166    PART V  •  READINGS
sensation from merely subjective causes, which hold
only for this or that person’s senses but do not hold as
a principle of reason valid for everyone. . . .
Now all imperatives command either hypotheti-
cally or categorically. The former represent the prac-
tical necessity of a possible action as a means for
attaining something else that one wants (or may pos-
sibly want). The categorical imperative would be one
which represented an action as objectively necessary
in itself, without reference to another end.
Every practical law represents a possible action as
good. . . . Now if the action would be good merely as
a means to something else, so is the imperative hy-
pothetical. But if the action is represented as good in
itself, and hence as necessary in a will which of itself
conforms to reason as the principle of the will, then
the imperative is categorical. . . .
A hypothetical imperative thus says only that an
action is good for some purpose, either possible or
actual. . . . A categorical imperative, which declares
an action to be of itself objectively necessary without
reference to any purpose, i.e., without any other end,
holds as an apodeictic practical principle. . . .
If I think of a hypothetical imperative in general,
I do not know beforehand what it will contain until
its condition is given. But if I think of a categorical
imperative, I know immediately what it contains. For
since, besides the law, the imperative contains only
the necessity that the maxim1 should accord with this
law, while the law contains no conditions to restrict
it, there remains nothing but the universality of a law
as such with which the maxim of the action should
conform. This conformity alone is properly what is
represented as necessary by the imperative.
Hence there is only one categorical imperative and
it is this: Act only according to that maxim whereby
you can at the same time will that it should become
a universal law.2
Now if all imperatives of duty can be derived from
this one imperative as their principle, then there can
at least be shown what is understood by the concept
of duty and what it means, even though there is left
undecided whether what is called duty may not be an
empty concept.
The universality of law according to which effects
are produced constitutes what is properly called nature
in the most general sense (as to form), i.e., the exis-
tence of things as far as determined by universal laws.
Accordingly, the universal imperative of duty may be
expressed thus: Act as if the maxim of your action were
to become through your will a universal law of nature.3
We shall now enumerate some duties, following
the usual division of these into duties to ourselves
and to others and into perfect and imperfect duties.4
1. A man reduced to despair by a series of misfor-
tunes feels sick of life but is still so far in posses-
sion of his reason that he can ask himself whether
taking his own life would not be contrary to
his duty to himself.5 Now he asks whether the
maxim of his action could become a universal
law of nature. But his maxim is this: from self-
love I make as my principle to shorten my life
when its continued duration threatens more evil
than it promises satisfaction. There only remains
the question as to whether this principle of self-
love can become a universal law of nature. One
sees at once a contradiction in a system of nature
whose law would destroy life by means of the
very same feeling that acts so as to stimulate the
furtherance of life, and hence there could be no
existence as a system of nature. Therefore, such
a maxim cannot possibly hold as a universal law
of nature and is, consequently, wholly opposed
to the supreme principle of all duty.
2. Another man in need finds himself forced to
borrow money. He knows well that he won’t be
able to repay it, but he sees also that he will not
get any loan unless he firmly promises to repay
it within a fixed time. He wants to make such a
promise, but he still has conscience enough to ask
himself whether it is not permissible and is con-
trary to duty to get out of difficulty in this way.
Suppose, however, that he decides to do so. The
maxim of his action would then be expressed as
follows: when I believe myself to be in need of
money, I will borrow money and promise to pay
it back, although I know that I can never do so.
Now this principle of self-love or personal advan-
tage may perhaps be quite compatible with one’s
entire future welfare, but the question is now
whether it is right.6 I then transform the require-
ment of self-love into a universal law and put
the question thus: how would things stand if my
maxim were to become a universal law? He then
sees at once that such a maxim could never hold

