Four Phases of Morals: Socrates, Aristotle, Christianity, Utilitarianism
Socrates · en
We have now finished our notice of those who are entitled to be called
the founders of the Utilitarian school; those who follow, as the mere
inheritors of principles already largely discussed, need not detain us
long. Of these by far the most distinguished unquestionably is
Bentham; so distinguished indeed, as in popular estimate to be
accounted, the founder of the school. But there is need of a
distinction here. Those men found a school in the proper sense who
teach the principles which it acknowledges; but in another sense he
founds it who applies those principles to practice. In the first
sense, the founders of the ethical doctrine which we are considering
were Locke, Hartley, and Hume; in the other sense, Bentham. His glory
lies not so much in expounding as in applying principles; he is a
lawyer and a politician rather than a philosopher. Not however that he
did not give himself the airs of a philosopher; this he did with
observation, and was accepted by his disciples accordingly. Therein
lay the mistake. It is not every man, not even every great man, who
knows how to recognise the limits which nature has laid down to the
exercise of his faculty. Napoleon the Great, in the pride of imperial
command, overlooked the moral forces that {321} lay slumbering in the
heart of the people, and was punished by a three days’ cannonade at
Leipzig, the prelude to his final chastisement at Waterloo. Jeremy
Bentham, because he could tabulate Acts of Parliament with the
astuteness of a barrister, the purity of a philanthropist, and the
comprehensiveness of a statesman, conceited himself throned on a moral
eminence from which he might look down with contempt on Plato and
Socrates, and all the great moral teachers of the past. In the third
chapter of the first volume of _Deontology_, or _Doctrine of Duty_, we
read, “While Xenophon was writing history, and Euclid giving
instruction in geometry, Socrates and Plato were talking nonsense
under pretence of teaching wisdom. This morality of theirs consisted
in words,--this wisdom of theirs was the denial of matters known to
every man’s experience, and the assertion of other matters opposed
to every man’s experience. And exactly in the proportion in which
their notions on this subject differed from those of the mass of
mankind, exactly in that proportion were they below the level of
mankind.” Such an exhibition of ignorance, insolence, and
impertinence as this in a man of undoubted genius, were truly
inexplicable, did we not bear in mind that genius even of the very
highest kind is often accompanied by a very decided one-sidedness; and
more than that, there were in the circumstances of Bentham’s life
not a few things that tended to raise to a maximum the dogmatism with
which he was naturally endowed. He is by no means a solitary example
of a great man, the sublime of whose excellence has been turned into
the ridiculous for lack of a little Christian humility. {322} “Who