The alliance between Evolutionism and Hedonism may be arrived at from either of the two points of view which are being brought into connection: may be either an attempt to bring the hedonistic end into the definite region of law revealed by the evolution of life; or may result from the endeavour to give clearness and persuasiveness to an ethical end which evolution itself seems to point to.

The former point of view is represented in Mr Spencer's rejection of empirical utilitarianism, and substitution for it of a practical end which is not enunciated in terms of pleasure. Happiness is still regarded by him as the supreme end; but the tendency to it is not to be adopted as the end in practical morality. There are certain conditions to social equilibrium which "must be fulfilled before complete life—that is, greatest happiness—can be obtained in any society."[154] Thus the form of "rational utilitarianism" which he endeavours to establish "does not take welfare for its immediate object of pursuit," but "conformity to certain principles which, in the nature of things, causally determine welfare."[155] Having deduced "from the laws of life and the conditions of existence what kinds of action necessarily tend to produce happiness, and what kinds to produce unhappiness," we are to recognise these deductions "as laws of conduct ... irrespective of a direct estimation of happiness or misery."[156] The assumption is thus distinctly made that the tendency of life is to happiness, and that the laws of its evolution yield practical principles by following out which the greatest happiness may be obtained, without attempting the impossible task of estimating directly the felicific and infelicific results of conduct.

Starting with the evolutionist point of view, but with an opposite estimate of the relative value for practice of the ends supplied by evolutionism and by hedonism, a like identification of them might seem advisable. The "increase of life" to which evolution tends may be regarded as not merely an account of the actual process of existence, but as a principle of action for a conscious being. In this way some such ethical imperative as "Be a self-conscious agent in the evolution of the universe"[157] may be formulated. Yet as the "evolution of the universe" is a somewhat large conception, and its laws are not clear to every one, it may seem necessary that the end should be explained by translation into better-known terms. And this may be done if the conduct which promotes life most is, at the same time, the conduct which increases pleasure most. In this way, although the ultimate end is life, or, in vaster phrase, "the evolution of the universe," the practical end is pleasure. The moral value of conduct will depend on its tendency to increase the balance of pleasure over pain. The ethics of evolution will be reduced to hedonism.

This way of determining the evolutionist end is put forward as a logical possibility rather than as representing the views of any party. The contribution which the theory of evolution has to offer towards the determination of the ethical end, has not yet received that definite expression which would justify our passing by any logical interpretation of it, on the ground of its not being actually adopted by ethical writers. Yet it would seem that the above point of view is not altogether foreign to evolutionist morality. The preservation or development of the individual—or of the race—which is put forward as an expression both for the actual course of evolution and the subjective impulse corresponding to it, is often assumed to agree at each step with the desire for pleasure, and, when the stage of reflective consciousness is reached, to be identical with the pursuit of a maximum of pleasure.[158] In this way it is assumed that the preservation and development of life tend always to pleasure, and that the end or tendency of evolution is being fulfilled when the greatest pleasure is wisely sought. It is therefore necessary to inquire how far the correspondence between life and pleasure, or between development and pleasure, actually holds, that we may see whether it is possible for the one to take the place of the other in determining the end for conduct.

Now it is argued, from the point of view of evolution, that, taking for granted that pleasure motives action, the organisms in which pleasurable acts coincided with life-preserving or health-promoting acts must have survived in the struggle for existence at the expense of those organisms whose pleasurable activity tended to their destruction or to the hindrance of their efficiency.[159] The assumption in this argument, in addition to the constant postulate of natural selection, is simply that pleasure is a chief motive of action; the conclusion to which it leads is, that there is a broad correspondence between life-preserving and pleasurable acts—that the preservation and development of life are pleasurable. It is necessary to examine with care the validity of this important argument with reference to the attacks that may be made on it from the pessimist point of view; and, if its doctrine of the correspondence of life and pleasure is not entirely erroneous, to inquire further whether this correspondence can be made to establish an end for conduct, in accordance with the theory of evolution, by measuring life in terms of pleasure.

What then is to be said of the supposed "conflict between EudÆmonism [Hedonism] and Evolutionism" which v. Hartmann[160] opposes to the optimist doctrine that evolution has tended to make life and pleasure coincide?

