THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY 320. 1 445 1830 The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary act.on and may result in dismissal from the Un.vers.ty. - URBAN A-CHAMPAIGN_ PRINCIPLES LEGISLATION: FROM THE MS. OF JEREMY BENTHAM; BENCHER OF LINCOLN'S INN. BY M. DUMONT, MEMBER OF THE REPRESENTATIVE AND SOVEREIGN COUNCIL OF GENEVA. TRANSLATED FROM THE SECOND CORRECTED AND ENLARGED EDITION ; WITH NOTES AND A BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE OF JEREMY BENTHAM AND OF M DUMONT. BY JOHN N E AL, . BOSTON: WELLS AND LILLY COURT-STREET. G. & C. & H. Can-ill, and E. Bliss, New York ; E. L. Carey & A. Hart, Philadelphia ; W. & J. Neal, Baltimore ; P. Thompson, Wash- ington ; W. Berrett, Charleston, S. C. ; Mary Carrol, New Orleans ; W. C. Little, Albany ; H. Howe, New Haven, and S. Colman, Portland. 1830. DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT: District Clerk's Office. HE IT REMEMBERED, that on the ninth day of April, A. D. 1830, in the fifty-fourth year of the Independence of the United States of America, Wells & Lilly, of the said District, have deposited in this Office the Title of a Book, the Right whereof they claim as Proprietors, in the words following, to ivit : " Principles of Legislation : From the MS. of Jeremy Bentham, Bencher cf Lincoln's Inn. By M. Diimi,nt, Meniherof the RepretCBtative and Sovereign Council of Geneva. Translated from the second corn cud and enlarged edition ; with notes and a biographical notice of Jereni) Bentham and of M. Duinont. By John Neal." In i-riiiforiiiity tc the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled " An Act for the en- conragemeni ot Learning, by securing ihe Copies of Maps, Charts and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies, during the times therein mentioned ;" and also to an Act, entitled, " An act supplementary to an Act, entitled An Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing- the Copies of Maps,Charts and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies during the times therein mentioned j and extending the Benefits thereof to the Arts of Designing, Engraving, and Etching Historical and other Prints." JNO. W. DAVIS, Clerk of the District of Massachusetts. PREFACE. HAVING a two-fold object in view, the work herewith submitted to my countrymen is in two parts. By the first, which is nothing more than a familiar biographical sketch, they are brought acquainted with the man Jeremy Bent- ham : by the last, which may be regarded as an abridgment of his whole system of philosophy, with the Philanthropist, the Lawgiver, and the Statesman. Of the biographical sketch referred to, which precedes the following translation of his celebrated work on MORALS and LAW, by M. Dumont of Geneva, a small part has already ap- peared in the Yankee and other journals of our country ; the remainder is entirely new. The whole of the second part has been carefully reviewed and compared with the origi- nals, paragraph by paragraph. The readers (and the writers) of the Edinburgh, Quar- terly, Westminster and North American Reviews, will now have what they never have had before an opportunity of knowing the truth and the whole truth about the character iV PREFACE. and opinions, the philosophy and the faith of a man, whose followers the calumniated Utilitarians are now so nume- rous and so powerful, as to be reckoned a party in the Bri- tish empire. I have concealed nothing palliated nothing I have nei- ther softened nor exaggerated the facts. And though a Util- itarian myself, a hearty disciple of Jeremy Bentham the philosopher and the lawgiver, and somewhat of a Radical, I profess to belong to no party either in politics or religion, to be of no sect either in belief or practice, and to have no sort of regard for Jeremy Bentham's theology. They who misrepresent the character of the party alluded to, that of their venerable founder, and the objects and opin- ions of both, do it generally from ignorance or misapprehen- sion, though sometimes with apolitical view. By the Tories the Utilitarians are judged of, as Radicals their leader as the high-priest of the Radicals. With the whigs it is pretty much the same. They are perpetually confounded together ; per- petually mistaken for each other, and always treated as a common