_170"></a><a href="#Footnote_170_170" class="fnanchor">[170]</a> We can discover the laws either of mental or +moral phenomena; but a law, as he explains, means in strictness +nothing but a 'general fact.'<a name="FNanchor_171_171" id="FNanchor_171_171"></a><a href="#Footnote_171_171" class="fnanchor">[171]</a> It is idle, therefore, to explain +the nature of the union between the two unknowable substances; we can +only discover that they are united and observe the laws according to +which one set of phenomena corresponds to the other. From a +misunderstanding of this arise all the fallacies of scholastic +ontology, 'the most idle and absurd speculation that ever employed the +human faculties.'<a name="FNanchor_172_172" id="FNanchor_172_172"></a><a href="#Footnote_172_172" class="fnanchor">[172]</a> The destruction of that pseudo-science was the +great glory of Bacon and Locke; and Reid has now discovered the method +by which we may advance to the establishment of a truly inductive +'philosophy of mind.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +It is not surprising that Stewart approximates in various directions +to the doctrines of the empirical school. He leans towards them +whenever he does not see the results to which he is tending. Thus, for +example, he is a thoroughgoing nominalist;<a name="FNanchor_173_173" id="FNanchor_173_173"></a><a href="#Footnote_173_173" class="fnanchor">[173]</a> and on this point he +deserts the teaching of Reid. He defends against Reid the attack made +by Berkeley and Hume upon 'abstract ideas.' Rosmini,<a name="FNanchor_174_174" id="FNanchor_174_174"></a><a href="#Footnote_174_174" class="fnanchor">[174]</a> in an +elaborate criticism, complains that Stewart did not perceive the +inevitable tendency of nominalism to materialism.<a name="FNanchor_175_175" id="FNanchor_175_175"></a><a href="#Footnote_175_175" class="fnanchor">[175]</a> Stewart, in +fact, accepts a good deal of Horne Tooke's doctrine,<a name="FNanchor_176_176" id="FNanchor_176_176"></a><a href="#Footnote_176_176" class="fnanchor">[176]</a> though +calling Tooke an 'ingenious grammarian, not a very profound +philosopher,' but holds, as we shall see, that the materialistic +tendency can be avoided. As becomes a nominalist, he attacks the +syllogism upon grounds more fully brought out by J. S. Mill. Upon +another essential point, he agrees with the pure empiricists. He +accepts Hume's view of causation in all questions of physical science. +In natural philosophy, he declares causation means only conjunction. +The senses can never give us the 'efficient' cause of any phenomenon. +In other words, we can never see a 'necessary connection' between any +two events. He collects passages from earlier writers to show how Hume +had been anticipated; and holds that Bacon's inadequate view of this +truth was a main defect in his theories.<a name="FNanchor_177_177" id="FNanchor_177_177"></a><a href="#Footnote_177_177" class="fnanchor">[177]</a> Hence we have a +characteristic conclusion. He says, when +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +discussing the proofs of the +existence of God,<a name="FNanchor_178_178" id="FNanchor_178_178"></a><a href="#Footnote_178_178" class="fnanchor">[178]</a> that we have an 'irresistible conviction of the +<i>necessity</i> of a cause' for every change. Hume, however, has shown +that this can never be a logical necessity. It must then, argues +Stewart, be either a 'prejudice' or an 'intuitive judgment.' Since it +is shown by 'universal consent' not to be a prejudice, it must be an +intuitive judgment. Thus Hume's facts are accepted; but his inference +denied. The actual causal nexus is inscrutable. The conviction that +there must be a connection between events attributed by Hume to +'custom' is attributed by Stewart to intuitive belief. Stewart infers +that Hume's doctrine is really favourable to theology. It implies that +God gives us the conviction, and perhaps, as Malebranche held, that +God is 'the constantly operating efficient Cause in the material +world.'<a name="FNanchor_179_179" id="FNanchor_179_179"></a><a href="#Footnote_179_179" class="fnanchor">[179]</a> Stewart's successor, Thomas Brown, took up this argument +on occasion of the once famous 'Leslie controversy'; and Brown's +teaching was endorsed by James Mill and by John Stuart Mill.</p> + +<p>According to J. S. Mill, James Mill and Stewart represented opposite +poles of philosophic thought. I shall have to consider this dictum +hereafter. On the points already noticed Stewart must be regarded as +an ally rather than an opponent of the Locke and Hume tradition. Like +them he appeals unhesitatingly to experience, and cannot find words +strong enough to express his contempt for 'ontological' and scholastic +methods. His 'intuitions' are so far very harmless things, which fall +in with common sense, and enable him to hold without further trouble +the beliefs which, as a matter of fact, are held by everybody. They +are an excuse for not seeking any +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +ultimate explanation in reason. He +is, indeed, opposed to the school which claimed to be the legitimate +successor to Locke, but which evaded Hume's scepticism by diverging +towards materialism. The great representative of this doctrine in +England had been Hartley, and in Stewart's day Hartley's lead had been +followed by Priestley, who attacked Reid from a materialist point of +view, by Priestley's successor, Thomas Belsham, and by Erasmus Darwin. +We find Stewart, in language which reminds us of later controversy, +denouncing the 'Darwinian School'<a name="FNanchor_180_180" id="FNanchor_180_180"></a><a href="#Footnote_180_180" class="fnanchor">[180]</a> for theories about instinct +incompatible with the doctrine of final causes. It might appear that a +philosopher who has re-established the objective existence of space in +opposition to Berkeley, was in danger of that materialism which had +been Berkeley's bugbear. But Stewart escapes the danger by his +assertion that our knowledge of matter is 'relative' or confined to +phenomena. Materialism is for him a variety of ontology, involving the +assumption that we know the essence of matter. To speak with Hartley +of 'vibrations,' animal spirits, and so forth, is to be led astray by +a false analogy. We can discover the laws of correspondence of mind +and body, but not the ultimate nature of either.<a name="FNanchor_181_181" id="FNanchor_181_181"></a><a href="#Footnote_181_181" class="fnanchor">[181]</a> Thus he regards +the 'physiological metaphysics of the present day' as an 'idle waste +of labour and ingenuity on questions to which the human mind is +altogether incompetent.'<a name="FNanchor_182_182" id="FNanchor_182_182"></a><a href="#Footnote_182_182" class="fnanchor">[182]</a> The principles found by inductive +observation are as independent of these speculations as Newton's +theory of gravitation of an ultimate mechanical cause of gravitation.</p> + +<p>Hartley's followers, however, could drop the 'vibration' +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +theory; and +their doctrine then became one of 'association of ideas.' To this +famous theory, which became the sheet-anchor of the empirical school, +Stewart is not altogether opposed. We find him speaking of +'indissoluble association' in language which reminds us of the +Mills.<a name="FNanchor_183_183" id="FNanchor_183_183"></a><a href="#Footnote_183_183" class="fnanchor">[183]</a> Hume had spoken of association as comparable to +gravitation—the sole principle by which our 'ideas' and 'impressions' +are combined into a whole; a theory, of course, corresponding to his +doctrine of 'belief' as a mere custom of associating. Stewart uses the +principle rather as Locke had done, as explaining fallacies due to +'casual associations.' It supposes, as he says, the previous existence +of certain principles, and cannot be an ultimate explanation. The only +question can be at what point we have reached an 'original principle,' +and are therefore bound to stop our analysis.<a name="FNanchor_184_184" id="FNanchor_184_184"></a><a href="#Footnote_184_184" class="fnanchor">[184]</a> Over this question +he glides rather too lightly, as is his custom; but from his point of +view the belief, for example, in an external world, cannot be +explained by association, inasmuch as it reveals itself as an ultimate +datum.</p> + +<p>In regard to the physical sciences, then, Stewart's position +approximates very closely to the purely 'empirical' view. When we come +to a different application of his principles, we find him taking a +curiously balanced position between different schools. 'Common sense' +naturally wishes to adapt itself to generally accepted beliefs; and +with so flexible a doctrine as that of 'intuitions' it is not +difficult to discover methods of proving the ordinary dogmas. +Stewart's theology is characteristic of this tendency. He describes +the so-called <i>a priori</i> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +proof, as formulated by Clarke. But without +denying its force, he does not like to lay stress upon it. He dreads +'ontology' too much. He therefore considers that the argument at once +most satisfactory to the philosopher and most convincing to ordinary +men is the argument from design. The belief in God is not 'intuitive,' +but follows immediately from two first principles: the principle that +whatever exists has a cause, and the principle that a 'combination of +means implies a designer.'<a name="FNanchor_185_185" id="FNanchor_185_185"></a><a href="#Footnote_185_185" class="fnanchor">[185]</a> The belief in a cause arises on our +perception of change as our belief in the external world arises upon +our sensations. The belief in design must be a 'first principle' +because it includes a belief in 'necessity' which cannot arise from +mere observation of 'contingent truths.'<a name="FNanchor_186_186" id="FNanchor_186_186"></a><a href="#Footnote_186_186" class="fnanchor">[186]</a> Hence Stewart accepts +the theory of final causes as stated by Paley. Though Paley's ethics +offended him, he has nothing but praise for the work upon <i>Natural +Theology</i>.<a name="FNanchor_187_187" id="FNanchor_187_187"></a><a href="#Footnote_187_187" class="fnanchor">[187]</a> Thus, although 'common sense' does not enable us to +lay down the central doctrine of theology as a primary truth, it does +enable us to interpret experience in theological terms. In other +words, his theology is of the purely empirical kind, which was, as we +shall see, the general characteristic of the time.</p> + +<p>In Stewart's discussion of ethical problems the same doctrine of +'final causes' assumes a special importance. Stewart, as elsewhere, +tries to hold an intermediate position; to maintain the independence +of morality without committing himself to the 'ontological' or purely +logical view; and to show that virtue conduces to happiness without +allowing that its dictates are to be deduced from +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +its tendency to +produce happiness. His doctrine is to a great extent derived from the +teaching of Hutcheson and Bishop Butler. He really approximates most +closely to Hutcheson, who takes a similar view of Utilitarianism, but +he professes the warmest admiration of Butler. He explicitly accepts +Butler's doctrine of the 'supremacy of the conscience'—a doctrine +which as he says, the bishop, 'has placed in the strongest and +happiest light.'<a name="FNanchor_188_188" id="FNanchor_188_188"></a><a href="#Footnote_188_188" class="fnanchor">[188]</a> He endeavours, again, to approximate to the +'intellectual school,' of which Richard Price (1723-1791) was the +chief English representative at the time. Like Kant, Price deduces the +moral law from principles of pure reason. The truth of the moral law, +'Thou shalt do to others as you wish that they should do to you,' is +as evident as the truth of the law in geometry, 'things which are +equal to the same thing are equal to each other.' Stewart so far +approves that he wishes to give to the moral law what is now called +all possible 'objectivity,' while the 'moral sense' of Hutcheson +apparently introduced a 'subjective' element. He holds, however, that +our moral perceptions 'involve a feeling of the heart,' as well as a +'judgment of the understanding,'<a name="FNanchor_189_189" id="FNanchor_189_189"></a><a href="#Footnote_189_189" class="fnanchor">[189]</a> and ascribes the same view to +Butler. But then, by using the word 'reason' so as to include the +whole nature of a rational being, we may ascribe to it the 'origin of +those simple ideas which are not excited in the mind by the operation +of the senses, but which arise in consequence of the operation of the +intellectual powers among the various objects.'<a name="FNanchor_190_190" id="FNanchor_190_190"></a><a href="#Footnote_190_190" class="fnanchor">[190]</a> Hutcheson, he +says, made his 'moral sense' unsatisfactory by taking his +illustrations from the 'secondary' instead of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +'primary +qualities,'<a name="FNanchor_191_191" id="FNanchor_191_191"></a><a href="#Footnote_191_191" class="fnanchor">[191]</a> and thus with the help of intuitive first principles, +Stewart succeeds in believing that it would be as hard for a man to +believe that he ought to sacrifice another man's happiness to his own +as to believe that three angles of a triangle are equal to one right +angle.<a name="FNanchor_192_192" id="FNanchor_192_192"></a><a href="#Footnote_192_192" class="fnanchor">[192]</a> It is true that a feeling and a judgment are both +involved; but the 'intellectual judgment' is the groundwork of the +feeling, not the feeling of the judgment.<a name="FNanchor_193_193" id="FNanchor_193_193"></a><a href="#Footnote_193_193" class="fnanchor">[193]</a> In spite, however, of +this attempt to assimilate his principles to those of the intellectual +school, the substance of Stewart's ethics is essentially +psychological. It rests, in fact, upon his view that philosophy +depends upon inductive psychology, and, therefore, essentially upon +experience subject to the cropping up of convenient 'intuitions.'</p> + +<p>This appears from the nature of his argument against the Utilitarians. +In his time, this doctrine was associated with the names of Hartley, +Tucker, Godwin, and especially Paley. He scarcely refers to +Bentham.<a name="FNanchor_194_194" id="FNanchor_194_194"></a><a href="#Footnote_194_194" class="fnanchor">[194]</a> Paley is the recognised anvil for the opposite school. +Now he agrees, as I have said, with Paley's view of natural theology +and entirely accepts therefore the theory of 'final causes.' The same +theory becomes prominent in his ethical teaching. We may perhaps say +that Stewart's view is in substance an inverted Utilitarianism. It may +be best illustrated by an argument familiar in another application. +Paley and his opponents might agree that the various instincts of an +animal are so constituted that in point of fact they contribute to +his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +preservation and his happiness. But from one point of view this +appears to be simply to say that the conditions of existence +necessitate a certain harmony, and that the harmony is therefore to be +a consequence of his self-preservation. From the opposite point of +view, which Stewart accepts, it appears that the self-preservation is +the consequence of a pre-established harmony, which has been divinely +appointed in order that he may live. Stewart, in short, is a +'teleologist' of the Paley variety. Psychology proves the existence of +design in the moral world, as anatomy or physiology proves it in the +physical.</p> + +<p>Stewart therefore fully agrees that virtue generally produces +happiness. If it be true (a doctrine, he thinks, beyond our competence +to decide) that 'the sole principle of action in the Deity' is +benevolence, it may be that he has commanded us to be virtuous because +he sees virtue to be useful. In this case utility may be the final +cause of morality; and the fact that virtue has this tendency gives +the plausibility to utilitarian systems.<a name="FNanchor_195_195" id="FNanchor_195_195"></a><a href="#Footnote_195_195" class="fnanchor">[195]</a> But the key to the +difficulty is the distinction between 'final' and 'efficient' causes; +for the efficient cause of morality is not the desire for happiness, +but a primitive and simple instinct, namely, the moral faculty.</p> + +<p>Thus he rejects Paley's notorious doctrine that virtue differs from +prudence only in regarding the consequences in another world instead +of consequences in this.<a name="FNanchor_196_196" id="FNanchor_196_196"></a><a href="#Footnote_196_196" class="fnanchor">[196]</a> Reward and punishment 'presuppose the +notions of right and wrong' and cannot be the source of those notions. +The favourite doctrine of association, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +by which the Utilitarians +explained unselfishness, is only admissible as accounting for +modifications, such as are due to education and example, but +'presupposes the existence of certain principles which are common to +all mankind.' The evidence of such principles is established by a long +and discursive psychological discussion. It is enough to say that he +admits two rational principles, 'self-love' and the 'moral faculty,' +the coincidence of which is learned only by experience. The moral +faculty reveals simple 'ideas' of right and wrong, which are incapable +of any further analysis. But besides these, there is a hierarchy of +other instincts or desires, which he calls 'implanted' because 'for +aught we know' they may be of 'arbitrary appointment.'<a name="FNanchor_197_197" id="FNanchor_197_197"></a><a href="#Footnote_197_197" class="fnanchor">[197]</a> +Resentment, for example, is an implanted instinct, of which the 'final +cause' is to defend us against 'sudden violence.'<a name="FNanchor_198_198" id="FNanchor_198_198"></a><a href="#Footnote_198_198" class="fnanchor">[198]</a> Stewart's +analysis is easygoing and suggests more problems than it solves. The +general position, however, is clear enough, and not, I think, without +much real force as against the Paley form of utilitarianism.</p> + +<p>The acceptance of the doctrine of 'final causes' was the inevitable +course for a philosopher who wishes to retain the old creeds and yet +to appeal unequivocally to experience. It suits the amiable optimism +for which Stewart is noticeable. To prove the existence of a perfect +deity from the evidence afforded by the world, you must of course take +a favourable view of the observable order. Stewart shows the same +tendency in his Political Economy, where he is Adam Smith's disciple, +and fully shares Smith's beliefs that the harmony between +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> the +interests of the individual and the interests of the society is an +evidence of design in the Creator of mankind. In this respect Stewart +differs notably from Butler, to whose reasonings he otherwise owed a +good deal. With Butler the conscience implies a dread of divine wrath +and justifies the conception of a world alienated from its maker. +Stewart's 'moral faculty' simply recognises or reveals the moral law; +but carries no suggestion of supernatural penalties. The doctrines by +which Butler attracted some readers and revolted others throw no +shadow over his writings. He is a placid enlightened professor, whose +real good feeling and frequent shrewdness should not be overlooked in +consequence of the rather desultory and often superficial mode of +reasoning. This, however, suggests a final remark upon Stewart's +position.</p> + +<p>In the preface<a name="FNanchor_199_199" id="FNanchor_199_199"></a><a href="#Footnote_199_199" class="fnanchor">[199]</a> to his <i>Active and Moral Powers</i> (1828) Stewart +apologises for the large space given to the treatment of Natural +Religion. The lectures, he says, which form the substance of the book, +were given at a time when 'enlightened zeal for liberty' was +associated with the 'reckless boldness of the uncompromising +freethinker.' He wished, therefore, to show that a man could be a +liberal without being an atheist. This gives the position +characteristic of Stewart and his friends. The group of eminent men +who made Edinburgh a philosophical centre was thoroughly in sympathy +with the rationalist movement of the eighteenth century. The old +dogmatic system of belief could be held very lightly even by the more +educated clergy. Hume's position is significant. He could lay down the +most +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +unqualified scepticism in his writings; but he always regarded +his theories as intended for the enlightened; he had no wish to +disturb popular beliefs in theology, and was a strong Tory in +politics. His friends were quite ready to take him upon that footing. +The politeness with which 'Mr. Hume's' speculations are noticed by men +like Stewart and Reid is in characteristic contrast to the reception +generally accorded to more popular sceptics. They were intellectual +curiosities not meant for immediate application. The real opinion of +such men as Adam Smith and Stewart was probably a rather vague and +optimistic theism. In the professor's chair they could talk to lads +intended for the ministry without insulting such old Scottish +prejudice (there was a good deal of it) as survived: and could cover +rationalising opinions under language which perhaps might have a +different meaning for their hearers. The position was necessarily one +of tacit compromise. Stewart considers himself to be an inductive +philosopher appealing frankly to experience and reason; and was in +practice a man of thoroughly liberal and generous feelings. He was +heartily in favour of progress as he understood it. Only he will not +sacrifice common sense; that is to say, the beliefs which are in fact +prevalent and congenial to existing institutions. Common sense, of +course, condemns extremes: and if logic seems to be pushing a man +towards scepticism in philosophy or revolution in practice, he can +always protest by the convenient device of intuitions.</p> + +<p>I have gone so far in order to illustrate the nature of the system +which the Utilitarians took to be the antithesis of their own. It may +be finally remarked that at present +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +both sides were equally ignorant +of contemporary developments of German thought. When Stewart became +aware that there was such a thing as Kant's philosophy, he tried to +read it in a Latin version. Parr, I may observe, apparently did not +know of this version, and gave up the task of reading German. +Stewart's example was not encouraging. He had abandoned the +'undertaking in despair' partly from the scholastic barbarism of the +style, partly 'my utter inability to comprehend the author's meaning.' +He recognises similarity between Kant and Reid, but thinks Reid's +simple statement of the fact that space cannot be derived from the +senses more philosophical than Kant's 'superstructure of technical +mystery.'<a name="FNanchor_200_200" id="FNanchor_200_200"></a><a href="#Footnote_200_200" class="fnanchor">[200]</a></p> + +<p>I have dwelt upon the side in which Stewart's philosophy approximates +to the empirical school, because the Utilitarians were apt to +misconceive the position. They took Stewart to be the adequate +representative of all who accepted one branch of an inevitable +dilemma. The acceptance of 'intuitions,' that is, was the only +alternative to thoroughgoing acceptance of 'experience.' They +supposed, too, that persons vaguely described as 'Kant and the +Germans' taught simply a modification of the 'intuitionist' view. I +have noticed how emphatically Stewart claimed to rely upon experience +and to base his philosophy upon inductive psychology, and was so far +admitting the first principles and the general methods of his +opponents. The Scottish philosophy, however, naturally presented +itself as an antagonistic force to the Utilitarians. The 'intuitions' +represented +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +the ultimate ground taken, especially in religious and +ethical questions, by men who wished to be at once liberal +philosophers and yet to avoid revolutionary extremes. 'Intuitions' had +in any case a negative value, as protests against the sufficiency of +the empirical analysis. It might be quite true, for example, that +Hume's analysis of certain primary mental phenomena—of our belief in +the external world or of the relation of cause and effect—was +radically insufficient. He had not given an adequate explanation of +the facts. The recognition of the insufficiency of his reasoning was +highly important if only as a stimulus to inquiry. It was a warning to +his and to Hartley's followers that they had not thoroughly unravelled +the perplexity but only cut the knot. But when the insufficiency of +the explanation was interpreted as a demonstration that all +explanation was impossible, and the 'intuition' an ultimate +'self-evident' truth, it became a refusal to inquire just where +inquiry was wanted; a positive command to stop analysis at an +arbitrary point; and a round assertion that the adversary could not +help believing precisely the doctrine which he altogether declined to +believe. Naturally the empiricists refused to bow to an authority +which was simply saying, 'Don't inquire further,' without any ground +for the prohibition except the '<i>ipse dixitism</i>' which declared that +inquiry must be fruitless. Stewart, in fact, really illustrated the +equivocation between the two meanings of 'common sense.' If by that +name he understood, as he professed to understand, ultimate 'laws of +thought,' his position was justifiable as soon as he could specify the +laws and prove that they were ultimate. But so far as he virtually +took for granted that the average beliefs of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +intelligent people were +such laws, and on that ground refused to examine the evidence of their +validity, he was inconsistent, and his position only invited assault. +As a fact, I believe that his 'intuitions' covered many most +disputable propositions; and that the more clearly they were stated, +the more they failed to justify his interpretations. He was not really +answering the most vital and critical questions, but implicitly +reserving them, and putting an arbitrary stop to investigations +desirable on his own principles.</p> + +<p>The Scottish philosophy was, however, accepted in England, and made a +considerable impression in France, as affording a tenable barrier +against scepticism. It was, as I have said, in philosophy what +Whiggism was in politics. Like political Whiggism it included a large +element of enlightened and liberal rationalism; but like Whiggism it +covered an aversion to thoroughgoing logic. The English politician was +suspicious of abstract principles, but could cover his acceptance of +tradition and rule of thumb by general phrases about liberty and +toleration. The Whig in philosophy equally accepted the traditional +creed, sufficiently purified from cruder elements, and sheltered his +doctrine by speaking of 'intuitions and laws of thought.' In both +positions there was really, I take it, a great deal of sound practical +wisdom; but they also implied a marked reluctance to push inquiry too +far, and a tacit agreement to be content with what the Utilitarians +denounced as 'vague generalities'—phrases, that is, which might be +used either to conceal an underlying scepticism, or really to stop +short in the path which led to scepticism. In philosophy as in +politics, the Utilitarians boasted of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +being thoroughgoing Radicals, +and hated compromises which to them appeared to be simply obstructive. +I need not elaborate a point which will meet us again. If I were +writing a history of thought in general I should have to notice other +writers, though there were none of much distinction, who followed the +teaching of Stewart or of his opponents of the Hartley and Darwin +school. It would be necessary also to insist upon the growing interest +in the physical sciences, which were beginning not only to make +enormous advances, but to attract popular attention. For my purpose, +however, it is I think sufficient to mention these writers, each of +whom had a very special relation to the Utilitarians. I turn, +therefore, to Bentham.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_157_157" id="Footnote_157_157"></a><a href="#FNanchor_157_157"><span class="label">[157]</span></a> Nine volumes of Dugald Stewart's works, edited by Sir +W. Hamilton, appeared from 1854 to 1856; a tenth, including a life of +Stewart by J. Veitch, appeared in 1858, and an eleventh, with an index +to the whole, in 1860. The chief books are the <i>Elements of the +Philosophy of the Human Mind</i> (in vols. ii., iii. and iv., originally +in 1792, 1814, 1827); <i>Philosophical Essays</i> (in vol. v., originally +1810); <i>Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers of Man</i> (vols. vi. +and vii., originally in 1828); <i>Dissertation on the Progress of +Philosophy</i> (in vol. i.; originally in <i>Encyclopædia Britannica</i>, in +1815 and 1821). The lectures on Political Economy first appeared in +the <i>Works</i>, vols. viii. and ix.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_158_158" id="Footnote_158_158"></a><a href="#FNanchor_158_158"><span class="label">[158]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vi. ('Preface')</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_159_159" id="Footnote_159_159"></a><a href="#FNanchor_159_159"><span class="label">[159]</span></a> <i>Works</i> (Life of Reid), x. 304-8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_160_160" id="Footnote_160_160"></a><a href="#FNanchor_160_160"><span class="label">[160]</span></a> Reid's <i>Works</i> (Hamilton), p. 302.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_161_161" id="Footnote_161_161"></a><a href="#FNanchor_161_161"><span class="label">[161]</span></a> Reid's <i>Works</i> (Hamilton), p. 88.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_162_162" id="Footnote_162_162"></a><a href="#FNanchor_162_162"><span class="label">[162]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> 206.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_163_163" id="Footnote_163_163"></a><a href="#FNanchor_163_163"><span class="label">[163]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> 267.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_164_164" id="Footnote_164_164"></a><a href="#FNanchor_164_164"><span class="label">[164]</span></a> Stewart's remarks on his life of Reid: Reid's <i>Works</i>, +p. 12, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_165_165" id="Footnote_165_165"></a><a href="#FNanchor_165_165"><span class="label">[165]</span></a> <i>The World as Will and Idea</i> (Haldane & Kemp), ii. 186. +Reid's '<i>Inquiry</i>,' he adds, is ten times better worth reading than +all the philosophy together which has been written since Kant.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_166_166" id="Footnote_166_166"></a><a href="#FNanchor_166_166"><span class="label">[166]</span></a> 'We are inspired with the sensation, as we are inspired +with the corresponding perception, by means unknown.'—Reid's <i>Works</i>, +188. 'This,' says Stewart, 'is a plain statement of fact.'—Stewart's +<i>Works</i>, ii. 111-12.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_167_167" id="Footnote_167_167"></a><a href="#FNanchor_167_167"><span class="label">[167]</span></a> See Rosmini's <i>Origin of Ideas</i> (English translation), +i. p. 91, where, though sympathising with Reid's aim, he admits a +'great blunder.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_168_168" id="Footnote_168_168"></a><a href="#FNanchor_168_168"><span class="label">[168]</span></a> Stewart's <i>Works</i>, v. 24-53. Hamilton says in a note +(p. 41) that Jeffrey candidly confessed Stewart's reply to be +satisfactory.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_169_169" id="Footnote_169_169"></a><a href="#FNanchor_169_169"><span class="label">[169]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 46.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_170_170" id="Footnote_170_170"></a><a href="#FNanchor_170_170"><span class="label">[170]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 45-67.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_171_171" id="Footnote_171_171"></a><a href="#FNanchor_171_171"><span class="label">[171]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 159.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_172_172" id="Footnote_172_172"></a><a href="#FNanchor_172_172"><span class="label">[172]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 21.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_173_173" id="Footnote_173_173"></a><a href="#FNanchor_173_173"><span class="label">[173]</span></a> Stewart's <i>Works</i>, ii. 165-93; iii. 81-97. Schopenhauer +(<i>The World as Will and Idea</i>, ii. 240) admires Reid's teaching upon +this point, and recommends us not 'to waste an hour over the +scribblings of this shallow writer' (Stewart).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_174_174" id="Footnote_174_174"></a><a href="#FNanchor_174_174"><span class="label">[174]</span></a> Rosmini's <i>Origin of Ideas</i> (English translation), i. +96-176.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_175_175" id="Footnote_175_175"></a><a href="#FNanchor_175_175"><span class="label">[175]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 147 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_176_176" id="Footnote_176_176"></a><a href="#FNanchor_176_176"><span class="label">[176]</span></a> Stewart's <i>Works</i>, iv. 29, 35, 38, and v. 149-88.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_177_177" id="Footnote_177_177"></a><a href="#FNanchor_177_177"><span class="label">[177]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 97, etc., and iii. 235, 389, 417.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_178_178" id="Footnote_178_178"></a><a href="#FNanchor_178_178"><span class="label">[178]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vii. 13-34.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_179_179" id="Footnote_179_179"></a><a href="#FNanchor_179_179"><span class="label">[179]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vii. 26, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_180_180" id="Footnote_180_180"></a><a href="#FNanchor_180_180"><span class="label">[180]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, iv. 265.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_181_181" id="Footnote_181_181"></a><a href="#FNanchor_181_181"><span class="label">[181]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 52.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_182_182" id="Footnote_182_182"></a><a href="#FNanchor_182_182"><span class="label">[182]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 10.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_183_183" id="Footnote_183_183"></a><a href="#FNanchor_183_183"><span class="label">[183]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ii. 155.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_184_184" id="Footnote_184_184"></a><a href="#FNanchor_184_184"><span class="label">[184]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 337.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_185_185" id="Footnote_185_185"></a><a href="#FNanchor_185_185"><span class="label">[185]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vi. 46; vii. 11.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_186_186" id="Footnote_186_186"></a><a href="#FNanchor_186_186"><span class="label">[186]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vii. 46.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_187_187" id="Footnote_187_187"></a><a href="#FNanchor_187_187"><span class="label">[187]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 357.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_188_188" id="Footnote_188_188"></a><a href="#FNanchor_188_188"><span class="label">[188]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vi. 320.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_189_189" id="Footnote_189_189"></a><a href="#FNanchor_189_189"><span class="label">[189]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vi. 279.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_190_190" id="Footnote_190_190"></a><a href="#FNanchor_190_190"><span class="label">[190]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vi. 297.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_191_191" id="Footnote_191_191"></a><a href="#FNanchor_191_191"><span class="label">[191]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vi. 295. Cf. v. 83.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_192_192" id="Footnote_192_192"></a><a href="#FNanchor_192_192"><span class="label">[192]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vi. 298-99.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_193_193" id="Footnote_193_193"></a><a href="#FNanchor_193_193"><span class="label">[193]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 84.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_194_194" id="Footnote_194_194"></a><a href="#FNanchor_194_194"><span class="label">[194]</span></a> In <i>Works</i>, vi. 205-6, he quotes Dumont's <i>Bentham</i>; +but his general silence is the more significant, as in the lectures on +Political Economy he makes frequent and approving reference to +Bentham's tract upon usury.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_195_195" id="Footnote_195_195"></a><a href="#FNanchor_195_195"><span class="label">[195]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vii. 236-38.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_196_196" id="Footnote_196_196"></a><a href="#FNanchor_196_196"><span class="label">[196]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vi. 221.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_197_197" id="Footnote_197_197"></a><a href="#FNanchor_197_197"><span class="label">[197]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vi. 213.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_198_198" id="Footnote_198_198"></a><a href="#FNanchor_198_198"><span class="label">[198]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vi. 199.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_199_199" id="Footnote_199_199"></a><a href="#FNanchor_199_199"><span class="label">[199]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vi. 111.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_200_200" id="Footnote_200_200"></a><a href="#FNanchor_200_200"><span class="label">[200]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, v. 117 18. I have given some details as to +Stewart's suffering under an English proselyte of Kant in my <i>Studies +of a Biographer</i>.</p></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>BENTHAM'S LIFE</h3> + +<p class="scs">I. <a name="V_I" id="V_I"></a>EARLY LIFE</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +Jeremy Bentham,<a name="FNanchor_201_201" id="FNanchor_201_201"></a><a href="#Footnote_201_201" class="fnanchor">[201]</a> the patriarch of the English Utilitarians, sprang +from the class imbued most thoroughly with the typical English +prejudices. His first recorded ancestor, Brian Bentham, was a +pawnbroker, who lost money by the stop of the Exchequer in 1672, but +was neither ruined, nor, it would seem, alienated by the king's +dishonesty. He left some thousands to his son, Jeremiah, an attorney +and a strong Jacobite. A second Jeremiah, born 2nd December 1712, +carried on his father's business, and though his clients were not +numerous, increased his fortune by judicious investments in houses and +lands. Although brought up in Jacobite +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +principles, he transferred his +attachment to the Hanoverian dynasty when a relation of his wife +married a valet of George <small>II.</small> The wife, Alicia Grove, was daughter of +a tradesman who had made a small competence at Andover. Jeremiah +Bentham had fallen in love with her at first sight, and wisely gave up +for her sake a match with a fortune of £10,000. The couple were fondly +attached to each other and to their children. The marriage took place +towards the end of 1744, and the eldest son, Jeremy, was born in Red +Lion Street, Houndsditch, 4th February 1747-48 (o.s.) The only other +child who grew up was Samuel, afterwards Sir Samuel Bentham, born 11th +January 1757. When eighty years old, Jeremy gave anecdotes of his +infancy to his biographer, Bowring, who says that their accuracy was +confirmed by contemporary documents, and proved his memory to be as +wonderful as his precocity. Although the child was physically puny, +his intellectual development was amazing. Before he was two he burst +into tears at the sight of his mother's chagrin upon his refusal of +some offered dainty. Before he was 'breeched,' an event which happened +when he was three and a quarter, he ran home from a dull walk, ordered +a footman to bring lights and place a folio <i>Rapin</i> upon the table, +and was found plunged in historical studies when his parents returned +to the house. In his fourth year he was imbibing the Latin grammar, +and at the age of five years nine months and nineteen days, as his +father notes, he wrote a scrap of Latin, carefully pasted among the +parental memoranda. The child was not always immured in London. His +parents spent their Sundays with the grandfather Bentham at Barking, +and made +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +occasional excursions to the house of Mrs. Bentham's mother +at Browning Hill, near Reading. Bentham remembered the last as a +'paradise,' and a love of flowers and gardens became one of his +permanent passions.</p> + +<p>Jeremy cherished the memory of his mother's tenderness. The father, +though less sympathetic, was proud of his son's precocity, and +apparently injudicious in stimulating the unformed intellect. The boy +was almost a dwarf in size. When sixteen he grew ahead,<a name="FNanchor_202_202" id="FNanchor_202_202"></a><a href="#Footnote_202_202" class="fnanchor">[202]</a> and was +so feeble that he could scarcely drag himself upstairs. Attempts to +teach him dancing failed from the extreme weakness of his knees.<a name="FNanchor_203_203" id="FNanchor_203_203"></a><a href="#Footnote_203_203" class="fnanchor">[203]</a> +He showed a taste for music, and could scrape a minuet on the fiddle +at six years of age. He read all such books as came in his way. His +parents objected to light literature, and he was crammed with such +solid works as <i>Rapin</i>, Burnet's <i>Theory of the Earth</i>, and Cave's +<i>Lives of the Apostles</i>. Various accidents, however, furnished him +with better food for the imagination. He wept for hours over <i>Clarissa +Harlowe</i>, studied <i>Gulliver's Travels</i> as an authentic document, and +dipped into a variety of such books as then drifted into middle-class +libraries. A French teacher introduced him to some remarkable books. +He read <i>Télémaque</i>, which deeply impressed him, and, as he thought, +implanted in his mind the seeds of later moralising. He attacked +unsuccessfully some of Voltaire's historical works, and even read +<i>Candide</i>, with what emotions we are not told. The servants meanwhile +filled his fancy with ghosts and hobgoblins. To the end of his days he +was still haunted by the imaginary horrors in the dark,<a name="FNanchor_204_204" id="FNanchor_204_204"></a><a href="#Footnote_204_204" class="fnanchor">[204]</a> and he +says<a name="FNanchor_205_205" id="FNanchor_205_205"></a><a href="#Footnote_205_205" class="fnanchor">[205]</a> that they had been among the torments of his life. He had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +few companions of his own age, and though he was 'not unhappy' and was +never subjected to corporal punishment, he felt more awe than +affection for his father. His mother, to whom he was strongly +attached, died on 6th January 1759.</p> + +<p>Bentham was thus a strangely precocious, and a morbidly sensitive +child, when it was decided in 1755 to send him to Westminster. The +headmaster, Dr. Markham, was a friend of his father's. Westminster, he +says, represented 'hell' for him when Browning Hill stood for +paradise. The instruction 'was wretched,' The fagging system was a +'horrid despotism.' The games were too much for his strength. His +industry, however, enabled him to escape the birch, no small +achievement in those days,<a name="FNanchor_206_206" id="FNanchor_206_206"></a><a href="#Footnote_206_206" class="fnanchor">[206]</a> and he became distinguished in the +studies such as they were. He learned the catechism by heart, and was +good at Greek and Latin verses, which he manufactured for his +companions as well as himself. He had also the rarer accomplishment, +acquired from his early tutor, of writing more easily in French than +English. Some of his writings were originally composed in French. He +was, according to Bowring, elected to one of the King's scholarships +when between nine and ten, but as 'ill-usage was apprehended' the +appointment was declined.<a name="FNanchor_207_207" id="FNanchor_207_207"></a><a href="#Footnote_207_207" class="fnanchor">[207]</a> He was at a boarding-house, and the +life of the boys on the foundation was probably rougher. In June 1760 +his father took him to Oxford, and entered him as a commoner at +Queen's College. He came into residence in the following October, when +only twelve +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +years old. Oxford was not more congenial than +Westminster. He had to sign the Thirty-nine Articles in spite of +scruples suppressed by authority. The impression made upon him by this +childish compliance never left him to the end of his life.<a name="FNanchor_208_208" id="FNanchor_208_208"></a><a href="#Footnote_208_208" class="fnanchor">[208]</a> His +experience resembled that of Adam Smith and Gibbon. Laziness and vice +were prevalent. A gentleman commoner of Queen's was president of a +'hellfire club,' and brutal horseplay was still practised upon the +weaker lads. Bentham, still a schoolboy in age, continued his +schoolboy course. He wrote Latin verses, and one of his experiments, +an ode upon the death of George <small>II.</small>, was sent to Johnson, who called +it 'a very pretty performance for a young man.' He also had to go +through the form of disputation in the schools. Queen's College had +some reputation at this time for teaching logic.<a name="FNanchor_209_209" id="FNanchor_209_209"></a><a href="#Footnote_209_209" class="fnanchor">[209]</a> Bentham was set +to read Watt's <i>Logic</i> (1725), Sanderson's <i>Compendium artis Logicae</i> +(1615), and Rowning's <i>Compendious System of Natural Philosophy</i> +(1735-42). Some traces of these studies remained in his mind.</p> + +<p>In 1763 Bentham took his B.A. degree, and returned to his home. It is +significant that when robbed of all his money at Oxford he did not +confide in his father. He was paying by a morbid reserve for the +attempts made to force him into premature activity. He accepted the +career imposed by his father's wishes, and in November 1763 began to +eat his dinners in Lincoln's Inn. He returned, however, to Oxford in +December to hear Blackstone's lectures. These lectures were then a +novelty at an English university. The Vinerian professorship had been +founded in 1758 in consequence of the success of a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +course voluntarily +given by Blackstone; and his lectures contained the substance of the +famous Commentaries, first published 1765-1769. They had a great +effect upon Bentham. He says that he 'immediately detected +Blackstone's fallacy respecting natural rights,' thought other +doctrines illogical, and was so much occupied by these reflections as +to be unable to take notes. Bentham's dissatisfaction with Blackstone +had not yet made him an opponent of the constituted order. He was +present at some of the proceedings against Wilkes, and was perfectly +bewitched by Lord Mansfield's '<i>Grim-gibber</i>,' that is, taken in by +his pompous verbiage.<a name="FNanchor_210_210" id="FNanchor_210_210"></a><a href="#Footnote_210_210" class="fnanchor">[210]</a></p> + +<p>In 1765 his father married Mrs. Abbot, the mother of Charles Abbot, +afterwards Lord Colchester. Bentham's dislike of his step-mother +increased the distance between him and his father. He took his M.A. +degree in 1766 and in 1767 finally left Oxford for London to begin, as +his father fondly hoped, a flight towards the woolsack. The lad's +diffidence and extreme youth had indeed prevented him from forming the +usual connections which his father anticipated as the result of a +college life. His career as a barrister was short and grievously +disappointing to the parental hopes. His father, like the Elder +Fairford in <i>Redgauntlet</i>, had 'a cause or two at nurse' for the son. +The son's first thought was to 'put them to death,' A brief was given +to him in a suit, upon which £50 depended. He advised that the suit +should be dropped and the money saved. Other experiences only +increased his repugnance to his profession.<a name="FNanchor_211_211" id="FNanchor_211_211"></a><a href="#Footnote_211_211" class="fnanchor">[211]</a> A singularly strong +impression had been made upon him by the <i>Memoirs</i> of Teresa +Constantia Phipps, in which +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +there is an account of vexatious legal +proceedings as to the heroine's marriage. He appears to have first +read this book in 1759. Then, he says, the 'Demon of Chicane appeared +to me in all his hideousness. I vowed war against him. My vow has been +accomplished!'<a name="FNanchor_212_212" id="FNanchor_212_212"></a><a href="#Footnote_212_212" class="fnanchor">[212]</a> Bentham thus went to the bar as a 'bear to the +stake.' He diverged in more than one direction. He studied chemistry +under Fordyce (1736-1802), and hankered after physical science. He was +long afterwards (1788) member of a club to which Sir Joseph Banks, +John Hunter, R. L. Edgeworth, and other men of scientific reputation +belonged.