The problem of Pessimism resolves itself into two questions which admit of being kept distinct: (a) The first is, Does life on the whole give, or can it give, a balance of pleasure? This is the fundamental question of the value of life as put by those, whether optimists or pessimists, who assume that "value" means "pleasure-value." If it be answered in the negative, the hedonistic ideal must be the reduction of the adverse balance to the zero-point of feeling striven after by Eastern ascetics, but, to all appearance, obtained only and most easily by death.[161] (b) The second question is, Does the evolution of life lead to an increase of pleasure and diminution of pain? This is the question brought into prominence in recent discussions, and of most importance for the present inquiry; and upon an affirmative answer to it Evolutionist Hedonism is plainly dependent. To both questions v. Hartmann gives an answer in the negative.

(a) If the pessimist view of life is correct, Mr Spencer holds,[162] then "the ending of an undesirable existence being the thing to be wished, that which causes the ending of it must be applauded." And this is so far true, though not necessarily true in the way Mr Spencer thinks. For this undesirable existence cannot, perhaps, be brought to a final conclusion merely by ending the individual life: this would only leave room for other individuals to fill the vacant places. Annihilation is the end not directly for the individual, but for the race. Not life itself, according to Schopenhauer, but the will to live, is to be killed in the individual man. Even this code of morals, Hartmann thinks, is a remnant of the false, pre-evolutionist individualism, and would hinder the course of the universe, by leaving the game to be played out by the remaining individuals whose wills were not strong enough to curb or kill themselves. It is a mistake to think that the will to live which pulses through all existence can be annihilated by the phenomenal individual. The individual's duty is not to seek for himself the painlessness of annihilation or passionless NirwÂna, but to join in the ceaseless painful striving of nature, and, by contributing to the development of life, to hasten its arrival once more at the goal of unconsciousness. The self-destruction, not of the individual will, but of the cosmic or universal will, is the final end of action.

Apart from the metaphysical view of things with which this estimate of the value of life is connected, and which may be regarded perhaps as its consequent rather than its cause,[163] the pessimist doctrine has a double foundation, in psychology and in the facts of life.

Psychologically, it seems to be best supported by Schopenhauer's doctrine of will or desire as an incessant painful striving, pleasure being merely the negative of this pain, and always coming short of completely satisfying it. But this position involves a double error in psychological analysis, and is relinquished even by Hartmann, though he still regards pleasure as in all cases satisfaction of desire. Desire is itself merely a secondary or derived fact in human nature, consequent on the inhibition of volitional energy.[164] The pleasures we call passive are independent of it; and those which attend upon activity, but are not themselves part of the end of action, are also enjoyed without being striven after in order to satisfy a want. Further, it is a mistake to look upon the pleasure of attainment as a mere negation of the pain of desire. The painful element in desire comes from the inhibition of the attempted realisation of an ideal object. In unsatisfied desires, it is true, the pain is in proportion to the strength of the restrained longing. But, if the inhibition is overcome, the pain is not equal to the strength of the desire, but only to the amount of opposition that has to be conquered in satisfying it. Hence, not only are there other pleasures than those of satisfied desire, but even the pleasure got from such satisfaction is something more than a mere recompense for the pain accompanying the desire.

The support got by pessimism from the facts of human life is more difficult to estimate at its true value. It is obvious that pleasure and pain are intermingled in almost every experience; and the proportion in which they are mixed varies greatly in different circumstances and according to the susceptibilities of different persons. If we ask a number of people whether life is on the whole pleasant to them, not only do we receive a variety of answers which it is hard to sum up and average, but the answers we get are apt to reflect the feeling of the moment rather than to represent an impartial estimate of the pleasure and pain of a lifetime. Thus experience seems unable to give us a trustworthy answer as to the average pleasure-value of life; but, if its verdict is correct, that to some life is pleasant, though to many painful, this shows that a surplus of pain does not follow from the nature of life, and thus destroys the position of thoroughgoing pessimism, which looks upon this as the worst of all possible worlds.

(b) It may still be maintained, however—and this is the position which chiefly concerns us here—that the course of evolution does not tend to increase the pleasure in life at the expense of the pain in it, and that, therefore, even although pleasure and evolution may both of them be possible ends of conduct, they are ends which point in different directions and lead to different courses of action.

