good with their corresponding ethical or effective pleasures. Instead of starting with the vague and undefined assumption of a maximum sum of pleasure as the end, if we take the end as it really exists, we find that this end involves the greatest happiness of the greatest number not as a primary definition, but as a necessary though secondary element.

29. Here seems to be the proper place to advert to a question which was left over from the preceding Book,1 but has now practically answered itself the question how far morality depends on the consequences of action. The consequences of an action make the action itself different; and we have seen that the question really turns on what consequences they are which are contemplated. It is now plain that they are consequences for character and conduct. If we take the common conception of consequences as the pleasurable and painful effects of conduct, these are not simply to be regarded in their intensity, but in their quality as well. Whether an act is right or wrong will depend on what sort of pleasures and pains it produces. Consequently, we are introducing into the statement of consequences the conditions of character (or, what is the same thing, of conduct) out of which these feelings are to arise. This is obviously the case if we consider only the ethical pleasures themselves. But since the ethical pleasures are in intimate connection with and depend upon all the pleasures and pains that result from conduct, the incidental feelings themselves are also subservient to the formation of good character.

30. (d.) Pleasure and the Object of Action.-Pleasure we found to be an integral part of the standard of morality: it was not itself an independent standard, and could serve only secondarily as a criterion for distinguishing one action from another: but it formed part of the standard just because that standard is one of conduct.

1 See Bk. I., ch. ii., p. 42.

Is

pleasure, then, also the object of conduct? We should expect the answer to be, that while pleasure is not the ground of our desiring the object, pleasure is part of the object, in so far as the object is the object of desire or will. If this is so, then the pleasure-formula of the end will describe the object of morality from the pleasure point of view the end thus expressed can itself on occasion be the object, and it will include all the constituent elements which are the several objects of individual acts.

It is admitted that the idea before the mind in desire is pleasant. This pleasure, I shall maintain, is the object of desire, in the same sense that the idea itself is the object. If we choose to call by the name of object the result which is to be attained, the pleasure of this result is as much the object as the result itself. Why both the idea before the mind and its realisation are called object has been before explained,-because they have a common character. But the question of what the object of desire is turns upon the decision of what it is which is before the mind in desire. The difficulty of agreeing that the pleasure of the idea is part of the object arises from two sources, the one a confusion of the object of desire with the character or criterion of the object, the other a misunderstanding of how the ideal object is related to the result. Looking in the first place to the latter misapprehension, it is supposed that the idea before the mind is the idea of the result, a constructive imagination of what state of mind I shall be in when I have attained my end, the picture of some future state. Hence the belief that desire is for prospective pleasure. This belief is erroneous: the idea is not necessarily the idea of the result: for the most part it is a representation of which the elements are derived from the past: it is an idea of the result only in the sense that the result is this idea as it is realised. the other hand, because it is false that the prospective pleasure must necessarily be part of the idea, the opposite conclusion is drawn, that desire is not for pleasure at all.

On

Now it is true that in order to distinguish one object from another we need to know what kind of an object it is if we are to choose between eating and drinking, it is the element of food or drink which decides which is the more desirable. But to conclude from this that desire is not for pleasure is to confuse the actual idea before the mind in desire with its quality.

I

31. An illustration will help to guide us in determining the real position of pleasure. Supposing a party of five persons has been formed, and a sixth is wanted. propose out of a number of persons a sixth, A, whom I know to be a person possessing certain qualities, say, to be a genial man or a good talker. A is chosen provided my companions approve, and their approval means that he is suitable to their tastes. Now what determines us to choose A, the reason why we choose him, is not his suitability, but his quality of geniality: but what we have before our minds is a genial person who is suitable. We could not choose him, unless we attached to him the idea of suitability but at the same time that idea is only a function of his qualities as a man. Further, in thinking of what sort of a man A is, we might very often think of the future pleasure he would afford us, and might imagine to ourselves what a merry party we should be in his company. But this is not necessary to the choice. What we apprehend in A is his geniality and consequent suitability, and we read into this mainly the knowledge derived from the past: we may, or we may not, put into our apprehension of him the idea of future pleasure to be expected from his society. This example will be useful in clearing up the difficulties of the subject.

32. There are three questions which are involved. The first may be easily dismissed. Do we make pleasure the object in the sense that we desire an object (say an act of kindness) on the ground of its pleasure, representing to ourselves the pleasure as the reason for doing the act? In other words, is pleasure not merely that which

causes the desire, but is it put forward as the reason of the desire? The answer is, that we need not think about our reasons at all. In general we do not desire the pleasure on the ground of its being pleasure, but neither do we desire the kindness on the ground of its being kindness. We simply apprehend the kindness of the proposed act; and we need only apprehend the pleasure in the same way. It is not necessary again to labour the point that reflective conduct is exceptional.

ness.

The second question is more important. Is it the pleasure or the kindness which is the cause of the desire (though not apprehended as the cause)? We have here the same question as we discussed with respect to goodThe answer is, that it is the kindness which determines the desire. To say that the pleasure is the cause would be in the first place to separate the pleasure from the feeling it accompanies. The pleasure is still the pleasure of doing a kindness, and is defined by its character. In the second place, to regard pleasure as the cause is to confuse a cause with a sign. The pleasure in the object is a function of the quality of the object (the kindness). It is not the effect of the kindness, but is simply the sign of the suitability of the object to the feelings of the agent, as the approval of our imagined guest was the sign that his qualities fell in with the wishes of his companions.

In

33. What, then, is the pleasure which is the object of desire ? This is the third question. That it is not the prospective pleasure is, I think, clear as a psychological fact. In nearly all higher desires we do indeed think of prospective pleasures, these enter into the content or character of the idea. But this is not necessary. the first place, we may think of such pleasures without having any desire, as a mere picture of the imagination. Conversely, many of the simpler forms of desire contain no such anticipations. Once more, when we do think of the future, what occupies our mind is very often the

unpleasant incidents of the action, and yet we desire. If a martyr at the stake thought of his prospective feelings at all, they would probably be mainly the painful ones of physical torture. Prospective pleasure, then, is an element only in certain objects of desire, and not in all.

The pleasure which is part of the object of desire is that which is actually present in our minds, in contrast to the pain of want which stimulates to the action. It is sometimes called the motive pleasure, to distinguish it from the pleasure resulting from performance. What I am maintaining is, that this pleasure belongs to the ideal object, and is part of that object: it is the pleasure-tone of the represented feeling which we call the ideal object. It is ideal in the same sense as the idea to which it belongs, because it is contrasted with the feelings which prompt to the action. True, it is felt as a fact, but the idea before the mind is equally a fact. But the pleasure is the pleasure of the idea. It is ideal in the same way as an object present in perception may be idealised by entering into connection with ideas. I wish to eat a fruit which is before me, or to retain a feeling which is now in my consciousness; the fruit and the feeling are themselves real facts, but in entering into the object of desire, the eating of the fruit, the retention of the desire, they become idealised. They are not present now in the way they are desired to be. The pleasantness of the idea before the mind is in like manner the pleasure of the object, and is part of the object.

If, then, we call the pleasure which is always part of the object of desire or will the prospective pleasure (and I suspect that the two things are simply not distinguished in the current theories of desire), we are making the mistake of confounding the agent's mind with that of his spectator. To the spectator the pleasure before my mind is the foretaste of the pleasure I am to enjoy in the future but into my own mind the picture of the future need not enter at all.