<a name="FNanchor_213_213" id="FNanchor_213_213"></a><a href="#Footnote_213_213" class="fnanchor">[213]</a> But he had drifted into a course of speculation, which, +though more germane to legal studies, was equally fatal to +professional success. The father despaired, and he was considered to +be a 'lost child.'</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_201_201" id="Footnote_201_201"></a><a href="#FNanchor_201_201"><span class="label">[201]</span></a> The main authority for Bentham's Life is Bowring's +account in the two last volumes of the <i>Works</i>. Bain's <i>Life of James +Mill</i> gives some useful facts as to the later period. There is +comparatively little mention of Bentham in contemporary memoirs. +Little is said of him in Romilly's <i>Life</i>. Parr's <i>Works</i>, i. and +viii., contains some letters. See also R. Dale Owen's <i>Threading my +Way</i> pp. 175-78. A little book called <i>Utilitarianism Unmasked</i>, by +the Rev. J. F. Colls, D.D. (1844), gives some reminiscences by Colls, +who had been Bentham's amanuensis for fourteen years. Colls, who took +orders, disliked Bentham's religious levity, and denounces his vanity, +but admits his early kindness. Voluminous collections of the papers +used by Bowring are at University College, and at the British Museum.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_202_202" id="Footnote_202_202"></a><a href="#FNanchor_202_202"><span class="label">[202]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 33.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_203_203" id="Footnote_203_203"></a><a href="#FNanchor_203_203"><span class="label">[203]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 31.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_204_204" id="Footnote_204_204"></a><a href="#FNanchor_204_204"><span class="label">[204]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 84.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_205_205" id="Footnote_205_205"></a><a href="#FNanchor_205_205"><span class="label">[205]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_206_206" id="Footnote_206_206"></a><a href="#FNanchor_206_206"><span class="label">[206]</span></a> Southey was expelled from Westminster in 1792 for +attacking the birch in a schoolboy paper.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_207_207" id="Footnote_207_207"></a><a href="#FNanchor_207_207"><span class="label">[207]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 38. Bowring's confused statement, I take +it, means this. Bentham, in any case, was not on the foundation. See +Welsh's <i>Alumni West</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_208_208" id="Footnote_208_208"></a><a href="#FNanchor_208_208"><span class="label">[208]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 37.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_209_209" id="Footnote_209_209"></a><a href="#FNanchor_209_209"><span class="label">[209]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> viii. 113, 217.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_210_210" id="Footnote_210_210"></a><a href="#FNanchor_210_210"><span class="label">[210]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 45.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_211_211" id="Footnote_211_211"></a><a href="#FNanchor_211_211"><span class="label">[211]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 51, 78, 83.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_212_212" id="Footnote_212_212"></a><a href="#FNanchor_212_212"><span class="label">[212]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 35, 77. References are given to this book +in <i>Works</i>, vii. 219-20 ('Rationale of Evidence'). Several editions +appeared from 1725 to 1761. See <i>Works</i>, vi. 465, for a recollection +of similar experiences.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_213_213" id="Footnote_213_213"></a><a href="#FNanchor_213_213"><span class="label">[213]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> viii. 148 <i>n.</i>; x. 183.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">II. <a name="V_II" id="V_II"></a>FIRST WRITINGS</p> + +<p>Though lost to the bar, he had really found himself. He had taken the +line prescribed by his idiosyncrasy. His father's injudicious forcing +had increased his shyness at the bar, and he was like an owl in +daylight. But no one, as we shall see, was less diffident in +speculation. Self-confidence in a philosopher is often the private +credit which he opens with his imagination to compensate for his +incapacity in the rough struggles of active life. Bentham shrank from +the world in which he was easily browbeaten to the study in which he +could reign supreme. He had not the strong passions which prompt +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +commonplace ambition, and cared little for the prizes for which most +men will sacrifice their lives. Nor, on the other hand, can he be +credited with that ardent philanthropy or vehement indignation which +prompts to an internecine struggle with actual wrongdoers. He had not +the ardour which led Howard to devote a life to destroy abuses, or +that which turned Swift's blood to gall in the struggle against +triumphant corruption. He was thoroughly amiable, but of kindly rather +than energetic affections. He, therefore, desired reform, but so far +from regarding the ruling classes with rancour, took their part +against the democrats. 'I was a great reformist,' he says, 'but never +suspected that the "people in power" were against reform. I supposed +they only wanted to know what was good in order to embrace it.'<a name="FNanchor_214_214" id="FNanchor_214_214"></a><a href="#Footnote_214_214" class="fnanchor">[214]</a> +The most real of pleasures for him lay in speculating upon the general +principles by which the 'people in power' should be guided. To +construct a general chart for legislation, to hunt down sophistries, +to explode mere noisy rhetoric, to classify and arrange and +re-classify until his whole intellectual wealth was neatly arranged in +proper pigeon-holes, was a delight for its own sake. He wished well to +mankind; he detested abuses, but he hated neither the corrupted nor +the corruptors; and it might almost seem that he rather valued the +benevolent end, because it gave employment to his faculties, than +valued the employment because it led to the end. This is implied in +his remark made at the end of his life. He was, he said, as selfish as +a man could be; but 'somehow or other' selfishness had in him taken +the form of benevolence.<a name="FNanchor_215_215" id="FNanchor_215_215"></a><a href="#Footnote_215_215" class="fnanchor">[215]</a> He was at any rate in the position of a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +man with the agreeable conviction that he has only to prove the wisdom +of a given course in order to secure its adoption. Like many +mechanical inventors, he took for granted that a process which was +shown to be useful would therefore be at once adopted, and failed to +anticipate the determined opposition of the great mass of 'vested +interests' already in possession.</p> + +<p>At this period he made the discovery, or what he held to be the +discovery, which governed his whole future career. He laid down the +principle which was to give the clue to all his investigations; and, +as he thought, required only to be announced to secure universal +acceptance. When Bentham revolted against the intellectual food +provided at school and college, he naturally took up the philosophy +which at that period represented the really living stream of thought. +To be a man of enlightenment in those days was to belong to the school +of Locke. Locke represented reason, free thought, and the abandonment +of prejudice. Besides Locke, he mentions Hume, Montesquieu, Helvétius, +Beccaria, and Barrington. Helvétius especially did much to suggest to +him his leading principle, and upon country trips which he took with +his father and step-mother, he used to lag behind studying Helvétius' +<i>De l'Esprit</i>.<a name="FNanchor_216_216" id="FNanchor_216_216"></a><a href="#Footnote_216_216" class="fnanchor">[216]</a> Locke, he says in an early note (1773-1774), +should give the principles, Helvétius the matter, of a complete digest +of the law. He mentions with especial interest the third volume of +Hume's <i>Treatise on Human Nature</i> for its ethical views: 'he felt as +if scales fell from his eyes' when he read it.<a name="FNanchor_217_217" id="FNanchor_217_217"></a><a href="#Footnote_217_217" class="fnanchor">[217]</a> Daines +Barrington's <i>Observations on the Statutes</i> (1766) interested him by +miscellaneous suggestions. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +The book, he says,<a name="FNanchor_218_218" id="FNanchor_218_218"></a><a href="#Footnote_218_218" class="fnanchor">[218]</a> was a 'great +treasure.' 'It is everything, <i>à propos</i> of everything; I wrote +volumes upon this volume.' Beccaria's treatise upon crimes and +punishments had appeared in 1764, and had excited the applause of +Europe. The world was clearly ready for a fundamental reconstruction +of legislative theories. Under the influence of such studies Bentham +formulated his famous principle—a principle which to some seemed a +barren truism, to others a mere epigram, and to some a dangerous +falsehood. Bentham accepted it not only as true, but as expressing a +truth of extraordinary fecundity, capable of guiding him through the +whole labyrinth of political and legislative speculation. His +'fundamental axiom' is that 'the greatest happiness of the greatest +number is the measure of right and wrong.'<a name="FNanchor_219_219" id="FNanchor_219_219"></a><a href="#Footnote_219_219" class="fnanchor">[219]</a> Bentham himself<a name="FNanchor_220_220" id="FNanchor_220_220"></a><a href="#Footnote_220_220" class="fnanchor">[220]</a> +attributes the authorship of the phrase to Beccaria or Priestley. The +general order of thought to which this theory belongs was of course +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +not the property of any special writer or any particular period. Here +I need only observe that this embodiment of the general doctrine of +utility or morality had been struck out by Hutcheson in the attempt +(as his title says) 'to introduce a mathematical calculation on +subjects of morality.' This defines the exact reason which made it +acceptable to Bentham. For the vague reference to utility which +appears in Hume and other writers of his school, he substituted a +formula, the terms of which suggest the possibility of an accurate +quantitative comparison of different sums of happiness. In Bentham's +mind the difference between this and the more general formula was like +the difference between the statement that the planets gravitate +towards the sun, and the more precise statement that the law of +gravitation varies inversely as the square of the distance. Bentham +hoped for no less an achievement than to become the Newton of the +moral world.</p> + +<p>Bentham, after leaving Oxford, took chambers in Lincoln's Inn. His +father on his second marriage had settled some property upon him, +which brought in some £90 a year. He had to live like a gentleman upon +this, and to give four guineas a year to the laundress, four to his +barber, and two to his shoeblack. In spite of Jeremy's deviation from +the path of preferment, the two were on friendly terms, and when the +hopes of the son's professional success grew faint, the father showed +sympathy with his literary undertakings. Jeremy visited Paris in 1770, +but made few acquaintances, though he was already regarded as a +'philosopher.' In 1778 he was in correspondence with d'Alembert, the +abbé Morellet, and other philanthropic philosophers, but it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +does not +appear at what time this connection began.<a name="FNanchor_221_221" id="FNanchor_221_221"></a><a href="#Footnote_221_221" class="fnanchor">[221]</a> He translated +Voltaire's <i>Taureau Blanc</i><a name="FNanchor_222_222" id="FNanchor_222_222"></a><a href="#Footnote_222_222" class="fnanchor">[222]</a>—a story which used to 'convulse him +with laughter.' A reference to it will show that Bentham by this time +took the Voltairean view of the Old Testament. Bentham, however, was +still on the side of the Tories. His first publication was a defence +of Lord Mansfield in 1770 against attacks arising out of the +prosecution of Woodfall for publishing Junius's letter to the king. +This defence, contained in two letters, signed Irenæus, was published +in the <i>Gazetteer</i>. Bentham's next performance was remarkable in the +same sense. Among the few friends who drifted to his chambers was John +Lind (1737-1781), who had been a clergyman, and after acting as tutor +to a prince in Poland, had returned to London and become a writer for +the press. He had business relations with the elder Bentham, and the +younger Bentham was to some extent his collaborator in a pamphlet<a name="FNanchor_223_223" id="FNanchor_223_223"></a><a href="#Footnote_223_223" class="fnanchor">[223]</a> +which defended the conduct of ministers to the American colonies. +Bentham observes that he was prejudiced against the Americans by the +badness of their arguments, and thought from the first, as he +continued to think, that the Declaration of Independence was a +hodge-podge of confusion and absurdity, in which the thing to be +proved is all along taken for granted.<a name="FNanchor_224_224" id="FNanchor_224_224"></a><a href="#Footnote_224_224" class="fnanchor">[224]</a> Two other friendships were +formed by Bentham about this time: one with James Trail, an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +unsuccessful barrister, who owed a seat in Parliament and some minor +offices to Lord Hertford, and is said by Romilly to have been a man of +great talent; and one with George Wilson, afterwards a leader of the +Norfolk circuit, who had become known to him through a common interest +in Dr. Fordyce's lectures upon chemistry. Wilson became a bosom +friend, and was one of Bentham's first disciples, though they were +ultimately alienated.<a name="FNanchor_225_225" id="FNanchor_225_225"></a><a href="#Footnote_225_225" class="fnanchor">[225]</a></p> + +<p>At this time, Bentham says, that his was 'truly a miserable +life.'<a name="FNanchor_226_226" id="FNanchor_226_226"></a><a href="#Footnote_226_226" class="fnanchor">[226]</a> Yet he was getting to work upon his grand project. He +tells his father on 1st October 1776 that he is writing his <i>Critical +Elements of Jurisprudence</i>, the book of which a part was afterwards +published as the <i>Introduction to the Principles of Morals and +Legislation</i>.<a name="FNanchor_227_227" id="FNanchor_227_227"></a><a href="#Footnote_227_227" class="fnanchor">[227]</a> In the same year he published his first important +work, the <i>Fragment on Government</i>. The year was in many ways +memorable. The Declaration of Independence marked the opening of a new +political era. Adam Smith's <i>Wealth of Nations</i> and Gibbon's <i>Decline +and Fall</i> formed landmarks in speculation and in history; and +Bentham's volume, though it made no such impression, announced a +serious attempt to apply scientific methods to problems of +legislation. The preface contained the first declaration of his famous +formula which was applied to the confutation of Blackstone. Bentham +was apparently roused to this effort by recollections of the Oxford +lectures. The <i>Commentaries</i> contained a certain quantity of +philosophical rhetoric; and as Blackstone was much greater in a +literary than in a philosophical sense, the result was naturally +unsatisfactory from a scientific point +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +of view. He had vaguely +appealed to the sound Whig doctrine of social compact, and while +disavowing any strict historical basis had not inquired too curiously +what was left of his supposed foundation. Bentham pounced upon the +unfortunate bit of verbiage; insisted upon asking for a meaning when +there was nothing but a rhetorical flourish, and tore the whole flimsy +fabric to rags and tatters. A more bitter attack upon Blackstone, +chiefly, as Bowring says, upon his defence of the Jewish law, was +suppressed for fear of the law of libel.<a name="FNanchor_228_228" id="FNanchor_228_228"></a><a href="#Footnote_228_228" class="fnanchor">[228]</a> The <i>Fragment</i> was +published anonymously, but Bentham had confided the secret to his +father by way of suggesting some slight set-off against his apparent +unwillingness to emerge from obscurity. The book was at first +attributed to Lord Mansfield, Lord Camden, and to Dunning. It was +pirated in Dublin; and most of the five hundred copies printed appear +to have been sold, though without profit to the author. The father's +indiscretion let out the secret; and the sale, when the book was known +to be written by a nobody, fell off at once, or so Bentham believed. +The anonymous writer, however, was denounced and accused of being the +author of much ribaldry, and among other accusations was said to be +not only the translator but the writer of the <i>White Bull</i>.<a name="FNanchor_229_229" id="FNanchor_229_229"></a><a href="#Footnote_229_229" class="fnanchor">[229]</a></p> + +<p>Bentham had fancied that all manner of 'torches from the highest +regions' would come to light themselves at his 'farthing candle.' None +of them came, and he was left for some years in obscurity, though +still labouring at +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +the great work which was one day to enlighten the +world. At last, however, partial recognition came to him in a shape +which greatly influenced his career. Lord Shelburne, afterwards +marquis of Lansdowne, had been impressed by the <i>Fragment</i>, and in +1781 sought out Bentham at his chambers. Shelburne's career was to +culminate in the following year with his brief tenure of the +premiership (3rd July 1782 to 24th February 1783). Rightly or wrongly +his contemporaries felt the distrust indicated by his nickname +'Malagrida,' which appears to have been partly suggested by a habit of +overstrained compliment. He incurred the dislike not unfrequently +excited by men who claim superiority of intellect without possessing +the force of character which gives a corresponding weight in political +affairs. Although his education had been bad, he had something of that +cosmopolitan training which enabled many members of the aristocracy to +look beyond the narrow middle-class prejudices and share in some +degree the wider philosophical movements of the day. He had enjoyed +the friendship of Franklin, and had been the patron of Priestley, who +made some of his chemical discoveries at Bowood, and to whom he +allowed an annuity. He belonged to that section of the Whigs which had +most sympathy with the revolutionary movement. His chief political +lieutenants were Dunning and Barré, who at the time sat for his +borough Calne. He now rapidly formed an intimacy with Bentham, who +went to stay at Bowood in the autumn of 1781. Bentham now and then in +later years made some rather disparaging remarks upon Shelburne, whom +he apparently considered to be rather an amateur than a serious +philosopher, and who in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +House of Lords talked 'vague +generalities'—the sacred phrase by which the Utilitarians denounced +all preaching but their own—in a way to impose upon the thoughtless. +He respected Shelburne, however, as one who trusted the people, and +was distrusted by the Whig aristocracy. He felt, too, a real affection +and gratitude for the patron to whom he owed so much. Shelburne had +done him a great service.<a name="FNanchor_230_230" id="FNanchor_230_230"></a><a href="#Footnote_230_230" class="fnanchor">[230]</a> 'He raised me from the bottomless pit +of humiliation. He made me feel I was something.' The elder Bentham +was impressed by his son's acquaintance with a man in so eminent a +position, and hoped that it might lead by a different path to the +success which had been missed at the bar. At Bowood Bentham stayed +over a month upon his first visit, and was treated in the manner +appropriate to a philosopher. The men showed him friendliness, dashed +with occasional contempt, and the ladies petted him. He met Lord +Camden and Dunning and young William Pitt, and some minor adherents of +the great man. Pitt was 'very good-natured and a little raw.' I was +monstrously 'frightened at him,' but, when I came to talk with him, he +seemed 'frightened at me.'<a name="FNanchor_231_231" id="FNanchor_231_231"></a><a href="#Footnote_231_231" class="fnanchor">[231]</a> Bentham, however, did not see what +ideas they were likely to have in common. In fact there was the usual +gulf between the speculative thinker and the practical man. 'All the +statesmen,' so thought the philosopher, 'were wanting in the great +elements of statesmanship': they were always talking about 'what was' +and seldom or never about 'what ought to be.'<a name="FNanchor_232_232" id="FNanchor_232_232"></a><a href="#Footnote_232_232" class="fnanchor">[232]</a> Occasionally, it +would seem, they descended lower, and made a little fun of the shy and +over-sensitive intruder.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span><a name="FNanchor_233_233" id="FNanchor_233_233"></a><a href="#Footnote_233_233" class="fnanchor">[233]</a> The ladies, however, made it up to him. +Shelburne made him read his 'dry metaphysics' to them,<a name="FNanchor_234_234" id="FNanchor_234_234"></a><a href="#Footnote_234_234" class="fnanchor">[234]</a> and they +received it with feminine docility. Lord Shelburne had lately (1779) +married his second wife, Louisa, daughter of the first earl of Upper +Ossory. Her sister, Lady Mary Fitz-Patrick, married in 1766 to Stephen +Fox, afterwards Lord Holland, was the mother of the Lord Holland of +later days and of Miss Caroline Fox, who survived till 1845, and was +at this time a pleasant girl of thirteen or fourteen. Lady Shelburne +had also two half-sisters, daughters of her mother's second marriage +to Richard Vernon. Lady Shelburne took a fancy to Bentham, and gave +him the 'prodigious privilege' of admission to her dressing-room. +Though haughty in manner, she was mild in reality, and after a time +she and her sister indulged in 'innocent gambols.' In her last +illness, Bentham was one of the only two men whom she would see, and +upon her death in 1789, he was the only male friend to whom her +husband turned for consolation. Miss Fox seems to have been the only +woman who inspired Bentham with a sentiment approaching to passion. He +wrote occasional letters to the ladies in the tone of elephantine +pleasantry natural to one who was all his life both a philosopher and +a child.<a name="FNanchor_235_235" id="FNanchor_235_235"></a><a href="#Footnote_235_235" class="fnanchor">[235]</a> He made an offer of marriage to Miss Fox in 1805, when +he was nearer sixty than fifty, and when they had not met for sixteen +years. The immediate occasion was presumably the death of Lord +Lansdowne. She replied in a friendly letter, regretting the pain which +her refusal would inflict. In 1827 Bentham, then in his eightieth +year, wrote once more, speaking of the flower she had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +given him 'in +the green lane,' and asking for a kind answer. He was 'indescribably +hurt and disappointed' by a cold and distant reply. The tears would +come into the old man's eyes as he dealt upon the cherished memories +of Bowood.<a name="FNanchor_236_236" id="FNanchor_236_236"></a><a href="#Footnote_236_236" class="fnanchor">[236]</a> It is pleasant to know that Bentham was once in love; +though his love seems to have been chiefly for a memory associated +with what he called the happiest time of his life.</p> + +<p>Shelburne had a project for a marriage between Bentham and the widow +of Lord Ashburton (Dunning), who died in 1783.<a name="FNanchor_237_237" id="FNanchor_237_237"></a><a href="#Footnote_237_237" class="fnanchor">[237]</a> He also made some +overtures of patronage. 'He asked me,' says Bentham,<a name="FNanchor_238_238" id="FNanchor_238_238"></a><a href="#Footnote_238_238" class="fnanchor">[238]</a> 'what he +could do for me? I told him, nothing,' and this conduct—so different +from that of others, 'endeared me to him.' Bentham declined one offer +in 1788; but in 1790 he suddenly took it into his head that Lansdowne +had promised him a seat in parliament; and immediately set forth his +claims in a vast argumentative letter of sixty-one pages.<a name="FNanchor_239_239" id="FNanchor_239_239"></a><a href="#Footnote_239_239" class="fnanchor">[239]</a> +Lansdowne replied conclusively that he had not made the supposed +promise, and had had every reason to suppose that Bentham preferred +retirement to politics. Bentham accepted the statement frankly, though +a short coolness apparently followed. The claim, in fact, only +represented one of those passing moods to which Bentham was always +giving way at odd moments.</p> + +<p>Bentham's intimacy at Bowood led to more important results. In 1788 he +met Romilly and Dumont at Lord Lansdowne's table.<a name="FNanchor_240_240" id="FNanchor_240_240"></a><a href="#Footnote_240_240" class="fnanchor">[240]</a> He had already +met Romilly in 1784 through Wilson, but after this the intimacy became +close. Romilly had fallen in love with the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +<i>Fragment</i>, and in later +life he became Bentham's adviser in practical matters, and the chief +if not the sole expounder of Bentham's theories in parliament.<a name="FNanchor_241_241" id="FNanchor_241_241"></a><a href="#Footnote_241_241" class="fnanchor">[241]</a> +The alliance with Dumont was of even greater importance. Dumont, born +at Geneva in 1759, had become a Protestant minister; he was afterwards +tutor to Shelburne's son, and in 1788 visited Paris with Romilly and +made acquaintance with Mirabeau. Romilly showed Dumont some of +Bentham's papers written in French. Dumont offered to rewrite and to +superintend their publication. He afterwards received other papers +from Bentham himself, with whom he became personally acquainted after +his return from Paris.<a name="FNanchor_242_242" id="FNanchor_242_242"></a><a href="#Footnote_242_242" class="fnanchor">[242]</a> Dumont became Bentham's most devoted +disciple, and laboured unweariedly upon the translation and +condensation of his master's treatise. One result is odd enough. +Dumont, it is said, provided materials for some of Mirabeau's 'most +splendid' speeches; and some of these materials came from +Bentham.<a name="FNanchor_243_243" id="FNanchor_243_243"></a><a href="#Footnote_243_243" class="fnanchor">[243]</a> One would like to see how Bentham's prose was transmuted +into an oratory by Mirabeau. In any case, Dumont's services to Bentham +were invaluable. It is painful to add that according to Bowring the +two became so much alienated in the end, that in 1827 Bentham refused +to see Dumont, and declared that his chief interpreter did 'not +understand a word of his meaning.' Bowring attributes this separation +to a remark made by Dumont about the shabbiness of Bentham's dinners +as compared with those at Lansdowne House—a comparison which he calls +'offensive, uncalled-for, and groundless.'<a name="FNanchor_244_244" id="FNanchor_244_244"></a><a href="#Footnote_244_244" class="fnanchor">[244]</a> Bentham apparently +argued that a man +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +who did not like his dinners could not appreciate +his theories: a fallacy excusable only by the pettishness of old age. +Bowring, however, had a natural dulness which distorted many anecdotes +transmitted through him; and we may hope that in this case there was +some exaggeration.</p> + +<p>Bentham's emergence was, meanwhile, very slow. The great men whom he +met at Lord Lansdowne's were not specially impressed by the shy +philosopher. Wedderburn, so he heard, pronounced the fatal word +'dangerous' in regard to the <i>Fragment</i>.<a name="FNanchor_245_245" id="FNanchor_245_245"></a><a href="#Footnote_245_245" class="fnanchor">[245]</a> How, thought Bentham, +can utility be dangerous? Is this not self-contradictory? Later +reflection explained the puzzle. What is useful to the governed need +not be therefore useful to the governors. Mansfield, who was known to +Lind, said that in some parts the author of the <i>Fragment</i> was awake +and in others was asleep. In what parts? Bentham wondered. Awake, he +afterwards considered, in the parts where Blackstone, the object of +Mansfield's personal 'heart-burning,' was attacked; asleep where +Mansfield's own despotism was threatened. Camden was contemptuous; +Dunning only 'scowled' at him; and Barré, after taking in his book, +gave it back with the mysterious information that he had 'got into a +scrape.'<a name="FNanchor_246_246" id="FNanchor_246_246"></a><a href="#Footnote_246_246" class="fnanchor">[246]</a> The great book, therefore, though printed in 1781,<a name="FNanchor_247_247" id="FNanchor_247_247"></a><a href="#Footnote_247_247" class="fnanchor">[247]</a> +'stuck for eight years,'<a name="FNanchor_248_248" id="FNanchor_248_248"></a><a href="#Footnote_248_248" class="fnanchor">[248]</a> and the writer continued his obscure +existence in Lincoln's Inn.<a name="FNanchor_249_249" id="FNanchor_249_249"></a><a href="#Footnote_249_249" class="fnanchor">[249]</a> An opinion +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +which he gave in some +question as to the evidence in Warren Hastings's trial made, he says, +an impression in his favour. Before publication was achieved, however, +a curious episode altered Bentham's whole outlook. His brother Samuel +(1757-1831), whose education he had partly superintended,<a name="FNanchor_250_250" id="FNanchor_250_250"></a><a href="#Footnote_250_250" class="fnanchor">[250]</a> had +been apprenticed to a shipwright at Woolwich, and in 1780 had gone to +Russia in search of employment. Three years later he was sent by +Prince Potemkin to superintend a great industrial establishment at +Kritchev on a tributary of the Dnieper. There he was to be +'Jack-of-all-trades—building ships, like Harlequin, of odds and +ends—a rope-maker, a sail-maker, a distiller, brewer, malster, +tanner, glass-man, glass-grinder, potter, hemp-spinner, smith, and +coppersmith.'<a name="FNanchor_251_251" id="FNanchor_251_251"></a><a href="#Footnote_251_251" class="fnanchor">[251]</a> He was, that is, to transplant a fragment of +ready-made Western civilisation into Russia. Bentham resolved to pay a +visit to his brother, to whom he was strongly attached. He left +England in August 1785, and stayed some time at Constantinople, where +he met Maria James (1770-1836), the wife successively of W. Reveley +and of John Gisborne, and the friend of Shelley. Thence he travelled +by land to Kritchev, and settled with his brother at the neighbouring +estate of Zadobras. Bentham here passed a secluded life, interested in +his brother's occupations and mechanical inventions, and at the same +time keeping up his own intellectual labours. The most remarkable +result was the <i>Defence of Usury</i>, written in the beginning of 1787. +Bentham appends to it a respectful letter to Adam Smith, who had +supported the laws against usury inconsistently with his own general +principles. The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +disciple was simply carrying out those principles to +the logical application from which the master had shrunk. The +manuscript was sent to Wilson, who wished to suppress it.<a name="FNanchor_252_252" id="FNanchor_252_252"></a><a href="#Footnote_252_252" class="fnanchor">[252]</a> The +elder Bentham obtained it, and sent it to the press. The book met +Bentham as he was returning. It was highly praised by Thomas +Reid,<a name="FNanchor_253_253" id="FNanchor_253_253"></a><a href="#Footnote_253_253" class="fnanchor">[253]</a> and by the <i>Monthly Review</i>; it was translated into various +languages, and became one of the sacred books of the Economists. +Wilson is described as 'cold and cautious,' and he suppressed another +pamphlet upon prison discipline.<a name="FNanchor_254_254" id="FNanchor_254_254"></a><a href="#Footnote_254_254" class="fnanchor">[254]</a> In a letter to Bentham, dated +26th February 1787, however, Wilson disavows any responsibility for +the delay in the publication of the great book. 'The cause,' he says, +'lies in your constitution. With one-tenth part of your genius, and a +common degree of steadiness, both Sam and you would long since have +risen to great eminence. But your history, since I have known you, has +been to be always running from a good scheme to a better. In the +meantime life passes away and nothing is completed.' He entreated +Bentham to return, and his entreaties were seconded by Trail, who +pointed out various schemes of reform, especially of the poor-laws, in +which Bentham might be useful. Wilson had mentioned already another +inducement to publication. 'There is,' he says, on 24th September +1786, 'a Mr. Paley, a parson and archdeacon of Carlisle, who has +written a book called <i>Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy</i>, +in quarto, and it has gone through two editions with prodigious +applause.' He fears that Bentham will be charged with stealing from +Paley, and exhorts him to come home and 'establish a great literary +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +reputation in your own language, and in this country which you +despise.'<a name="FNanchor_255_255" id="FNanchor_255_255"></a><a href="#Footnote_255_255" class="fnanchor">[255]</a> Bentham at last started homewards. He travelled through +Poland, Germany, and Holland, and reached London at the beginning of +February 1788. He settled at a little farmhouse at Hendon, bought a +'superb harpsichord,' resumed his occupations, and saw a small circle +of friends. Wilson urged him to publish his <i>Introduction</i> without +waiting to complete the vast scheme to which it was to be a prologue. +Copies of the printed book were already abroad, and there was a danger +of plagiarism. Thus urged, Bentham at last yielded, and the +<i>Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation</i> appeared in +1789. The preface apologised for imperfections due to the plan of his +work. The book, he explained, laid down the principles of all his +future labours, and was to stand to him in the relation of a treatise +upon pure mathematics to a treatise upon the applied sciences. He +indicated ten separate departments of legislation, each of which would +require a treatise in order to the complete execution of his scheme.</p> + +<p>The book gives the essence of Bentham's theories, and is the one large +treatise published by himself. The other works were only brought to +birth by the help of disciples. Dumont, in the discourse prefixed to +the <i>Traités</i>, explains the reason. Bentham, he says, would suspend a +whole work and begin a new one because a single proposition struck him +as doubtful. A problem of finance would send him to a study of +Political Economy in general. A question of procedure would +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +make him +pause until he had investigated the whole subject of judicial +organisation. While at work, he felt only the pleasure of composition. +When his materials required form and finish, he felt only the fatigue. +Disgust succeeded to charm; and he could scarcely be induced to +interrupt his labours upon fresh matter in order to give to his +interpreter the explanations necessary for the elucidation of his +previous writings. He was without the literary vanity or the desire +for completion which may prompt to premature publication, but may at +least prevent the absolute waste of what has been already achieved. +His method of writing was characteristic. He began by forming a +complete logical scheme for the treatment of any subject, dividing and +subdividing so as to secure an exhaustive classification of the whole +matter of discussion. Then taking up any subdivision, he wrote his +remarks upon sheets, which were put aside after being marked with +references indicating their place in the final treatise. He never +turned to these again. In time he would exhaust the whole subject, and +it would then be the duty of his disciples simply to put together the +bricks according to the indications placed upon each in order to +construct the whole edifice.<a name="FNanchor_256_256" id="FNanchor_256_256"></a><a href="#Footnote_256_256" class="fnanchor">[256]</a> As, however, the plan would +frequently undergo a change, and as each fragment had been written +without reference to the others, the task of ultimate combination and +adaptation of the ultimate atoms was often very perplexing. Bentham, +as we shall see, formed disciples ardent enough to put together these +scattered documents as the disciples of Mahomet put together the +Koran. Bentham's revelation was possibly less influential than +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +Mahomet's; but the logical framework was far more coherent.</p> + +<p>Bentham's mind was for the present distracted. He had naturally +returned full of information about Russia. The English ministry were +involved in various negotiations with Russia, Sweden, and Denmark, the +purpose of which was to thwart the designs of Russia in the East. +Bentham wrote three letters to the <i>Public Advertiser</i>, signed +Anti-Machiavel,<a name="FNanchor_257_257" id="FNanchor_257_257"></a><a href="#Footnote_257_257" class="fnanchor">[257]</a> protesting against the warlike policy. Bentham +himself believed that the effect was decisive, and that the 'war was +given up' in consequence of his arguments. Historians<a name="FNanchor_258_258" id="FNanchor_258_258"></a><a href="#Footnote_258_258" class="fnanchor">[258]</a> scarcely +sanction this belief, which is only worth notice because it led to +another belief, oddly characteristic of Bentham. A letter signed +'Partizan' in the <i>Public Advertiser</i> replied to his first two +letters. Who was 'Partizan'? Lord Lansdowne amused himself by +informing Bentham that he was no less a personage than George <small>III.</small> +Bentham, with even more than his usual simplicity, accepted this hoax +as a serious statement. He derived no little comfort from the thought; +for to the antipathy thus engendered in the 'best of kings' he +attributed the subsequent failure of his Panopticon scheme.<a name="FNanchor_259_259" id="FNanchor_259_259"></a><a href="#Footnote_259_259" class="fnanchor">[259]</a></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_214_214" id="Footnote_214_214"></a><a href="#FNanchor_214_214"><span class="label">[214]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 66.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_215_215" id="Footnote_215_215"></a><a href="#FNanchor_215_215"><span class="label">[215]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 95.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_216_216" id="Footnote_216_216"></a><a href="#FNanchor_216_216"><span class="label">[216]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 54.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_217_217" id="Footnote_217_217"></a><a href="#FNanchor_217_217"><span class="label">[217]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 268 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_218_218" id="Footnote_218_218"></a><a href="#FNanchor_218_218"><span class="label">[218]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 121.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_219_219" id="Footnote_219_219"></a><a href="#FNanchor_219_219"><span class="label">[219]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 227.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_220_220" id="Footnote_220_220"></a><a href="#FNanchor_220_220"><span class="label">[220]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 79, 142. See also <i>Deontology</i>, i. 298-302, +where Bentham speaks of discovering the phrase in Priestley's <i>Essay +on Government</i> in 1768. Priestley says (p. 17) that 'the good and +happiness of the members, that is of the majority of the members, of +any state is the great standard by which everything relating to that +state must be finally determined.' So Le Mercier de la Rivière says, +in 1767, that the ultimate end of society is <i>assurer le plus grand +bonheur possible à la plus grande population possible</i> (Daire's +<i>Économistes</i>, p. 470). Hutcheson's <i>Enquiry concerning Moral Good and +Evil</i>, 1725, see iii. § 8, says 'that action is best which secures the +greatest happiness of the greatest number.' Beccaria, in the preface +to his essay, speaks of <i>la massima felicità divisa nel maggior +numero</i>. J. S. Mill says that he found the word 'Utilitarian' in +Galt's <i>Annals of the Parish</i>, and gave the name to the society +founded by him in 1822-1823 (<i>Autobiography</i>, p. 79). The word had +been used by Bentham himself in 1781, and he suggested it to Dumont in +1802 as the proper name of the party, instead of 'Benthamite' +(<i>Works</i>, x. 92, 390). He afterwards thought it a bad name, because it +gave a 'vague idea' (<i>Works</i>, x. 582), and substituted 'greatest +happiness principle' for 'principle of utility' (<i>Works</i>, i. 'Morals +and Legislation').</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_221_221" id="Footnote_221_221"></a><a href="#FNanchor_221_221"><span class="label">[221]</span></a> A letter in the Additional <small>MSS.</small> 33, 537, shows that +Bentham sent his 'Fragment' and his 'Hard Labour' pamphlet to +d'Alembert in 1778, apparently introducing himself for the first time. +Cf. <i>Works</i>, x. 87-88, 193-94.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_222_222" id="Footnote_222_222"></a><a href="#FNanchor_222_222"><span class="label">[222]</span></a> The translation of 1774. See Lowndes' <i>Manual</i> under +Voltaire, <i>Works</i>, x. 83 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_223_223" id="Footnote_223_223"></a><a href="#FNanchor_223_223"><span class="label">[223]</span></a> <i>Review of the Acts of the Thirteenth Parliament, etc.</i> +(1775).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_224_224" id="Footnote_224_224"></a><a href="#FNanchor_224_224"><span class="label">[224]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 57, 63.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_225_225" id="Footnote_225_225"></a><a href="#FNanchor_225_225"><span class="label">[225]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 133-35.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_226_226" id="Footnote_226_226"></a><a href="#FNanchor_226_226"><span class="label">[226]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 84.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_227_227" id="Footnote_227_227"></a><a href="#FNanchor_227_227"><span class="label">[227]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 77.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_228_228" id="Footnote_228_228"></a><a href="#FNanchor_228_228"><span class="label">[228]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 82.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_229_229" id="Footnote_229_229"></a><a href="#FNanchor_229_229"><span class="label">[229]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 77-82. Blackstone took no notice of the +work, except by some allusions in the preface to his next edition. +Bentham criticised Blackstone respectfully in the pamphlet upon the +Hard Labour Bill (1778). Blackstone sent a courteous but 'frigidly +cautious' reply to the author.—<i>Works</i>, i. 255.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_230_230" id="Footnote_230_230"></a><a href="#FNanchor_230_230"><span class="label">[230]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 115-17, 186</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_231_231" id="Footnote_231_231"></a><a href="#FNanchor_231_231"><span class="label">[231]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 100.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_232_232" id="Footnote_232_232"></a><a href="#FNanchor_232_232"><span class="label">[232]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 122.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_233_233" id="Footnote_233_233"></a><a href="#FNanchor_233_233"><span class="label">[233]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 118; i. 253.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_234_234" id="Footnote_234_234"></a><a href="#FNanchor_234_234"><span class="label">[234]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 97; i. 252.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_235_235" id="Footnote_235_235"></a><a href="#FNanchor_235_235"><span class="label">[235]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 219, 265.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_236_236" id="Footnote_236_236"></a><a href="#FNanchor_236_236"><span class="label">[236]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 118, 419, 558.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_237_237" id="Footnote_237_237"></a><a href="#FNanchor_237_237"><span class="label">[237]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 253.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_238_238" id="Footnote_238_238"></a><a href="#FNanchor_238_238"><span class="label">[238]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 116, 182.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_239_239" id="Footnote_239_239"></a><a href="#FNanchor_239_239"><span class="label">[239]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 228-42.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_240_240" id="Footnote_240_240"></a><a href="#FNanchor_240_240"><span class="label">[240]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 186.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_241_241" id="Footnote_241_241"></a><a href="#FNanchor_241_241"><span class="label">[241]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, v. 370.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_242_242" id="Footnote_242_242"></a><a href="#FNanchor_242_242"><span class="label">[242]</span></a> <i>Souvenirs sur Mirabeau</i> (preface).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_243_243" id="Footnote_243_243"></a><a href="#FNanchor_243_243"><span class="label">[243]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 185.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_244_244" id="Footnote_244_244"></a><a href="#FNanchor_244_244"><span class="label">[244]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 185. Colls (p. 41) tells the same story.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_245_245" id="Footnote_245_245"></a><a href="#FNanchor_245_245"><span class="label">[245]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Fragment, etc.'), i. 245, and <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 463 +<i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_246_246" id="Footnote_246_246"></a><a href="#FNanchor_246_246"><span class="label">[246]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 246, 250, 251.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_247_247" id="Footnote_247_247"></a><a href="#FNanchor_247_247"><span class="label">[247]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 252.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_248_248" id="Footnote_248_248"></a><a href="#FNanchor_248_248"><span class="label">[248]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 185.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_249_249" id="Footnote_249_249"></a><a href="#FNanchor_249_249"><span class="label">[249]</span></a> Bentham says (<i>Works</i>, i. 240) that he was a member of +a club of which Johnson was the despot. The only club possible seems +to be the Essex Street Club, of which Daines Barrington was a member. +If so, it was in 1783, though Bentham seems to imply an earlier date.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_250_250" id="Footnote_250_250"></a><a href="#FNanchor_250_250"><span class="label">[250]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 77.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_251_251" id="Footnote_251_251"></a><a href="#FNanchor_251_251"><span class="label">[251]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 147.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_252_252" id="Footnote_252_252"></a><a href="#FNanchor_252_252"><span class="label">[252]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 176.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_253_253" id="Footnote_253_253"></a><a href="#FNanchor_253_253"><span class="label">[253]</span></a> Reid's <i>Works</i> (Hamilton), p. 73.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_254_254" id="Footnote_254_254"></a><a href="#FNanchor_254_254"><span class="label">[254]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 171.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_255_255" id="Footnote_255_255"></a><a href="#FNanchor_255_255"><span class="label">[255]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 163-64. Cf. <i>Ibid.</i> x. 195, where Wilson is +often 'tempted to think'—erroneously, of course—that Paley must have +known something of Bentham's work. Paley's chief source was Abraham +Tucker.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_256_256" id="Footnote_256_256"></a><a href="#FNanchor_256_256"><span class="label">[256]</span></a> See J. H. Burton in <i>Works</i>, i. 11.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_257_257" id="Footnote_257_257"></a><a href="#FNanchor_257_257"><span class="label">[257]</span></a> Given in <i>Works</i>, x. 201-12.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_258_258" id="Footnote_258_258"></a><a href="#FNanchor_258_258"><span class="label">[258]</span></a> See Lecky's <i>Eighteenth Century</i>, x. 210-97, for an +account of these transactions.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_259_259" id="Footnote_259_259"></a><a href="#FNanchor_259_259"><span class="label">[259]</span></a> Bowring tells this gravely, and declares that George +<small>III.</small> also wrote letters to the <i>Gazette de Leyde</i>. George <small>III.</small> +certainly contributed some letters to Arthur Young's <i>Annals of +Agriculture</i>, and is one of the suggested authors of Junius.