It is necessary for the evolutionist who holds that the development of life does not tend to increased pleasure, to meet the argument already adduced[165] to show their correspondence. Nor does that argument seem to be altogether beyond criticism. To compare progress or development with pleasure, we ought to know exactly what is meant by both terms. Yet it is impossible to have a clear notion of progress without an idea of the end to which it tends, and this has not yet been obtained. It is largely on account of the difficulty of obtaining such an idea that some evolutionists seem to have been driven to measure progress in terms of pleasure, just as, owing to the difficulty of estimating and summing up pleasures, some hedonists have been induced to measure them by the progress of evolution. What we have now to see is whether the correspondence assumed between progress and pleasure actually exists. And, to avoid the tautology of saying that progress is increase of life, we must judge of it simply by empirical observation of the nature of human activity and of the course of human affairs.

Now the attempted identification of pleasurable and life-promoting activities rests on an incomplete account of the motives and results of action. For, in the first place, even admitting that pleasure and avoidance of pain are the only motives to action, the influence of natural selection has not prevented actions hurtful to life being sometimes accompanied by pleasant sensations. Its tendency to do so has been much more effective in the lower orders of animal life than in the higher. The latter, especially man, possess the power of representing ideal states in the imagination, and are thus able to avoid actions hurtful to life, although these actions are pleasant at the time. For the hurtful consequences of the action may be so vividly represented in idea as to outweigh the influence of the present pleasure which could be got from its enjoyment.[166]

And further, the analysis of volition involved in the argument seems to be insufficient. For there are other springs of action to be taken account of than pleasure and its opposite. Habit, imitation, and interests of a more comprehensive kind than desire of pleasant feeling, are all motives to action. It is true that pleasure is always felt in the successful performance of an action, and it is also true that the inhibition of will is always painful; but it is none the less incorrect to look either upon the pleasure that follows from the action, or the pain that would be the result of its inhibition as, in ordinary cases, the motive. It is motives of a different kind than pleasure, such as imitation[167] and the influence of ideal ends, which most often lead to progress. And the progress that is due to such motives cannot be measured by its effect in increasing pleasure, nor assumed to make pleasure and life correspond. Other activities less advantageous in nature in all respects but this, might, so far as the reasoning goes, lead to equal or to more pleasurable consequences. At the best, therefore, the above argument only proves a general tendency towards the coincidence of pleasurable actions with actions which promote life; it does not show that the increase of life can be accurately measured by pleasure. The process of natural selection might kill off all organisms whose desires led them normally to action hurtful to life. But sufficient evidence has not been brought forward to show that it is fitted to produce an exact proportion between progress and pleasure.

Hartmann, however, attempts to strike a more fundamental blow than this at the presupposition involved in the argument for evolutionist hedonism. For he contends that, throughout all life, the great pulse of progress is neither, "(aa) the hypothesis of the unconscious;" on the one hand, desire for pleasure, nor, on the other, the more complex and varied motives just referred to, but that it is the incessant striving towards fulness of life by a universal unconscious will, which is manifested in all things, and which is for ever pressing onwards towards conscious realisation, regardless of the increase of pain which the course of evolution implies. But this hypothesis of unconscious will is not a justifiable metaphysical principle got at by the analysis of experience, and necessary for its explanation, though lying beyond it. It is a "metempirical," or rather mythical, cause interpolated into the processes of experience. Hence the antagonism in which it stands to psychological fact: its disregard of the effect of pleasure as a powerful motive in volition; and its neglect of the obvious truth that function so reacts upon organ that all actions have simply by continuance a tendency to be performed with greater ease, and therefore to yield in their performance increase of pleasure. The smoothness and precision with which it works may, indeed, lead to a function being performed unconsciously, and thus without either pain or pleasure. But the normal exercise of conscious activity is uniformly pleasurable.[168]