adversary by the leading writers and chief states- men of the day : notwithstanding which, there are thousands of Radicals yea, tens of thousands, who know nothing of the Utilitarians or of their belief, and thousands of Utilitarians who never had any thing to do with any political party what- ever. PREFACE. V I may be, and I dare say shall be, blamed by both for what I have published here. The Utilitarians will say that I have betrayed them, by betraying their founder's religious belief, or want of religious belief : as if it were not high time for the whole truth to appear, now that so many falsehoods are about ; as if toleration could ever be expected where it was not manfully and bravely insisted on ; as if the follower of Jeremy Bentham's philosophy with regard to man, should be therefore a follower of his theology, or want of theology, with regard to the Builder of the Universe, the Great God of Heaven and Earth Jehovah. But while one party do this, the other, the unreasoning multitude, the Non-Utilita- rians may charge me with being an atheist myself, because I will not suffer even avowed atheism to deter me from ac- knowledging worth wherever I see it, nor from following truth in whatever shape it may appear. Be it so. What I have done, I have done conscientiously, and I shall not shrink from the consequences. The truth and the whole truth was wanted on both sides of the water, and here as much as there. But who should speak it ? Those who could, would not ; and those who would, could not. None but a professed and avowed Utilitarian could reveal the truth, and such Utilitarians were afraid. Believing as I do, that good may come out of Nazareth, I have not scrupled to acknow- ledge every thing that stands in its way, every drawback, every shadow, every fault, every ground of prejudice. J. N. Portland, April 1, ^830. CONTENTS. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE OF JEREMY BENTHAM. Page. CHAP. I. His GENERAL CHARACTER. .... 9 CHAP. II. GENERAL VIEW OF HIS WORKS. ... 27 CHAP. III. FAMILIAR ANECDOTES OF MR. BENTHAM. First Acquaintance with his Works Utilitarians First Interview Mil- ton's House The Dinner Mr. Adams Resemblance to Dr. Franklin Mr. B. Peculiarities of Dress, Diet, Language, &c. 41 CHAP. IV. Bentham's Reminiscences Garrick in Abel Drugger Effect of old age Parry the Panopticon His Theory of Punish- ments and Rewards Style Work on Evidence Father His first attempt in the Law Dumont Rough Language Summer Dress Fear of Ghosts Origin of Bentham His Father Sleeps stand- ing Avowal Butler Col. Young Writing Music Phrenolo- gy Benchers, what? Domestic Habits Fun of the Secretaries Father Wedderbourne The Musical Society His Grandmother Erskine Step-mother. ..... .. . 56 CHAP. V. Dr. Parr Mr. Parkes Col. Stanhope Dr. Maculloch Sympathy Penal Code Helvetius Relatives on the side of the mother Poetry Reading to Sleep Singular Habit of throwing up his Hair Ghosts Marked and Sheared Bed-chamber Habits Mr. Smith, M. P. Breakfast Fruit before Dinner His Bed- Servants Theory and Practice at War Bowring Sir F. Burdett Sir Samuel Romilly Cobbett Mr. B.'s Father Mother-in- Law Quarrel with Reform in the House Rhyming Love of Order Humanity Bentham on Style. . . 76 CHAP. VI. Panopticon Magnificent Project Poetry Fun Bowring Management Hume Goes to a Pantomime Aged Greek Mr. Gallatin Style of Dumont Dr. Johnson Boswell Voltaire Autumn Parallel between Bentham and Hobbes Biography, what .'Solly's Portrait 99 CHAPTER ON UTILITY. ('THE GREATEST-HAPPINESS PRINCIPLE.') . . . 119 CONTENTS. Vlll BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE OF M. DUMONT, BY J. B. . 148 SKETCH OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF STEPHEN DUMONT. BY J. C. L. DE SISMONDI. ... 157 PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. PRELIMINARY DISCOURSE. BY M. DTTMOWT. . . . 175 CHAP. I. Of the Principle of UTILITY. 195 CHAP. II. Of the Ascetic Principle 199 CHAP. III. the Arbitrary Principle, or Principle of Sympathy and of Antipathy 202 CHAP. IV. Operation of these Principles on the Matter of Legislation. 212 CHAP. V. FINAL EXPLANATION. Objections answered touching the Principle of Utility 215 CHAP. VI. Of the different Kinds of Pleasure and Pain. . . 223 Section I. Simple Pleasures. 224 Section II. Simple Pains. 