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">III. <a name="V_III" id="V_III"></a>THE PANOPTICON</p> + +<p>The crash of the French revolution was now to change the whole course +of European politics, and to bring philosophical jurists face to face +with a long series of profoundly important problems. Bentham's +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +attitude during the early stages of the revolution and the first war +period is significant, and may help to elucidate some characteristics +of the Utilitarian movement. Revolutions are the work of passion: the +product of a social and political condition in which the masses are +permeated with discontent, because the social organs have ceased to +discharge their functions. They are not ascribable to the purely +intellectual movement alone, though it is no doubt an essential +factor. The revolution came in any case because the social order was +out of joint, not simply because Voltaire or Rousseau or Diderot had +preached destructive doctrines. The doctrines of the 'rights of man' +are obvious enough to have presented themselves to many minds at many +periods. The doctrines became destructive because the old traditions +were shaken, and the traditions were shaken because the state of +things to which they corresponded had become intolerable. The French +revolution meant (among other things) that in the mind of the French +peasant there had accumulated a vast deposit of bitter enmity against +the noble who had become a mere parasite upon the labouring +population, retaining, as Arthur Young said, privileges for himself, +and leaving poverty to the lower classes. The peasant had not read +Rousseau; he had read nothing. But when his discontent began to affect +the educated classes, men who had read Rousseau found in his works the +dialect most fitted to express the growing indignation. Rousseau's +genius had devised the appropriate formula; for Rousseau's sensibility +had made him prescient of the rising storm. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +What might be a mere +commonplace for speculative students suddenly became the warcry in a +social upheaval. In England, as I have tried to show, there was no +such popular sentiment behind the political theories: and reformers +were content with measures which required no appeal to absolute rights +and general principles. Bentham was no Rousseau; and the last of men +to raise a warcry. Passion and sentimentalism were to him a nuisance. +His theories were neither suggested nor modified by the revolution. He +looked on with curious calmness, as though the revolutionary +disturbances were rather a transitory interruption to the progress of +reform than indicative of a general convulsion. His own position was +isolated. He had no strong reforming party behind him. The Whigs, his +main friends, were powerless, discredited, and themselves really +afraid to support any vigorous policy. They had in the main to content +themselves with criticising the warlike policy which, for the time, +represented the main current of national sentiment. Bentham shared +many of their sympathies. He hated the abstract 'rights of man' theory +as heartily as Burke. It was to him a 'hodge-podge' of fallacies. On +the other hand, he was absolutely indifferent to the apotheosis of the +British Constitution constructed by Burke's imagination. He cared +nothing for history in general, or regarded it, from a Voltairean +point of view, as a record of the follies and crimes of mankind. He +wished to deal with political, and especially with legal, questions in +a scientific spirit—but 'scientific' would mean not pure mathematics +but pure empiricism. He was quite as far from Paine's abstract methods +as from Burke's romantic methods. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +Both of them, according to him, +were sophists: though one might prefer logical and the other +sentimental sophistries. Dumont, when he published (1802) his versions +of Bentham, insisted upon this point. Nothing, he says, was more +opposed to the trenchant dogmatism of the abstract theorists about +'rights of man' and 'equality' than Bentham's thoroughly scientific +procedure (<i>Discours Préliminaire</i>). Bentham's intellectual position +in this respect will require further consideration hereafter. All his +prejudices and sympathies were those of the middle class from which he +sprang. He was no democrat: he had no particular objection to the +nobility, though he preferred Shelburne to the king's friends or to +the Whig aristocracy. The reforms which he advocated were such as +might be adopted by any enlightened legislator, not only by Shelburne +but even by Blackstone. He had only, he thought, to convert a few +members of parliament to gain the acceptance for a rational criminal +code. It had hardly even occurred to him that there was anything wrong +in the general political order, though he was beginning to find out +that it was not so modifiable as he could have wished by the new ideas +which he propounded.</p> + +<p>Bentham's activity during the first revolutionary war corresponded to +this position. The revolution, whatever else it might do, obviously +gave a chance to amateur legislators. There was any amount of work to +be done in the way of codifying and reforming legislative systems. The +deviser of Utopias had such an opening as had never occurred in the +world's history. Lord Lansdowne, on the 3rd January 1789, expresses +his pleasure at hearing that Bentham intends to 'take up the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +cause of +the people in France.'<a name="FNanchor_260_260" id="FNanchor_260_260"></a><a href="#Footnote_260_260" class="fnanchor">[260]</a> Bentham, as we have seen, was already +known to some of the French leaders, and he was now taking time by the +forelock. He sent to the abbé Morellet a part of his treatise on +Political Tactics, hoping to have it finished by the time of the +meeting of the States General.<a name="FNanchor_261_261" id="FNanchor_261_261"></a><a href="#Footnote_261_261" class="fnanchor">[261]</a> This treatise, civilly accepted by +Morellet, and approved with some qualifications by Bentham's +counsellors, Romilly, Wilson, and Trail, was an elaborate account of +the organisation and procedure of a legislative assembly, founded +chiefly on the practice of the House of Commons. It was published in +1816 by Dumont in company with <i>Anarchic Fallacies</i>, a vigorous +exposure of the <i>Declaration of Rights</i>, which Bentham had judiciously +kept on his shelf. Had the French known of it, he remarks afterwards, +they would have been little disposed to welcome him.<a name="FNanchor_262_262" id="FNanchor_262_262"></a><a href="#Footnote_262_262" class="fnanchor">[262]</a> An elaborate +scheme for the organisation of the French judiciary was suggested by a +report to the National Assembly, and published in March 1790. In 1791, +Bentham offered to go to France himself in order to establish a prison +on his new scheme (to be mentioned directly), and become 'gratuitously +the gaoler thereof.'<a name="FNanchor_263_263" id="FNanchor_263_263"></a><a href="#Footnote_263_263" class="fnanchor">[263]</a> The Assembly acknowledged his 'ardent love +of humanity,' and ordered an extract from his scheme to be printed for +their instruction. The tactics actually adopted by the French +revolutionists for managing assemblies and their methods of executing +justice form a queer commentary on the philosopher who, like +Voltaire's Mamres in the <i>White Bull</i>, continued to 'meditate +profoundly' in placid disregard of facts. He was in fact proposing +that the lava boiling up in a volcanic +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +eruption should arrange itself +entirely according to his architectural designs. But his proposal to +become a gaoler during the revolution reaches the pathetic by its +amiable innocence. On 26th August 1792, Bentham was one of the men +upon whom the expiring Assembly, anxious to show its desire of +universal fraternity, conferred the title of citizen. With Bentham +were joined Priestley, Paine, Wilberforce, Clarkson, Washington, and +others. The September massacres followed. On 18th October the honour +was communicated to Bentham. He replied in a polite letter, pointing +out that he was a royalist in London for the same reason which would +make him a republican in France. He ended by a calm argument against +the proscription of refugees.<a name="FNanchor_264_264" id="FNanchor_264_264"></a><a href="#Footnote_264_264" class="fnanchor">[264]</a> The Convention, if it read the +letter, and had any sense of humour, must have been amused. The war +and the Reign of Terror followed. Bentham turned the occasion to +account by writing a pamphlet (not then published) exhorting the +French to 'emancipate their colonies.' Colonies were an aimless +burthen, and to get rid of them would do more than conquest to relieve +their finances. British fleets and the insurrection of St. Domingo +were emancipating by very different methods.</p> + +<p>Bentham was, of course, disgusted by the divergence of his clients +from the lines chalked out by proper respect for law and order. On +31st October 1793 he writes to a friend, expressing his wish that +Jacobinism could be extirpated; no price could be too heavy to pay for +such a result: but he doubts whether war or peace would be the best +means to the end, and protests against the policy of appropriating +useless and expensive colonies +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +instead of 'driving at the heart of +the monster.'<a name="FNanchor_265_265" id="FNanchor_265_265"></a><a href="#Footnote_265_265" class="fnanchor">[265]</a> Never was an adviser more at cross-purposes with +the advised. It would be impossible to draw a more striking portrait +of the abstract reasoner, whose calculations as to human motives omit +all reference to passion, and who fancied that all prejudice can be +dispelled by a few bits of logic.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile a variety of suggestions more or less important and +connected with passing events were seething in his fertile brain. He +wrote one of his most stinging pamphlets, '<i>Truth versus Ashhurst</i>' in +December 1792, directed against a judge who, in the panic suggested by +the September massacres, had eulogised the English laws. Bentham's +aversion to Jacobin measures by no means softened his antipathy to +English superstitions; and his attack was so sharp that Romilly +advised and obtained its suppression for the time. Projects as to +war-taxes suggested a couple of interesting pamphlets written in 1793, +and published in 1795. In connection with this, schemes suggested +themselves to him for improved systems of patents, for limited +liability companies and other plans.<a name="FNanchor_266_266" id="FNanchor_266_266"></a><a href="#Footnote_266_266" class="fnanchor">[266]</a> His great work still +occupied him at intervals. In 1793 he offers to Dundas to employ +himself in drafting Statutes, and remarks incidentally that he could +legislate for Hindostan, should legislation be wanted there, as easily +as for his own parish.<a name="FNanchor_267_267" id="FNanchor_267_267"></a><a href="#Footnote_267_267" class="fnanchor">[267]</a> In 1794, Dumont is begging him to 'conquer +his repugnance' to bestowing a few hints upon his interpreter.<a name="FNanchor_268_268" id="FNanchor_268_268"></a><a href="#Footnote_268_268" class="fnanchor">[268]</a> In +1796, Bentham writes long letters suggesting that he should be sent to +France with Wilberforce, in order to re-establish friendly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +relations.<a name="FNanchor_269_269" id="FNanchor_269_269"></a><a href="#Footnote_269_269" class="fnanchor">[269]</a> In 1798 he is corresponding at great length with +Patrick Colquhoun upon plans for improving the Metropolitan +police.<a name="FNanchor_270_270" id="FNanchor_270_270"></a><a href="#Footnote_270_270" class="fnanchor">[270]</a> In 1801 he says<a name="FNanchor_271_271" id="FNanchor_271_271"></a><a href="#Footnote_271_271" class="fnanchor">[271]</a> that for two years and a half 'he +has thought of scarce anything else' than a plan for interest-bearing +notes, which he carefully elaborated and discussed with Nicholas +Vansittart and Dr. Beeke. In September 1800, however, he had found +time to occupy himself with a proposed <i>frigidarium</i> or ice-house for +the preservation of fish, fruits, and vegetables; and invited Dr. +Roget, a nephew of Romilly, to come to his house and carry out the +necessary experiments.<a name="FNanchor_272_272" id="FNanchor_272_272"></a><a href="#Footnote_272_272" class="fnanchor">[272]</a> In January 1802 he writes to Dumont<a name="FNanchor_273_273" id="FNanchor_273_273"></a><a href="#Footnote_273_273" class="fnanchor">[273]</a> +proposing to send him a trifling specimen of the Panopticon, a set of +hollow fire-irons invented by his brother, which may attract the +attention of Buonaparte and Talleyrand. He proceeds to expound the +merits of Samuel's invention for making wheels by machinery. Dumont +replies, that fire-irons are 'superfluities'—(fire-arms might have +been more to Buonaparte's taste)—and that the Panopticon itself was +coldly received.</p> + +<p>This Panopticon was to be Bentham's masterpiece. It occupied his chief +attention from his return to England until the peace of Amiens. His +brother had returned from Russia in 1791. Their father died 28th March +1792, dividing his property equally between his sons. Jeremy's share +consisted of the estate at Queen's Square Place, Westminster, and of +landed property producing £500 or £600 a year. The father, spite of +the distance between them, had treated his son with substantial +kindness, and had learned to take a pride in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +achievements very unlike +those which he had at first desired.<a name="FNanchor_274_274" id="FNanchor_274_274"></a><a href="#Footnote_274_274" class="fnanchor">[274]</a> Bentham's position, however, +was improved by the father's death. The Westminster estate included +the house in which he lived for the rest of his life. There was a +garden in which he took great delight, though London smoke gradually +destroyed the plants: and in the garden was the small house where +Milton had once lived.<a name="FNanchor_275_275" id="FNanchor_275_275"></a><a href="#Footnote_275_275" class="fnanchor">[275]</a> Here, with the co-operation of his brother +and his increased income, he had all the means necessary for launching +his grand scheme.</p> + +<p>The Panopticon, as defined by its inventor to Brissot, was a 'mill for +grinding rogues honest, and idle men industrious.'<a name="FNanchor_276_276" id="FNanchor_276_276"></a><a href="#Footnote_276_276" class="fnanchor">[276]</a> It was +suggested by a plan designed by his brother in Russia for a large +house to be occupied by workmen, and to be so arranged that they could +be under constant inspection. Bentham was working on the old lines of +philanthropic reform. He had long been interested in the schemes of +prison reform, to which Howard's labours had given the impetus. +Blackstone, with the help of William Eden, afterwards Lord Auckland, +had prepared the 'Hard Labour Bill,' which Bentham had carefully +criticised in 1778. The measure was passed in 1779, and provided for +the management of convicts, who were becoming troublesome, as +transportation to America had ceased to be possible. Howard, whose +relation to Bentham I have already noticed, was appointed as one of +the commissioners to carry out the provisions of the Act. The +commissioners disagreed; Howard resigned; and though at last an +architect (William Blackburn) was appointed who possessed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> Howard's +confidence, and who constructed various prisons in the country, the +scheme was allowed to drop. Bentham now hoped to solve the problem +with his Panopticon. He printed an account of it in 1791. He wrote to +his old antagonist, George <small>III.</small>, describing it, together with another +invention of Samuel's for enabling armies to cross rivers, which might +be more to his Majesty's taste.<a name="FNanchor_277_277" id="FNanchor_277_277"></a><a href="#Footnote_277_277" class="fnanchor">[277]</a> In March 1792 he made a proposal +to the government offering to undertake the charge of a thousand +convicts upon the Panopticon system.<a name="FNanchor_278_278" id="FNanchor_278_278"></a><a href="#Footnote_278_278" class="fnanchor">[278]</a> After delays suspicious in +the eyes of Bentham, but hardly surprising at such a period, an act of +parliament was obtained in 1794 to adopt his schemes. Bentham had +already been making preparations. He says<a name="FNanchor_279_279" id="FNanchor_279_279"></a><a href="#Footnote_279_279" class="fnanchor">[279]</a> (14th September 1794) +that he has already spent £6000, and is spending at the rate of £2000 +a year, while his income was under £600 a year. He obtained, however, +£2000 from the government. He had made models and architectural plans, +in which he was helped by Reveley, already known to him at +Constantinople. This sum, it appears, was required in order to keep +together the men whom he employed. The nature of their employment is +remarkable.<a name="FNanchor_280_280" id="FNanchor_280_280"></a><a href="#Footnote_280_280" class="fnanchor">[280]</a> Samuel, a man of singular mechanical skill, which was +of great use to the navy during the war, had devised machinery for +work in wood and metal. Bentham had joined his brother, and they were +looking out for a steam-engine. It had now occurred to them to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> employ +convicts instead of steam, and thus to combine philanthropy with +business. Difficulties of the usual kind arose as to the procurement +of a suitable site. The site secured under the provisions of the 'Hard +Labour Bill' was for some reason rejected; and Bentham was almost in +despair. It was not until 1799 that he at last acquired for £12,000 an +estate at Millbank, which seemed to be suitable. Meanwhile Bentham had +found another application for his principle. The growth of pauperism +was alarming statesmen. Whitbread proposed in February 1796 to fix a +minimum rate of wages. The wisest thing that government could do, he +said, was to 'offer a liberal premium for the encouragement of large +families.' Pitt proceeded to prepare the abortive Poor-law Bill,<a name="FNanchor_281_281" id="FNanchor_281_281"></a><a href="#Footnote_281_281" class="fnanchor">[281]</a> +upon which Bentham (in February 1797) sent in some very shrewd +criticisms. They were not published, but are said to have 'powerfully +contributed to the abandonment of the measure.'<a name="FNanchor_282_282" id="FNanchor_282_282"></a><a href="#Footnote_282_282" class="fnanchor">[282]</a> They show +Bentham's power of incisive criticism, though they scarcely deal with +the general principle. In the following autumn Bentham contributed to +Arthur Young's <i>Annals of Agriculture</i> upon the same topic. It had +struck him that an application of his Panopticon would give the +required panacea. He worked out details with his usual zeal, and the +scheme attracted notice among the philanthropists of the time. It was +to be a 'succedaneum' to Pitt's proposal. Meanwhile the finance +committee, appointed in 1797, heard evidence from Bentham's friend, +Patrick Colquhoun, upon the Panopticon, and a report recommending +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +it +was proposed by R. Pole Carew, a friend of Samuel Bentham. Although +this report was suppressed, the scheme apparently received an impetus. +The Millbank estate was bought in consequence of these proceedings, +and a sum of only £1000 was wanted to buy out the tenant of one piece +of land. Bentham was constantly in attendance at a public office, +expecting a final warrant for the money. It never came, and, as +Bentham believed, the delay was due to the malice of George <small>III.</small> Had +any other king been on the throne, Panopticon in both 'the prisoner +branch and the pauper branch' would have been set at work.<a name="FNanchor_283_283" id="FNanchor_283_283"></a><a href="#Footnote_283_283" class="fnanchor">[283]</a> Such +are the consequences of newspaper controversies with monarchs! After +this, in any case, the poor Panopticon, as the old lawyers said, +'languishing did live,' and at last 'languishing did die.' Poor +Bentham seems to have struggled vainly for a time. He appealed to +Pitt's friend, Wilberforce; he appealed to his step-brother Abbot; he +wrote to members of parliament, but all was in vain.</p> + +<p>Romilly induced him in 1802 to suppress a statement of his grievances +which could only have rendered ministers implacable.<a name="FNanchor_284_284" id="FNanchor_284_284"></a><a href="#Footnote_284_284" class="fnanchor">[284]</a> But he found +out what would hardly have been a discovery to most people, that +officials can be dilatory and evasive; and certain discoveries about +the treatment of convicts in New South Wales convinced him that they +could even defy the laws and the Constitution when they were beyond +inspection. He published (1803) a <i>Plea for the Constitution</i>, showing +the enormities committed in the colony, 'in breach of Magna Charta, +the Petition of Right, the Habeas Corpus Act, and the Bill of Rights.' +Romilly in vain told him that the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +attorney-general could not +recommend the author of such an effusion to be keeper of a +Panopticon.<a name="FNanchor_285_285" id="FNanchor_285_285"></a><a href="#Footnote_285_285" class="fnanchor">[285]</a> The actual end did not come till 1811. A committee +then reported against the scheme. They noticed one essential and very +characteristic weakness. The whole system turned upon the profit to be +made from the criminals' labour by Bentham and his brother. The +committee observed that, however unimpeachable might be the characters +of the founders, the scheme might lead to abuses in the hands of their +successors. The adoption of this principle of 'farming' had in fact +led to gross abuses both in gaols and in workhouses; but it was, as I +have said, in harmony with the whole 'individualist' theory. The +committee recommended a different plan; and the result was the +foundation of Millbank penitentiary, opened in 1816.<a name="FNanchor_286_286" id="FNanchor_286_286"></a><a href="#Footnote_286_286" class="fnanchor">[286]</a> Bentham +ultimately received £23,000 by way of compensation in 1813.<a name="FNanchor_287_287" id="FNanchor_287_287"></a><a href="#Footnote_287_287" class="fnanchor">[287]</a> The +objections of the committee would now be a commonplace, but Bentham +saw in them another proof of the desire to increase government +patronage. He was well out of the plan. There were probably few men in +England less capable of managing a thousand convicts, in spite of his +theories about 'springs of action.' If anything else had been required +to ensure failure, it would have been association with a sanguine +inventor of brilliant abilities.</p> + +<p>Bentham's agitation had not been altogether fruitless. His plan had +been partly adopted at Edinburgh by one of the Adams,<a name="FNanchor_288_288" id="FNanchor_288_288"></a><a href="#Footnote_288_288" class="fnanchor">[288]</a> and his +work formed an important stage in the development of the penal system.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +Bentham, though he could not see that his failure was a blessing in +disguise, had learned one lesson worth learning. He was ill-treated, +according to impartial observers. 'Never,' says Wilberforce,<a name="FNanchor_289_289" id="FNanchor_289_289"></a><a href="#Footnote_289_289" class="fnanchor">[289]</a> 'was +any one worse used. I have seen the tears run down the cheeks of that +strong-minded man through vexation at the pressing importunity of his +creditors, and the indolence of official underlings when day after day +he was begging at the Treasury for what was indeed a mere matter of +right.' Wilberforce adds that Bentham was 'quite soured,' and +attributes his later opinions to this cause. When the <i>Quarterly +Review</i> long afterwards taunted him as a disappointed man, Bentham +declared himself to be in 'a state of perpetual and unruffled gaiety,' +and the 'mainspring' of the gaiety of his own circle.<a name="FNanchor_290_290" id="FNanchor_290_290"></a><a href="#Footnote_290_290" class="fnanchor">[290]</a> No one, +indeed, could be less 'soured' so far as his habitual temper was +concerned. But Wilberforce's remark contained a serious truth. Bentham +had made a discovery. He had vowed war in his youth against the 'demon +of chicane.' He had now learned that the name of the demon was +'Legion.' To cast him out, it would be necessary to cast out the demon +of officialism; and we shall see what this bit of knowledge presently +implied.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_260_260" id="Footnote_260_260"></a><a href="#FNanchor_260_260"><span class="label">[260]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 195.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_261_261" id="Footnote_261_261"></a><a href="#FNanchor_261_261"><span class="label">[261]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 198-99.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_262_262" id="Footnote_262_262"></a><a href="#FNanchor_262_262"><span class="label">[262]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 317.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_263_263" id="Footnote_263_263"></a><a href="#FNanchor_263_263"><span class="label">[263]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 270.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_264_264" id="Footnote_264_264"></a><a href="#FNanchor_264_264"><span class="label">[264]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 282.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_265_265" id="Footnote_265_265"></a><a href="#FNanchor_265_265"><span class="label">[265]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 296.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_266_266" id="Footnote_266_266"></a><a href="#FNanchor_266_266"><span class="label">[266]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 304.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_267_267" id="Footnote_267_267"></a><a href="#FNanchor_267_267"><span class="label">[267]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 292.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_268_268" id="Footnote_268_268"></a><a href="#FNanchor_268_268"><span class="label">[268]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 300.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_269_269" id="Footnote_269_269"></a><a href="#FNanchor_269_269"><span class="label">[269]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 315.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_270_270" id="Footnote_270_270"></a><a href="#FNanchor_270_270"><span class="label">[270]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 329.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_271_271" id="Footnote_271_271"></a><a href="#FNanchor_271_271"><span class="label">[271]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 366.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_272_272" id="Footnote_272_272"></a><a href="#FNanchor_272_272"><span class="label">[272]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 346.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_273_273" id="Footnote_273_273"></a><a href="#FNanchor_273_273"><span class="label">[273]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 381.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_274_274" id="Footnote_274_274"></a><a href="#FNanchor_274_274"><span class="label">[274]</span></a> See his letter to Lansdowne, sending a portrait to +Jeremy.—<i>Works</i>, x. 224.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_275_275" id="Footnote_275_275"></a><a href="#FNanchor_275_275"><span class="label">[275]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, xi. 81.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_276_276" id="Footnote_276_276"></a><a href="#FNanchor_276_276"><span class="label">[276]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 226.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_277_277" id="Footnote_277_277"></a><a href="#FNanchor_277_277"><span class="label">[277]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 260. It is doubtful whether the letter was +sent.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_278_278" id="Footnote_278_278"></a><a href="#FNanchor_278_278"><span class="label">[278]</span></a> The Panopticon story is confusedly told in Bowring's +life. The <i>Panopticon Correspondence</i>, in the eleventh volume, gives +fragments from a 'history of the war between Jeremy Bentham and George +<small>III.</small>,' written by Bentham in 1830-31, and selections from a voluminous +correspondence.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_279_279" id="Footnote_279_279"></a><a href="#FNanchor_279_279"><span class="label">[279]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 301.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_280_280" id="Footnote_280_280"></a><a href="#FNanchor_280_280"><span class="label">[280]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 167.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_281_281" id="Footnote_281_281"></a><a href="#FNanchor_281_281"><span class="label">[281]</span></a> The plan, according to Bentham (<i>Works</i>, xi. 102), was +suggested by Ruggles, author of the work upon the poor-laws, first +printed in Young's <i>Annals</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_282_282" id="Footnote_282_282"></a><a href="#FNanchor_282_282"><span class="label">[282]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, viii. 440.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_283_283" id="Footnote_283_283"></a><a href="#FNanchor_283_283"><span class="label">[283]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, xi. 102-3.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_284_284" id="Footnote_284_284"></a><a href="#FNanchor_284_284"><span class="label">[284]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 400.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_285_285" id="Footnote_285_285"></a><a href="#FNanchor_285_285"><span class="label">[285]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, xi. 144.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_286_286" id="Footnote_286_286"></a><a href="#FNanchor_286_286"><span class="label">[286]</span></a> For its later history see <i>Memorials of Millbank</i>, by +Arthur Griffiths. 2 vols., 1875.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_287_287" id="Footnote_287_287"></a><a href="#FNanchor_287_287"><span class="label">[287]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, xi. 106.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_288_288" id="Footnote_288_288"></a><a href="#FNanchor_288_288"><span class="label">[288]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 294.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_289_289" id="Footnote_289_289"></a><a href="#FNanchor_289_289"><span class="label">[289]</span></a> Wilberforce's <i>Life</i>, ii. 71.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_290_290" id="Footnote_290_290"></a><a href="#FNanchor_290_290"><span class="label">[290]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 541.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">IV. <a name="V_IV" id="V_IV"></a>THE UTILITARIAN PROPAGANDA</p> + +<p>Bentham in 1802 had reached the respectable age of fifty-four. He had +published his first work twenty-six years, and his most elaborate +treatise thirteen years, previously. He had been brought into contact +with many of the eminent politicians and philanthropists of the day. +Lansdowne had been a friendly patron: his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +advice had been treated +with respect by Pitt, Dundas, and even by Blackstone; he was on +friendly terms with Colquhoun, Sir F. Eden, Arthur Young, Wilberforce, +and others interested in philanthropic movements, and his name at +least was known to some French politicians. But his reputation was +still obscure; and his connections did not develop into intimacies. He +lived as a recluse and avoided society. His introduction to great +people at Bowood had apparently rather increased than softened his +shyness. The little circle of intimates, Romilly and Wilson and his +own brother, must have satisfied his needs for social intercourse. It +required an elaborate negotiation to bring about a meeting between him +and Dr. Parr, the great Whig prophet, although they had been +previously acquainted, and Parr was, as Romilly said by way of +introduction, a profound admirer and universal panegyrist.<a name="FNanchor_291_291" id="FNanchor_291_291"></a><a href="#Footnote_291_291" class="fnanchor">[291]</a> He +refused to be introduced by Parr to Fox, because he had 'nothing +particular to say' to the statesman, and considered that to be 'always +a sufficient reason for declining acquaintance.'<a name="FNanchor_292_292" id="FNanchor_292_292"></a><a href="#Footnote_292_292" class="fnanchor">[292]</a></p> + +<p>But, at last, Bentham's fame was to take a start. Bentham, I said, had +long before found himself. Dumont had now found Bentham. After long +and tedious labours and multiplied communications between the master +and the disciple, Dumont in the spring of 1802 brought out his +<i>Traités de Législation de M. Jérémie Bentham</i>. The book was partly a +translation from Bentham's published and unpublished works,<a name="FNanchor_293_293" id="FNanchor_293_293"></a><a href="#Footnote_293_293" class="fnanchor">[293]</a> and +partly a statement of the pith of the new doctrine in Dumont's own +language. It had the great merit of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +putting Bentham's meaning +vigorously and compactly, and free from many of the digressions, +minute discussions of minor points and arguments requiring a special +knowledge of English law, which had impeded the popularity of +Bentham's previous works.</p> + +<p>The Jacobin controversies were passing into the background: and +Bentham began to attain a hearing as a reformer upon different lines. +In 1803 Dumont visited St. Petersburg, and sent home glowing reports +of Bentham's rising fame. As many copies of the <i>Traités</i> had been +sold there as in London. Codes were wanted; laws were being digested; +and Bentham's work would supply the principles and the classification. +A magnificent translation was ordered, and Russian officials wrote +glowing letters in which Bentham was placed in a line with Bacon, +Newton, and Adam Smith—each the founder of a new science.<a name="FNanchor_294_294" id="FNanchor_294_294"></a><a href="#Footnote_294_294" class="fnanchor">[294]</a> At +home the new book was one of the objects of what Dumont calls the +'scandalous irreverence' of the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>.<a name="FNanchor_295_295" id="FNanchor_295_295"></a><a href="#Footnote_295_295" class="fnanchor">[295]</a> This refers +to a review of the <i>Traités</i> in the <i>Edinburgh Review</i> of April 1804. +Although patronising in tone, and ridiculing some of Bentham's +doctrines as commonplace and condemning others as criminal, it paid +some high compliments to his ability. The irreverence meant at least +that Bentham had become one of the persons worth talking about, and +that he was henceforth to influence the rising generation. In January +1807 the <i>Edinburgh</i> itself (probably Jeffrey) suggested that Bentham +should be employed in a proposed reform of the Scottish judicial +system. His old friend, Lansdowne, died on 7th May 1805, and in one of +his last letters expresses a hope that Bentham's principles +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> are at +last beginning to spread.<a name="FNanchor_296_296" id="FNanchor_296_296"></a><a href="#Footnote_296_296" class="fnanchor">[296]</a> The hope was fulfilled.</p> + +<p>During the eighteenth century Benthamism had gone through its period +of incubation. It was now to become an active agency, to gather +proselytes, and to have a marked influence not only upon legislative +but upon political movements. The immediate effect upon Bentham of the +decline of the Panopticon, and his consequent emancipation from +immediately practical work, was apparently his return to his more +legitimate employment of speculative labour. He sent to Dumont at St. +Petersburg<a name="FNanchor_297_297" id="FNanchor_297_297"></a><a href="#Footnote_297_297" class="fnanchor">[297]</a> part of the treatise upon Political Economy, which had +been naturally suggested by his later work: and he applied himself to +the Scottish judiciary question, to which many of his speculations had +a close application. He published a work upon this subject in 1808. To +the period between 1802 and 1812 belongs also the book, or rather the +collection of papers, afterwards transformed into the book, upon +Evidence, which is one of his most valuable performances.</p> + +<p>A letter, dated 1st November 1810, gives a characteristic account of +his position. He refers to hopes of the acceptance of some of his +principles in South America. In Spain Spaniards are prepared to +receive his laws 'as oracles.' 'Now at length, when I am just ready to +drop into the grave' (he had still twenty years of energetic work +before him), 'my fame has spread itself all over the civilised world.' +Dumont's publication of 1802 is considered to have superseded all +previous writings on legislation. In Germany and France codes have +been prepared by authorised lawyers, who have 'sought +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> to do +themselves credit by references to that work.'<a name="FNanchor_298_298" id="FNanchor_298_298"></a><a href="#Footnote_298_298" class="fnanchor">[298]</a> It has been +translated into Russian. Even in England he is often mentioned in +books and in parliament. 'Meantime I am here scribbling on in my +hermitage, never seeing anybody but for some special reason, always +bearing relation to the service of mankind.'<a name="FNanchor_299_299" id="FNanchor_299_299"></a><a href="#Footnote_299_299" class="fnanchor">[299]</a> Making all due +allowance for the deceptive views of the outer world which haunt every +'hermitage,' it remains true that Bentham's fame was emerging from +obscurity.</p> + +<p>The end of this period, moreover, was bringing him into closer contact +with English political life. Bentham, as we have seen, rejected the +whole Jacobin doctrine of abstract rights. So long as English politics +meant either the acceptance of a theory which, for whatever reason, +gathered round it no solid body of support, or, on the other hand, the +acceptance of an obstructive and purely conservative principle, to +which all reform was radically opposed, Bentham was necessarily in an +isolated position. He had 'nothing particular to say' to Fox. He was +neither a Tory nor a Jacobin, and cared little for the paralysed +Whigs. He allied himself therefore, so far as he was allied with any +one, with the philanthropic agitators who stood, like him, outside the +lines of party. The improvement of prisons was not a party question. A +marked change—not always, I think, sufficiently emphasised by +historians—had followed the second war. The party-divisions began to +take the form which was to become more marked as time went on. The old +issues between Jacobin and Anti-Jacobin no longer existed. Napoleon +had become the heir of the revolution. The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> great struggle was +beginning in which England commanded the ocean, while the Continent +was at the feet of the empire. For a time the question was whether +England, too, should be invaded. After Trafalgar invasion became +hopeless. The Napoleonic victories threatened to exclude English trade +from the Continent: while England retorted by declaring that the +Continent should trade with nobody else. Upon one side the war was now +appealing to higher feelings. It was no longer a crusade against +theories, but a struggle for national existence and for the existence +of other nations threatened by a gigantic despotism. Men like +Wordsworth and Coleridge, who could not be Anti-Jacobins, had been +first shocked by the Jacobin treatment of Switzerland, and now threw +themselves enthusiastically into the cause which meant the rescue of +Spain and Germany from foreign oppression. The generous feeling which +had resented the attempt to forbid Frenchmen to break their own bonds, +now resented the attempts of Frenchmen to impose bonds upon others. +The patriotism which prompted to a crusade had seemed unworthy, but +the patriotism which was now allied with the patriotism of Spain and +Germany involved no sacrifice of other sentiment. Many men had +sympathised with the early revolution, not so much from any strong +sentiment of evils at home as from a belief that the French movement +was but a fuller development of the very principles which were +partially embodied in the British Constitution. They had no longer to +choose between sympathising with the enemies of England and +sympathising with the suppressors of the old English liberties.</p> + +<p>But, on the other hand, an opposite change took +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> place. The +disappearance of the Jacobin movement allowed the Radicalism of home +growth to display itself more fully. English Whigs of all shades had +opposed the war with certain misgivings. They had been nervously +anxious not to identify themselves with the sentiments of the +Jacobins. They desired peace with the French, but had to protest that +it was not for love of French principles. That difficulty was removed. +There was no longer a vision—such as Gillray had embodied in his +caricatures—of a guillotine in St. James's Street: or of a Committee +of Public Safety formed by Fox, Paine, and Horne Tooke. Meanwhile Whig +prophecies of the failure of the war were not disproved by its +results. Though the English navy had been victorious, English +interference on the Continent had been futile. Millions of money had +been wasted: and millions were flowing freely. Even now we stand +astonished at the reckless profusion of the financiers of the time. +And what was there to show for it? The French empire, so far from +being destroyed, had been consolidated. If we escaped for the time, +could we permanently resist the whole power of Europe? When the +Peninsular War began we had been fighting, except for the short truce +of Amiens, for sixteen years; and there seemed no reason to believe +that the expedition to Portugal in 1808 would succeed better than +previous efforts. The Walcheren expedition of 1809 was a fresh proof +of our capacity for blundering. Pauperism was still increasing +rapidly, and forebodings of a war with America beginning to trouble +men interested in commerce. The English Opposition had ample texts for +discourses; and a demand for change began to spring up which was no +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +longer a reflection of foreign sympathies. An article in the +<i>Edinburgh</i> of January 1808, which professed to demonstrate the +hopelessness of the Peninsular War, roused the wrath of the Tories. +The <i>Quarterly Review</i> was started by Canning and Scott, and the +<i>Edinburgh</i>, in return, took a more decidedly Whig colour. The +Radicals now showed themselves behind the Whigs. Cobbett, who had been +the most vigorous of John Bull Anti-Jacobins, was driven by his hatred +of the tax-gatherer and the misery of the agricultural labourers into +the opposite camp, and his <i>Register</i> became the most effective organ +of Radicalism. Demands for reform began again to make themselves heard +in parliament. Sir Francis Burdett, who had sat at the feet of Horne +Tooke, and whose return with Cochrane for Westminster in 1807 was the +first parliamentary triumph of the reformers, proposed a motion on +15th June 1809, which was, of course, rejected, but which was the +first of a series, and marked the revival of a serious agitation not +to cease till the triumph of 1832.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Bentham, meditating profoundly upon the Panopticon, had at +last found out that he had begun at the wrong end. His reasoning had +been thrown away upon the huge dead weight of official indifference, +or worse than indifference. Why did they not accept the means for +producing the greatest happiness of the greatest number? Because +statesmen did not desire the end. And why not? To answer that +question, and to show how a government could be constructed which +should desire it, became a main occupation of Bentham's life. +Henceforward, therefore, instead of merely treating of penal codes and +other special reforms, his attention is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> directed to the previous +question of political organisation; while at times he diverges to +illustrate incidentally the abuses of what he ironically calls the +'matchless constitution.' Bentham's principal occupation, in a word, +was to provide political philosophy for radical reformers.<a name="FNanchor_300_300" id="FNanchor_300_300"></a><a href="#Footnote_300_300" class="fnanchor">[300]</a></p> + +<p>Bentham remained as much a recluse as ever. He seldom left Queen's +Square Place except for certain summer outings. In 1807 he took a +house at Barrow Green, near Oxted, in Surrey, lying in a picturesque +hollow at the foot of the chalk hills.<a name="FNanchor_301_301" id="FNanchor_301_301"></a><a href="#Footnote_301_301" class="fnanchor">[301]</a> It was an old-fashioned +house, standing in what had been a park, with a lake and a comfortable +kitchen garden. Bentham pottered about in the grounds and under the +old chestnut-trees, codifying, gardening, and talking to occasional +disciples. He returned thither in following years; but in 1814, +probably in consequence of his compensation for the Panopticon, took a +larger place, Ford Abbey, near Chard in Somersetshire. It was a superb +residence,<a name="FNanchor_302_302" id="FNanchor_302_302"></a><a href="#Footnote_302_302" class="fnanchor">[302]</a> with chapel, cloisters, and corridors, a hall eighty +feet long by thirty high, and a great dining parlour. Parts of the +building dated from the twelfth century or the time of the +Commonwealth, or had undergone alterations attributed to Inigo Jones. +No Squire Western could have cared less for antiquarian associations, +but Bentham made a very fair monk. The place, for which he paid £315 a +year, was congenial. He rode his favourite hobby of gardening, and +took his regular 'ante-jentacular' and 'post-prandial' walks, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +played battledore and shuttlecock in the intervals of codification. He +liked it so well that he would have taken it for life, but for the +loss of £8000 or £10,000 in a Devonshire marble-quarry.<a name="FNanchor_303_303" id="FNanchor_303_303"></a><a href="#Footnote_303_303" class="fnanchor">[303]</a> In 1818 +he gave it up, and thenceforward rarely quitted Queen's Square Place. +His life was varied by few incidents, although his influence upon +public affairs was for the first time becoming important. The busier +journalists and platform orators did not trouble themselves much about +philosophy. But they were in communication with men of a higher stamp, +Romilly, James Mill, and others, who formed Bentham's innermost +council. Thus the movements in the outside world set up an agitation +in Bentham's study; and the recluse was prompted to set himself to +work upon elaborating his own theories in various directions, in order +to supply the necessary substratum of philosophical doctrine. If he +had not the power of gaining the public ear, his oracles were +transmitted through the disciples who also converted some of his raw +materials into coherent books.</p> + +<p>The most important of Bentham's disciples for many years was James +Mill, and I shall have to say what more is necessary in regard to the +active agitation when I speak of Mill himself. For the present, it is +enough to say that Mill first became Bentham's proselyte about 1808. +Mill stayed with Bentham at Barrow Green and at Ford Abbey. Though +some differences caused superficial disturbances of their harmony, no +prophet could have had a more zealous, uncompromising, and vigorous +disciple. Mill's force of character qualified him to become the leader +of the school; but his doctrine was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +always essentially the doctrine +of Bentham, and for the present he was content to be the transmitter +of his master's message to mankind. He was at this period a +contributor to the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>; and in October 1809 he inserted +some praises of Bentham in a review of a book upon legislation by S. +Scipion Bexon. The article was cruelly mangled by Jeffrey, according +to his custom, and Jeffrey's most powerful vassal, Brougham, thought +that the praises which remained were excessive.<a name="FNanchor_304_304" id="FNanchor_304_304"></a><a href="#Footnote_304_304" class="fnanchor">[304]</a></p> + +<p>Obviously the orthodox Whigs were not prepared to swear allegiance to +Bentham. He was drawing into closer connection with the Radicals. In +1809 Cobbett was denouncing the duke of York in consequence of the +Mrs. Clarke scandal. Bentham wrote to him, but anonymously and +cautiously, to obtain documents in regard to a previous libel +case,<a name="FNanchor_305_305" id="FNanchor_305_305"></a><a href="#Footnote_305_305" class="fnanchor">[305]</a> and proceeded to write a pamphlet on the <i>Elements of the +Art of Packing (as applied to Special Juries)</i>, so sharp that his +faithful adviser, Romilly, procured its suppression for the time.<a name="FNanchor_306_306" id="FNanchor_306_306"></a><a href="#Footnote_306_306" class="fnanchor">[306]</a> +Copies, however, were printed and privately given to a few who could +be trusted. Bentham next wrote (1809) a 'Catechism of Parliamentary +Reform,' which he communicated to Cobbett (16th November 1810), with a +request for its publication in the <i>Register</i>.