While giving up Schopenhauer's doctrine of the merely negative character of pleasure, Hartmann yet contends that "eternal limits" "(bb) the nature of volition;" are set by the very nature of volition, which make it impossible to have a world with more pleasure in it than pain. But his arguments[169] come very far short of proving his case. For, in the first place, to say that the stimulation and wearying of the nerves imply the necessity of a cessation of pleasure as well as of pain, is to confuse complete states of consciousness with the subjective feeling which accompanies each state. It is not true that one ever becomes weary of pleasure: to talk as if there were one class of nerves for pleasure, and another for pain, is absurd. But every mental state, however pleasurable to start with, tends to become monotonous, wearisome, or painful. Pleasure thus requires a change from one mental state to another: to say that it requires a change from pleasure to something else is a contradiction in terms. It is the objects or activity that require to be varied, not the feeling of pleasure. Again, in the second place, it is true that pleasure is to be regarded as indirect in so far as it is entirely due to the cessation of a pain, and not to instantaneous satisfaction of will. But it does not do to regard the pleasure as altogether indirect when, although the cessation of a pain is necessary for its production, it is itself something more than this cessation. The inhibition of will often prevents the realisation of an object which is very much more than a recompense in pleasurable quality for the pain of the restraint; and although the pleasure only arises from the removal of this painful state of inhibition, there is a direct and positive gain over and above the gratification of having pain removed. In the third place, Hartmann argues that the satisfaction of will is often unconscious, whereas pain is eo ipso conscious. But, even admitting the reality of unconscious will or desire, which this argument involves, it does not follow that pleasure and pain are differently affected in regard to it. If pain is eo ipso conscious, so also is pleasure; if the satisfaction of unconscious desire gives no pleasure, neither does the absence of such satisfaction give pain.[170] It is true, as Hartmann adds in the fourth place, that desire is often long and the joy of satisfaction fleeting; but this refers not so much to mental pleasures as to those connected with physical appetite. Of them it is true that

But in the higher pleasures with more permanent objects of pursuit, although the desire may be long-continued, the pleasure does not disappear in the moment of gratification.

It would seem, therefore, that the pessimist psychology, in treating pleasure in a different way from pain, mistakes the true nature of both as simply "polar extremes"[171] of feeling, and prevents the argument being faced which has been brought forward to show the increasing correspondence of pleasure and life.

The failure of the psychological argument makes the whole burden of the proof of pessimism rest upon the argument from historical facts. And the attempt has been definitely made to show, from observation of the course of human affairs, that the progress of the world tends to misery. It is necessary, therefore, to ask whether it can be established that the facts included under the vague term "human progress" have a normal tendency either to increase pleasure or to act in the opposite way. Now progress is a characteristic both of the individual and of society; but pleasure only belongs to the former, so that an answer to the question whether individual progress tends to increase the surplus of pleasure over pain, still leaves unsettled the question as to the effect of social progress.

It seems evident that both the physical and mental development of the individual imply greater adaptability to, and correspondence with, the external world, and that, on account of this development, there is less unpleasant friction between outer and inner relations, and means are at hand for obtaining objects of desire with less exertion than formerly. But, at the same time, the increase of knowledge and of skill always implies not merely the means of satisfying old wants, but the creation of new ones: we see more of the evil in the world than our forefathers did, and there are more avenues by which it can approach us, if we have also more effective means for avoiding what we dislike. And, although knowledge brings with it not only the pleasure of gratified curiosity, but that recognition of a universal order which frees the mind from the evils bred by a belief in the fickleness of nature, yet this all-pervading sense of law has so regulated our beliefs and methods of research that science itself may seem to have lost the peculiar freshness of interest that belonged to its earlier stages; while the feelings called forth by a vision of the divine presence in the world, find but a poor substitute in the sublime region of "cosmic emotion." Further, the widening of the sympathetic feelings and their consequent activities, and the refinement of the whole sensitive nature by which it responds more quickly and accurately to emotional stimuli, have made the present generation more susceptible to both pain and pleasure than its predecessors. But Hartmann's argument that the duller nervous system of the savage races (NaturvÖlker) makes them happier than the civilised (CulturvÖlker),[172] leaves out of sight the new sources of pleasure as well as pain that are opened up to a refined sensibility. According to Hartmann, the Æsthetic sensibilities may be a source of painless pleasure: yet even their cultivation cannot be said to be matter of pure gain to their possessors; for the pain of discord is to be set against—in his opinion, it outweighs—the pleasure of harmony. On the whole, then, it would appear that the evolution of the individual leads to greater possibilities both of pleasure and of pain. The refinement of the intellectual and emotional nature opens up wider ranges of both kinds of feeling; and we are driven to look mainly to the improvement of the social environment for the means of increasing pleasure and diminishing pain.