as a universal law of nature and be consistent with
itself, but must necessarily be s­ elf-contradictory.
For the universality of a law which says that
anyone believing himself to be in difficulty could
promise whatever he pleases with the intention of
not keeping it would make promising itself and
the end to be attained thereby quite impossible,
inasmuch as no one would believe what was
promised him but would merely laugh at all such
utterances as being vain pretenses.
3. A third finds in himself a talent whose culti-
vation could make him a man useful in many
­respects. But he finds himself in comfortable
circumstances and prefers to indulge in pleasure
rather than to bother himself about broadening
and improving his fortunate natural aptitudes.
But he asks himself further whether his maxim
of neglecting his natural gifts, besides agree-
ing of itself with his propensity to indulgence,
might agree also with what is called duty.7 He
then sees that a system of nature could indeed
always subsist according to such a universal
law, even though every man (like South Sea Is-
landers) should let his talents rust and resolve to
devote his life entirely to idleness, indulgence,
propagation, and, in a word, to enjoyment. But
he cannot possibly will that this should become
a universal law of nature or be implanted in
us as such a law by a natural instinct. For as a
­rational being he necessarily wills that all his
faculties should be developed, inasmuch as they
are given him for all sorts of possible purposes.
4. A fourth man finds things going well for himself
but sees others (whom he could help) struggling
with great hardships; and he thinks: what does
it matter to me? Let everybody be as happy as
Heaven wills or as he can make himself; I shall
take nothing from him nor even envy him; but
I have no desire to contribute anything to his
well-being or to his assistance when in need. If
such a way of thinking were to become a uni-
versal law of nature, the human race admittedly
could very well subsist and doubtless could
subsist even better than when everyone prates
about sympathy and benevolence and even on
occasion exerts himself to practice them but,
on the other hand, also cheats when he can, be-
trays the rights of man, or otherwise violates
K ant   •   Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals      167
them. But even though it is possible that a uni-
versal law of nature could subsist in accordance
with that maxim, still it is impossible to will
that such a principle should hold everywhere
as a law of nature.8 For a will which resolved
in this way would contradict itself, inasmuch
as cases might often arise in which one would
have need of the love and sympathy of others
and in which he would deprive himself, by such
a law of nature springing from his own will, of
all hope of the aid he wants for himself.
These are some of the many actual duties, or at least
what are taken to be such, whose derivation from the
single principle cited above is clear. We must be able
to will that a maxim of our action become a universal
law; this is the canon for morally estimating any of
our actions. Some actions are so constituted that their
maxims cannot without contradiction even be thought
as a universal law of nature, much less be willed as
what should become one. In the case of others this
internal impossibility is indeed not found, but there is
still no possibility of willing that their maxim should
be raised to the universality of a law of nature, be-
cause such a will would contradict itself. . . .
[T]he proper and inestimable worth of an abso-
lutely good will consists precisely in the fact that the
principle of action is free of all influences from con-
tingent grounds. . . .
Therefore, the question is this: is it a necessary
law for all rational beings always to judge their ac-
tions according to such maxims as they can them-
selves will that such should serve as universal laws?
If there is such a law, then it must already be con-
nected (completely a priori) with the concept of the
will of a rational being in general. . . .
The ends which a rational being arbitrarily proposes
to himself as effects of this action (material ends) are
all merely relative, for only their relation to a specially
constituted faculty of desire in the subject gives them
their worth. Consequently, such worth cannot provide
any universal principles, which are valid and necessary
for all rational beings and, furthermore, are valid for
every volition, i.e., cannot provide any practical laws.
Therefore, all such relative ends can be grounds only
for hypothetical imperatives. . . .
Now I say that man, and in general every rational
being, exists as an end in himself and not merely as
168    PART V  •  READINGS
a means to be arbitrarily used by this or that will. He
must in all his actions, whether directed to himself
or to other rational beings, always be regarded at the
same time as an end. All the objects of inclination have
only a conditioned value; for if there were not these
inclinations and the needs founded on them, then their
object would be without value. But the inclinations
themselves, being sources of needs, are so far from
having an absolute value such as to render them de-
sirable for their own sake that the universal wish of
every rational being must be, rather, to be wholly free
from them. Accordingly, the value of any object ob-
tainable by our action is always conditioned. Beings
whose existence depends not on our will but on nature
have, nevertheless, if they are not rational beings,
only a relative value as means and are therefore called
things. On the other hand, rational beings are called
persons inasmuch as their nature already marks them
out as ends in themselves, i.e., as something which
is not to be used merely as means and hence there is
imposed thereby a limit on all arbitrary use of such
beings, which are thus objects of respect. Persons are,
therefore, not merely subjective ends, whose existence
as an effect of our actions has a value for us; but such
beings for which there can be substituted no other end
to which such beings should serve merely as means,
for otherwise nothing at all of absolute value would be
found anywhere. But if all value were conditioned and
hence contingent, then no supreme practical principle
could be found for reason at all.
If then there is to be a supreme practical principle
and, as far as the human will is concerned, a categorical
imperative, then it must be such that from the concep-
tion of what is necessarily an end for everyone because
this end is an end in itself it constitutes an objective
principle of the will and can hence serve as a practi-
cal law. The ground of such a principle is this: rational
nature exists as an end in itself. In this way man neces-
sarily thinks of his own existence; thus far is it a sub-
jective principle of human actions. But in this way also
does every other rational being think of his existence
on the same rational ground that holds also for me;
hence it is at the same time an objective principle, from
which, as a supreme practical ground, all laws of the
will must be able to be derived. The practical impera-
tive will therefore be the following: Act in such a way
that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or
in the person of another, always at the same time as an
end and never simply as a means.9 We now want to see
whether this can be carried out in practice.
Let us keep to our previous examples.
First, as regards the concept of necessary duty to
oneself, the man who contemplates suicide will ask
himself whether his action can be consistent with the
idea of humanity as an end in itself. If he destroys
himself in order to escape from a difficult situation,
then he is making use of his person merely as a means
so as to maintain a tolerable condition till the end of
this life. Man, however, is not a thing and hence is not
something to be used merely as a means; he must in
all his actions always be regarded as an end in him-
self. Therefore, I cannot dispose of man in my own
person by mutilating, damaging, or killing him. . . .
Second, as concerns necessary or strict duty to
others, the man who intends to make a false promise
will immediately see that he intends to make use of
another man merely as a means to an end which the
latter does not likewise hold. For the man whom I
want to use for my own purposes by such a prom-
ise cannot possibly concur with my way of acting
toward him and hence cannot himself hold the end
of this action. This conflict with the principle of duty
to others becomes even clearer when instances of at-
tacks on the freedom and property of others are con-
sidered. For then it becomes clear that a transgressor
of the rights of men intends to make use of the per-
sons of others merely as a means, without taking into
consideration that, as rational beings, they should
always be esteemed at the same time as ends, i.e.,
be esteemed only as beings who must themselves be
able to hold the very same action as an end.10
Third, with regard to contingent (meritorious) duty
to oneself, it is not enough that the action does not
conflict with humanity in our own person as an end in
itself; the action must also harmonize with this end.
Now there are in humanity capacities for greater per-
fection which belong to the end that nature has in view
as regards humanity in our own person. To neglect
these capacities might perhaps be consistent with the
maintenance of humanity as an end in itself, but would
not be consistent with the advancement of this end.
Fourth, concerning meritorious duty to others, the
natural end that all men have is their own happiness.
Now humanity might indeed subsist if nobody contrib-
uted anything to the happiness of others, provided he
did not intentionally impair their happiness. But this,