<a name="FNanchor_307_307" id="FNanchor_307_307"></a><a href="#Footnote_307_307" class="fnanchor">[307]</a> Cobbett was at +this time in prison for his attack upon flogging militia men; and, +though still more hostile to government, was bound to be more cautious +in his line of assault. The plan was not published, whether because +too daring or too dull; but it was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> apparently printed. Bentham's +opinion of Cobbett was anything but flattering. Cobbett, he thought in +1812, was a 'vile rascal,' and was afterwards pronounced to be 'filled +with the <i>odium humani generis</i>—his malevolence and lying beyond +everything.'<a name="FNanchor_308_308" id="FNanchor_308_308"></a><a href="#Footnote_308_308" class="fnanchor">[308]</a> Cobbett's radicalism, in fact, was of the type most +hostile to the Utilitarians. John Hunt, in the <i>Examiner</i>, was +'trumpeting' Bentham and Romilly in 1812, and was praised +accordingly.<a name="FNanchor_309_309" id="FNanchor_309_309"></a><a href="#Footnote_309_309" class="fnanchor">[309]</a> Bentham formed an alliance with another leading +Radical. He had made acquaintance by 1811 with Sir F. Burdett, to whom +he then appealed for help in an attack upon the delays of +Chancery.<a name="FNanchor_310_310" id="FNanchor_310_310"></a><a href="#Footnote_310_310" class="fnanchor">[310]</a> Burdett, indeed, appeared to him to be far inferior to +Romilly and Brougham, but he thought that so powerful a 'hero of the +mob' ought to be turned to account in the good cause.<a name="FNanchor_311_311" id="FNanchor_311_311"></a><a href="#Footnote_311_311" class="fnanchor">[311]</a> Burdett +seems to have courted the old philosopher; and a few years later a +closer alliance was brought about. The peace of 1815 was succeeded by +a period of distress, the more acutely felt from the disappointment of +natural hopes of prosperity; and a period of agitation, met by harsh +repression, followed. Applications were made, to Bentham for +permission to use his 'Catechism,' which was ultimately published +(1818) in a cheap form by Wooler, well known as the editor of the +democratic <i>Black Dwarf</i>.<a name="FNanchor_312_312" id="FNanchor_312_312"></a><a href="#Footnote_312_312" class="fnanchor">[312]</a> Burdett applied for a plan of +parliamentary reform. Henry Bickersteth (1783-1851), afterwards Lord +Langdale and Master of the Rolls, at this time a rising barrister of +high character, wrote an appeal to Bentham and Burdett to combine in +setting forth a scheme which, with such authority, must command +general acceptance. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +The result was a series of resolutions moved by +Burdett in the House of Commons on 2nd June 1818,<a name="FNanchor_313_313" id="FNanchor_313_313"></a><a href="#Footnote_313_313" class="fnanchor">[313]</a> demanding +universal suffrage, annual parliaments, and vote by ballot. Bentham +had thus accepted the conclusions reached in a different way by the +believers in that 'hodge-podge' of absurdities, the declaration of the +rights of man. Curiously enough, his assault upon that document +appeared in Dumont's French version in the year 1816, at the very time +when he was accepting its practical conclusions.</p> + +<p>The schemes in which Mill was interested at this time drew Bentham's +attention in other directions. In 1813 the Quaker, William Allen, who +had been a close ally of Mill, induced Bentham to invest money in the +New Lanark establishment. Owen, whose benevolent schemes had been +hampered by his partners, bought them out, the new capital being +partly provided by Allen, Bentham, and others. Bentham afterwards +spoke contemptuously of Owen, who, as he said, 'began in vapour and +ended in smoke,'<a name="FNanchor_314_314" id="FNanchor_314_314"></a><a href="#Footnote_314_314" class="fnanchor">[314]</a> and whose disciples came in after years into +sharp conflict with the Utilitarians. Bentham, however, took pleasure, +it seems, in Owen's benevolent schemes for infant education, and made +money by his investment, for once combining business with philanthropy +successfully.<a name="FNanchor_315_315" id="FNanchor_315_315"></a><a href="#Footnote_315_315" class="fnanchor">[315]</a> Probably he regarded New Lanark as a kind of +Panopticon. Owen had not as yet become a prophet of Socialism.</p> + +<p>Another set of controversies in which Mill and his friends took an +active part, started Bentham in a whole series of speculations. A plan +(which I shall have to mention in connection with Mill), was devised +in 1815 +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +for a 'Chrestomathic school,' which was to give a sound +education of proper Utilitarian tendencies to the upper and middle +classes. Brougham, Mackintosh, Ricardo, William Allen, and Place were +all interested in this undertaking.<a name="FNanchor_316_316" id="FNanchor_316_316"></a><a href="#Footnote_316_316" class="fnanchor">[316]</a> Bentham offered a site at +Queen's Square Place, and though the scheme never came to the birth, +it set him actively at work. He wrote a series of papers during his +first year at Ford Abbey<a name="FNanchor_317_317" id="FNanchor_317_317"></a><a href="#Footnote_317_317" class="fnanchor">[317]</a> upon the theory of education, published +in 1816 as <i>Chrestomathia</i>; and to this was apparently due a further +excursion beyond the limits of jurisprudence. Educational controversy +in that ignorant day was complicated by religious animosity; the +National Society and the 'British and Foreign' Society were fighting +under the banners of Bell and Lancaster, and the war roused excessive +bitterness. Bentham finding the church in his way, had little +difficulty in discovering that the whole ecclesiastical system was +part of the general complex of abuse against which he was warring. He +fell foul of the Catechism; he exposed the abuses of non-residence and +episcopal wealth; he discovered that the Thirty-nine Articles +contained gross fallacies; he went on to make an onslaught upon the +Apostle St Paul, whose evidence as to his conversion was exposed to a +severe cross-examination; and, finally, he wrote, or supplied the +materials for, a remarkable <i>Analysis of Natural Religion</i>, which was +ultimately published by Grote under the pseudonym 'Philip Beauchamp,' +in 1822. This procedure from the particular case of the Catechism in +schools up to the general problem of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> utility of religion in +general, is curiously characteristic of Bentham.</p> + +<p>Bentham's mind was attracted to various other schemes by the disciples +who came to sit at his feet, and professed, with more or less +sincerity, to regard him as a Solon. Foreigners had been resorting to +him from all parts of the world, and gave him hopes of new fields for +codifying. As early as 1808 he had been visited at Barrow Green by the +strange adventurer, politician, lawyer, and filibuster, Aaron Burr, +famous for the duel in which he killed Alexander Hamilton, and now +framing wild schemes for an empire in Mexico. Unscrupulous, restlessly +active and cynical, he was a singular contrast to the placid +philosopher, upon whom his confidences seem to have made an impression +of not unpleasing horror. Burr's conversation suggested to Bentham a +singular scheme for emigrating to Mexico. He applied seriously for +introductions to Lord Holland, who had passed some time in Spain, and +to Holland's friend, Jovellanos (1749-1812), a member of the Spanish +Junta, who had written treatises upon legislation (1785), of which +Bentham approved.<a name="FNanchor_318_318" id="FNanchor_318_318"></a><a href="#Footnote_318_318" class="fnanchor">[318]</a> The dream of Mexico was succeeded by a dream of +Venezuela. General Miranda spent some years in England, and had become +well known to James Mill. He was now about to start upon an +unfortunate expedition to Venezuela, his native country. He took with +him a draft of a law for the freedom of the press, which Bentham drew +up, and he proposed that when his new state was founded, Bentham +should be its legislator.<a name="FNanchor_319_319" id="FNanchor_319_319"></a><a href="#Footnote_319_319" class="fnanchor">[319]</a> Miranda was betrayed to the Spanish +government in 1812, and died (1816) in the hands of the Inquisition. +Bolivar, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +who was also in London in 1810 and took some notice of +Joseph Lancaster, applied in flattering terms to Bentham. Long +afterwards, when dictator of Columbia, he forbade the use of Bentham's +works in the schools, to which, however, the privilege of reading him +was restored, and, let us hope, duly valued, in 1835.<a name="FNanchor_320_320" id="FNanchor_320_320"></a><a href="#Footnote_320_320" class="fnanchor">[320]</a> Santander, +another South American hero, was also a disciple, and encouraged the +study of Bentham. Bentham says in 1830 that forty thousand copies of +Dumont's <i>Traités</i> had been sold in Paris for the South American +trade.<a name="FNanchor_321_321" id="FNanchor_321_321"></a><a href="#Footnote_321_321" class="fnanchor">[321]</a> What share Bentham may have had in modifying South +American ideas is unknown to me. In the United States he had many +disciples of a more creditable kind than Burr. He appealed in 1811 to +Madison, then President, for permission to construct a 'Pannomion' or +complete body of law, for the use of the United States; and urged his +claims both upon Madison and the Governor of Pennsylvania in 1817, +when peace had been restored. He had many conversations upon this +project with John Quincy Adams, who was then American minister in +England.<a name="FNanchor_322_322" id="FNanchor_322_322"></a><a href="#Footnote_322_322" class="fnanchor">[322]</a> This, of course, came to nothing, but an eminent +American disciple, Edward Livingston (1764-1836), between 1820 and +1830 prepared codes for the State of Louisiana, and warmly +acknowledged his obligations to Bentham.<a name="FNanchor_323_323" id="FNanchor_323_323"></a><a href="#Footnote_323_323" class="fnanchor">[323]</a> In 1830 Bentham also +acknowledges a notice of his labours, probably resulting from this, +which had been made in one of General Jackson's presidential +messages.<a name="FNanchor_324_324" id="FNanchor_324_324"></a><a href="#Footnote_324_324" class="fnanchor">[324]</a> In his later years the United States became his ideal, +and he never tired of comparing its cheap and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +honest enactment with +the corruption and extravagance at home.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_291_291" id="Footnote_291_291"></a><a href="#FNanchor_291_291"><span class="label">[291]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 403.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_292_292" id="Footnote_292_292"></a><a href="#FNanchor_292_292"><span class="label">[292]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 62.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_293_293" id="Footnote_293_293"></a><a href="#FNanchor_293_293"><span class="label">[293]</span></a> Bentham had himself written some of his papers in +French.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_294_294" id="Footnote_294_294"></a><a href="#FNanchor_294_294"><span class="label">[294]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 407, 410, 413, 419.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_295_295" id="Footnote_295_295"></a><a href="#FNanchor_295_295"><span class="label">[295]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 415.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_296_296" id="Footnote_296_296"></a><a href="#FNanchor_296_296"><span class="label">[296]</span></a> Lord E. Fitzmaurice's <i>Life of Shelburne</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_297_297" id="Footnote_297_297"></a><a href="#FNanchor_297_297"><span class="label">[297]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 413.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_298_298" id="Footnote_298_298"></a><a href="#FNanchor_298_298"><span class="label">[298]</span></a> This statement, I believe, refers to a complimentary +reference to Bentham in the preface to the French Code.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_299_299" id="Footnote_299_299"></a><a href="#FNanchor_299_299"><span class="label">[299]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 458.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_300_300" id="Footnote_300_300"></a><a href="#FNanchor_300_300"><span class="label">[300]</span></a> Bentham says that he reached these conclusions some +time before 1809: <i>Works</i>, iii. 435. Cf. <i>Ibid.</i> v. 278.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_301_301" id="Footnote_301_301"></a><a href="#FNanchor_301_301"><span class="label">[301]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 425.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_302_302" id="Footnote_302_302"></a><a href="#FNanchor_302_302"><span class="label">[302]</span></a> See description in Bain's <i>James Mill</i>, 129-36.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_303_303" id="Footnote_303_303"></a><a href="#FNanchor_303_303"><span class="label">[303]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 479, 573.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_304_304" id="Footnote_304_304"></a><a href="#FNanchor_304_304"><span class="label">[304]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 452-54.; Bain's <i>James Mill</i>, 104.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_305_305" id="Footnote_305_305"></a><a href="#FNanchor_305_305"><span class="label">[305]</span></a> The case of the 'King <i>v.</i> Cobbett,' (1804), which led +to the proceedings against Mr. Justice Johnson in 1805.—Cobbett's +<i>State Trials</i>, xxix.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_306_306" id="Footnote_306_306"></a><a href="#FNanchor_306_306"><span class="label">[306]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 448-49.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_307_307" id="Footnote_307_307"></a><a href="#FNanchor_307_307"><span class="label">[307]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 458.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_308_308" id="Footnote_308_308"></a><a href="#FNanchor_308_308"><span class="label">[308]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 471, 570.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_309_309" id="Footnote_309_309"></a><a href="#FNanchor_309_309"><span class="label">[309]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 471.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_310_310" id="Footnote_310_310"></a><a href="#FNanchor_310_310"><span class="label">[310]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 461.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_311_311" id="Footnote_311_311"></a><a href="#FNanchor_311_311"><span class="label">[311]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 471.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_312_312" id="Footnote_312_312"></a><a href="#FNanchor_312_312"><span class="label">[312]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 490.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_313_313" id="Footnote_313_313"></a><a href="#FNanchor_313_313"><span class="label">[313]</span></a> Printed in <i>Works</i>, x. 495-97.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_314_314" id="Footnote_314_314"></a><a href="#FNanchor_314_314"><span class="label">[314]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 570.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_315_315" id="Footnote_315_315"></a><a href="#FNanchor_315_315"><span class="label">[315]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 476.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_316_316" id="Footnote_316_316"></a><a href="#FNanchor_316_316"><span class="label">[316]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 485.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_317_317" id="Footnote_317_317"></a><a href="#FNanchor_317_317"><span class="label">[317]</span></a> Bain's <i>James Mill</i>, 136. <i>Church of Englandism</i> and +<i>Not Paul but Jesus</i> were also written at Ford Abbey.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_318_318" id="Footnote_318_318"></a><a href="#FNanchor_318_318"><span class="label">[318]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 433, 448.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_319_319" id="Footnote_319_319"></a><a href="#FNanchor_319_319"><span class="label">[319]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 457-58; Bain's <i>James Mill</i>, 79.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_320_320" id="Footnote_320_320"></a><a href="#FNanchor_320_320"><span class="label">[320]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, 553-54, 565.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_321_321" id="Footnote_321_321"></a><a href="#FNanchor_321_321"><span class="label">[321]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 53.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_322_322" id="Footnote_322_322"></a><a href="#FNanchor_322_322"><span class="label">[322]</span></a> See <i>Memoirs of J. Q. Adams</i> (1874), iii. 511, 520, +532, 535-39, 540, 544, 560, 562-63. and Bentham's letter to Adams in +<i>Works</i>, x. 554.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_323_323" id="Footnote_323_323"></a><a href="#FNanchor_323_323"><span class="label">[323]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, xi. 23.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_324_324" id="Footnote_324_324"></a><a href="#FNanchor_324_324"><span class="label">[324]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 40.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">V. <a name="V_V" id="V_V"></a>CODIFICATION</p> + +<p>The unsettled conditions which followed the peace in various European +countries found Bentham other employment. In 1809 Dumont did some +codifying for the Emperor of Russia, and in 1817 was engaged to do the +same service for Geneva. He was employed for some years, and is said +to have introduced a Benthamite Penal Code and Panopticon, and an +application of the Tactics.<a name="FNanchor_325_325" id="FNanchor_325_325"></a><a href="#Footnote_325_325" class="fnanchor">[325]</a> In 1820 and 1821 Bentham was +consulted by the Constitutional party in Spain and Portugal, and wrote +elaborate tracts for their enlightenment. He made an impression upon +at least one Spaniard. Borrow, when travelling in Spain some ten years +after Bentham's death, was welcomed by an Alcalde on Cape Finisterre, +who had upon his shelves all the works of the 'grand Baintham,' and +compared him to Solon, Plato, and even Lope de Vega.<a name="FNanchor_326_326" id="FNanchor_326_326"></a><a href="#Footnote_326_326" class="fnanchor">[326]</a> The last +comparison appeared to Borrow to be overstrained. Bentham even +endeavoured in 1822-23 to administer some sound advice to the +government of Tripoli, but his suggestions for 'remedies against +misrule' seem never to have been communicated.<a name="FNanchor_327_327" id="FNanchor_327_327"></a><a href="#Footnote_327_327" class="fnanchor">[327]</a> In 1823 and 1824 +he was a member of the Greek Committee; he corresponded with +Mavrocordato and other leaders; and he begged Parr to turn some of his +admonitions into 'Parrian' Greek for the benefit of the moderns.<a name="FNanchor_328_328" id="FNanchor_328_328"></a><a href="#Footnote_328_328" class="fnanchor">[328]</a> +Blaquière and Stanhope, two ardent members of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +committee, were +disciples; and Stanhope carried with him to Greece Bentham's <i>Table of +the Springs of Action</i>, with which he tried to indoctrinate Byron. The +poet, however, thought with some plausibility that he was a better +judge of human passions than the philosopher. Parry, the engineer, who +joined Byron at the same time, gives a queer account of the old +philosopher trotting about London in the service of the Greeks.<a name="FNanchor_329_329" id="FNanchor_329_329"></a><a href="#Footnote_329_329" class="fnanchor">[329]</a> +The coarse and thoughtless might laugh, and perhaps some neither +coarse nor thoughtless might smile. But Bowring tells us that these +were days of boundless happiness for Bentham.<a name="FNanchor_330_330" id="FNanchor_330_330"></a><a href="#Footnote_330_330" class="fnanchor">[330]</a> Tributes of +admiration were pouring in from all sides, and the true Gospel was +spreading across the Atlantic and along the shores of the +Mediterranean.</p> + +<p>At home the Utilitarian party was consolidating itself; and the +struggle which resulted in the Reform Bill was slowly beginning. The +veteran Cartwright, Bentham's senior by eight years, tried in 1821 to +persuade him to come out as one of a committee of 'Guardians of +Constitutional Reform,' elected at a public meeting.<a name="FNanchor_331_331" id="FNanchor_331_331"></a><a href="#Footnote_331_331" class="fnanchor">[331]</a> Bentham +wisely refused to be drawn from his privacy. He left it to his friends +to agitate, while he returned to labour in his study. The demand for +legislation which had sprung up in so many parts of the world +encouraged Bentham to undertake the last of his great labours. The +Portuguese Cortes voted in December 1821 that he should be invited to +prepare an 'all-comprehensive code'; and in 1822 he put out a curious +'Codification proposal,' offering to do the work for any nation in +need of a legislator, and appending testimonials +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +to his competence +for the work. He set to work upon a 'Constitutional Code,' which +occupied him at intervals during the remainder of his life, and +embodied the final outcome of his speculations. He diverged from this +main purpose to write various pamphlets upon topics of immediate +interest; and was keenly interested in the various activities of his +disciples. The Utilitarians now thought themselves entitled to enter +the field of politics as a distinct body. An organ to defend their +cause was desirable, and Bentham supplied the funds for the +<i>Westminster Review</i>, of which the first number appeared in April +1824.</p> + +<p>The editorship fell chiefly into the hands of Bowring (1792-1872). +Bowring had travelled much upon the Continent for a commercial house, +and his knowledge of Spanish politics had brought him into connection +with Bentham, to whom Blaquière recommended him in 1820.<a name="FNanchor_332_332" id="FNanchor_332_332"></a><a href="#Footnote_332_332" class="fnanchor">[332]</a> A strong +attachment sprang up between the two. Bentham confided all his +thoughts and feelings to the young man, and Bowring looked up to his +teacher with affectionate reverence. In 1828 Bentham says that Bowring +is 'the most intimate friend he has.'<a name="FNanchor_333_333" id="FNanchor_333_333"></a><a href="#Footnote_333_333" class="fnanchor">[333]</a> Bowring complains of +calumnies, by which he was assailed, though they failed to alienate +Bentham. What they may have been matters little; but it is clear that +a certain jealousy arose between this last disciple and his older +rivals. James Mill's stern and rigid character had evidently produced +some irritation at intervals; and to him it would naturally appear +that Bowring was the object of a senile favouritism. In any case it is +to be regretted that Bentham thus became partly alienated from his +older +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +friends<a name="FNanchor_334_334" id="FNanchor_334_334"></a><a href="#Footnote_334_334" class="fnanchor">[334]</a>. Mill was too proud to complain; and never wavered +in his allegiance to the master's principles. But one result, and to +us the most important, was that the new attachment led to the +composition of one of the worst biographies in the language, out of +materials which might have served for a masterpiece. Bowring was a +great linguist, and an energetic man of business. He wrote hymns, and +one of them, 'In the cross of Christ I glory,' is said to have +'universal fame.' A Benthamite capable of so singular an eccentricity +judiciously agreed to avoid discussions upon religious topics with his +master. To Bowring we also owe the <i>Deontology</i>, which professes to +represent Bentham's dictation. The Mills repudiated this version, +certainly a very poor one, of their teacher's morality, and held that +it represented less Bentham than such an impression of Bentham as +could be stamped upon a muddle-headed disciple.<a name="FNanchor_335_335" id="FNanchor_335_335"></a><a href="#Footnote_335_335" class="fnanchor">[335]</a></p> + +<p>The last years of his life brought Bentham into closer connection with +more remarkable men. The Radicals had despised the Whigs as trimmers +and half-hearted reformers, and James Mill expressed this feeling very +frankly in the first numbers of the <i>Westminster Review</i>. Reform, +however, was now becoming respectable, and the Whigs were gaining the +courage to take it up seriously. Foremost among the Edinburgh +Reviewers was the great Henry Brougham, whose fame was at this time +almost as great as his ambition could desire, and who considered +himself to be the natural leader of all reform. He had shown eagerness +to distinguish himself in lines fully +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +approved by Bentham. His +admirers regarded him as a giant; and his opponents, if they saw in +him a dash of the charlatan, could not deny his amazing energy and his +capacity as an orator. The insatiable vanity which afterwards ruined +his career already made it doubtful whether he fought for the cause or +the glory. But he was at least an instrument worth having. He was a +kind of half-disciple. If in 1809 he had checked Mill's praise of +Bentham, he was soon afterwards in frequent communication with the +master. In July 1812 Bentham announces that Brougham is at last to be +admitted to a dinner, for which he had been 'intriguing any time this +six months,' and expects that his proselyte will soon be the first man +in the House of Commons, and eclipse even Romilly.<a name="FNanchor_336_336" id="FNanchor_336_336"></a><a href="#Footnote_336_336" class="fnanchor">[336]</a> In later years +they had frequent communications; and when in 1827 Brougham was known +to be preparing an utterance upon law reform, Bentham's hopes rose +high. He offered to his disciple 'some nice little sweet pap of my own +making,' sound teaching that is, upon evidence, judicial +establishments and codification. Brougham thanks his 'dear grandpapa,' +and Bentham offers further supplies to his 'dear, sweet little +poppet.'<a name="FNanchor_337_337" id="FNanchor_337_337"></a><a href="#Footnote_337_337" class="fnanchor">[337]</a> But when the orator had spoken Bentham declares (9th +February 1828) that the mountain has been delivered of a mouse. +Brougham was 'not the man to set up' simple and rational principles. +He was the sham adversary but the real accomplice of Peel, pulling up +lies by the root to plant others equally noxious.<a name="FNanchor_338_338" id="FNanchor_338_338"></a><a href="#Footnote_338_338" class="fnanchor">[338]</a> In 1830 Bentham +had even to hold up 'Master Peel' as a 'model good boy' to the +self-styled reformer. Brougham needs a dose of jalap instead of pap, +for he cannot even spell the 'greatest +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +happiness principle' +properly.<a name="FNanchor_339_339" id="FNanchor_339_339"></a><a href="#Footnote_339_339" class="fnanchor">[339]</a> Bentham went so far as to write what he fondly took to +be an epigram upon Brougham:</p> + +<div class="centered table"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" width="60%" cellspacing="0" summary="POEM"> +<tr><td> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'So foolish and so wise, so great, so small,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Everything now, to-morrow nought at all.'<a name="FNanchor_340_340" id="FNanchor_340_340"></a><a href="#Footnote_340_340" class="fnanchor">[340]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> +</td></tr></table> +</div> + +<p>In September 1831 Brougham as Chancellor announced a scheme for +certain changes in the constitution of the courts. The proposal called +forth Bentham's last pamphlet, <i>Lord Brougham displayed</i>.<a name="FNanchor_341_341" id="FNanchor_341_341"></a><a href="#Footnote_341_341" class="fnanchor">[341]</a> Bentham +laments that his disciple has 'stretched out the right hand of +fellowship to jobbers of all sorts.'<a name="FNanchor_342_342" id="FNanchor_342_342"></a><a href="#Footnote_342_342" class="fnanchor">[342]</a> In vain had Brougham in his +speech called Bentham 'one of the great sages of the law.' Bentham +acknowledges his amiability and his genius; but laments over the +untrustworthy character of a man who could only adopt principles so +far as they were subservient to his own vanity.</p> + +<p>Another light of the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, who at this time took +Brougham at his own valuation, did an incidental service to Bentham. +Upon the publication of the <i>Book of Fallacies</i> in 1825, Sydney Smith +reviewed or rather condensed it in the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, and gave +the pith of the whole in his famous <i>Noodle's Oration</i>. The noodle +utters all the commonplaces by which the stupid conservatives, with +Eldon at their head, met the demands of reformers. Nothing could be +wittier than Smith's brilliant summary. Whigs and Radicals for the +time agreed in ridiculing blind prejudice. The day was to come when +the Whigs at least would see that some principles might be worse than +prejudice. All the fools, said Lord Melbourne, 'were against Catholic +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +Emancipation, and the worst of it is, the fools were in the right.' +Sydney Smith was glad to be Bentham's mouthpiece for the moment: +though, when Benthamism was applied to church reform, Smith began to +perceive that Noodle was not so silly as he seemed.</p> + +<p>One other ally of Bentham deserves notice. O'Connell had in 1828, in +speaking of legal abuses, called himself 'an humble disciple of the +immortal Bentham.'<a name="FNanchor_343_343" id="FNanchor_343_343"></a><a href="#Footnote_343_343" class="fnanchor">[343]</a> Bentham wrote to acknowledge the compliment. +He invited O'Connell to become an inmate of his hermitage at Queen's +Square Place, and O'Connell responded warmly to the letters of his +'revered master.' Bentham's aversion to Catholicism was as strong as +his objection to Catholic disqualifications, and he took some trouble +to smooth down the difficulties which threatened an alliance between +ardent believers and thoroughgoing sceptics. O'Connell had attacked +some who were politically upon his side. 'Dan, dear child,' says +Bentham, 'whom in imagination I am at this moment pressing to my fond +bosom, put off, if it be possible, your intolerance.'<a name="FNanchor_344_344" id="FNanchor_344_344"></a><a href="#Footnote_344_344" class="fnanchor">[344]</a> Their +friendship, however, did not suffer from this discord, and their +correspondence is in the same tone till the end. In one of Bentham's +letters he speaks of a contemporary correspondence with another great +man, whom he does not appear to have met personally. He was writing +long letters, entreating the duke of Wellington to eclipse Cromwell by +successfully attacking the lawyers. The duke wrote 'immediate answers +in his own hand,' and took good-humouredly a remonstrance from Bentham +upon the duel with Lord Winchilsea in 1829.<a name="FNanchor_345_345" id="FNanchor_345_345"></a><a href="#Footnote_345_345" class="fnanchor">[345]</a> Bentham was ready to +the end to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +seek allies in any quarter. When Lord Sidmouth took office +in 1812, Bentham had an interview with him, and had some hopes of +being employed to prepare a penal code.<a name="FNanchor_346_346" id="FNanchor_346_346"></a><a href="#Footnote_346_346" class="fnanchor">[346]</a> Although experience had +convinced him of the futility of expectations from the Sidmouths and +Eldons, he was always on the look out for sympathy; and the venerable +old man was naturally treated with respect by people who had little +enough of real interest in his doctrines.</p> + +<p>During the last ten years of his life, Bentham was cheered by symptoms +of the triumph of his creed. The approach of the millennium seemed to +be indicated by the gathering of the various forces which carried +Roman Catholic Emancipation and the Reform Bill. Bentham still +received testimonies of his fame abroad. In 1825 he visited Paris to +consult some physicians. He was received with the respect which the +French can always pay to intellectual eminence.<a name="FNanchor_347_347" id="FNanchor_347_347"></a><a href="#Footnote_347_347" class="fnanchor">[347]</a> All the lawyers +in a court of justice rose to receive him, and he was placed at the +president's right hand. On the revolution of 1830, he addressed some +good advice to the country of which he had been made a citizen nearly +forty years before. In 1832, Talleyrand, to whom he had talked about +the Panopticon in 1792, dined with him alone in his hermitage.<a name="FNanchor_348_348" id="FNanchor_348_348"></a><a href="#Footnote_348_348" class="fnanchor">[348]</a> +When Bowring observed to the prince that Bentham's works had been +plundered, the polite diplomatist replied, <i>et pillé de tout le monde, +il est toujours riche</i>. Bentham was by this time failing. At +eighty-two he was still, as he put it, 'codifying like any +dragon.'<a name="FNanchor_349_349" id="FNanchor_349_349"></a><a href="#Footnote_349_349" class="fnanchor">[349]</a> On 18th May 1832 he did his last bit of his lifelong +labour, upon the 'Constitutional Code.' The great +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +reform agitation +was reaching the land of promise, but Bentham was to die in the +wilderness. He sank without a struggle on 6th June 1832, his head +resting on Bowring's bosom. He left the characteristic direction that +his body should be dissected for the benefit of science. An incision +was formally made; and the old gentleman, in his clothes as he lived, +his face covered by a wax mask, is still to be seen at University +College in Gower Street.</p> + +<p>Bentham, as we are told, had a strong personal resemblance to Benjamin +Franklin. Sagacity, benevolence, and playfulness were expressed in +both physiognomies. Bentham, however, differed from the man whose +intellect presents many points of likeness, in that he was not a man +of the market-place or the office. Bentham was in many respects a +child through life:<a name="FNanchor_350_350" id="FNanchor_350_350"></a><a href="#Footnote_350_350" class="fnanchor">[350]</a> a child in simplicity, good humour, and +vivacity; his health was unbroken; he knew no great sorrow; and after +emerging from the discouragement of his youth, he was placidly +contemplating a continuous growth of fame and influence. He is said to +have expressed the wish that he could awake once in a century to +contemplate the prospect of a world gradually adopting his principles +and so making steady progress in happiness and wisdom.</p> + +<p>No man could lead a simpler life. His chief luxuries at table were +fruit, bread, and tea. He had a 'sacred teapot' called Dick, with +associations of its own, and carefully regulated its functions. He +refrained from wine during the greatest part of his life, and was +never guilty of a single act of intemperance. In later life he took a +daily half-glass of Madeira. He was scrupulously +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +neat in person, and +wore a Quaker-like brown coat, brown cassimere breeches, white worsted +stockings and a straw hat. He walked or 'rather trotted' with his +stick Dapple, and took his 'ante-prandial' and other 'circumgyrations' +with absolute punctuality. He loved pets; he had a series of attached +cats; and cherished the memory of a 'beautiful pig' at Hendon, and of +a donkey at Ford Abbey. He encouraged mice to play in his study—a +taste which involved some trouble with his cats, and suggests problems +as to the greatest happiness of the greatest number. Kindness to +animals was an essential point of his moral creed. 'I love +everything,' he said, 'that has four legs.' He had a passion for +flowers, and tried to introduce useful plants. He loved +music—especially Handel—and had an organ in his house. He cared +nothing for poetry: 'Prose,' he said,<a name="FNanchor_351_351" id="FNanchor_351_351"></a><a href="#Footnote_351_351" class="fnanchor">[351]</a> 'is when all the lines +except the last go on to the margin. Poetry is when some of them fall +short of it.' He was courteous and attentive to his guests, though +occasionally irritable when his favourite crotchets were transgressed, +or especially if his fixed hours of work were deranged.</p> + +<p>His regularity in literary work was absolute. He lived by a +time-table, working in the morning and turning out from ten to fifteen +folio pages daily. He read the newspapers regularly, but few books, +and cared nothing for criticisms on his own writings. His only +substantial meal was a dinner at six or half-past, to which he +occasionally admitted a few friends as a high privilege. He liked to +discuss the topics of which his mind was full, and made notes +beforehand of particular points to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +be introduced in conversation. He +was invariably inaccessible to visitors, even famous ones, likely to +distract his thoughts. 'Tell Mr. Bentham that Mr. Richard Lovell +Edgeworth desires to see him.' 'Tell Mr. Richard Lovell Edgeworth that +Mr. Bentham does not desire to see him' was the reply. When Mme. de +Staël came to England, she said to Dumont: 'Tell Bentham I shall see +nobody till I have seen him.' 'I am sorry for it,' said Bentham, 'for +then she will never see anybody.' And he summed up his opinion of the +famous author of <i>Corinne</i> by calling her 'a trumpery magpie.'<a name="FNanchor_352_352" id="FNanchor_352_352"></a><a href="#Footnote_352_352" class="fnanchor">[352]</a> +There is a simplicity and vivacity about some of the sayings reported +by Bowring, which prove that Bentham could talk well, and increase our +regret for the absence of a more efficient Boswell. At ten Bentham had +his tea, at eleven his nightcap, and by twelve all his guests were +ignominiously expelled. He was left to sleep on a hard bed. His sleep +was light, and much disturbed by dreams.</p> + +<p>Bentham was certainly amiable. The 'surest way to gain men,' he said, +'is to appear to love them, and the surest way to appear to love them +is to love them in reality.' The least pleasing part of his character, +however, is the apparent levity of his attachments. He was, as we have +seen, partly alienated from Dumont, though some friendly +communications are recorded in later years, and Dumont spoke warmly of +Bentham only a few days before his death in 1829.<a name="FNanchor_353_353" id="FNanchor_353_353"></a><a href="#Footnote_353_353" class="fnanchor">[353]</a> He not only +cooled towards James Mill, but, if Bowring is to be trusted, spoke of +him with great harshness.<a name="FNanchor_354_354" id="FNanchor_354_354"></a><a href="#Footnote_354_354" class="fnanchor">[354]</a> Bowring was not a judicious reporter, +indeed, and capable of taking hasty phrases too seriously. What +Bentham's remarks upon these and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +other friends suggest is not malice +or resentment, but the flippant utterance of a man whose feelings are +wanting in depth rather than kindliness. It is noticeable that, after +his early visit at Bowood, no woman seems to have counted for anything +in Bentham's life. He was not only never in love, but it looks as if +he never even talked to any woman except his cook or housemaid.</p> + +<p>The one conclusion that I need draw concerns a question not, I think, +hard to be solved. It would be easy to make a paradox by calling +Bentham at once the most practical and most unpractical of men. This +is to point out the one-sided nature of Bentham's development. +Bentham's habits remind us in some ways of Kant; and the thought may +be suggested that he would have been more in his element as a German +professor of philosophies. In such a position he might have devoted +himself to the delight of classifying and co-ordinating theories, and +have found sufficient enjoyment in purely intellectual activity. After +a fashion that was the actual result. How far, indeed, Bentham could +have achieved much in the sphere of pure philosophy, and what kind of +philosophy he would have turned out, must be left to conjecture. The +circumstances of his time and country, and possibly his own +temperament generally, turned his thoughts to problems of legislation +and politics, that is to say, of direct practical interest. He was +therefore always dealing with concrete facts, and a great part of his +writings may be considered as raw material for acts of parliament. +Bentham remained, however, unpractical, in the sense that he had not +that knowledge which we ascribe either to the poet or to the man of +the world. He had neither the passion nor the sympathetic imagination. +The springs +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +of active conduct which Byron knew from experience were +to Bentham nothing more than names in a careful classification. Any +shrewd attorney or Bow Street runner would have been a better judge of +the management of convicts; and here were dozens of party politicians, +such as Rigby and Barré, who could have explained to him beforehand +those mysteries in the working of the political machinery, which it +took him half a lifetime to discover. In this sense Bentham was +unpractical in the highest degree, for at eighty he had not found out +of what men are really made. And yet by his extraordinary intellectual +activity and the concentration of all his faculties upon certain +problems, he succeeded in preserving an example, and though not a +unique yet an almost unsurpassable example, of the power which belongs +to the man of one idea.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_325_325" id="Footnote_325_325"></a><a href="#FNanchor_325_325"><span class="label">[325]</span></a> See correspondence upon his codification plans in +Russia, America, and Geneva in <i>Works</i>, iv. 451-594.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_326_326" id="Footnote_326_326"></a><a href="#FNanchor_326_326"><span class="label">[326]</span></a> Borrow's <i>Bible in Spain</i>, ch. xxx.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_327_327" id="Footnote_327_327"></a><a href="#FNanchor_327_327"><span class="label">[327]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, viii. 555-600.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_328_328" id="Footnote_328_328"></a><a href="#FNanchor_328_328"><span class="label">[328]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 534. See Blaquière's enthusiastic letter to +Bentham.—<i>Works</i>, x. 475.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_329_329" id="Footnote_329_329"></a><a href="#FNanchor_329_329"><span class="label">[329]</span></a> See, however, Bentham's reference to this +story.—<i>Works</i>, xi. 66.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_330_330" id="Footnote_330_330"></a><a href="#FNanchor_330_330"><span class="label">[330]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 539.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_331_331" id="Footnote_331_331"></a><a href="#FNanchor_331_331"><span class="label">[331]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 522.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_332_332" id="Footnote_332_332"></a><a href="#FNanchor_332_332"><span class="label">[332]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 516.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_333_333" id="Footnote_333_333"></a><a href="#FNanchor_333_333"><span class="label">[333]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 591.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_334_334" id="Footnote_334_334"></a><a href="#FNanchor_334_334"><span class="label">[334]</span></a> A letter from Mill in the University College <small>MSS.</small> +describes a misunderstanding about borrowed books, a fertile, but +hardly adequate, cause of quarrel.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_335_335" id="Footnote_335_335"></a><a href="#FNanchor_335_335"><span class="label">[335]</span></a> Bowring's religious principles prevented him from +admitting some of Bentham's works to the collective edition.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_336_336" id="Footnote_336_336"></a><a href="#FNanchor_336_336"><span class="label">[336]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 471-72.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_337_337" id="Footnote_337_337"></a><a href="#FNanchor_337_337"><span class="label">[337]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 576.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_338_338" id="Footnote_338_338"></a><a href="#FNanchor_338_338"><span class="label">[338]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 588.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_339_339" id="Footnote_339_339"></a><a href="#FNanchor_339_339"><span class="label">[339]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, xi. 37. Papers preserved at University College +show that during Peel's law reforms at this time Bentham frequently +communicated with him.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_340_340" id="Footnote_340_340"></a><a href="#FNanchor_340_340"><span class="label">[340]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 50.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_341_341" id="Footnote_341_341"></a><a href="#FNanchor_341_341"><span class="label">[341]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 549.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_342_342" id="Footnote_342_342"></a><a href="#FNanchor_342_342"><span class="label">[342]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 609.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_343_343" id="Footnote_343_343"></a><a href="#FNanchor_343_343"><span class="label">[343]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 594.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_344_344" id="Footnote_344_344"></a><a href="#FNanchor_344_344"><span class="label">[344]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 26.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_345_345" id="Footnote_345_345"></a><a href="#FNanchor_345_345"><span class="label">[345]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 13, 28.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_346_346" id="Footnote_346_346"></a><a href="#FNanchor_346_346"><span class="label">[346]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 468.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_347_347" id="Footnote_347_347"></a><a href="#FNanchor_347_347"><span class="label">[347]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 551.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_348_348" id="Footnote_348_348"></a><a href="#FNanchor_348_348"><span class="label">[348]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 75.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_349_349" id="Footnote_349_349"></a><a href="#FNanchor_349_349"><span class="label">[349]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 33.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_350_350" id="Footnote_350_350"></a><a href="#FNanchor_350_350"><span class="label">[350]</span></a> Mill's <i>Dissertations</i>, i. 354 and 392 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_351_351" id="Footnote_351_351"></a><a href="#FNanchor_351_351"><span class="label">[351]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 442.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_352_352" id="Footnote_352_352"></a><a href="#FNanchor_352_352"><span class="label">[352]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 467; xi. 79.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_353_353" id="Footnote_353_353"></a><a href="#FNanchor_353_353"><span class="label">[353]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> xi. 23-24.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_354_354" id="Footnote_354_354"></a><a href="#FNanchor_354_354"><span class="label">[354]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 450.</p></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>BENTHAM'S DOCTRINE</h3> + +<p class="scs">I. <a name="VI_I" id="VI_I"></a>FIRST PRINCIPLES</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +Bentham's position is in one respect unique. There have been many +greater thinkers; but there has been hardly any one whose abstract +theory has become in the same degree the platform of an active +political party. To accept the philosophy was to be also pledged to +practical applications of Utilitarianism. What, then, was the +revelation made to the Benthamites, and to what did it owe its +influence? The central doctrine is expressed in Bentham's famous +formula: the test of right and wrong is the 'greatest happiness of the +greatest number.' There was nothing new in this assertion. It only +expresses the fact that Bentham accepted one of the two alternatives +which have commended themselves to conflicting schools ever since +ethical speculation was erected into a separate department of thought. +Moreover, the side which Bentham took was, we may say, the winning +side. The ordinary morality of the time was Utilitarian in substance. +Hutcheson had invented the sacred phrase: and Hume had based his moral +system upon 'utility.'