But to estimate the hedonistic value of social progress is a still more difficult task than the preceding. For the march of affairs has often little regard to its effect on the happiness of the greater number of people concerned. Industrially, "industrial," it may be thought that the increase in the amount of wealth produced affords a vastly greater means of comfort and luxury. Yet, it is doubtful whether this increase has always been sufficient to keep pace with the growth of population; and it is certain that every society whose territory is limited, must, when its numbers have increased beyond a certain point, begin to experience the diminishing returns which nature yields for the labour expended upon it. Indeed, the tendency to an excess in the rate of increase of population over that of means of subsistence is one of the chief causes which make it so difficult to assert that civilisation tends to greater happiness. But, even although the average quantity of wealth be greater now than before, it must be remembered that wealth is measured by its amount, whereas happiness depends on the equality with which that amount is distributed.[173] Yet the present industrial rÉgime tends to the accumulation of immense wealth in a few hands, rather than to its proportionate increase throughout the community. The industrial progress which increases the wealth of the rich, has little to recommend it if it leaves the "labouring poor" at a starvation-wage.

if the population can be divided into plutocrats and proletariate? Moreover, the very nature of economic production seems to imply an opposition between social progress and individual wellbeing. For the former, in demanding the greatest possible amount of produce, requires an excessive and increasing specialisation of labour. Each worker must perform that operation only to which he has been specially trained, or which he can do best. And in this way industrialism tends to occupy the greater part of the waking hours of an increasing proportion of human lives in the repetition of a short series of mechanical movements which call out a bare minimum of the faculties of the worker, dwarf his nature, and reduce his life to a mere succession of the same monotonous sensation.[174] In spite, therefore, of immense improvements in the general conditions of wellbeing, it is still difficult to say that the happiness of the average human life has been much increased by the march of industrial progress.

A more hopeful view may, perhaps, be taken of the effect of political progress. The increase of popular government gratifies the desire for power, and, in some cases, even tends to a more efficient management of affairs. Still more important in its effect on happiness is the greater security for life and property which the gradual consolidation of political control has brought about. It would seem, too, that the harsher features of the struggle by which this advance takes place have been modified; and that the war of politics has abated in fury more than the war of trade. On the whole, therefore, the tendency of modern political rule appears to be towards an almost unmixed gain in respect of happiness,—by the security it affords for life and property, by its wide distribution of political power, and by the room it gives for individual freedom. Yet the last of these results—in the laissez-faire system of industrialism to which it has led, and which, in spite of many modifications, is still in the ascendant—has effects of a more doubtful character.

This mere reference to one or two of the leading features of progress would not be sufficient to support a thesis either as to its beneficial or baneful tendency. But evidence enough has been led to show that the effects on pleasure of individual and social development are of a mixed kind,—that culture and civilisation have neither the tendency to misery which Hartmann follows Rousseau in attributing to them,[175] nor, on the other hand, that steady correspondence with increasing pleasure which would be required to establish the position of evolutionist hedonism.

It follows, therefore, that, without adopting a pessimist view, we must still make our choice between evolutionism and hedonism. The course of evolution—so far as experience helps us to understand it—cannot be measured by increase of pleasure. Nothing is said here to show that it is not perfectly consistent to hold that the moral feelings and ideas, the customs to which they have given rise, and the institutions in which they are embodied, have been produced by the ordinary laws of evolution, and yet to maintain that the moral end for reflective beings is the hedonistic or utilitarian end. It may be possible, that is to say, to be an evolutionist in psychology and sociology, at the same time that one is a hedonist in ethics. But it is not allowable to adopt pleasure as the end, and yet speak of it as determined by evolution. Evolution can determine no such end until it be shown that the progress it connotes implies a proportionate increase of pleasure.

Such is the conclusion to which we are led by a consideration of the bearings of evolution upon the increase of pleasure and pain. But this argument requires to be supplemented by the more satisfactory method of an independent analysis of pleasure in relation to the development of human nature; and from this analysis we may hope to discover how far the theory of evolution is consistent with the ethics of hedonism.

The relative and transient nature of pleasure has been urged as an objection against any form of hedonism by many philosophers since the time of Plato. And the argument has of late years been brought forward in a way which shows that the calculus of "pleasures" and "pains" which Bentham's ethics implies is much less certain and easy than its author supposed. This has been made clear both by the subtle analysis carried out by the late Professor Green, and by Professor Sidgwick's examination of the difficulties which beset the "hedonistic calculus." It does not appear, however, to have been made out that the nature of pleasure proves hedonism to be impossible as the end of conduct. But it may, perhaps, appear that the case is altered when we consider the matter in the light of the evolutionist form of hedonism now under examination, and estimate from this point of view the ethical bearings of the psychological analysis of feeling.