after all, would harmonize only negatively and not posi-
tively with humanity as an end in itself, if everyone does
not also strive, as much as he can, to further the ends of
others. For the ends of any subject who is an end in him-
self must as far as possible be my ends also, if that con-
ception of an end in itself is to have its full effect in me.
This principle of humanity and of every rational
nature generally as an end in itself is the supreme lim-
iting condition of every man’s freedom of action. . . .
[T]he ground of all practical legislation lies in the rule
and in the form of universality, which (according to
the first principle) makes the rule capable of being a
law (say, for example, a law of nature). Subjectively,
however, the ground of all practical legislation lies in
the end; but (according to the second principle) the
subject of all ends is every rational being as an end in
himself. From this there now follows the third practi-
cal principle of the will as the supreme condition of
the will’s conformity with universal practical reason,
viz., the idea of the will of every rational being as a
will that legislates universal law. . . .
The concept of every rational being as one who must
regard himself as legislating universal law by all his
will’s maxims, so that he may judge himself and his
actions from this point of view, leads to another very
fruitful concept, which depends on the aforemen-
tioned one, viz., that of a kingdom of ends.
By “kingdom” I understand a systematic union of
different rational beings through common laws. Now
laws determine ends as regards their universal valid-
ity; therefore, if one abstracts from the personal dif-
ferences of rational beings and also from all content
of their private ends, then it will be possible to think
of a whole of all ends in systematic connection (a
whole both of rational beings as ends in themselves
and also of the particular ends which each may set
for himself); that is, one can think of a kingdom of
ends that is possible on the aforesaid principles.
For all rational beings stand under the law that
each of them should treat himself and all others never
merely as a means but always at the same time as
an end in himself. Hereby arises a systematic union
of rational beings through common objective laws,
i.e., a kingdom that may be called a kingdom of ends
(certainly only an ideal), inasmuch as these laws
have in view the very relation of such beings to one
another as ends and means.11
K ant   •   Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals      169
A rational being belongs to the kingdom of ends
as a member when he legislates in it universal laws
while also being himself subject to those laws. He
belongs to it as sovereign, when as legislator he is
himself subject to the will of no other.
A rational being must always regard himself as
legislator in a kingdom of ends rendered possible
by freedom of the will, whether as member or as
sovereign. . . .
Hence morality consists in the relation of all
action to that legislation whereby alone a kingdom
of ends is possible. The legislation must be found in
every rational being and must be able to arise from
his will, whose principle then is never to act on any
maxim except such as can also be a universal law and
hence such as the will can thereby regard itself as at
the same time the legislator of universal law. . . .
The practical necessity of acting according to this
principle, i.e., duty, does not rest at all on feelings,
impulses, and inclinations, but only on the relation of
rational beings to one another, a relation in which the
will of a rational being must always be regarded at the
same time as legislative, because otherwise he could
not be thought of as an end in himself. Reason, there-
fore, relates every maxim of the will as legislating uni-
versal laws to every other will and also to every action
toward oneself; it does so not on account of any other
practical motive or future advantage but rather from
the idea of the dignity of a rational being who obeys
no law except what he at the same time enacts himself.
In the kingdom of ends everything has either a
price or a dignity. Whatever has a price can be re-
placed by something else as its equivalent; on the
other hand, whatever is above all price, and therefore
admits of no equivalent, has a dignity.
Whatever has reference to general human inclina-
tions and needs has a market price; whatever, without
presupposing any need, accords with a certain taste,
i.e., a delight in the mere unpurposive play of our
mental powers, has an affective price; but that which
constitutes the condition under which alone something
can be an end in itself has not merely a relative worth,
i.e., a price, but has an intrinsic worth, i.e., dignity.
Now morality is the condition under which alone
a rational being can be an end in himself, for only
thereby can he be a legislating member in the king-
dom of ends. Hence morality and humanity, insofar
as it is capable of morality, alone have dignity. . . .
170    PART V  •  READINGS

The aforementioned three ways of representing the
principle of morality are at bottom only so many for-
mulas of the very same law: one of them by itself con-
tains a combination of the other two. . . . All maxims
have, namely,
1. A form, which consists in universality; and
in this respect the formula of the moral im-
perative is expressed thus: maxims must be so
chosen as if they were to hold as universal laws
of nature.
2. A matter, viz., an end; and here the formula
says that a rational being, inasmuch as he is
by his very nature an end and hence an end in
himself, must serve in every maxim as a condi-
tion limiting all merely relative and arbitrary
ends.
3. A complete determination of all maxims by
the formula that all maxims proceeding from
his own legislation ought to harmonize with
a possible kingdom of ends as a kingdom of
nature.
NOTES
1. A maxim is the subjective principle of acting and
must be distinguished from the objective principle, viz., the
practical law. A maxim contains the practical rule which
reason determines in accordance with the conditions of the
subject (often his ignorance or his inclinations) and is thus
the principle according to which the subject does act. But
the law is the objective principle valid for every rational
being, and it is the principle according to which he ought
to act, i.e., an imperative.
2. [This formulation of the categorical imperative is
often referred to as the formula of universal law.]
3.  [This is often called the formula of the law of nature.]
4.  I understand here by a perfect duty one which per-
mits no exception in the interest of inclination. Accordingly,
I have perfect duties which are external [to others], while
other ones are internal [to oneself]. [See the boxed text on
p. 33 of this book for an explanation of perfect and imper-
fect duties. —DRM]
5.  [Not committing suicide is an example of a perfect
duty to oneself. . . .]
6.  [Keeping promises is an example of a perfect duty
to others. . . .]
7.  [Cultivating one’s talents is an example of an imper-
fect duty to oneself. . . .]
8. [Benefiting others is an example of an imperfect
duty to others. . . .]
9.  [This oft-quoted version of the categorical impera-
tive is usually referred to as the formula of the end in itself.]
10.  Let it not be thought that [do not do to others what
you do not want done to yourself] can here serve as a
standard or principle. For it is merely derived from our
principle, although with several limitations. It cannot be a
universal law, for it contains the ground neither of duties to
oneself nor of duties of love toward others (for many a man
would gladly consent that others should not benefit him,
if only he might be excused from benefiting them). Nor,
finally, does it contain the ground of strict duties toward
others, for the criminal would on this ground be able to
dispute with the judges who punish him; and so on.
11.  [This is usually called the formula of the kingdom
of ends.]

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1.  What is Kant’s initial argument that a good will is the only thing that is good in itself?
2.  In illustrating the Formula of Universal Law, Kant discusses four different (alleged) moral duties:
the duty not to commit suicide, the duty to keep your promises, the duty to develop your talents,
and the duty to help others. Are you persuaded by his arguments that the Formula of Universal Law
shows that each of those things is really a duty?
3.  What is the connection, according to Kant, between the Formula of Universal Law and the Formula
of the End in Itself?
4.  In illustrating the Formula of the End in Itself, Kant revisits the four (alleged) duties that he used in
explaining the Formula of the Universal Law. Are you persuaded by his arguments that the Formula
of the End in Itself shows that each of those things is really a duty?
5.  How is the Formula of the Kingdom of Ends related to the Formula of the Universal Law and the
Formula of the End in Itself?
 B entham   •  An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation      171

JEREMY BENTHAM (1748–1832)

An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and

Legislation

Jeremy Bentham’s Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation is one of the
earliest statements of the normative theory known as utilitarianism. In these short excerpts,
­Bentham explains the basic idea behind the theory and presents his “felicific calculus,” which
tells you how to calculate the amount of happiness or unhappiness that a particular action or
law would bring about. Unlike most of the other readings in this section, this reading does
not contain much of an argument; it is mostly just an explanation of Bentham’s view.