<a name="FNanchor_355_355" id="FNanchor_355_355"></a><a href="#Footnote_355_355" class="fnanchor">[355]</a> Bentham +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> had learned much from Helvétius +the French freethinker, and had been anticipated by Paley the English +divine. The writings in which Bentham deals explicitly with the +general principles of Ethics would hardly entitle him to a higher +position than that of a disciple of Hume without Hume's subtlety; or +of Paley without Paley's singular gift of exposition. Why, then, did +Bentham's message come upon his disciples with the force and freshness +of a new revelation? Our answer must be in general terms that Bentham +founded not a doctrine but a method: and that the doctrine which came +to him simply as a general principle was in his hands a potent +instrument applied with most fruitful results to questions of +immediate practical interest.</p> + +<p>Beyond the general principle of utility, therefore, we have to +consider the 'organon' constructed by him to give effect to a general +principle too vague to be applied in detail. The fullest account of +this is contained in the <i>Introduction to the Principles of Morals and +Legislation</i>. This work unfortunately is a fragment, but it gives his +doctrine vigorously and decisively, without losing itself in the +minute details which become wearisome in his later writings. Bentham +intended it as an introduction to a penal code; and his investigation +sent him back to more general problems. He found it necessary to +settle the relations of the penal code to the whole body of law; and +to settle these he had to consider the principles which underlie +legislation in general. He had thus, he says, to 'create a new +science,' and then to elaborate one department of the science. The +'introduction' would contain prolegomena not only for the penal code +but for the other departments of inquiry +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +which he intended to +exhaust.<a name="FNanchor_356_356" id="FNanchor_356_356"></a><a href="#Footnote_356_356" class="fnanchor">[356]</a> He had to lay down primary truths which should be to +this science what the axioms are to mathematical sciences.<a name="FNanchor_357_357" id="FNanchor_357_357"></a><a href="#Footnote_357_357" class="fnanchor">[357]</a> These +truths therefore belong to the sphere of conduct in general, and +include his ethical theory.</p> + +<p>'Nature has placed mankind' (that is his opening phrase) 'under the +governance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It is for them +alone to point out what we ought to do, as well as to determine what +we shall do.' There is the unassailable basis. It had been laid down +as unequivocally by Locke,<a name="FNanchor_358_358" id="FNanchor_358_358"></a><a href="#Footnote_358_358" class="fnanchor">[358]</a> and had been embodied in the brilliant +couplets of Pope's <i>Essay on Man</i>.<a name="FNanchor_359_359" id="FNanchor_359_359"></a><a href="#Footnote_359_359" class="fnanchor">[359]</a> At the head of the curious +table of universal knowledge, given in the <i>Chrestomathia</i>, we have +Eudæmonics as an all-comprehensive name of which every art is a +branch.<a name="FNanchor_360_360" id="FNanchor_360_360"></a><a href="#Footnote_360_360" class="fnanchor">[360]</a> Eudæmonics, as an art, corresponds to the science +'ontology.' It covers the whole sphere of human thought. It means +knowledge in general as related to conduct. Its first principle, +again, requires no more proof than the primary axioms of arithmetic or +geometry. Once understood, it is by the same act of the mind seen to +be true. Some people, indeed, do not see it. Bentham rather ignores +than answers some of their arguments. But his mode of treating +opponents indicates his own position. 'Happiness,' it is often said, +is too vague a word to be the keystone of an ethical system; it +varies +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +from man to man: or it is 'subjective,' and therefore gives no +absolute or independent ground for morality. A morality of +'eudæmonism' must be an 'empirical' morality, and we can never extort +from it that 'categorical imperative,' without which we have instead +of a true morality a simple system of 'expediency.' From Bentham's +point of view the criticism must be retorted. He regards 'happiness' +as precisely the least equivocal of words; and 'happiness' itself as +therefore affording the one safe clue to all the intricate problems of +human conduct. The authors of the <i>Federalist</i>, for example, had said +that justice was the 'end of government.' 'Why not happiness?' asks +Bentham. 'What happiness is every man knows, because what pleasure is, +every man knows, and what pain is, every man knows. But what justice +is—this is what on every occasion is the subject-matter of +dispute.'<a name="FNanchor_361_361" id="FNanchor_361_361"></a><a href="#Footnote_361_361" class="fnanchor">[361]</a> That phrase gives his view in a nutshell. Justice is +the means, not the end. That is just which produces a maximum of +happiness. Omit all reference to Happiness, and Justice becomes a +meaningless word prescribing equality, but not telling us equality of +what. Happiness, on the other hand, has a substantial and independent +meaning from which the meaning of justice can be deduced. It has +therefore a logical priority: and to attempt to ignore this is the way +to all the labyrinths of hopeless confusion by which legislation has +been made a chaos. Bentham's position is indicated by his early +conflict with Blackstone, not a very powerful representative of the +opposite principle. Blackstone, in fact, had tried to base his defence +of that eminently empirical product, the British Constitution, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> upon +some show of a philosophical groundwork. He had used the vague +conception of a 'social contract,' frequently invoked for the same +purpose at the revolution of 1688, and to eke out his arguments +applied the ancient commonplaces about monarchy, aristocracy, and +democracy. He thus tried to invest the constitution with the sanctity +derived from this mysterious 'contract,' while appealing also to +tradition or the incarnate 'wisdom of our ancestors,' as shown by +their judicious mixture of the three forms. Bentham had an easy task, +though he performed it with remarkable vigour, in exposing the +weakness of this heterogeneous aggregate. Look closely, and this +fictitious contract can impose no new obligation: for the obligation +itself rests upon Utility. Why not appeal to Utility at once? I am +bound to obey, not because my great-grandfather may be regarded as +having made a bargain, which he did not really make, with the +great-grandfather of George <small>III.</small>; but simply because rebellion does +more harm than good. The forms of government are abstractions, not +names of realities, and their 'mixture' is a pure figment. King, +Lords, and Commons are not really incarnations of power, wisdom, and +goodness. Their combination forms a system the merits of which must in +the last resort be judged by its working. 'It is the principle of +utility, accurately apprehended and steadily applied, that affords the +only clew to guide a man through these streights.'<a name="FNanchor_362_362" id="FNanchor_362_362"></a><a href="#Footnote_362_362" class="fnanchor">[362]</a> So much in +fact Bentham might learn from Hume; and to defend upon any other +ground the congeries of traditional arrangements which passed for the +British Constitution was obviously absurd. It was in this warfare +against the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +shifting and ambiguous doctrines of Blackstone that +Bentham first showed the superiority of his own method: for, as +between the two, Bentham's position is at least the most coherent and +intelligible.</p> + +<p>Blackstone, however, represents little more than a bit of rhetoric +embodying fragments of inconsistent theories. The <i>Morals and +Legislation</i> opens by briefly and contemptuously setting aside more +philosophical opponents of Utilitarianism. The 'ascetic' principle, +for example, is the formal contradiction of the principle of Utility, +for it professedly declares pleasure to be evil. Could it be +consistently carried out it would turn earth into hell. But in fact it +is at bottom an illegitimate corollary from the very principle which +it ostensibly denies. It professes to condemn pleasure in general; it +really means that certain pleasures can only be bought at an excessive +cost of pain. Other theories are contrivances for avoiding the appeal +'to any external standard'; and in substance, therefore, they make the +opinion of the individual theorist an ultimate and sufficient reason. +Adam Smith by his doctrine of 'sympathy' makes the sentiment of +approval itself the ultimate standard. My feeling echoes yours, and +reciprocally; each cannot derive authority from the other. Another man +(Hutcheson) invents a thing made on purpose to tell him what is right +and what is wrong and calls it a 'moral sense.' Beattie substitutes +'common' for 'moral' sense, and his doctrine is attractive because +every man supposes himself to possess common sense. Others, like +Price, appeal to the Understanding, or, like Clarke, to the 'Fitness +of Things,' or they invent such phrases as 'Law of Nature,' or 'Right +Reason' or 'Natural Justice,' or what you +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +please. Each really means +that whatever he says is infallibly true and self-evident. Wollaston +discovers that the only wrong thing is telling a lie; or that when you +kill your father, it is a way of saying that he is not your father, +and the same method is applicable to any conduct which he happens to +dislike. The 'fairest and openest of them all' is the man who says, 'I +am of the number of the Elect'; God tells the Elect what is right: +therefore if you want to know what is right, you have only to come to +me.<a name="FNanchor_363_363" id="FNanchor_363_363"></a><a href="#Footnote_363_363" class="fnanchor">[363]</a> Bentham is writing here in his pithiest style. His criticism +is of course of the rough and ready order; but I think that in a +fashion he manages to hit the nail pretty well on the head.</p> + +<p>His main point, at any rate, is clear. He argues briefly that the +alternative systems are illusory because they refer to no 'external +standard.' His opponents, not he, really make morality arbitrary. +This, whatever the ultimate truth, is in fact the essential core of +all the Utilitarian doctrine descended from or related to Benthamism. +Benthamism aims at converting morality into a science. Science, +according to him, must rest upon facts. It must apply to real things, +and to things which have definite relations and a common measure. Now, +if anything be real, pains and pleasures are real. The expectation of +pain or pleasure determines conduct; and, if so, it must be the sole +determinant of conduct. The attempt to conceal or evade this truth is +the fatal source of all equivocation and confusion. Try the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +experiment. Introduce a 'moral sense.' What is its relation to the +desire for happiness? If the dictates of the moral sense be treated as +ultimate, an absolutely arbitrary element is introduced; and we have +one of the 'innate ideas' exploded by Locke, a belief summarily +intruded into the system without definite relations to any other +beliefs: a dogmatic assertion which refuses to be tested or to be +correlated with other dogmas; a reduction therefore of the whole +system to chaos. It is at best an instinctive belief which requires to +be justified and corrected by reference to some other criterion. Or +resolve morality into 'reason,' that is, into some purely logical +truth, and it then remains in the air—a mere nonentity until +experience has supplied some material upon which it can work. Deny the +principle of utility, in short, as he says in a vigorous passage,<a name="FNanchor_364_364" id="FNanchor_364_364"></a><a href="#Footnote_364_364" class="fnanchor">[364]</a> +and you are involved in a hopeless circle. Sooner or later you appeal +to an arbitrary and despotic principle and find that you have +substituted words for thoughts.</p> + +<p>The only escape from this circle is the frank admission that happiness +is, in fact, the sole aim of man. There are, of course, different +kinds of happiness as there are different kinds of physical forces. +But the motives to action are, like the physical forces, +commensurable. Two courses of conduct can always be compared in +respect of the happiness produced, as two motions of a body can be +compared in respect of the energy expended. If, then, we take the +moral judgment to be simply a judgment of amounts of happiness, the +whole theory can be systematised, and its various theorems ranged +under a single axiom or consistent set of axioms. Pain and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> pleasure +give the real value of actions; they are the currency with a definite +standard into which every general rule may be translated. There is +always a common measure applicable in every formula for the estimation +of conduct. If you admit your Moral Sense, you profess to settle +values by some standard which has no definite relation to the standard +which in fact governs the normal transactions. But any such double +standard, in which the two measures are absolutely incommensurable, +leads straight to chaos. Or, if again you appeal to reason in the +abstract, you are attempting to settle an account by pure arithmetic +without reference to the units upon which your operation is performed. +Two pounds and two pounds will make four pounds whatever a pound may +be; but till I know what it is, the result is nugatory. Somewhere I +must come upon a basis of fact, if my whole construction is to stand.</p> + +<p>This is the fundamental position implied in Bentham's doctrine. The +moral judgment is simply one case of the judgment of happiness. +Bentham is so much convinced of this that to him there appeared to be +in reality no other theory. What passed for theories were mere +combinations of words. Having said this, we know where to lay the +foundations of the new science. It deals with a vast complicity of +facts: it requires 'investigations as severe as mathematical ones, but +beyond all comparison more intricate and extensive.'<a name="FNanchor_365_365" id="FNanchor_365_365"></a><a href="#Footnote_365_365" class="fnanchor">[365]</a> Still it +deals with facts, and with facts which have a common measure, and can, +therefore, be presented as a coherent system. To present this system, +or so much of it as is required for purposes of legislation, is +therefore +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +his next task. The partial execution is the chief substance +of the <i>Introduction</i>. Right and wrong conduct, we may now take for +granted, mean simply those classes of conduct which are conducive to +or opposed to happiness; or, in the sacred formula, to act rightly +means to promote the greatest happiness of the greatest number. The +legislator, like every one else, acts rightly in so far as he is +guided by the principle (to use one of the phrases coined by Bentham) +of 'maximising' happiness. He seeks to affect conduct; and conduct can +be affected only by annexing pains or pleasures to given classes of +actions. Hence we have a vitally important part of his doctrine—the +theory of 'sanctions.' Pains and pleasures as annexed to action are +called 'sanctions.' There are 'physical or natural,' 'political, +'moral or popular,' and 'religious' sanctions. The 'physical' +sanctions are such pleasures and pains as follow a given course of +conduct independently of the interference of any other human or +supernatural being; the 'political' those which are annexed by the +action of the legislator; the 'moral or popular' those which are +annexed by other individuals not acting in a corporate capacity; and +the 'religious' those which are annexed by a 'superior invisible +being,' or, as he says elsewhere,<a name="FNanchor_366_366" id="FNanchor_366_366"></a><a href="#Footnote_366_366" class="fnanchor">[366]</a> 'such as are capable of being +expected at the hands of an invisible Ruler of the Universe.' The +three last sanctions, he remarks, 'operate through the first.' The +'magistrate' or 'men at large' can only operate, and God is supposed +only to operate, 'through the powers of nature,' that is, by applying +some of the pains and pleasures which may also be natural sanctions. A +man is burnt: if by his own imprudence, that is a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +'physical' +sanction; if by the magistrate, it is a 'political' sanction; if by +some neglect of his neighbours, due to their dislike of his 'moral +character,' a 'moral' sanction; if by the immediate act of God or by +distraction caused by dread of God's displeasure, it is a 'religious' +sanction. Of these, as Bentham characteristically observes<a name="FNanchor_367_367" id="FNanchor_367_367"></a><a href="#Footnote_367_367" class="fnanchor">[367]</a> in a +later writing the political is much stronger than the 'moral' or +'religious.' Many men fear the loss of character or the 'wrath of +Heaven,' but all men fear the scourge and the gallows.<a name="FNanchor_368_368" id="FNanchor_368_368"></a><a href="#Footnote_368_368" class="fnanchor">[368]</a> He admits, +however, that the religious sanction and the additional sanction of +'benevolence' have the advantage of not requiring that the offender +should be found out.<a name="FNanchor_369_369" id="FNanchor_369_369"></a><a href="#Footnote_369_369" class="fnanchor">[369]</a> But in any case, the 'natural' and religious +sanctions are beyond the legislator's power. His problem, therefore, +is simply this: what sanctions ought he to annex to conduct, or +remembering that 'ought' means simply 'conducive to happiness,' what +political sanctions will increase happiness?</p> + +<p>To answer this fully will be to give a complete system of legislation; +but in order to answer it we require a whole logical and psychological +apparatus. Bentham shows this apparatus at work, but does not expound +its origin in any separate treatise. Enough information, however, is +given as to his method in the curious collection of the fragments +connected with the <i>Chrestomathia</i>. A logical method upon which he +constantly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +insisted is that of 'bipartition,'<a name="FNanchor_370_370" id="FNanchor_370_370"></a><a href="#Footnote_370_370" class="fnanchor">[370]</a> called also the +'dichotomous' or 'bifurcate' method, and exemplified by the so-called +'Porphyrian Tree.' The principle is, of course, simple. Take any +genus: divide it into two classes, one of which has and the other has +not a certain mark. The two classes must be mutually exclusive and +together exhaustive. Repeat the operation upon each of the classes and +continue the process as long as desired.<a name="FNanchor_371_371" id="FNanchor_371_371"></a><a href="#Footnote_371_371" class="fnanchor">[371]</a> At every step you thus +have a complete enumeration of all the species, varieties, and so on, +each of which excludes all the others. No mere logic, indeed, can +secure the accuracy and still less the utility of the procedure. The +differences may be in themselves ambiguous or irrelevant. If I +classify plants as 'trees' and 'not trees,' the logical form is +satisfied: but I have still to ask whether 'tree' conveys a +determinate meaning, and whether the distinction corresponds to a +difference of any importance. A perfect classification, however, could +always be stated in this form. Each species, that is, can be marked by +the presence or absence of a given difference, whether we are dealing +with classes of plants or actions: and Bentham aims at that +consummation though he admits that centuries may be required for the +construction of an accurate classification in ethical +speculations.<a name="FNanchor_372_372" id="FNanchor_372_372"></a><a href="#Footnote_372_372" class="fnanchor">[372]</a> He exaggerates the efficiency of his method, and +overlooks the tendency of tacit assumptions to smuggle themselves into +what affects to be a mere enumeration of classes. But in any case, no +one could labour more industriously to get every object of his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +thought arranged and labelled and put into the right pigeon-hole of +his mental museum. To codify<a name="FNanchor_373_373" id="FNanchor_373_373"></a><a href="#Footnote_373_373" class="fnanchor">[373]</a> is to classify, and Bentham might be +defined as a codifying animal.</p> + +<p>Things thus present themselves to Bentham's mind as already prepared +to fit into pigeon-holes. This is a characteristic point, and it +appears in what we must call his metaphysical system. 'Metaphysics,' +indeed, according to him, is simply 'a sprig,' and that a small one, +of the 'branch termed Logic.'<a name="FNanchor_374_374" id="FNanchor_374_374"></a><a href="#Footnote_374_374" class="fnanchor">[374]</a> It is merely the explanation of +certain general terms such as 'existence,' 'necessity,' and so +forth.<a name="FNanchor_375_375" id="FNanchor_375_375"></a><a href="#Footnote_375_375" class="fnanchor">[375]</a> Under this would apparently fall the explanation of +'reality' which leads to a doctrine upon which he often insists, and +which is most implicitly given in the fragment called <i>Ontology</i>. He +there distinguishes 'real' from 'fictitious entities,' a distinction +which, as he tells us,<a name="FNanchor_376_376" id="FNanchor_376_376"></a><a href="#Footnote_376_376" class="fnanchor">[376]</a> he first learned from d'Alembert's phrase +<i>Êtres fictifs</i> and which he applies in his <i>Morals and Legislation</i>. +'Real entities,' according to him,<a name="FNanchor_377_377" id="FNanchor_377_377"></a><a href="#Footnote_377_377" class="fnanchor">[377]</a> are 'individual perceptions,' +'impressions,' and 'ideas.' In this, of course, he is following Hume, +though he applies the Johnsonian argument to Berkeley's +immaterialism.<a name="FNanchor_378_378" id="FNanchor_378_378"></a><a href="#Footnote_378_378" class="fnanchor">[378]</a> A 'fictitious entity' is a name which does note +'raise up in the mind any correspondent images.'<a name="FNanchor_379_379" id="FNanchor_379_379"></a><a href="#Footnote_379_379" class="fnanchor">[379]</a> Such names owe +their existence to the necessities of language. Without employing such +fictions, however, 'the language of man could not have risen above the +language of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +brutes';<a name="FNanchor_380_380" id="FNanchor_380_380"></a><a href="#Footnote_380_380" class="fnanchor">[380]</a> and he emphatically distinguishes them from +'unreal' or 'fabulous entities.' A 'fictitious entity' is not a +'nonentity.'<a name="FNanchor_381_381" id="FNanchor_381_381"></a><a href="#Footnote_381_381" class="fnanchor">[381]</a> He includes among such entities all Aristotle's +'predicaments' except the first: 'substance.'<a name="FNanchor_382_382" id="FNanchor_382_382"></a><a href="#Footnote_382_382" class="fnanchor">[382]</a> Quantity, quality, +relation, time, place are all 'physical fictitious entities.' This is +apparently equivalent to saying that the only 'physical entities' are +concrete things—sticks, stones, bodies, and so forth—the 'reality' +of which he takes for granted in the ordinary common sense meaning. It +is also perfectly true that things are really related, have quantity +and quality, and are in time and space. But we cannot really conceive +the quality or relation apart from the concrete things so qualified +and related. We are forced by language to use substantives which in +their nature have only the sense of adjectives. He does not suppose +that a body is not really square or round; but he thinks it a fiction +to speak of squareness or roundness or space in general as something +existing apart from matter and, in some sense, alongside of matter.</p> + +<p>This doctrine, which brings us within sight of metaphysical problems +beyond our immediate purpose, becomes important to his moral +speculation. His special example of a 'fictitious entity' in politics +is 'obligation.'<a name="FNanchor_383_383" id="FNanchor_383_383"></a><a href="#Footnote_383_383" class="fnanchor">[383]</a> Obligations, rights, and similar words are +'fictitious entities.' Obligation in particular implies a metaphor. +The statement that a man is 'obliged' to perform an act means simply +that he will suffer pain if he does not perform it. The use of the +word obligation, as a noun substantive, introduces the 'fictitious +entity' which represents nothing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +really separable from the pain or +pleasure. Here, therefore, we have the ground of the doctrine already +noticed. 'Pains and pleasures' are real.<a name="FNanchor_384_384" id="FNanchor_384_384"></a><a href="#Footnote_384_384" class="fnanchor">[384]</a> 'Their existence,' he +says,<a name="FNanchor_385_385" id="FNanchor_385_385"></a><a href="#Footnote_385_385" class="fnanchor">[385]</a> 'is matter of universal and constant experience.' But other +various names referring to these: emotion, inclination, vice, virtue, +etc., are only 'psychological entities.' 'Take away pleasures and +pains, not only happiness but justice and duty and obligation and +virtue—all of which have been so elaborately held up to view as +independent of them—are so many empty sounds.'<a name="FNanchor_386_386" id="FNanchor_386_386"></a><a href="#Footnote_386_386" class="fnanchor">[386]</a> The ultimate +facts, then, are pains and pleasures. They are the substantives of +which these other words are properly the adjectives. A pain or a +pleasure may exist by itself, that is without being virtuous or +vicious: but virtue and vice can only exist in so far as pain and +pleasure exists.</p> + +<p>This analysis of 'obligation' is a characteristic doctrine of the +Utilitarian school. We are under an 'obligation' so far as we are +affected by a 'sanction.' It appeared to Bentham so obvious as to need +no demonstration, only an exposition of the emptiness of any verbal +contradiction. Such metaphysical basis as he needed is simply the +attempt to express the corresponding conception of reality which, in +his opinion, only requires to be expressed to carry conviction.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_355_355" id="Footnote_355_355"></a><a href="#FNanchor_355_355"><span class="label">[355]</span></a> See note under Bentham's life, <i>ante</i>, p. 178.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_356_356" id="Footnote_356_356"></a><a href="#FNanchor_356_356"><span class="label">[356]</span></a> Preface to <i>Morals and Legislation</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_357_357" id="Footnote_357_357"></a><a href="#FNanchor_357_357"><span class="label">[357]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, i. ('Morals and Legislation'), ii. <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_358_358" id="Footnote_358_358"></a><a href="#FNanchor_358_358"><span class="label">[358]</span></a> <i>Essay</i>, bk. ii. ch. xxi. § 39-§ 44. The will, says +Locke, is determined by the 'uneasiness of desire.' What moves desire? +Happiness, and that alone. Happiness is pleasure, and misery pain. +What produces pleasure we call good; and what produces pain we call +evil. Locke, however, was not a consistent Utilitarian.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_359_359" id="Footnote_359_359"></a><a href="#FNanchor_359_359"><span class="label">[359]</span></a> Epistle iv., opening lines.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_360_360" id="Footnote_360_360"></a><a href="#FNanchor_360_360"><span class="label">[360]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vii. 82.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_361_361" id="Footnote_361_361"></a><a href="#FNanchor_361_361"><span class="label">[361]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Constitutional Code'), ix. 123.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_362_362" id="Footnote_362_362"></a><a href="#FNanchor_362_362"><span class="label">[362]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Fragment'), i. 287.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_363_363" id="Footnote_363_363"></a><a href="#FNanchor_363_363"><span class="label">[363]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 8-10. Mill +quotes this passage in his essay on Bentham in the first volume of his +<i>Dissertations</i>. This essay, excellent in itself must be specially +noticed as an exposition by an authoritative disciple.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_364_364" id="Footnote_364_364"></a><a href="#FNanchor_364_364"><span class="label">[364]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 13.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_365_365" id="Footnote_365_365"></a><a href="#FNanchor_365_365"><span class="label">[365]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. v.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_366_366" id="Footnote_366_366"></a><a href="#FNanchor_366_366"><span class="label">[366]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Evidence'), vi. 261.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_367_367" id="Footnote_367_367"></a><a href="#FNanchor_367_367"><span class="label">[367]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Evidence'), vii. 116.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_368_368" id="Footnote_368_368"></a><a href="#FNanchor_368_368"><span class="label">[368]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 14, etc.; +<i>Ibid.</i> vi. 260. In <i>Ibid.</i> ('Evidence') vii. 116, 'humanity,' and in +'Logical Arrangements,' <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 290, 'sympathy' appears as a fifth +sanction. Another modification is suggested in <i>Ibid.</i> i. 14 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_369_369" id="Footnote_369_369"></a><a href="#FNanchor_369_369"><span class="label">[369]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 67.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_370_370" id="Footnote_370_370"></a><a href="#FNanchor_370_370"><span class="label">[370]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 96 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_371_371" id="Footnote_371_371"></a><a href="#FNanchor_371_371"><span class="label">[371]</span></a> See especially <i>Ibid.</i> viii. 104, etc.; 253, etc.; 289, +etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_372_372" id="Footnote_372_372"></a><a href="#FNanchor_372_372"><span class="label">[372]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> viii. 106.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_373_373" id="Footnote_373_373"></a><a href="#FNanchor_373_373"><span class="label">[373]</span></a> 'Codify' was one of Bentham's successful neologisms.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_374_374" id="Footnote_374_374"></a><a href="#FNanchor_374_374"><span class="label">[374]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Logic'), viii. 220.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_375_375" id="Footnote_375_375"></a><a href="#FNanchor_375_375"><span class="label">[375]</span></a> Here Bentham coincides with Horne Tooke, to whose +'discoveries' he refers in the <i>Chrestomathia</i> (<i>Works</i>, viii. 120, +185, 188).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_376_376" id="Footnote_376_376"></a><a href="#FNanchor_376_376"><span class="label">[376]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, iii. 286; viii. 119.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_377_377" id="Footnote_377_377"></a><a href="#FNanchor_377_377"><span class="label">[377]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ('Ontology') viii. 196 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_378_378" id="Footnote_378_378"></a><a href="#FNanchor_378_378"><span class="label">[378]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> viii, 197 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_379_379" id="Footnote_379_379"></a><a href="#FNanchor_379_379"><span class="label">[379]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> viii. 263.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_380_380" id="Footnote_380_380"></a><a href="#FNanchor_380_380"><span class="label">[380]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Ontology'), viii. 119.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_381_381" id="Footnote_381_381"></a><a href="#FNanchor_381_381"><span class="label">[381]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> viii. 198.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_382_382" id="Footnote_382_382"></a><a href="#FNanchor_382_382"><span class="label">[382]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> viii. 199.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_383_383" id="Footnote_383_383"></a><a href="#FNanchor_383_383"><span class="label">[383]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> viii. 206, 247.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_384_384" id="Footnote_384_384"></a><a href="#FNanchor_384_384"><span class="label">[384]</span></a> Helvétius adds to this that the only real pains and +pleasures are the physical, but Bentham does not follow him here. See +Helvétius, <i>Œuvres</i> (1781), ii. 121, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_385_385" id="Footnote_385_385"></a><a href="#FNanchor_385_385"><span class="label">[385]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, i. 211 ('Springs of Action').</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_386_386" id="Footnote_386_386"></a><a href="#FNanchor_386_386"><span class="label">[386]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 206.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">II. <a name="VI_II" id="VI_II"></a>SPRINGS OF ACTION</p> + +<p>Our path is now clear. Pains and pleasures give us what mathematicians +call the 'independent variable.' +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +Our units are (in Bentham's phrase) +'lots' of pain or pleasure. We have to interpret all the facts in +terms of pain or pleasure, and we shall have the materials for what +has since been called a 'felicific calculus.' To construct this with a +view to legislation is his immediate purpose. The theory will fall +into two parts: the 'pathological,' or an account of all the pains and +pleasures which are the primary data; and the 'dynamical,' or an +account of the various modes of conduct determined by expectations of +pain and pleasure. This gives the theory of 'springs of action,' +considered in themselves, and of 'motives,' that is, of the springs as +influencing conduct.<a name="FNanchor_387_387" id="FNanchor_387_387"></a><a href="#Footnote_387_387" class="fnanchor">[387]</a> The 'pathology' contains, in the first +place, a discussion of the measure of pain and pleasure in general; +secondly, a discussion of the various species of pain and pleasure; +and thirdly, a discussion of the varying sensibilities of different +individuals to pain and pleasure.<a name="FNanchor_388_388" id="FNanchor_388_388"></a><a href="#Footnote_388_388" class="fnanchor">[388]</a> Thus under the first head, we +are told that the value of a pleasure, considered by itself, depends +upon its intensity, duration, certainty, and propinquity; and, +considered with regard to modes of obtaining it, upon its fecundity +(or tendency to produce other pains and pleasures) and its purity (or +freedom from admixture of other pains and pleasures). The pain or +pleasure is thus regarded as an entity which is capable of being in +some sense weighed and measured.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span><a name="FNanchor_389_389" id="FNanchor_389_389"></a><a href="#Footnote_389_389" class="fnanchor">[389]</a> +The next step is to classify +pains and pleasures, which though commensurable as psychological +forces, have obviously very different qualities. Bentham gives the +result of his classification without the analysis upon which it +depends. He assures us that he has obtained an 'exhaustive' list of +'simple pleasures.' It must be confessed that the list does not +commend itself either as exhaustive or as composed of 'simple +pleasures.' He does not explain the principle of his analysis because +he says, it was of 'too metaphysical a cast,'<a name="FNanchor_390_390" id="FNanchor_390_390"></a><a href="#Footnote_390_390" class="fnanchor">[390]</a> but he thought it +so important that he published it, edited with considerable +modifications by James Mill, in 1817, as a <i>Table of the Springs of +Action</i>.<a name="FNanchor_391_391" id="FNanchor_391_391"></a><a href="#Footnote_391_391" class="fnanchor">[391]</a></p> + +<p>J. S. Mill remarks that this table should be studied by any one who +would understand Bentham's philosophy. Such a study would suggest some +unfavourable conclusions. Bentham seems to have made out his table +without the slightest reference to any previous psychologist. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +It is +simply constructed to meet the requirements of his legislative +theories. As psychology it would be clearly absurd, especially if +taken as giving the elementary or 'simple' feelings. No one can +suppose, for example, that the pleasures of 'wealth' or 'power' are +'simple' pleasures. The classes therefore are not really distinct, and +they are as far from being exhaustive. All that can be said for the +list is that it gives a sufficiently long enumeration to call +attention from his own point of view to most of the ordinary pleasures +and pains; and contains as much psychology as he could really turn to +account for his purpose.</p> + +<p>The omissions with which his greatest disciple charges him are +certainly significant. We find, says Mill, no reference to +'Conscience,' 'Principle,' 'Moral Rectitude,' or 'Moral Duty' among +the 'springs of action,' unless among the synonyms of a 'love of +reputation,' or in so far as 'Conscience' and 'Principle' are +sometimes synonymous with the 'religious' motive or the motive +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> of +'sympathy.' So the sense of 'honour,' the love of beauty, and of +order, of power (except in the narrow sense of power over our fellows) +and of action in general are all omitted. We may conjecture what reply +Bentham would have made to this criticism. The omission of the love of +beauty and æsthetic pleasures may surprise us when we remember that +Bentham loved music, if he cared nothing for poetry. But he apparently +regarded these as 'complex pleasures,'<a name="FNanchor_392_392" id="FNanchor_392_392"></a><a href="#Footnote_392_392" class="fnanchor">[392]</a> and therefore not +admissible into his table, if it be understood as an analysis into the +simple pleasures alone. The pleasures of action are deliberately +omitted, for Bentham pointedly gives the 'pains' of labour as a class +without corresponding pleasure; and this, though indicative, I think, +of a very serious error, is characteristic rather of his method of +analysis than of his real estimate of pleasure. Nobody could have +found more pleasure than Bentham in intellectual labour, but he +separated the pleasure from the labour. He therefore thought 'labour,' +as such, a pure evil, and classified the pleasure as a pleasure of +'curiosity.' But the main criticism is more remarkable. Mill certainly +held himself to be a sound Utilitarian; and yet he seems to be +condemning Bentham for consistent Utilitarianism. Bentham, by +admitting the 'conscience' into his simple springs of action, would +have fallen into the very circle from which he was struggling to +emerge. If, in fact, the pleasures of conscience are simple pleasures, +we have the objectionable 'moral sense' intruded as an ultimate factor +of human +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +nature. To get rid of that 'fictitious entity' is precisely +Bentham's aim. The moral judgment is to be precisely equivalent to the +judgment: 'this or that kind of conduct increases or diminishes the +sum of human pains or pleasures.' Once allow that among the pains and +pleasures themselves is an ultimate conscience—a faculty not +constructed out of independent pains and pleasures—and the system +becomes a vicious circle. Conscience on any really Utilitarian scheme +must be a derivative, not an ultimate, faculty. If, as Mill seems to +say, the omission is a blunder, Bentham's Utilitarianism at least must +be an erroneous system.</p> + +<p>We have now our list both of pains and pleasures and of the general +modes of variation by which their value is to be measured. We must +also allow for the varying sensibilities of different persons. Bentham +accordingly gives a list of thirty-two 'circumstances influencing +sensibility.'<a name="FNanchor_393_393" id="FNanchor_393_393"></a><a href="#Footnote_393_393" class="fnanchor">[393]</a> Human beings differ in constitution, character, +education, sex, race, and so forth, and in their degrees of +sensibility to all the various classes of pains and pleasures; the +consideration of these varieties is of the highest utility for the +purposes of the judge and the legislator.<a name="FNanchor_394_394" id="FNanchor_394_394"></a><a href="#Footnote_394_394" class="fnanchor">[394]</a> The 'sanctions' will +operate differently in different cases. A blow will have different +effects upon the sick and upon the healthy; the same fine imposed upon +the rich and the poor will cause very different pains; and a law which +is beneficent in Europe may be a scourge in America.</p> + +<p>We have thus our 'pathology' or theory of the passive sensibilities of +man. We know what are the 'springs of action,' how they vary in +general, and how they vary +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +from one man to another. We can therefore +pass to the dynamics.<a name="FNanchor_395_395" id="FNanchor_395_395"></a><a href="#Footnote_395_395" class="fnanchor">[395]</a> We have described the machinery in rest, +and can now consider it in motion. We proceed as before by first +considering action in general: which leads to consideration of the +'intention' and the 'motive' implied by any conscious action: and +hence of the relation of these to the 'springs of action' as already +described. The discussion is minute and elaborate; and Bentham +improves as he comes nearer to the actual problems of legislation and +further from the ostensible bases of psychology. The analysis of +conduct, and of the sanctions by which conduct is modified, involves a +view of morals and of the relations between the spheres of morality +and legislation which is of critical importance for the whole +Utilitarian creed. 'Moral laws' and a 'Positive law' both affect human +action. How do they differ? Bentham's treatment of the problem shows, +I think, a clearer appreciation of some difficulties than might be +inferred from his later utterances. In any case, it brings into clear +relief a moral doctrine which deeply affected his successors.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_387_387" id="Footnote_387_387"></a><a href="#FNanchor_387_387"><span class="label">[387]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, i. 205; and Dumont's <i>Traités</i> (1820), i. xxv, +xxvi. The word 'springs of action' perhaps comes from the marginal +note to the above-mentioned passage of Locke (bk. ii. chap. xxvi, § +41, 42).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_388_388" id="Footnote_388_388"></a><a href="#FNanchor_388_388"><span class="label">[388]</span></a> <i>Morals and Legislation</i>, chaps. iv., v., vi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_389_389" id="Footnote_389_389"></a><a href="#FNanchor_389_389"><span class="label">[389]</span></a> See 'Codification Proposal' (<i>Works</i>, iv. 540), where +Bentham takes money as representing pleasure, and shows how the +present value may be calculated like that of a sum put out to +interest. The same assumption is often made by Political Economists in +regard to 'utilities.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_390_390" id="Footnote_390_390"></a><a href="#FNanchor_390_390"><span class="label">[390]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 17 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_391_391" id="Footnote_391_391"></a><a href="#FNanchor_391_391"><span class="label">[391]</span></a> It is not worth while to consider this at length; but I +give the following conjectural account of the list as it appears in +the <i>Morals and Legislation</i> above. In classifying pain or pleasures, +Bentham is, I think, following the clue suggested by his 'sanctions.' +He is really classifying according to their causes or the way in which +they are 'annexed.' Thus pleasures may or may not be dependent upon +other persons, or if upon other persons, may be indirectly or directly +caused by their pleasures or pains. Pleasures not caused by persons +correspond to the 'physical sanction,' and are those (1) of the +'senses,' (2) of wealth, <i>i.e.</i> caused by the possession of things, +and (3) of 'skill,' <i>i.e.</i> caused by our ability to use things. +Pleasures caused by persons indirectly correspond first to the +'popular or moral sanction,' and are pleasures (4) of 'amity,' caused +by the goodwill of individuals, and (5) of a 'good name,' caused by +the goodwill of people in general; secondly, to 'political sanction,' +namely (6) pleasures of 'power'; and thirdly, to the 'religious +sanction,' or (7) pleasures of 'piety.' All these are 'self-regarding +pleasures.' The pleasures caused directly by the pleasure of others +are those (8) of 'benevolence,' and (9) of malevolence. We then have +what is really a cross division by classes of 'derivative' pleasures; +these being due to (10) memory, (11) imagination, (12) expectation, +(13) association. To each class of pleasures corresponds a class of +pains, except that there are no pains corresponding to the pleasures +of wealth or power. We have, however, a general class of pains of +'privation,' which might include pains of poverty or weakness: and to +these are opposed (14) pleasures of 'relief,' <i>i.e.</i> of the privation +of pains. In the <i>Table</i>, as separately published, Bentham modified +this by dividing pleasures of sense into three classes, the last of +which includes the two first; by substituting pleasures of 'curiosity' +for pleasures of 'skill' by suppressing pleasures of relief and pains +of privation; and by adding, as a class of 'pains' without +corresponding pleasures, pains (1) of labour, (2) of 'death, and +bodily pains in general.' These changes seem to have been introduced +in the course of writing his <i>Introduction</i>, where they are partly +assumed. Another class is added to include all classes of +'self-regarding pleasures or pains.' He is trying to give a list of +all 'synonyms' for various pains and pleasures, and has therefore to +admit classes corresponding to general names which include other +classes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_392_392" id="Footnote_392_392"></a><a href="#FNanchor_392_392"><span class="label">[392]</span></a> <i>Works</i> i. 210, where he speaks of pleasures of the +'ball-room,' the 'theatre,' and the 'fine arts' as derivable from the +'simple and elementary' pleasures.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_393_393" id="Footnote_393_393"></a><a href="#FNanchor_393_393"><span class="label">[393]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 22 etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_394_394" id="Footnote_394_394"></a><a href="#FNanchor_394_394"><span class="label">[394]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 33.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_395_395" id="Footnote_395_395"></a><a href="#FNanchor_395_395"><span class="label">[395]</span></a> <i>Morals and Legislation</i>, ch. vii. to xi.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">III. <a name="VI_III" id="VI_III"></a>THE SANCTIONS</p> + +<p>Let us first take his definitions of the fundamental conceptions. All +action of reasonable beings implies the expectation of consequences. +The agent's 'intention' is defined by the consequences actually +contemplated. The cause of action is the hope of the consequent +pleasures or the dread of the consequent +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +pains. This anticipated +pleasure or pain constitutes the 'internal motive' (a phrase used by +Bentham to exclude the 'external motive' or event which causes the +anticipation).<a name="FNanchor_396_396" id="FNanchor_396_396"></a><a href="#Footnote_396_396" class="fnanchor">[396]</a> The motive, or 'internal motive,' is the +anticipation of pain to be avoided or pleasure to be gained. Actions +are good or bad simply and solely as they are on the whole 'productive +of a balance of pleasure or pain.' The problem of the legislator is +how to regulate actions so as to incline the balance to the right +side. His weapons are 'sanctions' which modify 'motives.' What +motives, then, should be strengthened or checked? Here we must be +guided by a principle which is, in fact, the logical result of the +doctrines already laid down. We are bound to apply our 'felicific +calculus' with absolute impartiality. We must therefore assign equal +value to all motives. 'No motives,' he says,<a name="FNanchor_397_397" id="FNanchor_397_397"></a><a href="#Footnote_397_397" class="fnanchor">[397]</a> are 'constantly good +or constantly bad.' Pleasure is itself a good; pain itself an evil: +nay, they are 'the only good and the only evil.' This is true of every +sort of pain and pleasure, even of the pains and pleasures of illwill. +The pleasures of 'malevolence' are placed in his 'table' by the side +of pleasures of 'benevolence.' Hence it 'follows immediately and +incontestably, that there is no such thing as any sort of motive that +is in itself a bad one.' The doctrine is no doubt a logical deduction +from Bentham's assumptions, and he proceeds to illustrate its meaning. +A 'motive' corresponds to one of his 'springs of action.' He shows how +every one of the motives included in his table may lead either to good +or to bad consequences. The desire of wealth may lead me to kill a +man's enemy or to plough his field for him; the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +fear of God may +prompt to fanaticism or to charity; illwill may lead to malicious +conduct or may take the form of proper 'resentment,' as, for example, +when I secure the punishment of my father's murderer. Though one act, +he says, is approved and the other condemned, they spring from the +same motive, namely, illwill.