The difficulty of defining pleasure or pain is not the same as the difficulty or impossibility of defining any elementary sensation. For the latter is connected in definite ways with other similar sensations, can be compared and associated with them, and by such association go to make up an object or thing. "(a) The purely subjective nature of pleasure;" But pleasure and pain are neither objects nor parts of objects: they cannot be distinguished from or associated with the impressions of the senses so as to constitute an object. They can only be spoken of as an affection of the percipient and active subject, different in kind both from the objects it knows and the acts it performs: each can only be defined as the opposite of the other. Pleasure and pain are not real phenomena with a distinguishable existence of their own, like sensations, conceptions, or actions; they have no trace of objectivity whatever, but are, as Hamilton puts it,[176] "subjectively subjective": "pleasure is not a fact, nor is pain a fact, but one fact is pleasurable, another painful."[177] "its connection with objective states of mind," Pleasure, therefore, is a mere feeling of the subject, concomitant with the sensory or motor presentations which, by reason of their presence to consciousness, we call objects or actions. It is not something by itself which we can choose rather than something else, as we may select a peach instead of an apple. "through which it may be made the end of conduct." It can only be made the end of conduct in an indirect way. We must aim not at pleasure per se, but at objects which we have reason to believe will be accompanied by pleasurable feeling. Pleasure and pain, as it has been urged,[178] are not quantities that can be added and subtracted. It is not the pleasurable or painful feeling, but the perceptional or cognitive elements in the mental state of which it is an element, that admit of plurality and measurement. But we may foresee that one mental state will be accompanied by pleasurable, another by painful feeling, and, on that account, we may choose the former. In a great number of cases we are further able to make a quantitative estimate, and to say that the pleasurable feeling accompanying one object or action is more intense than that accompanying another, and thus to choose one object rather than another, not merely because one is pleasurable while the other is painful, but (in cases where both are pleasurable) because it is supposed that the one will yield more intense or more prolonged pleasure than the other. If this be true, the purely subjective nature of pleasure does not make it impossible for it to be taken as the practical end of conduct for the individual—however inexact and tentative many of its estimates must be—though it will shortly appear that its nature unfits it to be the end on the theory of evolution.

The difficulty arises when we attempt to interpret, by means of pleasure, the increase and development of life to which the course of evolution tends, and which is sometimes put forward as the end which the evolution-theory prescribes for conduct. And the difficulty also meets us when we seek to explain the conception of a maximum of pleasures as the end, by means of the conception of evolution.

As long as we are content to look upon human nature as consisting of constant sources of activity and enjoyment, and having fixed susceptibilities for pleasure and pain, it is easy to adopt the increase of pleasure and diminution of pain as our aim. But the case is altered when we take into consideration the fact that man's actions and sensibilities are subject to indefinite modification. Pleasure, as we have seen, is a feeling of the subject dependent upon the objects, sensory and motor, present at any time to consciousness. These objects alone can be our end; but we may aim at certain of them rather than others, simply on account of their pleasurable accompaniment. It may happen, however, that an object or action at one time pleasurable becomes painful at another time, and that what is now painful ceases to be so and becomes pleasurable. In this case our course of action, if motived by pleasure, would have to be entirely changed, our practical ethics revised and reversed. And, although no sudden alteration such as this ever takes place, the theory of evolution shows that a gradual modification of the kind is going on.

The conditions of pleasure and pain, physiological and psychological, are matter of dispute; and the dispute is complicated by the confusion of the physiological with the psychological problem. It will be evident, however,—if only we keep different things clear of each other,—that both kinds of explanation are possible, and that they are distinct from one another. The question of the nervous antecedents and concomitants of feeling is one thing, and quite distinct from the question which now arises of the mental antecedents or concomitants of feeling. And here the theories which have attempted a generalisation of the phenomena are, in the light of recent inquiry, mainly two: the theory that pleasure follows, or is the sense of, increase of life, and that which holds it to be the concomitant of unimpeded conscious functioning or of medium activities.