GUIDING QUESTIONS
1.  What is the “principle of utility,” in your own words? What does Bentham mean by “utility”?
2.  What is the purpose of the principle of utility, according to Bentham? Does Bentham want to apply
it to individuals’ actions, to laws, or to both?
3.  In Chapter IV, Bentham explains the different factors that affect the overall goodness or bad-
ness of an action. He divides these into three groups, introduced in sections II, III, and IV,
respectively. What is the difference between the factors introduced in section II and the factors
introduced in section III? What is the difference between all of those factors and the one that’s
added in section IV?

CHAPTER I. OF THE PRINCIPLE
OF UTILITY
I. 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 subjec-
tion, will serve but to demonstrate and confirm it. In
Public domain.
words a man may pretend to abjure their empire: but
in reality he will remain subject to it all the while.
The principle of utility1 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.
II. The principle of utility is the foundation of the
present work: it will be proper therefore at the outset
172    PART V  •  READINGS
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 it ap-
pears 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 whatso-
ever, and therefore not only of every action of a pri-
vate individual, but of every measure of government.
III. By utility is meant that property in any object,
whereby it tends to produce benefit, advantage, plea-
sure, good, or happiness, (all this in the present case
comes to the same thing) or (what comes again to
the same thing) to prevent the happening of mischief,
pain, evil, or unhappiness to the party whose interest
is considered: if that party be the community in gen-
eral, then the happiness of the community: if a partic-
ular individual, then the happiness of that individual.
IV. The interest of the community is one of the most
general expressions that can occur in the phraseology
of morals: no wonder that the meaning of it is often
lost. When it has a meaning, it is this. The commu-
nity is a fictitious body, composed of the individual
persons who are considered as constituting as it were
its members. The interest of the community then is,
what is it?—the sum of the interests of the several
members who compose it.
V. It is in vain to talk of the interest of the community,
without understanding what is the interest of the indi-
vidual. A thing is said to promote the interest, or to be
for the interest, of an individual, when it tends to add
to the sum total of his pleasures: or, what comes to
the same thing, to diminish the sum total of his pains.
VI. An action then may be said to be conformable
to the principle of utility, or, for shortness sake, to
utility, (meaning with respect to the community at
large) when the tendency it has to augment the hap-
piness of the community is greater than any it has to
diminish it.
VII. A measure of government (which is but a partic-
ular kind of action, performed by a particular person
or persons) may be said to be conformable to or dic-
tated by the principle of utility, when in like manner
the tendency which it has to augment the happiness
of the community is greater than any which it has to
diminish it.
VIII. When an action, or in particular a measure of
government, is supposed by a man to be conformable
to the principle of utility, it may be convenient, for
the purposes of discourse, to imagine a kind of law or
dictate, called a law or dictate of utility: and to speak
of the action in question, as being conformable to
such law or dictate.
IX. A man may be said to be a partizan of the princi-
ple of utility, when the approbation or disapprobation
he annexes to any action, or to any measure, is de-
termined by and proportioned to the tendency which
he conceives it to have to augment or to diminish the
happiness of the community: or in other words, to its
conformity or unconformity to the laws or dictates
of utility.
X. Of an action that is conformable to the principle
of utility one may always say either that it is one that
ought to be done, or at least that it is not one that ought
not to be done. One may say also, that it is right it
should be done; at least that it is not wrong it should
be done: that it is a right action; at least that it is not a
wrong action. When thus interpreted, the words ought,
and right and wrong and others of that stamp, have a
meaning: when otherwise, they have none.
XI. Has the rectitude of this principle been ever
formally contested? It should seem that it had, by
those who have not known what they have been
meaning. Is it susceptible of any direct proof? it
should seem not: for that which is used to prove
every thing else, cannot itself be proved: a chain
of proofs must have their commencement some-
where. To give such proof is as impossible as it is
needless. . . .
 B entham   •   An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation       173
CHAPTER IV. VALUE OF A LOT
OF PLEASURE OR PAIN, HOW
MEASURED
I. Pleasures then, and the avoidance of pains, are the
ends that the legislator has in view; it behoves him
therefore to understand their value. Pleasures and
pains are the instruments he has to work with: it be-
hoves him therefore to understand their force, which
is again, in other words, their value.
II. To a person considered by himself, the value
of a pleasure or pain considered by itself, will be
greater or less, according to the four following
circumstances:
1. Its intensity.
2. Its duration.
3. Its certainty or uncertainty.
4. Its propinquity [i.e., closeness] or remoteness
[in time].
III. These are the circumstances which are to be con-
sidered in estimating a pleasure or a pain considered
each of them by itself. But when the value of any
pleasure or pain is considered for the purpose of es-
timating the tendency of any act by which it is pro-
duced, there are two other circumstances to be taken
into the account; these are,
1. Its fecundity, or the chance it has of being fol-
lowed by sensations of the same kind: that is,
pleasures, if it be a pleasure: pains, if it be a