<a name="FNanchor_398_398" id="FNanchor_398_398"></a><a href="#Footnote_398_398" class="fnanchor">[398]</a> He admits, however, that some +motives are more likely than others to lead to 'useful' conduct; and +thus arranges them in a certain 'order of pre-eminence.'<a name="FNanchor_399_399" id="FNanchor_399_399"></a><a href="#Footnote_399_399" class="fnanchor">[399]</a> It is +obvious that 'goodwill,' 'love of reputation,' and the 'desire of +amity' are more likely than others to promote general happiness. 'The +dictates of utility,' as he observes, are simply the 'dictates of the +most extensive and enlightened (that is, <i>well advised</i>) benevolence.' +It would, therefore, seem more appropriate to call the 'motive' good; +though no one doubts that when directed by an erroneous judgment it +may incidentally be mischievous.</p> + +<p>The doctrine that morality depends upon 'consequences' and not upon +'motives' became a characteristic Utilitarian dogma, and I shall have +to return to the question. Meanwhile, it was both a natural and, I +think, in some senses, a correct view, when strictly confined to the +province of legislation. For reasons too obvious to expand, the +legislator must often be indifferent to the question of motives. He +cannot know with certainty what are a man's motives. He must enforce +the law whatever may be the motives for breaking it; and punish +rebellion, for example, even if he attributes it to misguided +philanthropy. He can, in any case, punish only such crimes as are +found out; and must define crimes by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +palpable 'external' marks. He +must punish by such coarse means as the gallows and the gaol: for his +threats must appeal to the good and the bad alike. He depends, +therefore, upon 'external' sanctions, sanctions, that is, which work +mainly upon the fears of physical pain; and even if his punishments +affect the wicked alone, they clearly cannot reach the wicked as +wicked, nor in proportion to their wickedness. That is quite enough to +show why in positive law motives are noticed indirectly or not at all. +It shows also that the analogy between the positive and the moral law +is treacherous. The exclusion of motive justifiable in law may take +all meaning out of morality. The Utilitarians, as we shall see, were +too much disposed to overlook the difference, and attempt to apply +purely legal doctrine in the totally uncongenial sphere of ethical +speculation. To accept the legal classification of actions by their +external characteristics is, in fact, to beg the question in advance. +Any outward criterion must group together actions springing from +different 'motives' and therefore, as other moralists would say, +ethically different.</p> + +<p>There is, however, another meaning in this doctrine which is more to +the purpose here. Bentham was aiming at a principle which, true or +false, is implied in all ethical systems based upon experience instead +of pure logic or <i>a priori</i> 'intuitions.' Such systems must accept +human nature as a fact, and as the basis of a scientific theory. They +do not aim at creating angels but at developing the existing +constitution of mankind. So far as an action springs from one of the +primitive or essential instincts of mankind, it simply proves the +agent to be human, not to be vicious or virtuous, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +therefore is no +ground for any moral judgment. If Bentham's analysis could be +accepted, this would be true of his 'springs of action.' The natural +appetites have not in themselves a moral quality: they are simply +necessary and original data in the problem. The perplexity is +introduced by Bentham's assumption that conduct can be analysed so +that the 'motive' is a separate entity which can be regarded as the +sole cause of a corresponding action. That involves an irrelevant +abstraction. There is no such thing as a single 'motive.' One of his +cases is a mother who lets her child die for love of 'ease.' We do not +condemn her because she loves ease, which is a motive common to all +men and therefore unmoral, not immoral. But neither do we condemn her +merely for the bad consequences of a particular action. We condemn her +because she loves ease better than she loves her child: that is, +because her whole character is 'unnatural' or ill-balanced, not on +account of a particular element taken by itself. Morality is concerned +with concrete human beings, and not with 'motives' running about by +themselves. Bentham's meaning, if we make the necessary correction, +would thus be expressed by saying that we don't blame a man because he +has the 'natural' passions, but because they are somehow wrongly +proportioned or the man himself wrongly constituted. Passions which +may make a man vicious may also be essential to the highest virtue. +That is quite true; but the passion is not a separate agent, only one +constituent of the character.</p> + +<p>Bentham admits this in his own fashion. If 'motives' cannot be +properly called good or bad, is there, he asks, nothing good or bad in +the man who on a given occasion +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +obeys a certain motive? 'Yes, +certainly,' he replies, 'his disposition.'<a name="FNanchor_400_400" id="FNanchor_400_400"></a><a href="#Footnote_400_400" class="fnanchor">[400]</a> The disposition, he +adds, is a 'fictitious entity, and designed for the convenience of +discourse in order to express what there is supposed to be permanent +in a man's frame of mind.' By 'fictitious,' as we have seen, he means +not 'unreal' but simply not tangible, weighable, or measurable—like +sticks and stones, or like pains and pleasures. 'Fictitious' as they +may be, therefore, the fiction enables us to express real truths, and +to state facts which are of the highest importance to the moralist and +the legislator. Bentham discusses some cases of casuistry in order to +show the relation between the tendency of an action and the intention +and motives of the agent. Ravaillac murders a good king; Ravaillac's +son enables his father to escape punishment, or conveys poison to his +father to enable him to avoid torture by suicide.<a name="FNanchor_401_401" id="FNanchor_401_401"></a><a href="#Footnote_401_401" class="fnanchor">[401]</a> What is the +inference as to the son's disposition in either case? The solution (as +he substantially and, I think, rightly suggests) will have to be +reached by considering whether the facts indicate that the son's +disposition was mischievous or otherwise; whether it indicates +political disloyalty or filial affection, and so forth, and in what +proportions. The most interesting case perhaps is that of religious +persecution, where the religious motive is taken to be good, and the +action to which it leads is yet admitted to be mischievous. The +problem is often puzzling, but we are virtually making an inference as +to the goodness or badness of the 'disposition' implied by the given +action under all the supposed circumstances. This gives what Bentham +calls the 'meritoriousness'<a name="FNanchor_402_402" id="FNanchor_402_402"></a><a href="#Footnote_402_402" class="fnanchor">[402]</a> of the disposition. The 'intention' +is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +caused by the 'motive.' The 'disposition' is the 'sum of the +intentions'; that is to say, it expresses the agent's sensibility to +various classes of motives; and the merit therefore will be in +proportion to the total goodness or badness of the disposition thus +indicated. The question of merit leads to interesting moral problems. +Bentham, however, observes that he is not here speaking from the point +of view of the moralist but of the legislator. Still, as a legislator +he has to consider what is the 'depravity' of disposition indicated by +different kinds of conduct. This consideration is of great importance. +The 'disposition' includes sensibility to what he calls 'tutelary +motives'—motives, that is, which deter a man from such conduct as +generally produces mischievous consequences. No motive can be +invariably, though some, especially the motive of goodwill, and in a +minor degree those of 'amity' and a 'love of reputation,' are +generally, on the right side. The legislator has to reinforce these +'tutelary motives' by 'artificial tutelary motives,' and mainly by +appealing to the 'love of ease,' that is, by making mischievous +conduct more difficult, and to 'self-preservation,' that is, by making +it more dangerous.<a name="FNanchor_403_403" id="FNanchor_403_403"></a><a href="#Footnote_403_403" class="fnanchor">[403]</a> He has therefore to measure the force by which +these motives will be opposed; or, in other words, the 'strength of +the temptation.' Now the more depraved a man's disposition, the weaker +the temptation which will seduce him to crime. Consequently if an act +shows depravity, it will require a stronger counter-motive or a more +severe punishment, as the disposition indicated is more mischievous. +An act, for example, which implies deliberation proves a greater +insensibility to these social +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +motives which, as Bentham remarks,<a name="FNanchor_404_404" id="FNanchor_404_404"></a><a href="#Footnote_404_404" class="fnanchor">[404]</a> +determine the 'general tenor of a man's life,' however depraved he may +be. The legislator is guided solely by 'utility,' or aims at +maximising happiness without reference to its quality. Still, so far +as action implies disposition, he has to consider the depravity as a +source of mischief. The legislator who looks solely at the moral +quality implied is wrong; and, if guided solely by his sympathies, has +no measure for the amount of punishment to be inflicted. These +considerations will enable us to see what is the proper measure of +resentment.<a name="FNanchor_405_405" id="FNanchor_405_405"></a><a href="#Footnote_405_405" class="fnanchor">[405]</a></p> + +<p>The doctrine of the neutrality or 'unmorality' of motive is thus +sufficiently clear. Bentham's whole aim is to urge that the criterion +of morality is given by the consequences of actions. To say the +conduct is good or bad is to say in other words that it produces a +balance of pleasure or pain. To make the criterion independent, or +escape the vicious circle, we must admit the pleasures and pains to be +in themselves neutral; to have, that is, the same value, if equally +strong, whatever their source. In our final balance-sheet we must set +down pains of illwill and of goodwill, of sense and of intellect with +absolute impartiality, and compare them simply in respect +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> of +intensity. We must not admit a 'conscience' or 'moral sense' which +would be autocratic; nor, indeed, allow moral to have any meaning as +applied to the separate passions. But it is quite consistent with this +to admit that some motives, goodwill in particular, generally tend to +bring out the desirable result, that is, a balance of pleasure for the +greatest number. The pains and pleasures are the ultimate facts, and +the 'disposition' is a 'fictitious entity' or a name for the sum of +sensibilities. It represents the fact that some men are more inclined +than others to increase the total of good or bad.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_396_396" id="Footnote_396_396"></a><a href="#FNanchor_396_396"><span class="label">[396]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 46.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_397_397" id="Footnote_397_397"></a><a href="#FNanchor_397_397"><span class="label">[397]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 48.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_398_398" id="Footnote_398_398"></a><a href="#FNanchor_398_398"><span class="label">[398]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 56.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_399_399" id="Footnote_399_399"></a><a href="#FNanchor_399_399"><span class="label">[399]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 56.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_400_400" id="Footnote_400_400"></a><a href="#FNanchor_400_400"><span class="label">[400]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 60.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_401_401" id="Footnote_401_401"></a><a href="#FNanchor_401_401"><span class="label">[401]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 62.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_402_402" id="Footnote_402_402"></a><a href="#FNanchor_402_402"><span class="label">[402]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 65.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_403_403" id="Footnote_403_403"></a><a href="#FNanchor_403_403"><span class="label">[403]</span></a> These are the two classes of 'springs of action' +omitted in the <i>Table</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_404_404" id="Footnote_404_404"></a><a href="#FNanchor_404_404"><span class="label">[404]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 68.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_405_405" id="Footnote_405_405"></a><a href="#FNanchor_405_405"><span class="label">[405]</span></a> Here Bentham lays down the rule that punishment should +rise with the strength of the temptation, a theory which leads to some +curious casuistical problems. He does not fully discuss, and I cannot +here consider, them. I will only note that it may conceivably be +necessary to increase the severity of punishment, instead of removing +the temptation or strengthening the preventive action. If so, the law +becomes immoral in the sense of punishing more severely as the crime +has more moral excuse. This was often true of the old criminal law, +which punished offences cruelly because it had no effective system of +police. Bentham would of course have agreed that the principle in this +case was a bad one.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">IV. <a name="VI_IV" id="VI_IV"></a>CRIMINAL LAW</p> + +<p>We have now, after a long analysis, reached the point at which the +principles can be applied to penal law. The legislator has to +discourage certain classes of conduct by annexing 'tutelary motives.' +The classes to be suppressed are of course those which diminish +happiness. Pursuing the same method, and applying results already +reached, we must in the first place consider how the 'mischief of an +act' is to be measured.<a name="FNanchor_406_406" id="FNanchor_406_406"></a><a href="#Footnote_406_406" class="fnanchor">[406]</a> Acts are mischievous as their +'consequences' are mischievous; and the consequences may be 'primary' +or 'secondary.' Robbery causes pain to the loser of the money. That is +a primary evil. It alarms the holders of money; it suggests the +facility of robbery to others; and it weakens the 'tutelary motive' of +respect for property. These are secondary evils. The 'secondary' evil +may be at times the most important. The non-payment of a tax may do +no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +appreciable harm in a particular case. But its secondary effects +in injuring the whole political fabric may be disastrous and fruitful +beyond calculation. Bentham proceeds to show carefully how the +'intentions' and 'motives' of the evildoer are of the greatest +importance, especially in determining these secondary consequences, +and must therefore be taken into account by the legislator. A homicide +may cause the same primary evil, whether accidental or malignant; but +accidental homicide may cause no alarm, whereas the intentional and +malignant homicide may cause any quantity of alarm and shock to the +general sense of security. In this way, therefore, the legislator has +again indirectly to take into account the moral quality which is +itself dependent upon utility.</p> + +<p>I must, however, pass lightly over a very clear and interesting +discussion to reach a further point of primary importance to the +Utilitarian theory, as to the distinction between the moral and legal +spheres.<a name="FNanchor_407_407" id="FNanchor_407_407"></a><a href="#Footnote_407_407" class="fnanchor">[407]</a> Bentham has now 'made an analysis of evil.' He has, that +is, classified the mischiefs produced by conduct, measured simply by +their effect upon pleasures or pains, independently of any +consideration as to virtue and vice. The next problem is: what conduct +should be criminal?—a subject which is virtually discussed in two +chapters (xv. and xix.) 'on cases unmeet for punishment' and on 'the +limits between Private Ethics and the act of legislation.' We must, of +course, follow the one clue to the labyrinth. We must count all the +'lots' of pain and pleasure indifferently. It is clear, on the one +hand, that the pains suffered by criminals are far less than the pains +which would be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> +suffered were no such sanctions applied. On the other +hand, all punishment is an evil, because punishment means pain, and it +is therefore only to be inflicted when it excludes greater pain. It +must, therefore, not be inflicted when it is 'groundless,' +'inefficacious,' 'unprofitable,' or 'needless.' 'Needless' includes +all the cases in which the end may be attained 'as effectually at a +cheaper rate.'<a name="FNanchor_408_408" id="FNanchor_408_408"></a><a href="#Footnote_408_408" class="fnanchor">[408]</a> This applies to all 'dissemination of pernicious +principles'; for in this case reason and not force is the appropriate +remedy. The sword inflicts more pain, and is less efficient than the +pen. The argument raises the wider question, What are the true limits +of legislative interference? Bentham, in his last chapter, endeavours +to answer this problem. 'Private ethics,' he says, and 'legislation' +aim at the same end, namely, happiness, and the 'acts with which they +are conversant are <i>in great measure</i> the same.' Why, then, should +they have different spheres? Simply because the acts 'are not +<i>perfectly and throughout</i> the same.'<a name="FNanchor_409_409" id="FNanchor_409_409"></a><a href="#Footnote_409_409" class="fnanchor">[409]</a> How, then, are we to draw +the line? By following the invariable clue of 'utility.' We simply +have to apply an analysis to determine the cases in which punishment +does more harm than good. He insists especially upon the cases in +which punishment is 'unprofitable'; upon such offences as drunkenness +and sexual immorality, where the law could only be enforced by a +mischievous or impossible system of minute supervision, and such +offences as ingratitude or rudeness, where the definition is so vague +that the judge could not safely be entrusted with the power to +punish.'<a name="FNanchor_410_410" id="FNanchor_410_410"></a><a href="#Footnote_410_410" class="fnanchor">[410]</a> He endeavours to give a rather more precise distinction +by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +subdividing 'ethics in general' into three classes. Duty may be to +oneself, that is 'prudence'; or to one's neighbour negatively, that is +'probity'; or to one's neighbour positively, that is +'benevolence.'<a name="FNanchor_411_411" id="FNanchor_411_411"></a><a href="#Footnote_411_411" class="fnanchor">[411]</a> Duties of the first class must be left chiefly to +the individual, because he is the best judge of his own interest. +Duties of the third class again are generally too vague to be enforced +by the legislator, though a man ought perhaps to be punished for +failing to help as well as for actually injuring. The second +department of ethics, that of 'probity,' is the main field for +legislative activity.<a name="FNanchor_412_412" id="FNanchor_412_412"></a><a href="#Footnote_412_412" class="fnanchor">[412]</a> As a general principle, 'private ethics' +teach a man how to pursue his own happiness, and the art of +legislation how to pursue the greatest happiness of the community. It +must be noticed, for the point is one of importance, that Bentham's +purely empirical method draws no definite line. It implies that no +definite line can be drawn. It does not suggest that any kind of +conduct whatever is outside the proper province of legislator except +in so far as the legislative machinery may happen to be inadequate or +inappropriate.</p> + +<p>Our analysis has now been carried so far that we can proceed to +consider the principles by which we should be guided in punishing. +What are the desirable properties of a 'lot of punishment'? This +occupies two interesting chapters. Chapter xvi., 'on the proportion +between punishments and offences,' gives twelve rules. The punishment, +he urges, must outweigh the profit of the offence; it must be such as +to make a man prefer a less offence to a greater—simple theft, for +example, to violent robbery; it must be such that the punishment must +be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +adaptable to the varying sensibility of the offender; it must be +greater in 'value' as it falls short of certainty; and, when the +offence indicates a habit, it must outweigh not only the profit of the +particular offence, but of the undetected offences. In chapter xvii. +Bentham considers the properties which fit a punishment to fulfil +these conditions. Eleven properties are given. The punishment must be +(1) 'variable,' that is, capable of adjustment to particular cases; +and (2) equable, or inflicting equal pain by equal sentences. Thus the +'proportion' between punishment and crimes of a given class can be +secured. In order that the punishments of different classes of crime +may be proportional, the punishments should (3) be commensurable. To +make punishments efficacious they should be (4) 'characteristical' or +impressive to the imagination; and that they may not be excessive they +should be (5) exemplary or likely to impress others, and (6) frugal. +To secure minor ends they should be (7) reformatory; (8) disabling, +<i>i.e.</i> from future offences; and (9) compensatory to the sufferer. +Finally, to avoid collateral disadvantages they should be (10) +popular, and (11) remittable. A twelfth property, simplicity, was +added in Dumont's redaction. Dumont calls attention here to the value +of Bentham's method.<a name="FNanchor_413_413" id="FNanchor_413_413"></a><a href="#Footnote_413_413" class="fnanchor">[413]</a> Montesquieu and Beccaria had spoken in +general terms of the desirable qualities of punishment. They had +spoken of 'proportionality,' for example, but without that precise or +definite meaning which appears in Bentham's Calculus. In fact, +Bentham's statement, compared to the vaguer utterances of his +predecessors, but still more when compared to the haphazard +brutalities and inconsistencies of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +English criminal law, gives the +best impression of the value of his method.</p> + +<p>Bentham's next step is an elaborate classification of offences, worked +out by a further application of his bifurcatory method.<a name="FNanchor_414_414" id="FNanchor_414_414"></a><a href="#Footnote_414_414" class="fnanchor">[414]</a> This +would form the groundwork of the projected code. I cannot, however, +speak of this classification, or of many interesting remarks contained +in the <i>Principles of Penal Law</i>, where some further details are +considered. An analysis scarcely does justice to Bentham, for it has +to omit his illustrations and his flashes of real vivacity. The mere +dry logical framework is not appetising. I have gone so far in order +to illustrate the characteristic of Bentham's teaching. It was not the +bare appeal to utility, but the attempt to follow the clue of utility +systematically and unflinchingly into every part of the subject. This +one doctrine gives the touchstone by which every proposed measure is +to be tested; and which will give to his system not such unity as +arises from the development of an abstract logical principle, but such +as is introduced into the physical sciences when we are able to range +all the indefinitely complex phenomena which arise under some simple +law of force. If Bentham's aim could have been achieved, 'utility' +would have been in legislative theories what gravitation is in +astronomical theories. All human conduct being ruled by pain and +pleasure, we could compare all motives and actions, and trace out the +consequences of any given law. I shall have hereafter to consider how +this conception worked in different minds and was applied to different +problems: what were the tenable results to which it led, and what +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +were the errors caused by the implied oversight of some essential +considerations.</p> + +<p>Certain weaknesses are almost too obvious to be specified. He claimed +to be constructing a science, comparable to the physical sciences. The +attempt was obviously chimerical if we are to take it seriously. The +makeshift doctrine which he substitutes for psychology would be a +sufficient proof of the incapacity for his task. He had probably not +read such writers as Hartley or Condillac, who might have suggested +some ostensibly systematic theory. If he had little psychology he had +not even a conception of 'sociology.' The 'felicific calculus' is +enough to show the inadequacy of his method. The purpose is to enable +us to calculate the effects of a proposed law. You propose to send +robbers to the gallows or the gaol. You must, says Bentham, reckon up +all the evils prevented: the suffering to the robbed, and to those who +expect to be robbed, on the one hand; and, on the other, the evils +caused, the suffering to the robber, and to the tax-payer who keeps +the constable; then strike your balance and make your law if the evils +prevented exceed the evils caused. Some such calculation is demanded +by plain common sense. It points to the line of inquiry desirable. But +can it be adequate? To estimate the utility of a law we must take into +account all its 'effects.' What are the 'effects' of a law against +robbery? They are all that is implied in the security of property. +They correspond to the difference between England in the eighteenth +century and England in the time of Hengist and Horsa; between a +country where the supremacy of law is established, and a country still +under the rule of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +strong hand. Bentham's method may be applicable +at a given moment, when the social structure is already consolidated +and uniform. It would represent the practical arguments for +establishing the police-force demanded by Colquhoun, and show the +disadvantages of the old constables and watchmen. Bentham, that is, +gives an admirable method for settling details of administrative and +legislative machinery, and dealing with particular cases when once the +main principles of law and order are established. Those principles, +too, may depend upon 'utility,' but utility must be taken in a wider +sense when we have to deal with the fundamental questions. We must +consider the 'utility' of the whole organisation, not the fitness of +separate details. Finally, if Bentham is weak in psychology and in +sociology, he is clearly not satisfactory in ethics. Morality is, +according to him, on the same plane with law. The difference is not in +the sphere to which they apply, or in the end to which they are +directed; but solely in the 'sanction.' The legislator uses threats of +physical suffering; the moralist threats of 'popular' disapproval. +Either 'sanction' may be most applicable to a given case; but the +question is merely between different means to the same end under +varying conditions. This implies the 'external' character of Bentham's +morality, and explains his insistence upon the neutrality of motives. +He takes the average man to be a compound of certain instincts, and +merely seeks to regulate their action by supplying 'artificial +tutelary motives.' The 'man' is given; the play of his instincts, +separately neutral, makes his conduct more or less favourable to +general happiness; and the moralist and the legislator have both to +correct<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +his deviations by supplying appropriate 'sanctions.' Bentham, +therefore, is inclined to ignore the intrinsic character of morality, +or the dependence of a man's morality upon the essential structure of +his nature. He thinks of the superficial play of forces, not of their +intimate constitution. The man is not to be changed in either case; +only his circumstances. Such defects no doubt diminish the value of +Bentham's work. Yet, after all, in his own sphere they are trifles. He +did very well without philosophy. However imperfect his system might +be considered as a science or an ultimate explanation of society and +human nature, it was very much to the point as an expression of +downright common sense. Dumont's eulogy seems to be fully deserved, +when we contrast Bentham's theory of punishment with the theories (if +they deserve the name) of contemporary legislators. His method +involved a thoroughgoing examination of the whole body of laws, and a +resolution to apply a searching test to every law. If that test was +not so unequivocal or ultimate as he fancied, it yet implied the +constant application of such considerations as must always carry +weight, and, perhaps, be always the dominant considerations, with the +actual legislator or jurist. What is the use of you? is a question +which may fairly be put to every institution and to every law; and it +concerns legislators to find some answer, even though the meaning of +the word 'use' is not so clear as we could wish.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_406_406" id="Footnote_406_406"></a><a href="#FNanchor_406_406"><span class="label">[406]</span></a> <i>Morals and Legislation</i>, ch. xii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_407_407" id="Footnote_407_407"></a><a href="#FNanchor_407_407"><span class="label">[407]</span></a> <i>Morals and Legislation</i>, ch. xiv. (a chapter inserted +from Dumont's <i>Traités</i>).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_408_408" id="Footnote_408_408"></a><a href="#FNanchor_408_408"><span class="label">[408]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. p. 86.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_409_409" id="Footnote_409_409"></a><a href="#FNanchor_409_409"><span class="label">[409]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 144.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_410_410" id="Footnote_410_410"></a><a href="#FNanchor_410_410"><span class="label">[410]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 145.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_411_411" id="Footnote_411_411"></a><a href="#FNanchor_411_411"><span class="label">[411]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 143.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_412_412" id="Footnote_412_412"></a><a href="#FNanchor_412_412"><span class="label">[412]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 147-48.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_413_413" id="Footnote_413_413"></a><a href="#FNanchor_413_413"><span class="label">[413]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i 406 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_414_414" id="Footnote_414_414"></a><a href="#FNanchor_414_414"><span class="label">[414]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Morals and Legislation'), i. 96 <i>n.</i></p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">V. <a name="VI_V" id="VI_V"></a>ENGLISH LAW</p> + +<p>The practical value of Bentham's method is perhaps best illustrated by +his <i>Rationale of Evidence</i>. The composition of the papers ultimately +put together by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> +J. S. Mill had occupied Bentham from 1802 to 1812. +The changed style is significant. Nobody could write more pointedly, +or with happier illustrations, than Bentham in his earlier years. He +afterwards came to think that a didactic treatise should sacrifice +every other virtue to fulness and precision. To make a sentence +precise, every qualifying clause must be somehow forced into the +original formula. Still more characteristic is his application of what +he calls the 'substantive-preferring principle.'<a name="FNanchor_415_415" id="FNanchor_415_415"></a><a href="#Footnote_415_415" class="fnanchor">[415]</a> He would rather +say, 'I give extension to an object,' than 'I extend an object.' Where +a substantive is employed, the idea is 'stationed upon a rock'; if +only a verb, the idea is 'like a leaf floating on a stream.' A verb, +he said,<a name="FNanchor_416_416" id="FNanchor_416_416"></a><a href="#Footnote_416_416" class="fnanchor">[416]</a> 'slips through your fingers like an eel.' The principle +corresponds to his 'metaphysics.' The universe of thought is made up +of a number of separate 'entities' corresponding to nouns-substantive, +and when these bundles are distinctly isolated by appropriate nouns, +the process of arranging and codifying according to the simple +relations indicated by the copula is greatly facilitated. The ideal +language would resemble algebra, in which symbols, each representing a +given numerical value, are connected by the smallest possible number +of symbols of operation, +, -, =, and so forth. To set two such +statements side by side, or to modify them by inserting different +constants, is then a comparatively easy process, capable of being +regulated by simple general rules. Bentham's style becomes tiresome, +and was often improperly called obscure. It requires attention, but +the meaning is never +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +doubtful—and to the end we have frequent +flashes of the old vivacity.</p> + +<p>The <i>Rationale of Evidence</i>, as Mill remarks,<a name="FNanchor_417_417" id="FNanchor_417_417"></a><a href="#Footnote_417_417" class="fnanchor">[417]</a> is 'one of the +richest in matter of all Bentham's productions.' It contains, too, +many passages in Bentham's earlier style, judiciously preserved by his +young editor; indeed, so many that I am tempted even to call the book +amusing. In spite of the wearisome effort to say everything, and to +force language into the mould presented by his theory, Bentham +attracts us by his obvious sincerity. The arguments may be +unsatisfactory, but they are genuine arguments. They represent +conviction; they are given because they have convinced; and no reader +can deny that they really tend to convince. We may complain that there +are too many words, and that the sentences are cumbrous; but the +substance is always to the point. The main purpose may be very briefly +indicated. Bentham begins by general considerations upon evidence, in +which he and his youthful editor indicate their general adherence to +the doctrines of Hume.<a name="FNanchor_418_418" id="FNanchor_418_418"></a><a href="#Footnote_418_418" class="fnanchor">[418]</a> This leads to an application of the +methods expounded in the 'Introduction,' in order to show how the +various motives or 'springs of action' and the 'sanctions' based upon +them may affect the trustworthiness of evidence. Any motive whatever +may incidentally cause 'mendacity.' The second book, therefore, +considers what securities may be taken for 'securing trustworthiness.' +We have, for example, a discussion of the value of oaths (he thinks +them valueless), of the advantages and disadvantages of reducing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +evidence to writing, of interrogating witnesses, and of the publicity +or privacy of evidence. Book iii. deals with the 'extraction of +evidence.' We have to compare the relative advantages of oral and +written evidence, the rules for cross-examining witnesses and for +taking evidence as to their character. Book iv. deals with +'pre-appointed evidence,' the cases, that is, in which events are +recorded at the time of occurrence with a view to their subsequent use +as evidence. We have under this head to consider the formalities which +should be required in regard to contracts and wills; and the mode of +recording judicial and other official decisions and registering +births, deaths, and marriages. In Books v. and vi. we consider two +kinds of evidence which is in one way or other of inferior cogency, +namely, 'circumstantial evidence,' in which the evidence if accepted +still leaves room for a process of more or less doubtful inference; +and 'makeshift evidence,' such evidence as must sometimes be accepted +for want of the best, of which the most conspicuous instance is +'hearsay evidence.' Book vii. deals with the 'authentication' of +evidence. Book viii. is a consideration of the 'technical' system, +that namely which was accepted by English lawyers; and finally Book +ix. deals with a special point, namely, the exclusion of evidence. +Bentham announces at starting<a name="FNanchor_419_419" id="FNanchor_419_419"></a><a href="#Footnote_419_419" class="fnanchor">[419]</a> that he shall establish 'one +theorem' and consider two problems. The problems are: 'what securities +can be taken for the truth of evidence?' and 'what rules can be given +for estimating the value of evidence?' The 'theorem' is that no +evidence should be excluded with the professed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +intention of obtaining +a right decision; though some must be excluded to avoid expense, +vexation, and delay. This, therefore, as his most distinct moral, is +fully treated in the last book.</p> + +<p>Had Bentham confined himself to a pithy statement of his leading +doctrines, and confirmed them by a few typical cases, he would have +been more effective in a literary sense. His passion for +'codification,' for tabulating and arranging facts in all their +complexity, and for applying his doctrine at full length to every case +that he can imagine, makes him terribly prolix. On the other hand, +this process no doubt strengthened his own conviction and the +conviction of his disciples as to the value of his process. Follow +this clue of utility throughout the whole labyrinth, see what a clear +answer it offers at every point, and you cannot doubt that you are in +possession of the true compass for such a navigation. Indeed, it seems +to be indisputable that Bentham's arguments are the really relevant +and important arguments. How can we decide any of the points which +come up for discussion? Should a witness be cross-examined? Should his +evidence be recorded? Should a wife be allowed to give evidence +against her husband? or the defendant to give evidence about his own +case? These and innumerable other points can only be decided by +reference to what Bentham understood by 'utility.' This or that +arrangement is 'useful' because it enables us to get quickly and +easily at the evidence, to take effective securities for its +truthfulness, to estimate its relevance and importance, to leave the +decision to the most qualified persons, and so forth. These points, +again, can only be decided by a careful appeal to experience, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +and by +endeavouring to understand the ordinary play of 'motives' and +'sanctions.' What generally makes a man lie, and how is lying to be +made unpleasant? By rigorously fixing our minds at every point on such +issues, we find that many questions admit of very plain answers, and +are surprised to discover what a mass of obscurity has been dispelled. +It is, however, true that although the value of the method can hardly +be denied unless we deny the value of all experience and common sense, +we may dispute the degree in which it confirms the general principle. +Every step seems to Bentham to reflect additional light upon his +primary axiom. Yet it is possible to hold that witnesses should be +encouraged to speak the truth, and that experience may help us to +discover the best means to that end without, therefore, admitting the +unique validity of the 'greatest happiness' principle. That principle, +so far as true, may be itself a deduction from some higher principle; +and no philosopher of any school would deny that 'utility' should be +in some way consulted by the legislator.</p> + +<p>The book illustrates the next critical point in Bentham's system—the +transition from law to politics. He was writing the book at the period +when the failure of the Panopticon was calling his attention to the +wickedness of George <small>III.</small> and Lord Eldon, and when the English demand +for parliamentary reform was reviving and supplying him with a +sympathetic audience. Now, in examining the theory of evidence upon +the plan described, Bentham found himself at every stage in conflict +with the existing system, or rather the existing chaos of +unintelligible rules. English lawyers, he discovered, had worked out a +system of rules for excluding evidence. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +Sometimes the cause was pure +indolence. 'This man, were I to hear him,' says the English judge, +'would come out with a parcel of lies. It would be a plague to hear +him: I have heard enough already; shut the door in his face.'<a name="FNanchor_420_420" id="FNanchor_420_420"></a><a href="#Footnote_420_420" class="fnanchor">[420]</a> +But, as Bentham shows with elaborate detail, a reason for suspecting +evidence is not a reason for excluding it. A convicted perjurer gives +evidence, and has a pecuniary interest in the result. That is +excellent ground for caution; but the fact that the man makes a +certain statement may still be a help to the ascertainment of truth. +Why should that help be rejected? Bentham scarcely admits of any +exception to the general rule of taking any evidence you can get—one +exception being the rather curious one of confession to a Catholic +priest; secrecy in such cases is on the whole, he thinks, useful. He +exposes the confusion implied in an exclusion of evidence because it +is not fully trustworthy, which is equivalent to working in the dark +because a partial light may deceive. But this is only a part of a +whole system of arbitrary, inconsistent, and technical rules worked +out by the ingenuity of lawyers. Besides the direct injury they gave +endless opportunity for skilful manœuvring to exclude or admit +evidence by adopting different forms of procedure. Rules had been made +by judges as they were wanted and precedents established of +contradictory tendency and uncertain application. Bentham contrasts +the simplicity of the rules deducible from 'utility' with the amazing +complexity of the traditional code of technical rules. Under the +'natural' system, that of utility, you have to deal with a quarrel +between your servants or children. You +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +send at once for the +disputants, confront them, take any relevant evidence, and make up +your mind as to the rights of the dispute. In certain cases this +'natural' procedure has been retained, as, for example, in +courts-martial, where rapid decision was necessary. Had the technical +system prevailed, the country would have been ruined in six +weeks.<a name="FNanchor_421_421" id="FNanchor_421_421"></a><a href="#Footnote_421_421" class="fnanchor">[421]</a> But the exposure of the technical system requires an +elaborate display of intricate methods involving at every step +vexation, delay, and injustice. Bentham reckons up nineteen separate +devices employed by the courts. He describes the elaborate processes +which had to be gone through before a hearing could be obtained; the +distance of courts from the litigants; the bandying of cases from +court to court; the chicaneries about giving notice; the frequent +nullification of all that had been done on account of some technical +flaw; the unintelligible jargon of Latin and Law-French which veiled +the proceedings from the public; the elaborate mysteries of 'special +pleading'; the conflict of jurisdictions, and the manufacture of new +'pleas' and new technical rules; the 'entanglement of jurisdictions,' +and especially the distinction between law and equity, which had made +confusion doubly confounded. English law had become a mere jungle of +unintelligible distinctions, contradictions, and cumbrous methods +through which no man could find his way without the guidance of the +initiated, and in which a long purse and unscrupulous trickery gave +the advantage over the poor to the rich, and to the knave over the +honest man. One fruitful source of all these evils was the +'judge-made' law, which Bentham henceforth never ceased to denounce. +His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> +ideal was a distinct code which, when change was required, should +be changed by an avowed and intelligible process. The chaos which had +grown up was the natural result of the gradual development of a +traditional body of law, in which new cases were met under cover of +applying precedents from previous decisions, with the help of +reference to the vague body of unwritten or 'common law,' and of legal +fictions permitting some non-natural interpretation of the old +formulæ. It is the judges, he had already said in 1792,<a name="FNanchor_422_422" id="FNanchor_422_422"></a><a href="#Footnote_422_422" class="fnanchor">[422]</a> 'that +make the common law. Do you know how they make it? Just as a man makes +laws for his dog. When your dog does anything you want to break him +of, you wait till he does it and then beat him. This is the way you +make laws for your dog, and this is the way the judges make laws for +you and me.' The 'tyranny of judge-made law' is 'the most +all-comprehensive, most grinding, and most crying of all +grievances,'<a name="FNanchor_423_423" id="FNanchor_423_423"></a><a href="#Footnote_423_423" class="fnanchor">[423]</a> and is scarcely less bad than 'priest-made +religion.'<a name="FNanchor_424_424" id="FNanchor_424_424"></a><a href="#Footnote_424_424" class="fnanchor">[424]</a> Legal fictions, according to him, are simply lies. The +permission to use them is a 'mendacity licence.' In 'Rome-bred law ... +fiction' is a 'wart which here and there disfigures the face of +justice. In English law fiction is a syphilis which runs into every +vein and carries into every part of the system the principle of +rottenness.'<a name="FNanchor_425_425" id="FNanchor_425_425"></a><a href="#Footnote_425_425" class="fnanchor">[425]</a></p> + +<p>The evils denounced by Bentham were monstrous. The completeness of the +exposure was his great merit; and his reputation has suffered, as we +are told on competent authority, by the very efficiency of his attack. +The worst evils are so much things of the past, that we +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +forget the +extent of the evil and the merits of its assailant. Bentham's +diagnosis of the evil explains his later attitude. He attributes all +the abuses to consciously corrupt motives even where a sufficient +explanation can be found in the human stupidity and honest incapacity +to look outside of traditional ways of thought. He admits, indeed, the +personal purity of English judges. No English judge had ever received +a bribe within living memory.<a name="FNanchor_426_426" id="FNanchor_426_426"></a><a href="#Footnote_426_426" class="fnanchor">[426]</a> But this, he urges, is only because +the judges find it more profitable as well as safer to carry out a +radically corrupt system. A synonym for 'technical' is +'fee-gathering.' Lawyers of all classes had a common interest in +multiplying suits and complicating procedure: and thus a tacit +partnership had grown up which he describes as 'Judge and Co.' He +gives statistics showing that in the year 1797 five hundred and +forty-three out of five hundred and fifty 'writs of error' were +'shams,' or simply vexatious contrivances for delay, and brought a +profit to the Chief Justice of over £1400.<a name="FNanchor_427_427" id="FNanchor_427_427"></a><a href="#Footnote_427_427" class="fnanchor">[427]</a> Lord Eldon was always +before him as the typical representative of obstruction and +obscurantism. In his <i>Indications respecting Lord Eldon</i> (1825) he +goes into details which it must have required some courage to publish. +Under Eldon, he says, 'equity has become an instrument of fraud and +extortion.'<a name="FNanchor_428_428" id="FNanchor_428_428"></a><a href="#Footnote_428_428" class="fnanchor">[428]</a> He details the proceedings by which Eldon obtained +the sanction of parliament for a system of fee-taking, which he had +admitted to be illegal, and which had been denounced by an eminent +solicitor as leading to gross corruption. Bentham intimates that the +Masters in Chancery were 'swindlers,'<a name="FNanchor_429_429" id="FNanchor_429_429"></a><a href="#Footnote_429_429" class="fnanchor">[429]</a> and that Eldon was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +knowingly the protector and sharer of their profits. Romilly, who had +called the Court of Chancery 'a disgrace to a civilised nation,' had +said that Eldon was the cause of many of the abuses, and could have +reformed most of the others. Erskine had declared that if there was a +hell, the Court of Chancery was hell.<a name="FNanchor_430_430" id="FNanchor_430_430"></a><a href="#Footnote_430_430" class="fnanchor">[430]</a> Eldon, as Bentham himself +thought, was worse than Jeffreys. Eldon's victims had died a lingering +death, and the persecutor had made money out of their sufferings. +Jeffreys was openly brutal; while Eldon covered his tyranny under the +'most accomplished indifference.'<a name="FNanchor_431_431" id="FNanchor_431_431"></a><a href="#Footnote_431_431" class="fnanchor">[431]</a></p> + +<p>Yet Eldon was but the head of a band. Judges, barristers, and +solicitors were alike. The most hopeless of reforms would be to raise +a 'thorough-paced English lawyer' to the moral level of an average +man.