The former theory[179] might be put forward as indicating how it is possible to institute a connection between pleasure and evolution. But it has been already shown that neither the actual facts of life, nor the tendencies to action, can be so interpreted as to make their nature and development correspond, with any degree of exactness, with pleasure and its increase.[180] Nor is it possible to make out that every pain corresponds to a loss of vitality, every pleasure heightens it. On the contrary, the assertion that pleasure-giving actions and life-preserving actions coincide, is due to a hasty generalisation which cannot include all the facts. That it holds throughout a considerable extent is true. Pleasure is, at any rate, a usual accompaniment of the normal processes of the development of life; and pain reaches its climax in death. But yet there is a broad margin of experience for which the generalisation is incorrect. There are numerous cases of painful and pleasurable sensations which cannot be shown to be, respectively, destructive of, and beneficial to, vitality. As Mr Bain, who always keeps the facts in view, admits, with regard to the feelings connected with the five senses, "we cannot contend that the degree of augmented vital energy corresponds always with the degree of the pleasure."[181] The same discrepancy may be observed in more complex experiences. The effort after a fuller life, whether physical or mental, even when its ultimate success is not doubtful, may bring more pain than pleasure; while the life which never strains its powers towards the limits of endurance, may experience almost uninterrupted pleasure: but such pleasure is the sure herald of the process of degeneration.

The theory that pleasure follows increased vitality, and pain decreased vitality, is supplemented or opposed in modern psychology by the theory that feeling depends on function: that pleasure is the concomitant of medium activities,[182] or of conscious functioning, which is unimpeded and not overstrained[183]—pain accompanying the opposite condition. The objection urged against this view, that it leaves the so-called "passive pleasures" out of account, seems to be made without sufficient consideration of what is meant by attributing passivity to pleasure. All that such an expression can denote, would appear to be that, in the pleasurable experience referred to, no exercise of the muscles is implied, not that such an experience can take place without any conscious activity on the part of the subject. At the same time, the theory that pleasure in all cases depends upon function, must be admitted to be obliged to call in the aid of hypothesis in order to explain all the facts. If the generalisation required by the theory can be made out, it must be by emphasising the fact that feeling is never properly regarded as purely passive, but implies subjective reaction; and by supposing that the variation of feeling between pleasure and pain depends on a difference in the character of this subjective reaction. At the same time, the complete accuracy of this generalisation is not of vital importance here, as it is mainly with the feeling which manifestly results from activity or functioning that we are concerned.

Whether pleasure depends upon increase of vital energy, or upon unimpeded or medium functioning, it must be subject to modification along with the conditions under which life may continue and increase, or the modes of activity which may be carried on without opposition and in moderation. This constant modification of the objects in which one takes pleasure, or which give one pain, is, indeed, a fact which must be admitted by any theory of feeling. A state of mind may be at first pleasurable; but, if it be long-continued, the pleasure will give way to the pain of monotony. The same is true of a painful state of mind: its continuance does not prolong the same intensity of painful consciousness, but the sensibility becomes dulled and the pain diminishes. The transition is still more striking in the case of motor activities. In learning to walk, or to ride, or to play any instrument, the first experiences are those of painful effort. Gradually, however, the co-ordinations of movement required entail less and less pain, till the feeling passes over into its opposite, and we have a pleasurable sense of successful effort and well-adapted functioning. But, just as pain gave way to pleasure, so pleasure itself subsides, the action becomes merely reflex and passes out of consciousness altogether, unless it be so long continued as to produce fatigue—that is, pain. Habit, as Dumont remarks,[184] intensifies perceptions, but weakens pleasure and pain.

These are psychological facts—not mere theories—which hold true even of the individual experience. But they have led psychologists to the theory, supported by a vast amount of direct experiment, that there is no object or action which can be said to be absolutely and in itself either pleasant or painful.[185] The feeling of pleasure or pain accompanying the object is a function of its intensity in relation to the subject. This proposition cannot, indeed, be fully demonstrated regarding each simple sensation: to the emotions into which intricate relations of perceptions enter, it does not apply, till their complexity has been reduced. Some sensations and perceptions are certainly felt as painful in any intensity in which they are distinctly present to consciousness. But, although this is a real difficulty, it does not seem insuperable. The instances which Mill cites[186] to throw doubt on the generalisation that quality of feeling depends on intensity are unfortunately chosen for his purpose. For—to take his example—the taste of rhubarb is to many not painful but pleasant; and, indeed, every case of acquired taste shows that pleasure and pain can be modified through habit and custom, and suggests that, even in the case of those sensations which are painful in any form we have been able to experience them, there is a degree of intensity below which they would, if experienced, be pleasant. Experiment has proved of the majority even of sensible qualities, and analogy leads us to conclude of all, that there is a degree in which each may be pleasant, and a degree in which each may be painful, and, between them, a—real or imaginary—zero-point of feeling, where there is neither pleasure nor pain. This must, it is true, be received as a hypothesis only; but it is a hypothesis which is suggested by a wide range of facts, and which is able to include even those facts with which it is seemingly inconsistent, by supposing that could their intensity be indefinitely diminished without their passing out of consciousness, these sensations would reach a point after which they would be felt as pleasant and not as painful. Further, experiment shows that this dividing-point which separates the two poles of feeling is not always placed at the same degree of intensity, that it differs not only for every object, but for each individual subject as well, and that it undergoes modification in the course of the subject's development.[187]

What is true of sense-perception is still more evident regarding those experiences in which the activity of the subject is more obviously involved. As any function may, if carried beyond a certain degree of intensity, be painful, so any function consistent with life may be a source of pleasure.