pain.
2. Its purity, or the chance it has of not being fol-
lowed by sensations of the opposite kind: that
is, pains, if it be a pleasure: pleasures, if it be
a pain.
These two last, however, are in strictness scarcely
to be deemed properties of the pleasure or the pain
itself; they are not, therefore, in strictness to be taken
into the account of the value of that pleasure or that
pain. They are in strictness to be deemed properties
only of the act, or other event, by which such plea-
sure or pain has been produced; and accordingly are
only to be taken into the account of the tendency of
such act or such event.
IV. To a number of persons, with reference to each
of whom to the value of a pleasure or a pain is con-
sidered, it will be greater or less, according to seven
circumstances: to wit, the six preceding ones; viz.,
1. Its intensity.
2. Its duration.
3. Its certainty or uncertainty.
4. Its propinquity [i.e., closeness] or remoteness
[in time].
5. Its fecundity.
6. Its purity.
And one other; to wit:
7. Its extent; that is, the number of persons to
whom it extends; or (in other words) who are
affected by it.
V. To take an exact account then of the general ten-
dency of any act, by which the interests of a commu-
nity are affected, proceed as follows. Begin with any
one person of those whose interests seem most im-
mediately to be affected by it: and take an account,
1. Of the value of each distinguishable pleasure
which appears to be produced by it in the first
instance.
2. Of the value of each pain which appears to be
produced by it in the first instance.
3. Of the value of each pleasure which appears
to be produced by it after the first. This consti-
tutes the fecundity of the first pleasure and the
impurity of the first pain.
4. Of the value of each pain which appears to be
produced by it after the first. This constitutes
the fecundity of the first pain, and the impurity
of the first pleasure.
5. Sum up all the values of all the pleasures on
the one side, and those of all the pains on
the other. The balance, if it be on the side
of pleasure, will give the good tendency of
the act upon the whole, with respect to the
interests of that individual person; if on the
side of pain, the bad tendency of it upon
the whole.
174    PART V  •  READINGS
6. 
Take an account of the number of persons
whose interests appear to be concerned; and
repeat the above process with respect to each.
Sum up the numbers expressive of the degrees
of good tendency, which the act has, with re-
spect to each individual, in regard to whom the
tendency of it is good upon the whole: do this
again with respect to each individual, in regard
to whom the tendency of it is good upon the
whole: do this again with respect to each in-
dividual, in regard to whom the tendency of it
is bad upon the whole. Take the balance which
if on the side of pleasure, will give the general
good tendency of the act, with respect to the
total number or community of individuals con-
cerned; if on the side of pain, the general evil
tendency, with respect to the same community.
VI. It is not to be expected that this process should
be strictly pursued previously to every moral judg-
ment, or to every legislative or judicial operation. It
may, however, be always kept in view: and as near as
the process actually pursued on these occasions ap-
proaches to it, so near will such process approach to
the character of an exact one.
VII. The same process is alike applicable to plea-
sure and pain, in whatever shape they appear: and
by whatever denomination they are distinguished: to
pleasure, whether it be called good (which is prop-
erly the cause or instrument of pleasure) or profit
(which is distant pleasure, or the cause or instrument
of, distant pleasure,) or convenience, or advantage,
benefit, emolument, happiness, and so forth: to pain,
whether it be called evil, (which corresponds to
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1.  How do Bentham’s views about human psychology, as explained in Chapter I, influence his moral
philosophy?
2.  In your own words, how does Bentham think we can compare the goodness or badness of different
actions?
3.  Bentham’s principle of utility is sometimes paraphrased as saying that the right action is the one that
produces “the greatest happiness for the greatest number.” Is this an accurate way of explaining the
principle of utility? Why or why not?
good) or mischief, or inconvenience or disadvantage,
or loss, or unhappiness, and so forth.
VIII. Nor is this a novel and unwarranted, any more
than it is a useless theory. In all this there is nothing
but what the practice of mankind, wheresoever they
have a clear view of their own interest, is perfectly
conformable to. An article of property, an estate in
land, for instance, is valuable, on what account? On
account of the pleasures of all kinds which it enables
a man to produce, and what comes to the same thing
the pains of all kinds which it enables him to avert.
But the value of such an article of property is univer-
sally understood to rise or fall according to the length
or shortness of the time which a man has in it: the
certainty or uncertainty of its coming into possession:
and the nearness or remoteness of the time at which,
if at all, it is to come into possession. As to the inten-
sity of the pleasures which a man may derive from it,
this is never thought of, because it depends upon the
use which each particular person may come to make
of it; which cannot be estimated till the particular
pleasures he may come to derive from it, or the par-
ticular pains he may come to exclude by means of it,
are brought to view. For the same reason, neither does
he think of the fecundity or purity of those pleasures.
Thus much for pleasure and pain, happiness and un-
happiness, in general. We come now to consider the
several particular kinds of pain and pleasure.
NOTE
1. [In a later edition, Bentham adds a footnote here
explaining that it might have been better to call this the
principle of “happiness” because it clarifies the principle’s
connection to pleasure and pain. —DRM]
 M ill   •  Utilitarianism      175