<a name="FNanchor_432_432" id="FNanchor_432_432"></a><a href="#Footnote_432_432" class="fnanchor">[432]</a> To attack legal abuses was to attack a class combined under +its chiefs, capable of hoodwinking parliament and suppressing open +criticism. The slave-traders whom Wilberforce attacked were +comparatively a powerless excrescence. The legal profession was in the +closest relations to the monarchy, the aristocracy, and the whole +privileged and wealthy class. They were welded into a solid 'ring.' +The king, and his ministers who distributed places and pensions; the +borough-mongers who sold votes for power; the clergy who looked for +bishoprics; the monied men who aspired to rank and power, were all +parts of a league. It was easy enough to talk of law reform. Romilly +had proposed and even carried a 'reformatiuncle' or two;<a name="FNanchor_433_433" id="FNanchor_433_433"></a><a href="#Footnote_433_433" class="fnanchor">[433]</a> but to +achieve a serious success required not victory in a skirmish or two, +not the exposure of some abuse too palpable to be openly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> defended +even by an Eldon, but a prolonged war against an organised army +fortified and entrenched in the very heart of the country.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_415_415" id="Footnote_415_415"></a><a href="#FNanchor_415_415"><span class="label">[415]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, iii. 267.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_416_416" id="Footnote_416_416"></a><a href="#FNanchor_416_416"><span class="label">[416]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> x. 569</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_417_417" id="Footnote_417_417"></a><a href="#FNanchor_417_417"><span class="label">[417]</span></a> <i>Autobiography</i>, p. 116.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_418_418" id="Footnote_418_418"></a><a href="#FNanchor_418_418"><span class="label">[418]</span></a> The subject is again treated in Book v. on +'Circumstantial Evidence.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_419_419" id="Footnote_419_419"></a><a href="#FNanchor_419_419"><span class="label">[419]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vi. 204.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_420_420" id="Footnote_420_420"></a><a href="#FNanchor_420_420"><span class="label">[420]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vii. 391.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_421_421" id="Footnote_421_421"></a><a href="#FNanchor_421_421"><span class="label">[421]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vii. 321-25. Court-martials are hardly a happy +example now.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_422_422" id="Footnote_422_422"></a><a href="#FNanchor_422_422"><span class="label">[422]</span></a> 'Truth <i>v.</i> Ashhurst' (1792), <i>Works</i>, v. 235.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_423_423" id="Footnote_423_423"></a><a href="#FNanchor_423_423"><span class="label">[423]</span></a> <i>Works</i> ('Codification Petition'), v. 442.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_424_424" id="Footnote_424_424"></a><a href="#FNanchor_424_424"><span class="label">[424]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vi. 11.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_425_425" id="Footnote_425_425"></a><a href="#FNanchor_425_425"><span class="label">[425]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 92.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_426_426" id="Footnote_426_426"></a><a href="#FNanchor_426_426"><span class="label">[426]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, vii. 204, 331; ix. 143.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_427_427" id="Footnote_427_427"></a><a href="#FNanchor_427_427"><span class="label">[427]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vii. 214.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_428_428" id="Footnote_428_428"></a><a href="#FNanchor_428_428"><span class="label">[428]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 349.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_429_429" id="Footnote_429_429"></a><a href="#FNanchor_429_429"><span class="label">[429]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 364.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_430_430" id="Footnote_430_430"></a><a href="#FNanchor_430_430"><span class="label">[430]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, v. 371.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_431_431" id="Footnote_431_431"></a><a href="#FNanchor_431_431"><span class="label">[431]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 375.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_432_432" id="Footnote_432_432"></a><a href="#FNanchor_432_432"><span class="label">[432]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> vii. 188.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_433_433" id="Footnote_433_433"></a><a href="#FNanchor_433_433"><span class="label">[433]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> v. 370.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">VI. <a name="VI_VI" id="VI_VI"></a>RADICALISM</p> + +<p>Thus Bentham, as his eyes were opened, became a Radical. The political +purpose became dominant, although we always see that the legal abuses +are uppermost in his mind; and that what he really seeks is a fulcrum +for the machinery which is to overthrow Lord Eldon. Some of the +pamphlets deal directly with the special instruments of corruption. +The <i>Elements of the Art of Packing</i> shows how the crown managed to +have a permanent body of special 'jurors' at its disposal. The 'grand +and paramount use'<a name="FNanchor_434_434" id="FNanchor_434_434"></a><a href="#Footnote_434_434" class="fnanchor">[434]</a> of this system was to crush the liberty of the +press. The obscure law of libel, worked by judges in the interest of +the government, enabled them to punish any rash Radical for 'hurting +the feelings' of the ruling classes, and to evade responsibility by +help of a 'covertly pensioned' and servile jury. The pamphlet, though +tiresomely minute and long-winded, contained too much pointed truth to +be published at the time. The <i>Official Aptitude minimised</i> contains a +series of attacks upon the system of patronage and pensions by which +the machinery of government was practically worked. In the <i>Catechism</i> +of reformers, written in 1809, Bentham began the direct application of +his theories to the constitution; and the final and most elaborate +exposition of these forms the <i>Constitutional Code</i>, which was the +main work of his later years. This +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +book excited the warmest +admiration of Bentham's disciples.<a name="FNanchor_435_435" id="FNanchor_435_435"></a><a href="#Footnote_435_435" class="fnanchor">[435]</a> J. S. Mill speaks of its +'extraordinary power ... of at once seizing comprehensive principles +and scheming out minute details,' and of its 'surpassing intellectual +vigour.' Nor, indeed, will any one be disposed to deny that it is a +singular proof of intellectual activity, when we remember that it was +begun when the author was over seventy, and that he was still working +at eighty-four.<a name="FNanchor_436_436" id="FNanchor_436_436"></a><a href="#Footnote_436_436" class="fnanchor">[436]</a> In this book Bentham's peculiarities of style +reach their highest development, and it cannot be recommended as light +reading. Had Bentham been a mystical philosopher, he would, we may +conjecture, have achieved a masterpiece of unintelligibility which all +his followers would have extolled as containing the very essence of +his teaching. His method condemned him to be always intelligible, +however crabbed and elaborate. Perhaps, however, the point which +strikes one most is the amazing simple-mindedness of the whole +proceeding. Bentham's light-hearted indifference to the distinction +between paper constitutions and operative rules of conduct becomes +almost pathetic.</p> + +<p>Bentham was clearly the victim of a common delusion. If a system will +work, the minutest details can be exhibited. Therefore, it is +inferred, an exhibition of minute detail proves that it will work. +Unfortunately, the philosophers of Laputa would have had no more +difficulty in filling up details than the legislators of England or +the United States. When Bentham had settled in his 'Radical +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> Reform +Bill'<a name="FNanchor_437_437" id="FNanchor_437_437"></a><a href="#Footnote_437_437" class="fnanchor">[437]</a> that the 'voting-box' was to be a double cube of cast-iron, +with a slit in the lid, into which cards two inches by one, white on +one side and black on the other, could be inserted, he must have felt +that he had got very near to actual application: he can picture the +whole operation and nobody can say that the scheme is impracticable +for want of working plans of the machinery. There will, doubtless, be +no difficulty in settling the shape of the boxes, when we have once +agreed to have the ballot. But a discussion of such remote details of +Utopia is of incomparably less real interest than the discussion in +the <i>Rationale of Evidence</i> of points, which, however minute, were +occurring every day, and which were really in urgent need of the light +of common sense.</p> + +<p>Bentham's general principles may be very simply stated. They are, in +fact, such as were suggested by his view of legal grievances. Why, +when he had demonstrated that certain measures would contribute to the +'greatest happiness of the greatest number,' were they not at once +adopted? Because the rulers did not desire the greatest happiness of +the greatest number. This, in Bentham's language, is to say that they +were governed by a 'sinister interest.' Their interest was that of +their class, not that of the nation; they aimed at the greatest +happiness of some, not at the greatest happiness of all. A +generalisation of this remark gives us the first axioms of all +government. There are two primary principles: the 'self-preference' +principle, in virtue of which every man always desires his own +greatest happiness'; and the 'greatest happiness' principle, in virtue +of which 'the right and proper end' of government is the 'greatest +happiness of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> +the greatest number.'<a name="FNanchor_438_438" id="FNanchor_438_438"></a><a href="#Footnote_438_438" class="fnanchor">[438]</a> The 'actual end' of every +government, again, is the greatest happiness of the governors. Hence +the whole problem is to produce a coincidence of the two ends, by +securing an identity of interest between governors and governed. To +secure that we have only to identify the two classes or to put the +government in the hands of all.<a name="FNanchor_439_439" id="FNanchor_439_439"></a><a href="#Footnote_439_439" class="fnanchor">[439]</a> In a monarchy, the ruler aims at +the interest of one—himself; in a 'limited monarchy' the aim is at +the happiness of the king and the small privileged class; in a +democracy, the end is the right one—the greatest happiness of the +greatest number. This is a short cut to all constitutional questions. +Probably it has occurred in substance to most youthful members of +debating societies. Bentham's confidence in his logic lifts him above +any appeal to experience; and he occasionally reminds us of the proof +given in <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i> that the queen must live in the Tower of +London. The 'monarch,' as he observes,<a name="FNanchor_440_440" id="FNanchor_440_440"></a><a href="#Footnote_440_440" class="fnanchor">[440]</a> 'is naturally the very +worst—the most maleficent member of the whole community.' Wherever an +aristocracy differs from the democracy, their judgment will be +erroneous.<a name="FNanchor_441_441" id="FNanchor_441_441"></a><a href="#Footnote_441_441" class="fnanchor">[441]</a> The people will naturally choose 'morally apt agents,' +and men who wish to be chosen will desire truly to become 'morally +apt,' for they can only recommend themselves by showing their desire +to serve the general interest.<a name="FNanchor_442_442" id="FNanchor_442_442"></a><a href="#Footnote_442_442" class="fnanchor">[442]</a> 'All experience testifies to this +theory,' though the evidence is 'too bulky' to be given. Other +proofs,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +however, may at once be rendered superfluous by appealing to +'the uninterrupted and most notorious experience of the United +States.'<a name="FNanchor_443_443" id="FNanchor_443_443"></a><a href="#Footnote_443_443" class="fnanchor">[443]</a> To that happy country he often appeals indeed<a name="FNanchor_444_444" id="FNanchor_444_444"></a><a href="#Footnote_444_444" class="fnanchor">[444]</a> as a +model government. In it, there is no corruption, no useless +expenditure, none of the evils illustrated by our 'matchless +constitution.'</p> + +<p>The constitution deduced from these principles has at least the merit +of simplicity. We are to have universal suffrage, annual parliaments, +and vote by ballot. He inclines to give a vote to women.<a name="FNanchor_445_445" id="FNanchor_445_445"></a><a href="#Footnote_445_445" class="fnanchor">[445]</a> There is +to be no king, no house of peers, no established church. Members of +parliament are not to be re-eligible, till after an interval. +Elaborate rules provide for their regular attendance and exclusive +devotion to their masters' business. They are to be simply 'deputies,' +not 'representatives.' They elect a prime minister who holds office +for four years. Officials are to be appointed by a complex plan of +competitive examination; and they are to be invited to send in tenders +for doing the work at diminished salary. When once in office, every +care is taken for their continual inspection by the public and the +verification of their accounts. They are never for an instant to +forget that they are servants, not the masters, of the public.</p> + +<p>Bentham, of course, is especially minute and careful in regard to the +judicial organisation—a subject upon which he wrote much, and much to +the purpose. The functions and fees of advocates are to be narrowly +restricted, and advocates to be provided gratuitously for the poor. +They are not to become judges: to make a barrister a judge is as +sensible as it would be to select +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +a procuress for mistress of a +girls' school.<a name="FNanchor_446_446" id="FNanchor_446_446"></a><a href="#Footnote_446_446" class="fnanchor">[446]</a> Judges should be everywhere accessible: always on +duty, too busy to have time for corruption, and always under public +supervision. One characteristic device is his quasi-jury. The English +system of requiring unanimity was equivalent to enforcing perjury by +torture. Its utility as a means of resisting tyranny would disappear +when tyranny had become impossible. But public opinion might be +usefully represented by a 'quasi-jury' of three or five, who should +not pronounce a verdict, but watch the judge, interrogate, if +necessary, and in case of need demand a rehearing. Judges, of course, +were no longer to make law, but to propose amendments in the +'Pannomion' or universal code, when new cases arose.</p> + +<p>His leading principle may be described in one word as +'responsibility,' or expressed in his leading rule, 'Minimise +Confidence.'<a name="FNanchor_447_447" id="FNanchor_447_447"></a><a href="#Footnote_447_447" class="fnanchor">[447]</a> 'All government is in itself one vast evil.'<a name="FNanchor_448_448" id="FNanchor_448_448"></a><a href="#Footnote_448_448" class="fnanchor">[448]</a> It +consists in applying evil to exclude worse evil. Even 'to reward is to +punish,'<a name="FNanchor_449_449" id="FNanchor_449_449"></a><a href="#Footnote_449_449" class="fnanchor">[449]</a> when reward is given by government. The less government, +then, the better; but as governors are a necessary evil, they must be +limited by every possible device to the sole legitimate aim, and +watched at every turn by the all-seeing eye of public opinion. Every +one must admit that this is an application of a sound principle, and +that one condition of good government is the diffusion of universal +responsibility. It must be admitted, too, that Bentham's theory +represents a vigorous embodiment and unflinching application of +doctrines which since his time have spread and gained more general +authority. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +Mill says that granting one assumption, the Constitutional +Code is 'admirable.'<a name="FNanchor_450_450" id="FNanchor_450_450"></a><a href="#Footnote_450_450" class="fnanchor">[450]</a> That assumption is that it is for the good +of mankind to be under the absolute authority of a majority. In other +words, it would justify what Mill calls the 'despotism of public +opinion.' To protest against that despotism was one of the main +purposes of Mill's political writings. How was it that the disciple +came to be in such direct opposition to his master? That question +cannot be answered till we have considered Mill's own position. But I +have now followed Bentham far enough to consider the more general +characteristics of his doctrine.</p> + +<p>I have tried, in the first place, to show what was the course of +Bentham's own development; how his observation of certain legal abuses +led him to attempt the foundation of a science of jurisprudence; how +the difficulty of obtaining a hearing for his arguments led him to +discover the power of 'Judge and Co.'; how he found out that behind +'Judge and Co.' were George <small>III.</small> and the base Sidmouth, and the whole +band of obstructors entrenched within the 'matchless constitution'; +and how thus his attack upon the abuses of the penal law led him to +attack the whole political framework of the country. I have also tried +to show how Bentham's development coincided with that of the English +reformers generally. They too began with attacking specific abuses. +They were for 'reform, not revolution.' The constitution satisfied +them in the main: they boasted of the palladia of their liberties, +'trial by jury' and the 'Habeas Corpus' Act, and held Frenchmen to be +frog-eating slaves in danger of <i>lettres de cachet</i> and the Bastille. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +English public opinion in spite of many trammels had a potent +influence. Their first impulse, therefore, was simply to get rid of +the trammels—the abuses which had grown up from want of a thorough +application of the ancient principles in their original purity. The +English Whig, even of the more radical persuasion, was profoundly +convinced that the foundations were sound, however unsatisfactory +might be the superstructure. Thus, both Bentham and the reformers +generally started—not from abstract principles, but from the assault +upon particular abuses. This is the characteristic of the whole +English movement, and gives the meaning of their claim to be +'practical.' The Utilitarians were the reformers on the old lines; and +their philosophy meant simply a desire to systematise the ordinary +common sense arguments. The philosophy congenial to this vein is the +philosophy which appeals to experience. Locke had exploded 'innate +ideas.' They denounced 'intuitions,' or beliefs which might override +experience as 'innate ideas' in a new dress; and the attempt to carry +out this view systematically became the distinctive mark of the whole +school. Bentham accepted, though he did little to elaborate, this +doctrine. That task remained for his disciples. But the tendency is +shown by his view of a rival version of Radicalism.</p> + +<p>Bentham, as we have seen, regarded the American Declaration of +Independence as so much 'jargon.' He was entirely opposed to the +theory of the 'rights of man,' and therefore to the 'ideas of 1789.' +From that theory the revolutionary party professed to deduce their +demands for universal suffrage, the levelling of all privileges, and +the absolute supremacy of the people. Yet +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +Bentham, repudiating the +premises, came to accept the conclusion. His Constitutional Code +scarcely differs from the ideal of the Jacobins', except in pushing +the logic further. The machinery by which he proposed to secure that +the so-called rulers should become really the servants of the people +was more thoroughgoing and minutely worked out than that of any +democratic constitution that has ever been adopted. How was it that +two antagonist theories led to identical results; and that the 'rights +of man,' absurd in philosophy, represented the ideal state of things +in practice?</p> + +<p>The general answer may be that political theories are not really based +upon philosophy. The actual method is to take your politics for +granted on the one side and your philosophy for granted on the other, +and then to prove their necessary connection. But it is, at any rate, +important to see what was the nature of the philosophical assumptions +implicitly taken for granted by Bentham.</p> + +<p>The 'rights of man' doctrine confounds a primary logical canon with a +statement of fact. Every political theory must be based upon facts as +well as upon logic. Any reasonable theory about politics must no doubt +give a reason for inequality and a reason, too, for equality. The +maxim that all men were, or ought to be, 'equal' asserts correctly +that there must not be arbitrary differences. Every inequality should +have its justification in a reasonable system. But when this +undeniable logical canon is taken to prove that men actually are +equal, there is an obvious begging of the question. In point of fact, +the theorists immediately proceeded to disfranchise half the race on +account of sex, and a third of the remainder on account of infancy. +They could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +only amend the argument by saying that all men were equal +in so far as they possessed certain attributes. But those attributes +could only be determined by experience, or, as Bentham would have put +it, by an appeal to 'utility.' It is illogical, said the anti-slavery +advocate, to treat men differently on account of the colour of their +skins. No doubt it is illogical if, in fact, the difference of colour +does not imply a difference of the powers which fit a man for the +enjoyment of certain rights. We may at least grant that the burden of +proof should be upon those who would disfranchise all red-haired men. +But this is because experience shows that the difference of colour +does not mark a relevant difference. We cannot say, <i>a priori</i>, +whether the difference between a negro and a white man may not be so +great as to imply incapacity for enjoyment of equal rights. The black +skin might—for anything a mere logician can say—indicate the mind of +a chimpanzee. The case against slavery does not rest on the bare fact +that negroes and whites both belong to the class 'man,' but on the +fact that the negro has powers and sensibilities which fit him to hold +property, to form marriages, to learn his letters, and so forth. But +that fact is undeniably to be proved, not from the bare logic, but +from observation of the particular case.</p> + +<p>Bentham saw with perfect clearness that sound political theory +requires a basis of solid fact. The main purpose of his whole system +was to carry out that doctrine thoroughly. His view is given +vigorously in the 'Anarchical Fallacies'—a minute examination of the +French Declaration of Rights in 1791. His argument is of merciless +length, and occasionally so minute as to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +sound like quibbling. The +pith, however, is clear enough. 'All men are born and remain free and +equal in respect of rights' are the first words of the Declaration. +Nobody is 'born free,' retorts Bentham. Everybody is born, and long +remains, a helpless child. All men born free! Absurd and miserable +nonsense! Why, you are complaining in the same breath that nearly +everybody is a slave.<a name="FNanchor_451_451" id="FNanchor_451_451"></a><a href="#Footnote_451_451" class="fnanchor">[451]</a> To meet this objection, the words might be +amended by substituting 'ought to be' for 'is.' This, however, on +Bentham's showing, at once introduces the conception of utility, and +therefore leads to empirical considerations. The proposition, when +laid down as a logical necessity, claims to be absolute. Therefore it +implies that all authority is bad; the authority, for example, of +parent over child, or of husband over wife; and moreover, that all +laws to the contrary are <i>ipso facto</i> void. That is why it is +'anarchical.' It supposes a 'natural right,' not only as suggesting +reasons for proposed alterations of the legal right, but as actually +annihilating the right and therefore destroying all government. +'<i>Natural rights</i>,' says Bentham,<a name="FNanchor_452_452" id="FNanchor_452_452"></a><a href="#Footnote_452_452" class="fnanchor">[452]</a> is simple nonsense; natural and +imprescriptible rights 'rhetorical nonsense—nonsense upon stilts.' +For 'natural right' substitute utility, and you have, of course, a +reasonable principle, because an appeal to experience. But lay down +'liberty' as an absolute right and you annihilate law, for every law +supposes coercion. One man gets liberty simply by restricting the +liberty of others.<a name="FNanchor_453_453" id="FNanchor_453_453"></a><a href="#Footnote_453_453" class="fnanchor">[453]</a> What Bentham substantially says, therefore, is +that on this version absolute rights of individuals could mean nothing +but anarchy; or that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +no law can be defended except by a reference to +facts, and therefore to 'utility.'</p> + +<p>One answer might be that the demand is not for absolute liberty, but +for as much liberty as is compatible with equal liberty for all. The +fourth article of the Declaration says: 'Liberty consists in being +able to do that which is not hurtful to another, and therefore the +exercise of the natural rights of each man has no other bounds than +those which ensure to the other members of the society the enjoyment +of the same rights.' This formula corresponds to a theory held by Mr. +Herbert Spencer; and, as he observes,<a name="FNanchor_454_454" id="FNanchor_454_454"></a><a href="#Footnote_454_454" class="fnanchor">[454]</a> held on different grounds +by Kant. Bentham's view, indicated by his criticism of this article in +the 'Anarchical Fallacies,' is therefore worth a moment's notice. The +formula does not demand the absolute freedom which would condemn all +coercion and all government; but it still seems to suggest that +liberty, not utility, is the ultimate end. Bentham's formula, +therefore, diverges. All government, he holds, is an evil, because +coercion implies pain. We must therefore minimise, though we cannot +annihilate, government; but we must keep to utility as the sole test. +Government should, of course, give to the individual all such rights +as are 'useful'; but it does not follow, without a reference to +utility, that men should not be restrained even in 'self-regarding' +conduct. Some men, women, and children require to be protected against +the consequences of their own 'weakness, ignorance, or +imprudence.'<a name="FNanchor_455_455" id="FNanchor_455_455"></a><a href="#Footnote_455_455" class="fnanchor">[455]</a> Bentham adheres, that is, to the strictly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> empirical +ground. The absolute doctrine requires to be qualified by a reference +to actual circumstances: and, among those circumstances, as Bentham +intimates, we must include the capacity of the persons concerned to +govern themselves. Carried out as an absolute principle, it would +imply the independence of infants; and must therefore require some +reference to 'utility.'</p> + +<p>Bentham, then, objects to the Jacobin theory as too absolute and too +'individualist.' The doctrine begs the question; it takes for granted +what can only be proved by experience; and therefore lays down as +absolute theories which are only true under certain conditions or with +reference to the special circumstances to which they are applied. That +is inconsistent with Bentham's thoroughgoing empiricism. But he had +antagonists to meet upon the other side: and, in meeting them, he was +led to a doctrine which has been generally condemned for the very same +faults—as absolute and individualist. We have only to ask in what +sense Bentham appealed to 'experience' to see how he actually reached +his conclusions. The adherents of the old tradition appealed to +experience in their own way. The English people, they said, is the +freest, richest, happiest in the world; it has grown up under the +British Constitution: therefore the British Constitution is the best +in the world, as Burke tells you, and the British common law, as +Blackstone tells you, is the 'perfection of wisdom.' Bentham's reply +was virtually that although he, like Burke, appealed to experience, he +appealed to experience scientifically organised, whereas Burke +appealed to mere blind tradition. Bentham is to be the founder of a +new science, founded like chemistry on experiment, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> +and his methods +are to be as superior to those of Burke as those of modern chemists to +those of the alchemists who also invoked experience. The true plan was +not to throw experience aside because it was alleged by the ignorant +and the prejudiced, but to interrogate experience systematically, and +so to become the Bacon or the Newton of legislation, instead of +wandering off into the <i>a priori</i> constructions of a Descartes or a +Leibniz.</p> + +<p>Bentham thus professes to use an 'inductive' instead of the deductive +method of the Jacobins; but reaches the same practical conclusions +from the other end. The process is instructive. He objected to the +existing inequalities, not as inequalities simply, but as mischievous +inequalities. He, as well as the Jacobins, would admit that inequality +required justification; and he agreed with them that, in this case, +there was no justification. The existing privileges did not promote +the 'greatest happiness of the greatest number.' The attack upon the +'Anarchical Fallacies' must be taken with the <i>Book of Fallacies</i>, and +the <i>Book of Fallacies</i> is a sustained and vigorous, though a +curiously cumbrous, assault upon the Conservative arguments. Its pith +may be found in Sydney Smith's <i>Noodle's Oration</i>; but it is itself +well worth reading by any one who can recognise really admirable +dialectical power, and forgive a little crabbedness of style in +consideration of genuine intellectual vigour. I only notice Bentham's +assault upon the 'wisdom of our ancestors.' After pointing out how +much better we are entitled to judge now that we have got rid of so +many superstitions, and have learned to read and write, he replies to +the question, 'Would you have us speak and act as if we never had any +ancestors?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +'By no means,' he replies; 'though their opinions were of +little value, their practice is worth attending to; but chiefly +because it shows the bad consequences of their opinions.' 'From +foolish opinion comes foolish conduct; from foolish conduct the +severest disaster; and from the severest disaster the most useful +warning. It is from the folly, not from the wisdom, of our ancestors +that we have so much to learn.'<a name="FNanchor_456_456" id="FNanchor_456_456"></a><a href="#Footnote_456_456" class="fnanchor">[456]</a> Bentham has become an 'ancestor,' +and may teach us by his errors. Pointed and vigorous as is his +exposure of many of the sophistries by which Conservatives defended +gross abuses and twisted the existence of any institution into an +argument for its value, we get some measure from this of Bentham's +view of history. In attacking an abuse, he says, we have a right to +inquire into the utility of any and every arrangement. The purpose of +a court of justice is to decide litigation; it has to ascertain facts +and apply rules: does it then ascertain facts by the methods most +conducive to the discovery of truth? Are the rules needlessly complex, +ambiguous, calculated to give a chance to knaves, or to the longest +purse? If so, undoubtedly they are mischievous. Bentham had done +inestimable service in stripping away all the disguises and technical +phrases which had evaded the plain issue, and therefore made of the +laws an unintelligible labyrinth. He proceeded to treat in the same +way of government generally. Does it work efficiently for its +professed ends? Is it worked in the interests of the nation, or of a +special class, whose interests conflict with those of the nation? He +treated, that is, of government as a man of business might investigate +a commercial undertaking. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> If he found that clerks were lazy, +ignorant, making money for themselves, or bullying and cheating the +customers, he would condemn the management. Bentham found the +'matchless constitution' precisely in this state. He condemned +political institutions worked for the benefit of a class, and leading, +especially in legal matters, to endless abuses and chicanery. The +abuses everywhere imply 'inequality' in some sense; for they arise +from monopoly. The man who holds a sinecure, or enjoys a privilege, +uses it for his own private interest. The 'matter of corruption,' as +Bentham called it, was provided by the privilege and the sinecure. The +Jacobin might denounce privileges simply as privileges, and Bentham +denounce them because they were used by the privileged class for +corrupt purposes. So far, Bentham and the Jacobins were quite at one. +It mattered little to the result which argument they preferred to use, +and without doubt they had a very strong case, and did in fact express +a demand for justice and for a redress of palpable evils. The +difference seems to be that in one case the appeal is made in the name +of justice and equality; in the other case, in the name of benevolence +and utility.</p> + +<p>The important point here, however, is to understand Bentham's implicit +assumptions. J. S. Mill, in criticising his master, points out very +forcibly the defects arising from Bentham's attitude to history. He +simply continued, as Mill thinks, the hostility with which the +critical or destructive school of the eighteenth century regarded +their ancestors. To the revolutionary party history was a record of +crimes and follies and of little else. The question will meet us +again; and here it is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +enough to ask what is the reason of his tacit +implication of Bentham's position. Bentham's whole aim, as I have +tried to show, was to be described as the construction of a science of +legislation. The science, again, was to be purely empirical. It was to +rest throughout upon the observation of facts. That aim—an admirable +aim—runs through his whole work and that of his successors. I have +noticed, indeed, how easily Bentham took for granted that his +makeshift classification of common motives amounted to a scientific +psychology. A similar assumption that a rough sketch of a science is +the same thing as its definite constitution is characteristic of the +Utilitarians in general. A scientific spirit is most desirable; but +the Utilitarians took a very short cut to scientific certainty. Though +appealing to experience, they reach formulæ as absolute as any +'intuitionist' could desire. What is the logical process implied? To +constitute an empirical science is to show that the difference between +different phenomena is due simply to 'circumstances.' The explanation +of the facts becomes sufficient when the 'law' can be stated, as that +of a unit of constant properties placed in varying positions. This +corresponds to the procedure in the physical sciences, where the +ultimate aim is to represent all laws as corresponding to the changes +of position of uniform atoms. In social and political changes the goal +is the same. J. S. Mill states in the end of his <i>Autobiography</i><a name="FNanchor_457_457" id="FNanchor_457_457"></a><a href="#Footnote_457_457" class="fnanchor">[457]</a> +that one main purpose of his writing was to show that 'differences +between individuals, races, or sexes' are due to 'differences in +circumstances.' In fact, this is an +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +aim so characteristic from the +beginning of the whole school, that it may be put down almost as a +primary postulate. It was not, indeed, definitely formulated; but to +'explain' a social theorem was taken to be the same thing as to show +how differences of character or conduct could be explained by +'circumstance'—meaning by 'circumstance' something not given in the +agent himself. We have, however, no more right as good empiricists to +assert than to deny that all difference comes from 'circumstance.' If +we take 'man' as a constant quantity in our speculations, it requires +at least a great many precautions before we can assume that our +abstract entity corresponds to a real concrete unit. Otherwise we have +a short cut to a doctrine of 'equality.' The theory of 'the rights of +man' lays down the formula, and assumes that the facts will +correspond. The Utilitarian assumes the equality of fact, and of +course brings out an equally absolute formula. 'Equality,' in some +sense, is introduced by a side wind, though not explicitly laid down +as an axiom.<a name="FNanchor_458_458" id="FNanchor_458_458"></a><a href="#Footnote_458_458" class="fnanchor">[458]</a> This underlying tendency may partly explain the +coincidence of results—though it would require a good many +qualifications in detail; but here I need only take Bentham's more or +less unconscious application.</p> + +<p>Bentham's tacit assumption, in fact, is that there is an average +'man.' Different specimens of the race, indeed, may vary widely +according to age, sex, and so forth; but, for purposes of legislation, +he may serve as a unit. We can assume that he has on the average +certain qualities from which his actions in the mass can +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> be +determined with sufficient accuracy, and we are tempted to assume that +they are mainly the qualities obvious to an inhabitant of Queen's +Square Place about the year 1800. Mill defends Bentham against the +charge that he assumed his codes to be good for all men everywhere. To +that, says Mill,<a name="FNanchor_459_459" id="FNanchor_459_459"></a><a href="#Footnote_459_459" class="fnanchor">[459]</a> the essay upon the 'Influence of Time and Place +in Matters of Legislation' is a complete answer. Yet Mill<a name="FNanchor_460_460" id="FNanchor_460_460"></a><a href="#Footnote_460_460" class="fnanchor">[460]</a> admits +in the same breath that Bentham omitted all reference to 'national +character.' In fact, as we have seen, Bentham was ready to legislate +for Hindoostan as well as for his own parish; and to make codes not +only for England, Spain, and Russia, but for Morocco. The Essay +mentioned really explains the point. Bentham not only admitted but +asserted as energetically as became an empiricist, that we must allow +for 'circumstances'; and circumstances include not only climate and so +forth, but the varying beliefs and customs of the people under +consideration. The real assumption is that all such circumstances are +superficial, and can be controlled and altered indefinitely by the +'legislator.' The Moor, the Hindoo, and the Englishman are all +radically identical; and the differences which must be taken into +account for the moment can be removed by judicious means. Without +pausing to illustrate this from the Essay, I may remark that for many +purposes such an assumption is justifiable and guides ordinary common +sense. If we ask what would be the best constitution for a commercial +company, or the best platform for a political party, we can form a +fair guess by arguing from the average of Bentham and his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> +contemporaries—especially if we are shrewd attornies or political +wirepullers. Only we are not therefore in a position to talk about the +'science of human nature' or to deal with problems of 'sociology.' +This, however, gives Bentham's 'individualism' in a sense of the +phrase already explained. He starts from the 'ready-made man,' and +deduces all institutions or legal arrangements from his properties. I +have tried to show how naturally this view fell in with the ordinary +political conceptions of the time. It shows, again, why Bentham +disregards history. When we have such a science, empirical or <i>a +priori</i>, history is at most of secondary importance. We can deduce all +our maxims of conduct from the man himself as he is before us. History +only shows how terribly he blundered in the pre-scientific period. The +blunders may give us a hint here and there. Man was essentially the +same in the first and the eighteenth century, and the differences are +due to the clumsy devices which he made by rule of thumb. We do not +want to refer to them now, except as illustrations of errors. We may +remark how difficult it was to count before the present notation was +invented; but when it has once been invented, we may learn to use it +without troubling our heads about our ancestors' clumsy contrivances +for doing without it. This leads to the real shortcoming. There is a +point at which the historical view becomes important—the point, +namely, where it is essential to remember that man is not a ready-made +article, but the product of a long and still continuing 'evolution.' +Bentham's attack (in the <i>Fragment</i>) upon the 'social contract' is +significant. He was, no doubt, perfectly right in saying that an +imaginary contract could +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +add no force to the ultimate grounds for the +social union. Nobody would now accept the fiction in that stage. And +yet the 'social contract' may be taken to recognise a fact; namely, +that the underlying instincts upon which society alternately rests +correspond to an order of reasons from those which determine more +superficial relations. Society is undoubtedly useful, and its utility +may be regarded as its ground. But the utility of society means much +more than the utility of a railway company or a club, which postulates +as existing a whole series of already established institutions. To +Bentham an 'utility' appeared to be a kind of permanent and ultimate +entity which is the same at all periods—it corresponds to a +psychological currency of constant value. To show, therefore, that the +social contract recognises 'utility' is to show that the whole +organism is constructed just as any particular part is constructed. +Man comes first and 'society' afterwards. I have already noticed how +this applies to his statements about the utility of a law; how his +argument assumes an already constituted society, and seems to overlook +the difference between the organic law upon which all order +essentially depends, and some particular modification or corollary +which may be superinduced. We now have to notice the political version +of the same method. The 'law,' according to Bentham, is a rule +enforced by a 'sanction.' The imposer of the rule in the phrase which +Hobbes had made famous is the 'sovereign.' Hobbes was a favourite +author, indeed, of the later Utilitarians, though Bentham does not +appear to have studied him. The relation is one of natural affinity. +When in the <i>Constitutional Code</i> Bentham transfers the 'sovereignty' +from the king to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +the 'people,'<a name="FNanchor_461_461" id="FNanchor_461_461"></a><a href="#Footnote_461_461" class="fnanchor">[461]</a> he shows the exact difference +between his doctrine and that of the <i>Leviathan</i>. Both thinkers are +absolutists in principle, though Hobbes gives to a monarch the power +which Bentham gives to a democracy. The attributes remain though their +subject is altered. The 'sovereign,' in fact, is the keystone of the +whole Utilitarian system. He represents the ultimate source of all +authority, and supplies the motive for all obedience. As Hobbes put +it, he is a kind of mortal God.</p> + +<p>Mill's criticism of Bentham suggests the consequences. There are, he +says,<a name="FNanchor_462_462" id="FNanchor_462_462"></a><a href="#Footnote_462_462" class="fnanchor">[462]</a> three great questions: What government is for the good of +the people? How are they to be induced to obey it? How is it to be +made responsible? The third question, he says, is the only one +seriously considered by Bentham; and Bentham's answer, we have seen, +leads to that 'tyranny of the majority' which was Mill's great +stumbling-block. Why, then, does Bentham omit the other questions? or +rather, how would he answer them? for he certainly assumes an answer. +People, in the first place, are 'induced to obey' by the sanctions. +They don't rob that they may not go to prison. That is a sufficient +answer at a given moment. It assumes, indeed, that the law will be +obeyed. The policeman, the gaoler, and the judge will do what the +sovereign—whether despot or legislature—orders them to do. The +jurist may naturally take this for granted. He does not go 'behind the +law.' That is the law which the sovereign has declared to be the law. +In that sense, the sovereign is omnipotent. He can, as a fact, +threaten evildoers with the gallows; and the jurist simply takes the +fact for granted, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> +assumes that the coercion is an ultimate fact. +No doubt it is ultimate for the individual subject. The immediate +restraint is the policeman, and we need not ask upon what does the +policeman depend. If, however, we persist in asking, we come to the +historical problems which Bentham simply omits. The law itself, in +fact, ultimately rests upon 'custom,'—upon the whole system of +instincts, beliefs, and passions which induce people to obey +government, and are, so to speak, the substance out of which loyalty +and respect for the law is framed. These, again, are the product of an +indefinitely long elaboration, which Bentham takes for granted. He +assumes as perfectly natural and obvious that a number of men should +meet, as the Americans or Frenchmen met, and create a constitution. +That the possibility of such a proceeding involves centuries of +previous training does not occur to him. It is assumed that the +constitution can be made out of hand, and this assumption is of the +highest importance, not only historically, but for immediate practice. +Mill assumes too easily that Bentham has secured responsibility. +Bentham assumes that an institution will work as it is intended to +work—perhaps the commonest error of constitution-mongers. If the +people use the instruments which he provides, they have a legal method +for enforcing obedience. To infer that they will do so is to infer +that all the organic instincts will operate precisely as he intends; +that each individual, for example, will form an independent opinion +upon legislative questions, vote for men who will apply his opinions, +and see that his representatives perform his bidding honestly. That +they should do so is essential to his scheme; but that they will do so +is what he takes +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +for granted. He assumes, that is, that there is no +need for inquiring into the social instincts which lie beneath all +political action. You can make your machine and assume the moving +force. That is the natural result of considering political and +legislative problems without taking into account the whole character +of the human materials employed in the construction. Bentham's +sovereign is thus absolute. He rules by coercion, as a foreign power +may rule by the sword in a conquered province. Thus, force is the +essence of government, and it is needless to go further. To secure the +right application of the force, we have simply to distribute it among +the subjects. Government still means coercion, and ultimately nothing +else; but then, as the subjects are simply moved by their own +interests, that is, by utility, they will apply the power to secure +those interests. Therefore, all that is wanted is this distribution, +and Mill's first problem, What government is for the good of the +people? is summarily answered. The question, how obedience is to be +secured, is evaded by confining the answer to the 'sanctions,' and +taking for granted that the process of distributing power is perfectly +simple, or that a new order can be introduced as easily as parliament +can pass an act for establishing a new police in London. The 'social +contract' is abolished; but it is taken for granted that the whole +power of the sovereign can be distributed, and rules made for its +application by the common sense of the various persons interested. +Finally, the one bond outside of the individual is the sovereign. He +represents all that holds society together; his 'sanctions,' as I have +said, are taken to be on the same plane with the 'moral +sanctions'—not dependent +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +upon them, but other modes of applying +similar motives. As the sovereign, again, is in a sense omnipotent, +and yet can be manufactured, so to speak, by voluntary arrangements +among the individual members of society, there is no limit to the +influence which he may exercise. I note, indeed, that I am speaking +rather of the tendencies of the theory than of definitely formulated +conclusions. Most of the Utilitarians were exceedingly shrewd, +practical people, whose regard for hard facts imposed limits upon +their speculations. They should have been the last people to believe +too implicitly in the magical efficacy of political contrivances, for +they were fully aware that many men are knaves and most men fools. +They probably put little faith in Bentham's Utopia, except as a remote +ideal, and an ideal of unimaginative minds. The Utopia was constructed +on 'individualist' principles, because common sense naturally approves +individualism. The whole social and political order is clearly the sum +of the individuals, who combine to form an aggregate; and theories +about social bonds take one to the mystical and sentimental. The +absolute tendency is common to Bentham and the Jacobins. Whether the +individual be taken as a unit of constant properties, or as the +subject of absolute rights, we reach equally absolute conclusions. +When all the social and political regulations are regarded as +indefinitely modifiable, the ultimate laws come to depend upon the +absolute framework of unalterable fact. This, again, is often the +right point of view for immediate questions in which we may take for +granted that the average individual is in fact constant; and, as I +have said in regard to Bentham's legislative process, leads to very +relevant and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +important, though not ultimate, questions. But there are +certain other results which require to be noticed. 