From the preceding discussion two things may be inferred: first, the dependence of pleasure and pain on the subject-activity, whether the activity be that of perception or of what is specifically called action; and secondly, the modification of pleasure and pain, and transition from one to the other, along with the modification of that subject-activity. To the application of both these conclusions there may be limits; but their general accuracy does not seem doubtful. "(c) Application of the theory of evolution:" What the doctrine of evolution adds to this is its proof of the indefinite modifiability of human function. "It is an essential principle of life," Mr Spencer wrote,[188] before he had arrived at his general theory of evolution, "that a faculty to which circumstances do not allow full exercise diminishes; and that a faculty on which circumstances make excessive demands increases;" and to this we must now add, "that, supposing it consistent with maintenance of life, there is no kind of activity which will not become a source of pleasure if continued; and that therefore pleasure will eventually accompany every mode of action demanded by social conditions."[189] It is, he holds, a "biological truth," that "everywhere faculties adjust themselves to the conditions of existence in such wise that the activities those conditions require become pleasurable."[190] The vast periods of time over which evolution stretches are scarcely needed to show how pleasure may be made to follow from almost any course of action consistent with the continuance of life. The change of habits which often takes place in the history of a nation, and even in the life of an individual, makes this sufficiently obvious. But, if we still think of making attainment of pleasure the end of conduct, the doctrine of evolution must give us pause. It has been already argued that, given certain sources of, and susceptibilities for, pleasure, the course of evolution has not been such as to produce an exact coincidence between them and the actions which further life. "any conduct consistent with conditions of life will come to be pleasurable;" But it would seem that, given habits of acting which are consistent with the conditions of life, and which are systematically carried out, these will not fail to grow pleasant as the organism becomes adapted to them. At the best, it is difficult enough to say, even for the individual, whether one imagined object or course of action will exceed another in pleasurable feeling or not. But, when we remember that function and feeling may be modified indefinitely, it is impossible to say what course of conduct will produce the greatest amount of pleasure for the race. Taking in all its effects, we cannot say that one way of seeking pleasure is better—that is, will bring more pleasure—than another. Bearing in mind the modifications which evolution produces, it seems impossible to guide the active tendencies of mankind towards the goal of greatest pleasure, except by saying that the greatest pleasure will be got from the greatest amount of successful, or of unrestrained, or of medium activity.

If, then, we have been seeking to define the evolutionist end by interpreting it in terms of pleasure, it appears that we have only succeeded in making the round of a circle: pleasure as the end is seen to be only definable as life or activity, although it was adopted as the end in order that by its help we might discover what life or activity meant as the end for conduct. We may, perhaps, still be able to hold to a form of hedonism, if we turn our attention from the race to a small portion of present mankind. In spite of the modifiability of function and its parasite feeling, we may still be able to say that such and such a course of action is likely to bring most pleasure to the individual or even to the family. But we cannot extend such a means of interpreting the ethics of evolution to the race, where the possibility of modification is indefinitely great, and the pain incurred in initiating a change counts for little in comparison with its subsequent results. If we continue to look from the evolutionist point of view, the question, What conduct will on the whole bring most pleasure? can only be answered by saying that it is the conduct which will most promote life—an answer which might have been more satisfactory had it not been to give meaning to this end "promotion of life" that it was interpreted in terms of greatest pleasure. The evolution-theory of ethics is thus seen to oscillate from the theory which looks upon the summum bonum as pleasure, to that which finds it in activity. It contains elements which make it impossible for it to adhere to the former alternative. The comprehensiveness of its view of life makes it unable to adopt pleasure as the end, since pleasure changes with every modification of function. And it has now to be seen whether the empirical method of interpretation to which it adheres will allow of its notion of life or activity affording a satisfactory end for conduct.