JOHN STUART MILL (1806–1873)

Utilitarianism

J. S. Mill originally published Utilitarianism in order to explain the theory of utilitarianism

and defend it against its critics. These excerpts include parts of two different chapters. One
­chapter explains what utilitarianism is and defends it against various objections. It also
­introduces Mill’s controversial idea that some pleasures are of higher quality than others.
The other chapter discusses the relationship between utilitarianism and justice.

GUIDING QUESTIONS
1.  What is the Greatest Happiness Principle, and what role does it play in Mill’s moral philosophy?
2.  How, according to Mill, does one determine which pleasures are of higher quality than others?
3.  What are the major criticisms of utilitarianism to which Mill is replying in Chapter 2?
4.  What is Mill’s main point in Chapter 5? What is his argument for that main point?

CHAPTER 2.
WHAT pleasure inherent in themselves, or as means to the

UTILITARIANISM IS
The creed which accepts as the foundation of morals,
Utility, or the Greatest Happiness Principle, holds
that actions are right in proportion as they tend to
promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce
the reverse of happiness. By happiness is intended
pleasure, and the absence of pain; by unhappiness,
pain, and the privation of pleasure. To give a clear
view of the moral standard set up by the theory, much
more requires to be said; in particular, what things
it includes in the ideas of pain and pleasure; and to
what extent this is left an open question. But these
supplementary explanations do not affect the theory
of life on which this theory of morality is grounded—
namely, that pleasure, and freedom from pain, are
the only things desirable as ends; and that all desir-
able things (which are as numerous in the utilitarian
as in any other scheme) are desirable either for the
Public domain.
promotion of pleasure and the prevention of pain.
Now, such a theory of life excites in many minds,
and among them in some of the most estimable in
feeling and purpose, inveterate dislike. To suppose
that life has (as they express it) no higher end than
pleasure—no better and nobler object of desire
and pursuit—they designate as utterly mean and
grovelling; as a doctrine worthy only of swine, to
whom the followers of Epicurus were, at a very early
period, contemptuously likened; and modern holders
of the doctrine are occasionally made the subject of
equally polite comparisons by its German, French, and
­English assailants.
When thus attacked, the Epicureans have always
answered, that it is not they, but their accusers, who
represent human nature in a degrading light; since
the accusation supposes human beings to be ca-
pable of no pleasures except those of which swine
are capable. If this supposition were true, the charge
could not be gainsaid, but would then be no longer
an imputation; for if the sources of pleasure were
176    PART V  •  READINGS
precisely the same to human beings and to swine,
the rule of life which is good enough for the one
would be good enough for the other. The compari-
son of the Epicurean life to that of beasts is felt as
degrading, precisely because a beast’s pleasures do
not satisfy a human being’s conceptions of happi-
ness. Human beings have faculties more elevated
than the animal appetites, and when once made
conscious of them, do not regard anything as hap-
piness which does not include their gratification. I
do not, indeed, consider the Epicureans to have been
by any means faultless in drawing out their scheme
of consequences from the utilitarian principle. To do
this in any sufficient manner, many Stoic, as well as
Christian elements require to be included. But there
is no known Epicurean theory of life which does not
assign to the pleasures of the intellect, of the feel-
ings and imagination, and of the moral sentiments,
a much higher value as pleasures than to those of
mere sensation. It must be admitted, however, that
utilitarian writers in general have placed the superi-
ority of mental over bodily pleasures chiefly in the
greater permanency, safety, uncostliness, etc., of the
former—that is, in their circumstantial advantages
rather than in their intrinsic nature. And on all these
points utilitarians have fully proved their case; but
they might have taken the other, and, as it may be
called, higher ground, with entire consistency. It is
quite compatible with the principle of utility to rec-
ognise the fact, that some kinds of pleasure are more
desirable and more valuable than others. It would
be absurd that while, in estimating all other things,
quality is considered as well as quantity, the estima-
tion of pleasures should be supposed to depend on
quantity alone.
If I am asked, what I mean by difference of qual-
ity in pleasures, or what makes one pleasure more
valuable than another, merely as a pleasure, except
its being greater in amount, there is but one possible
answer. Of two pleasures, if there be one to which all
or almost all who have experience of both give a de-
cided preference, irrespective of any feeling of moral
obligation to prefer it, that is the more desirable plea-
sure. If one of the two is, by those who are compe-
tently acquainted with both, placed so far above the
other that they prefer it, even though knowing it to
be attended with a greater amount of discontent, and
would not resign it for any quantity of the other plea-
sure which their nature is capable of, we are justified
in ascribing to the preferred enjoyment a superiority
in quality, so far outweighing quantity as to render it,
in comparison, of small account.
Now it is an unquestionable fact that those who
are equally acquainted with, and equally capable
of appreciating and enjoying, both, do give a most
marked preference to the manner of existence which
employs their higher faculties. Few human creatures
would consent to be changed into any of the lower
animals, for a promise of the fullest allowance of a
beast’s pleasures; no intelligent human being would
consent to be a fool, no instructed person would be
an ignoramus, no person of feeling and conscience
would be selfish and base, even though they should
be persuaded that the fool, the dunce, or the rascal is
better satisfied with his lot than they are with theirs.
They would not resign what they possess more
than he for the most complete satisfaction of all the
desires which they have in common with him. If they
ever fancy they would, it is only in cases of unhap-
piness so extreme, that to escape from it they would
­exchange their lot for almost any other, however
­undesirable in their own eyes. A being of higher
faculties requires more to make him happy, is capable
probably of more acute suffering, and certainly
­accessible to it at more points, than one of an infe-
rior type; but in spite of these liabilities, he can never
really wish to sink into what he feels to be a lower
grade of existence. We may give what explanation
we please of this unwillingness; we may attribute it
to pride, a name which is given indiscriminately to
some of the most and to some of the least estimable
feelings of which mankind are capable: we may refer
it to the love of liberty and personal independence, an
appeal to which was with the Stoics one of the most
effective means for the inculcation of it; to the love
of power, or to the love of excitement, both of which
do really enter into and contribute to it: but its most
appropriate appellation is a sense of dignity, which
all human beings possess in one form or other, and
in some, though by no means in exact, proportion to
their higher faculties, and which is so essential a part
of the happiness of those in whom it is strong, that