'Individualism,' +like other words that have become watchwords of controversy, has +various shades of meaning, and requires a little more definition.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_434_434" id="Footnote_434_434"></a><a href="#FNanchor_434_434"><span class="label">[434]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, v. 97, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_435_435" id="Footnote_435_435"></a><a href="#FNanchor_435_435"><span class="label">[435]</span></a> See preface to <i>Constitutional Code</i> in vol. ix.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_436_436" id="Footnote_436_436"></a><a href="#FNanchor_436_436"><span class="label">[436]</span></a> Bentham's nephew, George, who died when approaching his +eighty-fourth birthday, devoted the last twenty-five years of his life +with equal assiduity to his <i>Genera Plantarum</i>. See a curious anecdote +of his persistence in the <i>Dictionary of National Biography</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_437_437" id="Footnote_437_437"></a><a href="#FNanchor_437_437"><span class="label">[437]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, iii. 573.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_438_438" id="Footnote_438_438"></a><a href="#FNanchor_438_438"><span class="label">[438]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ix. 5, 8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_439_439" id="Footnote_439_439"></a><a href="#FNanchor_439_439"><span class="label">[439]</span></a> The theory, as Mill reminds us, had been very pointedly +anticipated by Helvétius. Bentham's practical experience, however, had +forced it upon his attention.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_440_440" id="Footnote_440_440"></a><a href="#FNanchor_440_440"><span class="label">[440]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ix. 141. The general principle, however, is +confirmed by the case of George <small>III.</small></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_441_441" id="Footnote_441_441"></a><a href="#FNanchor_441_441"><span class="label">[441]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 45.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_442_442" id="Footnote_442_442"></a><a href="#FNanchor_442_442"><span class="label">[442]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 98.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_443_443" id="Footnote_443_443"></a><a href="#FNanchor_443_443"><span class="label">[443]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ix. 98.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_444_444" id="Footnote_444_444"></a><a href="#FNanchor_444_444"><span class="label">[444]</span></a> e.g. <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 38, 50, 63, 99, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_445_445" id="Footnote_445_445"></a><a href="#FNanchor_445_445"><span class="label">[445]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ('Plan of Parliamentary Reform,') iii. 463.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_446_446" id="Footnote_446_446"></a><a href="#FNanchor_446_446"><span class="label">[446]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ix. 594.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_447_447" id="Footnote_447_447"></a><a href="#FNanchor_447_447"><span class="label">[447]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 62.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_448_448" id="Footnote_448_448"></a><a href="#FNanchor_448_448"><span class="label">[448]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 24.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_449_449" id="Footnote_449_449"></a><a href="#FNanchor_449_449"><span class="label">[449]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 48.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_450_450" id="Footnote_450_450"></a><a href="#FNanchor_450_450"><span class="label">[450]</span></a> <i>Dissertations</i>, i. 377.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_451_451" id="Footnote_451_451"></a><a href="#FNanchor_451_451"><span class="label">[451]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ii. 497.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_452_452" id="Footnote_452_452"></a><a href="#FNanchor_452_452"><span class="label">[452]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 501.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_453_453" id="Footnote_453_453"></a><a href="#FNanchor_453_453"><span class="label">[453]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ii. 503.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_454_454" id="Footnote_454_454"></a><a href="#FNanchor_454_454"><span class="label">[454]</span></a> <i>Justice</i>, p. 264; so Price, in his <i>Observations on +Liberty</i>, lays it down that government is never to entrench upon +private liberty, 'except so far as private liberty entrenches on the +liberty of others.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_455_455" id="Footnote_455_455"></a><a href="#FNanchor_455_455"><span class="label">[455]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ii. 506.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_456_456" id="Footnote_456_456"></a><a href="#FNanchor_456_456"><span class="label">[456]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ii. 401.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_457_457" id="Footnote_457_457"></a><a href="#FNanchor_457_457"><span class="label">[457]</span></a> <i>Autobiography</i>, p. 274.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_458_458" id="Footnote_458_458"></a><a href="#FNanchor_458_458"><span class="label">[458]</span></a> Hobbes, in the <i>Leviathan</i> (chap. xiii.), has in the +same way to argue for the <i>de facto</i> equality of men.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_459_459" id="Footnote_459_459"></a><a href="#FNanchor_459_459"><span class="label">[459]</span></a> <i>Dissertations</i>, i. 375.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_460_460" id="Footnote_460_460"></a><a href="#FNanchor_460_460"><span class="label">[460]</span></a> I remark by anticipation that this expression implies a +reference to Mill's <i>Ethology</i>, of which I shall have to speak.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_461_461" id="Footnote_461_461"></a><a href="#FNanchor_461_461"><span class="label">[461]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ix. 96, 113.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_462_462" id="Footnote_462_462"></a><a href="#FNanchor_462_462"><span class="label">[462]</span></a> <i>Dissertations</i>, i. 376.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="scs">VII. <a name="VI_VII" id="VI_VII"></a>INDIVIDUALISM</p> + +<p>'Individualism' in the first place is generally mentioned in a +different connection. The 'ready-made' man of whom I have spoken +becomes the 'economic man.' Bentham himself contributed little to +economic theory. His most important writing was the <i>Defence of +Usury</i>, and in this, as we have seen, he was simply adding a corollary +to the <i>Wealth of Nations</i>. The <i>Wealth of Nations</i> itself represented +the spirit of business; the revolt of men who were building up a vast +industrial system against the fetters imposed by traditional +legislation and by rulers who regarded industry in general, as Telford +is said to have regarded rivers. Rivers were meant to supply canals, +and trade to supply tax-gatherers. With this revolt, of course, +Bentham was in full sympathy, but here I shall only speak of one +doctrine of great interest, which occurs both in his political +treatises and his few economical remarks. Bentham objected, as we have +seen, to the abstract theory of equality; yet it was to the mode of +deduction rather than to the doctrine itself which he objected. He +gave, in fact, his own defence; and it is one worth notice.<a name="FNanchor_463_463" id="FNanchor_463_463"></a><a href="#Footnote_463_463" class="fnanchor">[463]</a> The +principle of equality is derivative, not ultimate. Equality is good +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +because equality increases the sum of happiness. Thus, as he +says,<a name="FNanchor_464_464" id="FNanchor_464_464"></a><a href="#Footnote_464_464" class="fnanchor">[464]</a> if two men have £1000, and you transfer £500 from one to +the other, you increase the recipient's wealth by one-third, and +diminish the loser's wealth by one-half. You therefore add less +pleasure than you subtract. The principle is given less +mathematically<a name="FNanchor_465_465" id="FNanchor_465_465"></a><a href="#Footnote_465_465" class="fnanchor">[465]</a> by the more significant argument that 'felicity' +depends not simply on the 'matter of felicity' or the stimulus, but +also on the sensibility to felicity which is necessarily limited. +Therefore by adding wealth—taking, for example, from a thousand +labourers to give to one king—you are supersaturating a sensibility +already glutted by taking away from others a great amount of real +happiness. With this argument, which has of late years become +conspicuous in economics, he connects another of primary importance. +The first condition of happiness, he says, is not 'equality' but +'security.' Now you can only equalise at the expense of security. If I +am to have my property taken away whenever it is greater than my +neighbour's, I can have no security.<a name="FNanchor_466_466" id="FNanchor_466_466"></a><a href="#Footnote_466_466" class="fnanchor">[466]</a> Hence, if the two principles +conflict, equality should give way. Security is the primary, which +must override the secondary, aim. Must the two principles, then, +always conflict? No; but 'time is the only mediator.'<a name="FNanchor_467_467" id="FNanchor_467_467"></a><a href="#Footnote_467_467" class="fnanchor">[467]</a> The law may +help to accumulate inequalities; but in a prosperous state there is a +'continual progress towards equality.' The law has to stand aside; not +to maintain monopolies; not to restrain trade; not to permit entails; +and then property will diffuse itself by a natural process, already +exemplified in the growth of Europe. The 'pyramids' +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> heaped up in +feudal times have been lowered, and their '<i>débris</i> spread abroad' +among the industrious. Here again we see how Bentham virtually +diverges from the <i>a priori</i> school. Their absolute tendencies would +introduce 'equality' by force; he would leave it to the spontaneous +progress of security. Hence Bentham is in the main an adherent of what +he calls<a name="FNanchor_468_468" id="FNanchor_468_468"></a><a href="#Footnote_468_468" class="fnanchor">[468]</a> the '<i>laissez-nous faire</i>' principle. He advocates it +most explicitly in the so-called <i>Manual of Political Economy</i>—a +short essay first printed in 1798.<a name="FNanchor_469_469" id="FNanchor_469_469"></a><a href="#Footnote_469_469" class="fnanchor">[469]</a> The tract, however, such as it +is, is less upon political economy proper than upon economic +legislation; and its chief conclusion is that almost all legislation +is improper. His main principle is 'Be quiet' (the equivalent of the +French phrase, which surely should have been excluded from so English +a theory). Security and freedom are all that industry requires; and +industry should say to government only what Diogenes said to +Alexander, 'Stand out of my sunshine.'<a name="FNanchor_470_470" id="FNanchor_470_470"></a><a href="#Footnote_470_470" class="fnanchor">[470]</a></p> + +<p>Once more, however, Bentham will not lay down the 'let alone' +principle absolutely. His adherence to the empirical method is too +decided. The doctrine 'be quiet,' though generally true, rests upon +utility, and may, therefore, always be qualified by proving that in a +particular case the balance of utility is the other way. In fact, some +of Bentham's favourite projects would be condemned by an absolute +adherent of the doctrine. The Panopticon, for example, though a 'mill +to grind rogues honest' could be applied to others than rogues, and +Bentham hoped to make his machinery equally effective in the case of +pauperism. A system of national education is also included in his +ideal constitution. It is, in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> fact, important to remember that the +'individualism' of Benthamism does not necessarily coincide with an +absolute restriction of government interference. The general tendency +was in that direction; and in purely economical questions, scarcely +any exception was admitted to the rule. Men are the best judges, it +was said, of their own interest; and the interference of rulers in a +commercial transaction is the interference of people inferior in +knowledge of the facts, and whose interests are 'sinister' or +inconsistent with those of the persons really concerned. Utility, +therefore, will, as a rule, forbid the action of government: but, as +utility is always the ultimate principle, and there may be cases in +which it does not coincide with the 'let alone' principle, we must +always admit the possibility that in special cases government can +interfere usefully, and, in that case, approve the interference.</p> + +<p>Hence we have the ethical application of these theories. The +individualist position naturally tends to take the form of egoism. The +moral sentiments, whatever they may be, are clearly an intrinsic part +of the organic social instincts. They are intimately involved in the +whole process of social evolution. But this view corresponds precisely +to the conditions which Bentham overlooks. The individual is already +there. The moral and the legal sanctions are 'external'; something +imposed by the action of others; corresponding to 'coercion,' whether +by physical force or the dread of public opinion; and, in any case, an +accretion or addition, not a profound modification of his whole +nature. The Utilitarian 'man' therefore inclines to consider other +people as merely parts of the necessary machinery. Their feelings +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> are +relevant only as influencing their outward conduct. If a man gives me +a certain 'lot' of pain or pleasure, it does not matter what may be +his motives. The 'motive' for all conduct corresponds in all cases to +the pain or pleasure accruing to the agent. It is true that his +happiness will be more or less affected by his relations to others. +But as conduct is ruled by a calculation of the balance of pains or +pleasures dependent upon any course of action, it simplifies matters +materially, if each man regards his neighbour's feelings simply as +instrumental, not intrinsically interesting. And thus the coincidence +between that conduct which maximises my happiness and that conduct +which maximises happiness in general, must be regarded as more or less +accidental or liable in special cases to disappear. If I am made +happier by action which makes others miserable, the rule of utility +will lead to my preference of myself.</p> + +<p>Here we have the question whether the Utilitarian system be +essentially a selfish system. Bentham, with his vague psychology, does +not lay down the doctrine absolutely. After giving this list of +self-regarding 'springs of action,' he proceeds to add the pleasures +and pains of 'sympathy' and 'antipathy' which, he says, are not +self-regarding. Moreover, as we have seen, he has some difficulty in +denying that 'benevolence' is a necessarily moral motive: it is only +capable of prompting to bad conduct in so far as it is insufficiently +enlightened; and it is clear that a moralist who makes the 'greatest +happiness of the greatest number' his universal test, has some reason +for admitting as an elementary pleasure the desire for the greatest +happiness. This comes out curiously in the <i>Constitutional Code</i>. He +there lays down the 'self-preference principle'—the principle, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +namely, that 'every human being' is determined in every action by his +judgment of what will produce the greatest happiness to himself, +'whatsoever be the effect ... in relation to the happiness of other +similar beings, any or all of them taken together.'<a name="FNanchor_471_471" id="FNanchor_471_471"></a><a href="#Footnote_471_471" class="fnanchor">[471]</a> Afterwards, +however, he observes that it is 'the constant and arduous task of +every moralist' and of every legislator who deserves the name to +'increase the influence of sympathy at the expense of that of +self-regard and of sympathy for the greater number at the expense of +sympathy for the lesser number.'<a name="FNanchor_472_472" id="FNanchor_472_472"></a><a href="#Footnote_472_472" class="fnanchor">[472]</a> He tries to reconcile these +views by the remark 'that even sympathy has its root in self-regard,' +and he argues, as Mr. Herbert Spencer has done more fully, that if +Adam cared only for Eve and Eve only for Adam—neither caring at all +for himself or herself—both would perish in less than a year. +Self-regard, that is, is essential, and sympathy supposes its +existence. Hence Bentham puts himself through a catechism.<a name="FNanchor_473_473" id="FNanchor_473_473"></a><a href="#Footnote_473_473" class="fnanchor">[473]</a> What +is the 'best' government? That which causes the greatest happiness of +the given community. What community? 'Any community, which is as much +as to say, every community.' But <i>why</i> do you desire this happiness? +Because the establishment of that happiness would contribute to <i>my</i> +greatest happiness. And <i>how</i> do you prove that you desire this +result? By my labours to obtain it, replies Bentham. This oddly omits +the more obvious question, how can you be sure that your happiness +will be promoted by the greatest happiness of all? What if the two +criteria differ? I desire the general happiness, he might have +replied, because my benevolence is an original or elementary instinct +which can override my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +self-love; or I desire it, he would perhaps +have said, because I know as a fact that the happiness of others will +incidentally contribute to my own. The first answer would fall in with +some of his statements; but the second is, as I think must be +admitted, more in harmony with his system. Perhaps, indeed, the most +characteristic thing is Bentham's failure to discuss explicitly the +question whether human action is or is not necessarily 'selfish.' He +tells us in regard to the 'springs of action' that all human action is +always 'interested,' but explains that the word properly includes +actions in which the motive is not 'self-regarding.'<a name="FNanchor_474_474" id="FNanchor_474_474"></a><a href="#Footnote_474_474" class="fnanchor">[474]</a> It merely +means, in fact, that all conduct has motives. The statement, which I +have quoted about the 'self-preference' principle may only mean a +doctrine which is perfectly compatible with a belief in +'altruism'—the doctrine, namely, that as a fact most people are +chiefly interested by their own affairs. The legislator, he tells us, +should try to increase sympathy, but the less he takes sympathy for +the 'basis of his arrangements'—that is, the less call he makes upon +purely unselfish motives—the greater will be his success.<a name="FNanchor_475_475" id="FNanchor_475_475"></a><a href="#Footnote_475_475" class="fnanchor">[475]</a> This +is a shrewd and, I should say, a very sound remark, but it +implies—not that all motives are selfish in the last analysis, +but—that the legislation should not assume too exalted a level of +ordinary morality. The utterances in the very unsatisfactory +<i>Deontology</i> are of little value, and seem to imply a moral sentiment +corresponding to a petty form of commonplace prudence.<a name="FNanchor_476_476" id="FNanchor_476_476"></a><a href="#Footnote_476_476" class="fnanchor">[476]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +Leaving this point, however, the problem necessarily presented itself +to Bentham in a form in which selfishness is the predominating force, +and any recognition of independent benevolence rather an incumbrance +than a help. If we take the 'self-preference principle' absolutely, +the question becomes how a multitude of individuals, each separately +pursuing his own happiness, can so arrange matters that their joint +action may secure the happiness of all. Clearly a man, however +selfish, has an interest generally in putting down theft and murder. +He is already provided with a number of interests to which security, +at least, and therefore a regular administration of justice, is +essential. His shop could not be carried on without the police; and he +may agree to pay the expenses, even if others reap the benefit in +greater proportion. A theory of legislation, therefore, which supposes +ready formed all the instincts which make a decent commercial society +possible can do without much reference to sympathy or altruism. +Bentham's man is not the colourless unit of <i>a priori</i> writing, nor +the noble savage of Rousseau, but the respectable citizen with a +policeman round the corner. Such a man may well hold that honesty is +the best policy; he has enough sympathy to be kind to his old mother, +and help a friend in distress; but the need of romantic and elevated +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +conduct rarely occurs to him; and the heroic, if he meets it, appears +to him as an exception, not far removed from the silly. He does not +reflect—especially if he cares nothing for history—how even the +society in which he is a contented unit has been built up, and how +much loyalty and heroism has been needed for the work; nor even, to do +him justice, what unsuspected capacities may lurk in his own +commonplace character. The really characteristic point is, however, +that Bentham does not clearly face the problem. He is content to take +for granted as an ultimate fact that the self-interest principle in +the long run coincides with the greatest 'happiness' principle, and +leaves the problem to his successors. There we shall meet it again.</p> + +<p>Finally, Bentham's view of religion requires a word. The short reply, +however, would be sufficient, that he did not believe in any theology, +and was in the main indifferent to the whole question till it +encountered him in political matters. His first interest apparently +was roused by the educational questions which I have noticed, and the +proposal to teach the catechism. Bentham, remembering the early +bullying at Oxford, examines the catechism; and argues in his usual +style that to enforce it is to compel children to tell lies. But this +leads him to assail the church generally; and he regards the church +simply as a part of the huge corrupt machinery which elsewhere had +created Judge and Co. He states many facts about non-residence and +bloated bishoprics which had a very serious importance; and he then +asks how the work might be done more cheaply. As a clergyman's only +duty is to read weekly services and preach sermons, he suggests +(whether seriously may +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +be doubted) that this might be done as well by +teaching a parish boy to read properly, and provide him with the +prayer-book and the homilies.<a name="FNanchor_477_477" id="FNanchor_477_477"></a><a href="#Footnote_477_477" class="fnanchor">[477]</a> A great deal of expense would be +saved. This, again, seems to have led him to attack St. Paul, whom he +took to be responsible for dogmatic theology, and therefore for the +catechism; and he cross-examines the apostle, and confronts his +various accounts of the conversion with a keenness worthy of a +professional lawyer. In one of the <small>MSS.</small> at University College the same +method is applied to the gospels. Bentham was clearly not capable of +anticipating Renan. From these studies he was led to the far more +interesting book, published under the name of <i>Philip Beauchamp</i>. +Bentham supplied the argument in part; but to me it seems clear that +it owes so much to the editor, Grote, that it may more fitly be +discussed hereafter.</p> + +<p>The limitations and defects of Bentham's doctrine have been made +abundantly evident by later criticism. They were due partly to his +personal character, and partly to the intellectual and special +atmosphere in which he was brought up. But it is more important to +recognise the immense real value of his doctrine. Briefly, I should +say, that there is hardly an argument in Bentham's voluminous writings +which is not to the purpose so far as it goes. Given his point of +view, he is invariably cogent and relevant. And, moreover, that is a +point of view which has to be taken. No ethical or political doctrine +can, as I hold, be satisfactory which does not find a place for +Bentham, though he was far, indeed, from giving a complete theory of +his subject. And the main reason of this is that which I have already +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +indicated. Bentham's whole life was spent in the attempt to create a +science of legislation. Even where he is most tiresome, there is a +certain interest in his unflagging working out of every argument, and +its application to all conceivable cases. It is all genuine reasoning; +and throughout it is dominated by a respect for good solid facts. His +hatred of 'vague generalities'<a name="FNanchor_478_478" id="FNanchor_478_478"></a><a href="#Footnote_478_478" class="fnanchor">[478]</a> means that he will be content with +no formula which cannot be interpreted in terms of definite facts. The +resolution to insist upon this should really be characteristic of +every writer upon similar subjects, and no one ever surpassed Bentham +in attention to it. Classify and re-classify, to make sure that at +every point your classes correspond to realities. In the effort to +carry out these principles, Bentham at least brought innumerable +questions to a sound test, and exploded many pestilent fallacies. If +he did not succeed further, if whole spheres of thought remained +outside of his vision, it was because in his day there was not only no +science of 'sociology' or psychology—there are no such sciences +now—but no adequate perception of the vast variety of investigation +which would be necessary to lay a basis for them. But the effort to +frame a science is itself valuable, indeed of surpassing value, so far +as it is combined with a genuine respect for facts. It is common +enough to attempt to create a science by inventing technical +terminology. Bentham tried the far wider and far more fruitful method +of a minute investigation of particular facts. His work, therefore, +will stand, however different some of the results may appear when +fitted into a different framework. And, therefore, however crudely and +im<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span>perfectly, +Bentham did, as I believe, help to turn speculation into +a true and profitable channel. Of that, more will appear hereafter; +but, if any one doubts Bentham's services, I will only suggest to him +to compare Bentham with any of his British contemporaries, and to ask +where he can find anything at all comparable to his resolute attempt +to bring light and order into a chaotic infusion of compromise and +prejudice.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><strong>NOTES:</strong> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_463_463" id="Footnote_463_463"></a><a href="#FNanchor_463_463"><span class="label">[463]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, 'Civil Code' (from Dumont), i. 302, 305; +<i>Ibid.</i> ('Principles of Constitutional Code') ii. 271; <i>Ibid.</i> +('Constitutional Code') ix. 15-18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_464_464" id="Footnote_464_464"></a><a href="#FNanchor_464_464"><span class="label">[464]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, i. 306 <i>n.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_465_465" id="Footnote_465_465"></a><a href="#FNanchor_465_465"><span class="label">[465]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 15.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_466_466" id="Footnote_466_466"></a><a href="#FNanchor_466_466"><span class="label">[466]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ('Principles of Penal Code') i. 311.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_467_467" id="Footnote_467_467"></a><a href="#FNanchor_467_467"><span class="label">[467]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> i. 312.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_468_468" id="Footnote_468_468"></a><a href="#FNanchor_468_468"><span class="label">[468]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, x. 440.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_469_469" id="Footnote_469_469"></a><a href="#FNanchor_469_469"><span class="label">[469]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> iii. 33, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_470_470" id="Footnote_470_470"></a><a href="#FNanchor_470_470"><span class="label">[470]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> iii. 35.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_471_471" id="Footnote_471_471"></a><a href="#FNanchor_471_471"><span class="label">[471]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, ix. 5.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_472_472" id="Footnote_472_472"></a><a href="#FNanchor_472_472"><span class="label">[472]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 192.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_473_473" id="Footnote_473_473"></a><a href="#FNanchor_473_473"><span class="label">[473]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_474_474" id="Footnote_474_474"></a><a href="#FNanchor_474_474"><span class="label">[474]</span></a> <i>Works</i>, i. 212.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_475_475" id="Footnote_475_475"></a><a href="#FNanchor_475_475"><span class="label">[475]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> ix. 192.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_476_476" id="Footnote_476_476"></a><a href="#FNanchor_476_476"><span class="label">[476]</span></a> See, <i>e.g.</i>, i. 83, where sympathy seems to be taken as +an ultimate pleasure; and ii. 133, where he says 'dream not that men +will move their little finger to serve you unless their advantage in +so doing be obvious to them.' See also the apologue of 'Walter Wise,' +who becomes Lord Mayor, and 'Timothy Thoughtless,' who ends at Botany +Bay (i. 118), giving the lowest kind of prudential morality. The +manuscript of the <i>Deontology</i>, now in University College, London, +seems to prove that Bentham was substantially the author, though the +Mills seem to have suspected Bowring of adulterating the true +doctrine. He appears to have been an honest if not very intelligent +editor; though the rewriting, necessary in all Bentham's works, was +damaging in this case; and he is probably responsible for some +rhetorical amplification, especially in the later part.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_477_477" id="Footnote_477_477"></a><a href="#FNanchor_477_477"><span class="label">[477]</span></a> <i>Church of Englandism</i> (Catechism examined), p. 207.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_478_478" id="Footnote_478_478"></a><a href="#FNanchor_478_478"><span class="label">[478]</span></a> See this phrase expounded in <i>Works</i> ('Book of +Fallacies'), ii. 440, etc.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="center"><br /><br />END OF VOL. I</p> + +<hr style="width: 33%;" /> + +<h2><a name="NOTE_ON_BENTHAMS_WRITINGS" id="NOTE_ON_BENTHAMS_WRITINGS"></a>NOTE ON BENTHAM'S WRITINGS</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +The following account of Bentham's writings may be of some use. The +arrangement is intended to show what were the topics which attracted +his attention at successive periods.</p> + +<p>The collected <i>Works</i>, edited by Bowring, appeared from 1838 to 1843 +in eleven volumes, the last two containing the life and an elaborate +index. The first nine volumes consist partly of the works already +published; partly of works published for the first time from Bentham's +<small>MSS.</small>; and partly of versions of Dumont's redactions of Bentham. +Dumont's publications were (1) <i>Traités de Legislation civile et +pénale</i> (1802; second edition, revised, 1820): [vol. i. contains +<i>Principes généraux de Legislation</i> and <i>Principes du Code civil</i>; +vol. ii. <i>Principes du Code pénal</i>; and vol. iii. <i>Mémoire sur le +Panoptique</i>, <i>De la Promulgation des Lois</i>, <i>De l'Influence du Temps +et des Lieux</i>, and <i>Vue générale d'un Corps complet des Lois</i>]; (2) +<i>Théorie des Peines et des Récompenses</i>, 1811, 1818, 1825; (3) +<i>Tactiques des Assemblées déliberantes et Traité des Sophismes +politiques</i>, 1816; (4) <i>Traité des Preuves judiciaires</i>, 1823; and (5) +<i>De l'Organisation judiciaire et de la Codification</i>, 1823.</p> + +<p>In the following I give references to the place of each work in +Bowring's edition.</p> + +<p>Bentham's first book was the <i>Fragment on Government</i>, 1776 (i. +221-295). An interesting 'historical preface,' intended for a second +edition (i. 240-259), was first printed in 1828. The <i>Fragment</i>, +edited by Mr. F. C. Montague, was republished in 1891.</p> + +<p>The <i>Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation</i> was +published in 1789, in one vol. 4to (i. 1-154). It had been +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +printed in +1780. A second edition, in two vols. 8vo, appeared in 1823. It was +intended as an introduction to the plan of a penal code. Bentham says +in his preface that his scheme would be completed by a series of works +applying his principles to (1) civil law; (2) penal law; (3) +procedure; (4) reward; (5) constitutional law; (6) political tactics; +(7) international law; (8) finance; and (9) political economy, and by +a tenth treatise giving a plan of a body of law 'considered in respect +of its form,' that is, upon 'nomography.' He wrote more or less in the +course of his life upon all these topics. Dumont's <i>Traités</i> of 1802 +were based partly upon the <i>Introduction</i> and partly upon Bentham's +<small>MSS.</small> corresponding to unfinished parts of this general scheme.</p> + +<p>The two first sections of this scheme are represented in the <i>Works</i> +by <i>Principles of the Civil Code</i> (i. 297-364) and <i>Principles of +Penal Law</i> (i. 365-580). The <i>Principles of the Civil Code</i> is +translated from Dumont's <i>Traités</i>, where it follows a condensed +statement of 'general principles' taken from the opening chapters of +the <i>Introduction</i>. An appendix 'on the levelling system' is added in +the <i>Works</i> from Bentham's <small>MSS.</small> The <i>Principles of Penal Law</i> consists +of three parts: the first and third (on 'political remedies for the +evil of offences' and on 'indirect means of preventing crimes') are +translated from parts 2 and 4 of Dumont's <i>Principes du Code pénal</i> +(parts 1 and 3 of Dumont being adaptations from the <i>Introduction to +Morals and Legislation</i>). The second part of the <i>Penal Law</i>, or <i>The +Rationale of Punishment</i> is from Dumont's <i>Théorie des Peines et des +Récompenses</i>. Dumont took it from a <small>MS.</small> written by Bentham in 1775. +(See Bentham's <i>Works</i>, i. 388.) An appendix on 'Death Punishment,' +addressed by Bentham to the French people in 1830, is added to Part +II. in the <i>Works</i> (i. 525-532). No. 4 of Bentham's general scheme +corresponds to the <i>Rationale of Reward</i>, founded upon two <small>MSS.</small>, one +in French and one in English, used by Dumont in the <i>Théorie des +Peines et des Récompenses</i>. The English version in the <i>Works</i>, +chiefly translated from Dumont and compared with the original +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +manuscript, was first published in 1825 (ii. 189-266). Richard Smith +'of the Stamps and Taxes' was the editor of this and of an edition of +the <i>Rationale of Punishment</i> in 1831, and of various minor treatises. +(Bentham's <i>Works</i>, x. 548 <i>n.</i>)</p> + +<p>The <i>Table of the Springs of Action</i> (i. 195-220), written at an early +period, was printed in 1815, and published, with modifications, in +1817. The <i>Vue générale</i> included in the <i>Traités</i> of 1802 was +intended by Bentham as a sketch for his own guidance, and is +translated as <i>View of a Complete Code of Laws</i> in the <i>Works</i> (iii. +154-210). The two essays in the 1802 <i>Traités</i> on 'the promulgation of +laws' and the 'influence of time and place in matters of legislation' +are translated in <i>Works</i> (i. 157-194). A fragment on <i>International +Law</i>—a phrase invented by Bentham—written between 1786 and 1789, +first appeared in the <i>Works</i> (ii. 535-571), with <i>Junctiana +proposal</i>—a plan for a canal between the Atlantic and the +Pacific—written in 1822, as an appendix.</p> + +<p>Besides the above, all written before 1789 in pursuance of his scheme, +Bentham had published in 1778 his <i>View of the Hard Labour Bill</i> (iv. +1-36); and in 1787 his <i>Defence of Usury</i> (iii. 1-29). A third edition +of the last (with the 'protest against law taxes') was published in +1816.</p> + +<p>During the following period (1789-1802) Bentham wrote various books, +more or less suggested by the French revolution. The <i>Essay on +Political Tactics</i> (ii. 299-373), (corresponding to No. 6 of the +scheme), was sent to Morellet in 1789, but first published by Dumont +in 1816. With it Dumont also published the substance of the +<i>Anarchical Fallacies</i> (ii. 489-534), written about 1791. A <i>Draught +of a Code for the Organisation of the Judicial Establishment of +France</i>, dated March 1790, is reprinted in <i>Works</i> iv. 285-406. <i>Truth +v. Ashhurst</i>, written in 1792 (v. 231-237), was first published in +1823. A <i>Manual of Political Economy</i>, written by 1793 (see <i>Works</i>, +iii. 73 <i>n.</i>), corresponds to No. 9 of his scheme. A chapter appeared +in the <i>Bibliothèque Britannique</i> in 1798. It was partly used in +Dumont's <i>Théorie des Récompenses</i>, and first published in English in +<i>Works</i> (iii.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> 31-84). +<i>Emancipate your Colonies</i> (iv. 407-481) was +privately printed in 1793, and first published for sale in 1830. A +<i>Protest against Law Taxes</i>, printed in 1793, was published in 1795 +together with <i>Supply without Burthen, or Escheat vice Taxation</i>, +written in 1794. To them is appended a short paper called <i>Tax with +Monopoly</i> (ii. 573-600). <i>A Plan for saving all Trouble and Expense in +the Transfer of Stock</i>, written and partly printed in 1800, was first +published in <i>Works</i> (iii. 105-153).</p> + +<p>During this period Bentham was also occupied with the Panopticon, and +some writings refer to it. <i>The Panopticon, or the Inspection House</i> +(iv. 37-172), written in 1787, was published in 1791. <i>The Panopticon +versus New South Wales</i> (iv. 173-248) appeared in 1802; and <i>A Plea +for the Constitution</i> (on transportation to New South Wales) (iv. +249-284), in 1803. Closely connected with these are <i>Poor-laws and +Pauper Management</i> (viii. 358-461), reprinted from Arthur Young's +<i>Annals</i> of September 1797 and following months; and <i>Observations on +the Poor Bill</i> (viii. 440-459), written in February 1797, privately +printed in 1838, and first published in the <i>Works</i>.</p> + +<p>About 1802 Bentham returned to jurisprudence. James Mill prepared from +the papers then written an <i>Introductory View of the Rationale of +Evidence</i>, finished and partly printed in 1812 (see <i>Works</i>, x. 468 +<i>n.</i> and Bain's <i>James Mill</i>, 105, 120). Dumont's <i>Traité des Preuves +judiciaires</i> (1823) was a redaction of the original papers, and an +English translation of this appeared in 1825. The parts referring to +English Law were omitted. The <i>Rationale of Evidence</i> (5 vols. 8vo, +1827), edited by J. S. Mill, represents a different and fuller +redaction of the same papers. It is reprinted in vols. vi. and vii. of +the <i>Works</i> with the <i>Introductory View</i> (now first published) +prefixed. To the same period belongs <i>Scotch Reform</i>, with a <i>Summary +View of a Plan for a Judicatory</i>, 1808 (second edition 1811, v. 1-60).</p> + +<p>After 1808 Bentham's attention was especially drawn to political +questions. His <i>Catechism of Parliamentary Reform</i> (iii. 433-557), +written in 1809, was first published with a long 'introduction' in the +<i>Pamphleteer</i> for January 1817. Bentham's +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> <i>Radical Reform Bill, with +explanations</i> (iii. 558-597) followed in December 1819. <i>Radicalism +not dangerous</i> (iii. 598-622), written at the same time, first +appeared in the <i>Works</i> (iii. 398-622). <i>Elements of the Art of +Packing as applied to Special Juries, especially in Cases of Libel +Law</i> (v. 61-186), written in 1809, was published in 1821. <i>Swear not +at all</i> (v. 188-229) (referring chiefly to Oxford tests), written in +1813, was published in 1817. <i>The King against Edmonds</i> and <i>The King +against Wolseley</i> (v. 239-261) were published in 1820. <i>Official +Aptitude minimized; Official Expense limited</i> (v. 263-286), is a +series of papers, first collected in 1831. It contains a <i>Defence of +Economy against Burke</i>, and a <i>Defence of Economy against George +Rose</i>, both written in 1810, and published in the <i>Pamphleteer</i> in +1817, with <i>Observations</i> on a speech by Peel in 1825, and +<i>Indications respecting Lord Eldon</i>. The two last appeared in 1825. +Connected with these political writings is the <i>Book of Fallacies</i> +(ii. 375-488), edited by Bingham in 1824, from the 'most unfinished of +all Bentham's writings.' Allusions seem to show that the original <small>MSS.</small> +were written from 1810 to 1819. It was partly published by Dumont with +the <i>Tactique, etc.</i></p> + +<p>Bentham, during this period (1808-1820), was also led into various +outlying questions. <i>The Pannomial Fragments</i>, <i>Nomography</i>, and +<i>Appendix on Logical Arrangements employed by Jeremy Bentham</i> (iii. +211-295) were first published in the <i>Works</i> from <small>MSS.</small> written from +1813 to 1831. With the <i>Chrestomathia</i> (viii. 1-192), first published +in 1816, are connected fragments upon 'Ontology,' 'Language,' and +'Universal Grammar' (viii. 193-358), first published in <i>Works</i> from +fragments of <small>MSS.</small> of 1813 and later. George Bentham's <i>Outline of a +New System of Logic</i> was partly founded upon his uncle's papers. +Bentham at the Ford Abbey time (1814-1818) was also writing his +<i>Church of Englandism and its Catechism examined</i>, 1818. The <i>Analysis +of the Influence of Natural Religion upon the Temporal Happiness of +Mankind</i>, by Philip Beauchamp, edited by George Grote, appeared in +1822; and <i>Not Paul but Jesus</i>, by Gamaliel +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> Smith, in 1823. Francis +Place helped in preparing this at Ford Abbey in 1817 (Mr. Wallas's +<i>Life of Place</i>, p. 83). <i>Mother Church of England relieved by +Bleeding</i> (1823) and the <i>Book of Church Reform</i> (1831) are extracted +from <i>Church of Englandism</i>. Bowring did not admit these works to his +collection.</p> + +<p>In his later years (1820-1832) Bentham began to be specially occupied +with codification. <i>Papers upon Codification and Public Instruction</i> +(iv. 451-534) consist chiefly of letters, written from 1811 to 1815, +offering himself for employment in codification in America and Russia, +and first published in 1817. In 1821 appeared <i>Three Tracts relating +to Spanish and Portuguese Affairs, with a Continual Eye to English +ones</i>; and in 1822 <i>Three Letters to Count Toreno on the proposed +Penal Code</i> (in Spain) (viii. 460-554). A short tract on <i>Liberty of +the Press</i> was addressed to the Spanish people in 1821 (ii. 275-299). +<i>Codification Proposals</i> (iv. 535-594) appeared in 1823, offering to +prepare an 'all-comprehensive code of law' for 'any nation professing +liberal opinions.' <i>Securities against Misrule addressed to a +Mahommedan State, and prepared with a special Reference to Tripoli</i>, +written in 1822-23, was first published in the <i>Works</i> (viii. +551-600). A tract on the <i>Leading Principles of a Constitutional Code</i> +(ii. 267-274) appeared in the <i>Pamphleteer</i> in 1823. The first volume +of the <i>Constitutional Code</i>, printed in 1827, was published with the +first chapter of the second volume in 1830. The whole book, edited by +R. Doane from papers written between 1818 and 1832, was published in +1841, and forms volume ix. of the <i>Works</i>. Doane also edited +<i>Principles of Judicial Procedure</i> (ii. 1-188) from papers written +chiefly from 1820 to 1827, though part had been written in 1802. +Several thousand pages upon this subject—the third part of the +original scheme—were left by Bentham at his death.</p> + +<p>During his last years Bentham also wrote a <i>Commentary on Mr. +Humphrey's Real Property Code</i>, published in the <i>Westminster Review</i> +for October 1826 (v. 387-416); <i>Justice and Codification Petitions</i> +(v. 437-548), printed in 1829; <i>Jeremy Bentham to his Fellow-Citizens +in France on Houses of Peers and Senates</i> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> (iv. 419-450), dated 15th +October 1830; <i>Equity Dispatch Court Proposals</i> (iii. 297-432), first +published in <i>Works</i> and written from 1829 to 1831; <i>Outline of a Plan +of a General Register of Real Property</i> (v. 417-435), published in the +Report of the Real Property Commission in 1832; and <i>Lord Brougham +Displayed</i> (v. 549-612), 1832.</p> + +<p>The <i>Deontology</i> or <i>Science of Morality</i> was published by Bowring in +two vols. 8vo in 1834, but omitted from the <i>Works</i>, as the original +edition was not exhausted. The <small>MS.</small> preserved at University College, +London, shows that a substantial beginning had been made in 1814; most +of the remainder about 1820. The second volume, made, as Bowring says, +from a number of scraps, is probably more 'Bowringised' than the +first.</p> + +<p>Dumont's <i>Traités</i> were translated into Spanish in 1821, and the +<i>Works</i> in 1841-43. There are also Russian and Italian translations. +In 1830 a translation from Dumont, edited by F. E. Beneke, as +<i>Grundsätze der Civil- und Criminal-Gesetzgebung</i>, etc., was published +at Berlin. Beneke observes that Bentham had hitherto received little +attention in Germany, though well known in other countries. He reports +a saying attributed to Mme. de Staël that the age was that of Bentham, +not of Byron or Buonaparte. The neglect of Bentham in Germany was due, +as Beneke says, to the prevalence of the Kantian philosophy. Bentham, +however, had been favourably noticed in the <i>Hermes</i> for 1822, and his +merits since acknowledged by Mittermaier and Warnkönig in the +<i>Zeitschrift für Rechtswissenschaft</i>. Beneke (1798-1854) was opposed +to the Hegelian tendencies of his time, and much influenced by +Herbart. See Ueberweg's <i>History of Philosophy</i> (English translation, +1874, ii. 281, etc.) and the account of Bentham in Robert von Mohl's +<i>Staatswissenschaften</i>, etc. (1853), iii. 595-635.</p> + +<p>A great mass of Bentham <small>MSS.</small> belongs to University College, London. +They are contained in 148 boxes, which were examined and catalogued by +Mr. T. Whittaker in 1892. A +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> +few of these contain correspondence, part +of which was printed by Bowring. Others are the manuscripts of +published works. Some are upon the same subjects as the published +works, and others refer to topics not included in his publications. +Besides the <i>Deontology</i> manuscripts and a fragment upon 'Political +Deontology,' there is a discussion of the means of suppressing duels, +an argument against the legal punishment of certain offences against +decency, and a criticism of the gospel narrative similar to <i>Not +Paul</i>, etc. I have not thought it necessary to examine these fragments +after reading Mr. Whittaker's report. Bentham's principles are +sufficiently stated in his published works; and the papers which have +been reposing in the cellars of University College can have had no +influence upon the world. There is another large collection of <small>MSS.</small> in +the British Museum from the papers of Bentham and his brother, Sir +Samuel. Ten folio volumes contain correspondence, much of it referring +only to Sir Samuel. A long correspondence upon the acquisition of the +'Panopticon' land is included. Another volume contains many of +Bentham's school and college exercises. There are also the manuscripts +of the <i>Nomography</i>, <i>Logical Arrangements</i>, etc. This collection was +used by Bowring and by Lady Bentham in the life of her husband.</p> + +<p class="center"><br /><br />Printed by T. and A. <span class="smcap">Constable</span>, Printers to Her Majesty at the +Edinburgh University Press</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The English Utilitarians, Volume I., by +Leslie Stephen + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENGLISH UTILITARIANS, VOLUME I *** + +***** This file should be named 27597-h.htm or 27597-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/5/9/27597/ + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Paul Dring, Henry Craig and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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