“‘John, my night-cap!’

“I rose to go, and one or two others did the same; Neal sat still.  ‘Ah!’ said Bentham, as he drew a black silk night-cap over his spare gray hair, ’you think that’s a hint to go.  Not a bit of it.  Sit down!  I’ll tell you when I am tired.  I’m going to vibrate a little; that assists digestion, too.’

“And with that he descended into the trench-like passage, of which I have spoken, and commenced walking briskly back and forth, his head nearly on a level with ours, as we sat.  Of course we all turned toward him.  For full half an hour, as he walked, did he continue to pour forth such a witty and eloquent invective against kings, priests, and their retainers, as I have seldom listened to.  Then he returned to the head of the table and kept up the conversation, without flagging, till midnight ere he dismissed us.

     “His parting words to me were characteristic:—­’God bless
     you,—­if there be such a being; and at all events, my young
     friend, take care of yourself.’”

His weak childhood had been followed by a healthy and robust old age.  But he wore out at last, and died June 6, 1832, characteristically leaving his body to be dissected for the benefit of science.  The greater part of his published writings were collected by Sir John Browning, his executor, and issued in nine large volumes in 1843.

OF THE PRINCIPLE OF UTILITY

From ‘An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation’

Nature has placed mankind 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.  On the one hand the standard of right and wrong, on the other the chain of causes and effects, are fastened to their throne.  They govern us in all we do, in all we say, in all we think; every effort we can make to throw off our subjection will serve but to demonstrate and confirm it.  In words a man may pretend to abjure their empire; but in reality he will remain subject to it all the while.  The principle of utility recognizes this subjection, and assumes it for the foundation of that system, the object of which is to rear the fabric of felicity by the hands of reason and of law.  Systems which attempt to question it deal in sounds instead of sense, in caprice instead of reason, in darkness instead of light.

But enough of metaphor and declamation:  it is not by such means that moral science is to be improved.

The principle of utility is the foundation of the present work; it will be proper, therefore, at the outset to give an explicit and determinate account of what is meant by it.  By the principle of utility is meant that principle which approves or disapproves of every action whatsoever, according to the tendency which it appears to have to augment or diminish the happiness of the party whose interest is in question; or, what is the same thing in other words, to promote or to oppose that happiness.  I say of every action whatsoever; and therefore not only of every action of a private individual, but of every measure of government.