nothing which conflicts with it could be, otherwise
than momentarily, an object of desire to them.
Whoever supposes that this preference takes place
at a sacrifice of happiness—that the superior being,
in anything like equal circumstances, is not happier
than the inferior—confounds the two very differ-
ent ideas, of happiness, and content. It is indisput-
able that the being whose capacities of enjoyment
are low, has the greatest chance of having them fully
satisfied; and a highly endowed being will always
feel that any happiness which he can look for, as the
world is constituted, is imperfect. But he can learn to
bear its imperfections, if they are at all bearable; and
they will not make him envy the being who is indeed
unconscious of the imperfections, but only because
he feels not at all the good which those imperfections
qualify. It is better to be a human being dissatisfied
than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied
than a fool satisfied. And if the fool, or the pig, are
of a different opinion, it is because they only know
their own side of the question. The other party to the
comparison knows both sides.
It may be objected, that many who are capable
of the higher pleasures, occasionally, under the in-
fluence of temptation, postpone them to the lower.
But this is quite compatible with a full appreciation
of the intrinsic superiority of the higher. Men often,
from infirmity of character, make their election for
the nearer good, though they know it to be the less
valuable; and this no less when the choice is between
two bodily pleasures, than when it is between bodily
and mental. They pursue sensual indulgences to the
injury of health, though perfectly aware that health is
the greater good.
It may be further objected, that many who begin
with youthful enthusiasm for everything noble, as
they advance in years sink into indolence and self-
ishness. But I do not believe that those who undergo
this very common change, voluntarily choose the
lower description of pleasures in preference to the
higher. I believe that before they devote themselves
exclusively to the one, they have already become in-
capable of the other. Capacity for the nobler feelings
is in most natures a very tender plant, easily killed,
not only by hostile influences, but by mere want of
sustenance; and in the majority of young persons it
M ill   •  Utilitarianism      177
speedily dies away if the occupations to which their
position in life has devoted them, and the society into
which it has thrown them, are not favourable to keep-
ing that higher capacity in exercise. Men lose their
high aspirations as they lose their intellectual tastes,
because they have not time or opportunity for in-
dulging them; and they addict themselves to inferior
pleasures, not because they deliberately prefer them,
but because they are either the only ones to which
they have access, or the only ones which they are
any longer capable of enjoying. It may be questioned
whether any one who has remained equally suscep-
tible to both classes of pleasures, ever knowingly and
calmly preferred the lower; though many, in all ages,
have broken down in an ineffectual attempt to com-
bine both.
From this verdict of the only competent judges,
I apprehend there can be no appeal. On a question
which is the best worth having of two pleasures, or
which of two modes of existence is the most grate-
ful to the feelings, apart from its moral attributes and
from its consequences, the judgment of those who
are qualified by knowledge of both, or, if they differ,
that of the majority among them, must be admitted as
final. And there needs be the less hesitation to accept
this judgment respecting the quality of pleasures,
since there is no other tribunal to be referred to even
on the question of quantity. What means are there of
determining which is the acutest of two pains, or the
intensest of two pleasurable sensations, except the
general suffrage of those who are familiar with both?
Neither pains nor pleasures are homogeneous, and
pain is always heterogeneous with pleasure. What is
there to decide whether a particular pleasure is worth
purchasing at the cost of a particular pain, except the
feelings and judgment of the experienced? When,
therefore, those feelings and judgment declare the
pleasures derived from the higher faculties to be
preferable in kind, apart from the question of inten-
sity, to those of which the animal nature, disjoined
from the higher faculties, is suspectible, they are en-
titled on this subject to the same regard.
I have dwelt on this point, as being a necessary
part of a perfectly just conception of Utility or Hap-
piness, considered as the directive rule of human
conduct. But it is by no means an indispensable
178    PART V  •  READINGS
condition to the acceptance of the utilitarian stan-
dard; for that standard is not the agent’s own great-
est happiness, but the greatest amount of happiness
altogether; and if it may possibly be doubted whether
a noble character is always the happier for its noble-
ness, there can be no doubt that it makes other people
happier, and that the world in general is immensely
a gainer by it. Utilitarianism, therefore, could only
attain its end by the general cultivation of nobleness
of character, even if each individual were only ben-
efited by the nobleness of others, and his own, so far
as happiness is concerned, were a sheer deduction
from the benefit. But the bare enunciation of such an
absurdity as this last, renders refutation superfluous.
According to the Greatest Happiness Principle, as
above explained, the ultimate end, with reference to
and for the sake of which all other things are desir-
able (whether we are considering our own good or
that of other people), is an existence exempt as far
as possible from pain, and as rich as possible in en-
joyments, both in point of quantity and quality; the
test of quality, and the rule for measuring it against
quantity, being the preference felt by those who in
their opportunities of experience, to which must be
added their habits of self-consciousness and self-
observation, are best furnished with the means of
comparison. This, being, according to the utilitarian
opinion, the end of human action, is necessarily also
the standard of morality; which may accordingly be
defined, the rules and precepts for human conduct,
by the observance of which an existence such as has
been described might be, to the greatest extent pos-
sible, secured to all mankind; and not to them only,
but, so far as the nature of things admits, to the whole
sentient creation. . . .
Unquestionably it is possible to do without happi-
ness; it is done involuntarily by nineteen-twentieths
of mankind, even in those parts of our present world
which are least deep in barbarism; and it often has
to be done voluntarily by the hero or the martyr, for
the sake of something which he prizes more than
his individual happiness. But this something, what
is it, unless the happiness of others or some of the
requisites of happiness? It is noble to be capable of
resigning entirely one’s own portion of happiness, or
chances of it: but, after all, this self-sacrifice must be
for some end; it is not its own end; and if we are told
that its end is not happiness, but virtue, which is better
than happiness, I ask, would the sacrifice be made if
the hero or martyr did not believe that it would earn
for others immunity from similar sacrifices? Would
it be made if he thought that his renunciation of hap-
piness for himself would produce no fruit for any of
his fellow creatures, but to make their lot like his,
and place them also in the condition of persons who
have renounced happiness? All honour to those who
can abnegate for themselves the personal enjoyment
of life, when by such renunciation they contribute
worthily to increase the amount of happiness in the
world; but he who does it, or professes to do it, for
any other purpose, is no more deserving of admira-
tion than the ascetic mounted on his pillar. He may
be an inspiriting proof of what men can do, but assur-
edly not an example of what they should.
Though it is only in a very imperfect state of the
world’s arrangements that any one can best serve
the happiness of others by the absolute sacrifice of
his own, yet so long as the world is in that imperfect
state, I fully acknowledge that the readiness to make
such a sacrifice is the highest virtue which can be
found in man. . . .
The utilitarian morality does recognise in human
beings the power of sacrificing their own greatest
good for the good of others. It only refuses to admit
that the sacrifice is itself a good. A sacrifice which
does not increase, or tend to increase, the sum total
of happiness, it considers as wasted. The only self-
renunciation which it applauds, is devotion to the
happiness, or to some of the means of happiness, of
others; either of mankind collectively, or of individu-
als within the limits imposed by the collective inter-
ests of mankind.
I must again repeat, what the assailants of utilitar-
ianism seldom have the justice to acknowledge, that
the happiness which forms the utilitarian standard of
what is right in conduct, is not the agent’s own hap-
piness, but that of all concerned. As between his own
happiness and that of others, utilitarianism requires
him to be as strictly impartial as a disinterested and
benevolent spectator. In the golden rule of Jesus of
Nazareth, we read the complete spirit of the ethics of
utility. To do as you would be done by, and to love

