O. P. Q. in the Morning Chronicle is a clever fellow. He is for the
greatest possible happiness for the greatest possible number, and for the
longest possible time! So am I; so are you, and every one of us, I will
venture to say, round the tea-table. First, however, what does O. P. Q.
mean by the word _happiness_? and, secondly, how does he propose to make
other persons agree in _his_ definition of the term? Don't you see the
ridiculous absurdity of setting up _that_ as a principle or motive of
action, which is, in fact, a necessary and essential instinct of our very
nature--an inborn and inextinguishable desire? How can creatures
susceptible of pleasure and pain do otherwise than desire happiness? But,
_what_ happiness? That is the question. The American savage, in scalping
his fallen enemy, pursues _his_ happiness naturally and adequately. A
Chickasaw, or Pawnee Bentham, or O. P. Q., would necessarily hope for the
most frequent opportunities possible of scalping the greatest possible
number of savages, for the longest possible time. There is no escaping this
absurdity, unless you come back to a standard of reason and duty,
imperative upon our merely pleasurable sensations. Oh! but, says O. P. Q.,
I am for the happiness of _others!_ Of others! Are you, indeed? Well, I
happen to be one of those _others_, and, so far as I can judge from what
you show me of your habits and views, I would rather be excused from your
banquet of happiness. _Your_ mode of happiness would make _me_ miserable.
To go about doing as much _good_ as possible to as many men as possible,
is, indeed, an excellent object for a man to propose to himself; but then,
in order that you may not sacrifice the real good and happiness of others
to your particular views, which may be quite different from your
neighbour's, you must do _that_ good to others which the reason, common to
all, pronounces to be good for all. In this sense your fine maxim is so
very true as to be a mere truism.
* * * * *
So you object, with old Hobbes, that I do good actions _for_ the pleasure
of a good conscience; and so, after all, I am only a refined sensualist!
Heaven bless you, and mend your logic! Don't you see that if conscience,
which is in its nature a consequence, were thus anticipated and made an
antecedent--a party instead of a judge--it would dishonour your draft upon
it--it would not pay on demand? Don't you see that, in truth, the very fact
of acting with this motive properly and logically destroys all claim upon
conscience to give you any pleasure at all?
August 22. 1831.