He acknowledged, somewhat superciliously, that their
hearts were in the right place; yet, if we are to have
ethics at all, were not their thoughts in the right
place also? They were concerned not with analysis
of the moral consciousness but with the conduct of
affairs and the reform of institutions. The spectacle
of human wretchedness profoundly moved them; their
minds were bent on transforming society, so that a
man’s station and its duties might cease to be
what a decayed feudal organisation and an inhuman
industrialism had made of them. They revolted
against the miserable condition of the masses of mankind,
and against the miserable consolations which official
religion, or a philosophy like Bradley’s, offered
them in their misery. The utilitarians were at
least intent on existence and on the course of events;
they wished to transform institutions to fit human
nature better, and to educate human nature by those
new institutions so that it might better realise its
latent capacities. These are matters which a man
may modify by his acts and they are therefore the
proper concern of the moralist. Were they much
to blame if they neglected to define pleasure or happiness
and used catch-words, dialectically vague, to indicate
a direction of effort politically quite unmistakable?
Doubtless their political action, like their philosophical
nomenclature, was revolutionary and relied too much
on wayward feelings ignorant of their own causes.
Revolution, no less than tradition, is but a casual
and clumsy expression of human nature in contact with
circumstances; yet pain and pleasure and spontaneous
hopes, however foolish, are direct expressions of
that contact, and speak for the soul; whereas a man’s
station and its duties are purely conventional, and
may altogether misrepresent his native capacities.
The protest of human nature against the world and
its oppressions is the strong side of every rebellion;
it was the
moral side of utilitarianism, of
the rebellion against irrational morality.
Unfortunately the English reformers were themselves
idealists of a sort, entangled in the vehicles of
perception, and talking about sensations and ideas,
pleasures and pains, as if these had been the elements
of human nature, or even of nature at large:
and only the most meagre of verbal systems, and the
most artificial, can be constructed out of such materials.
Moreover, they spoke much of pleasure and happiness,
and hardly at all of misery and pain: whereas
it would have been wiser, and truer to their real
inspiration, to have laid all the emphasis on evils
to be abated, leaving the good to shape itself in
freedom. Suffering is the instant and obvious
sign of some outrage done to human nature; without
this natural recoil, actual or imminent, no morality
would have any sanction, and no precept could be imperative.
What silliness to command me to pursue pleasure or
to avoid it, if in any case everything would be well!
Save for some shadow of dire repentance looming in