your neighbour as yourself, constitute the ideal per-
fection of utilitarian morality. . . .
The objectors to utilitarianism cannot always be
charged with representing it in a discreditable light.
On the contrary, those among them who entertain
anything like a just idea of its disinterested charac-
ter, sometimes find fault with its standard as being
too high for humanity. They say it is exacting too
much to require that people shall always act from
the inducement of promoting the general interests of
society. But this is to mistake the very meaning of a
standard of morals, and confound the rule of action
with the motive of it. It is the business of ethics to
tell us what are our duties, or by what test we may
know them; but no system of ethics requires that the
sole motive of all we do shall be a feeling of duty;
on the contrary, ninety-nine hundredths of all our
actions are done from other motives, and rightly so
done, if the rule of duty does not condemn them. It
is the more unjust to utilitarianism that this particular
misapprehension should be made a ground of objec-
tion to it, inasmuch as utilitarian moralists have gone
beyond almost all others in affirming that the motive
has nothing to do with the morality of the action,
though much with the worth of the agent. He who
saves a fellow creature from drowning does what
is morally right, whether his motive be duty, or the
hope of being paid for his trouble; he who betrays the
friend that trusts him, is guilty of a crime, even if his
object be to serve another friend to whom he is under
greater obligations.
But to speak only of actions done from the motive
of duty, and in direct obedience to principle: it is a
misapprehension of the utilitarian mode of thought,
to conceive it as implying that people should fix their
minds upon so wide a generality as the world, or
society at large. The great majority of good actions
are intended not for the benefit of the world, but for
that of individuals, of which the good of the world
is made up; and the thoughts of the most virtuous
man need not on these occasions travel beyond the
particular persons concerned, except so far as is nec-
essary to assure himself that in benefiting them he
is not violating the rights, that is, the legitimate and
authorised expectations, of any one else. The multi-
plication of happiness is, according to the utilitarian
M ill   •  Utilitarianism      179
ethics, the object of virtue: the occasions on which
any person (except one in a thousand) has it in his
power to do this on an extended scale, in other words
to be a public benefactor, are but exceptional; and
on these occasions alone is he called on to consider
public utility; in every other case, private utility, the
interest or happiness of some few persons, is all he
has to attend to. Those alone the influence of whose
actions extends to society in general, need concern
themselves habitually about large an object. In the
case of abstinences indeed—of things which people
forbear to do from moral considerations, though
the consequences in the particular case might be
­beneficial—it would be unworthy of an intelligent
agent not to be consciously aware that the action is of
a class which, if practised generally, would be gener-
ally injurious, and that this is the ground of the ob-
ligation to abstain from it. The amount of regard for
the public interest implied in this recognition, is no
greater than is demanded by every system of morals,
for they all enjoin to abstain from whatever is mani-
festly pernicious to society. . . .
It may not be superfluous to notice a few more of
the common misapprehensions of utilitarian ethics,
even those which are so obvious and gross that it
might appear impossible for any person of candour
and intelligence to fall into them; since persons, even
of considerable mental endowments, often give them-
selves so little trouble to understand the bearings of
any opinion against which they entertain a prejudice,
and men are in general so little conscious of this
voluntary ignorance as a defect, that the vulgarest
misunderstandings of ethical doctrines are continu-
ally met with in the deliberate writings of persons of
the greatest pretensions both to high principle and to
philosophy. We not uncommonly hear the doctrine
of utility inveighed against as a godless doctrine. If
it be necessary to say anything at all against so mere
an assumption, we may say that the question depends
upon what idea we have formed of the moral charac-
ter of the Deity. If it be a true belief that God desires,
above all things, the happiness of his creatures, and
that this was his purpose in their creation, utility is
not only not a godless doctrine, but more profoundly
religious than any other. If it be meant that utilitari-
anism does not recognise the revealed will of God as
180    PART V  •  READINGS
the supreme law of morals, I answer, that a utilitar-
ian who believes in the perfect goodness and wisdom
of God, necessarily believes that whatever God has
thought fit to reveal on the subject of morals, must
fulfil the requirements of utility in a supreme degree.
But others besides utilitarians have been of opin-
ion that the Christian revelation was intended, and
is fitted, to inform the hearts and minds of mankind
with a spirit which should enable them to find for
themselves what is right, and incline them to do it
when found, rather than to tell them, except in a very
general way, what it is; and that we need a doctrine
of ethics, carefully followed out, to interpret to us the
will of God. Whether this opinion is correct or not,
it is superfluous here to discuss; since whatever aid
religion, either natural or revealed, can afford to ethi-
cal investigation, is as open to the utilitarian moralist
as to any other. He can use it as the testimony of God
to the usefulness or hurtfulness of any given course
of action, by as good a right as others can use it for
the indication of a transcendental law, having no con-
nection with usefulness or with happiness.
Again, Utility is often summarily stigmatised as
an immoral doctrine by giving it the name of Ex-
pediency, and taking advantage of the popular use
of that term to contrast it with Principle. But the
­Expedient, in the sense in which it is opposed to the
Right, generally means that which is expedient for
the particular interest of the agent himself; as when a
minister sacrifices the interests of his country to keep
himself in place. When it means anything better than
this, it means that which is expedient for some im-
mediate object, some temporary purpose, but which
violates a rule whose observance is expedient in a
much higher degree. The Expedient, in this sense,
instead of being the same thing with the useful, is a
branch of the hurtful. Thus, it would often be expedi-
ent, for the purpose of getting over some momentary
embarrassment, or attaining some object immedi-
ately useful to ourselves or others, to tell a lie. But
inasmuch as the cultivation in ourselves of a sensi-
tive feeling on the subject of veracity, is one of the
most useful, and the enfeeblement of that feeling one
of the most hurtful, things to which our conduct can
be instrumental; and inasmuch as any, even uninten-
tional, deviation from truth, does that much towards
weakening the trustworthiness of human assertion,
which is not only the principal support of all present
social well-being, but the insufficiency of which does
more than any one thing that can be named to keep
back civilisation, virtue, everything on which human
happiness on the largest scale depends; we feel that
the violation, for a present advantage, of a rule of
such transcendant expediency, is not expedient, and
that he who, for the sake of a convenience to himself
or to some other individual, does what depends on
him to deprive mankind of the good, and inflict upon
them the evil, involved in the greater or less reliance
which they can place in each other’s word, acts the
part of one of their worst enemies. Yet that even this
rule, sacred as it is, admits of possible exceptions,
is acknowledged by all moralists; the chief of which is
when the withholding of some fact (as of informa-
tion from a malefactor, or of bad news from a person
dangerously ill) would save an individual (especially
an individual other than oneself) from great and un-
merited evil, and when the withholding can only be
effected by denial. But in order that the exception
may not extend itself beyond the need, and may have
the least possible effect in weakening reliance on
veracity, it ought to be recognised, and, if p­ ossible,
its limits defined; and if the principle of utility is
good for anything, it must be good for weighing
these conflicting utilities against one another, and
marking out the region within which one or the other
preponderates.
Again, defenders of utility often find themselves
called upon to reply to such objections as this—that
there is not time, previous to action, for calculating
and weighing the effects of any line of conduct on
the general happiness. This is exactly as if any one
were to say that it is impossible to guide our con-
duct by Christianity, because there is not time, on
every occasion on which anything has to be done,
to read through the Old and New Testaments. The
answer to the objection is, that there has been ample
time, namely, the whole past duration of the human
species. During all that time, mankind have been
learning by experience the tendencies of actions;
on which experience all the prudence, as well as all
the morality of life, are dependent. People talk as if
the commencement of this course of experience had