227 CHAP. VII. Of Pains and Pleasures considered as Sanctions. . 231 CHAP. VIII. Of the Value of Pleasures and Pains. ... 237 CHAP. IX. Section I. Of the Circumstances that influence Sensibility, 240 Section II. Secondary Circumstances which influence our Sensi- bility . . . 247 Section III. Practical Application of this Theory. . 252 CHAP. X. Analysis of political Good and Evil how they are spread in Society. ....... 259 CHAP. XI. Reasons for declaring certain Acts to be Offences, . 268 CHAP. XII. Of the Limits which separate Morals from Legislation, 276 CHAP. XIII. Examples of False Modes of Reasoning on the Subject of Legislation. 285 PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. CHAPTER I. JEREMY BRNTHAM. HIS GENERAL CHARACTER. FOR more than half a century the labours of JERE- MY BENTHAM have been before the English, and the readers of English in every part of the world. (1) And yet, up to this hour, though extraordinary changes have lately occurred, and though his avowed follow- ers are now to be found in every part of Europe and throughout both Americas, and always among the more inquisitive, the more thoughtful, and the better- educated of their country, the views and objects of no man perhaps were ever so generally misunder- stood, or so strangely or so safely misrepresented. (2) Things are said of him and of his works, every day, and by the first men of the age, who are believed by the multitude to be familiar with both, and whose judgments go abroad therefore with the solemnity of decrees, though full of mischief and error things which have no foundation whatever in truth. Opi- nions that he never entertained in his life ; theo- ries that he has been waging war with for full fifty (1) His first work appeared in 1776. See the list published, commencing page 27. (2) See the North-American Review for Jan. 1828. 10 JEREMY BENTHAM. years, are attributed to him in works of authority, as the very foundation of that stupendous pile, which, after a long life of solitary labour, of discouraging, incessant, unassisted enquiry, he has riow r built up so high and spread out so far, and fortified with such magnificent proportions, that the rulers and lawgivers of the earth cannot overlook it, and will not be suf- fered to pass it by ; for the eyes of the people are beginning to be turned upon it and upon them, throughout both hemispheres, with a holy determina- tion to know the truth hereafter, and to enquire, eac4i man for himself, into the great principles of legisla- tion. They are growing, weary of law, wherever law is not upon the very face of it, reason. They are no longer satisfied, they never will be satisfied again, it is to be hoped, with arbitrary usage, or avowed mys- tery in the business of rule. They are tired of mak- ing bricks without straw of adopting faith after faith, in political as in religious life, at the bidding of au- thority. In a word, they are beginning to feel their strength, to interrogate the powers that be, to think highly of themselves, to believe that they are worth rea- soning with, and that however we may argue or phi- losophize, they are in fact the high court of appeal for the governing and the governed ; for judges and for legislators; the ultimate sovereign power to which every other power must yield, whenever a matter comes fairly to issue before them, either in the trial- place of nations the field of death ; or at the bar of nations the public-opinion tribunal. But the perversity and error to which I have allud- ed, as now distinguishing those, who ought to be fa- miliar with every work of their great countryman, will not be thought so very strange, perhaps, when we recollect that of what he has written, hardly a fourth part in bulk, and perhaps not a fiftieth part in value, has ever appeared in the native language of the author ; that until within a very few years, the most PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 1 1 valuable of his works were not only unknown to the great body of English every where, but actually un- heard of by his next-door neighbours, and by most of the lawgivers of the British empire, except through an occasional newspaper-paragraph, or a Quarterly sneer at the ballot-boxes, the unintelligible language, or the more unintelligible theory they were supposed to conceal. And this, while they were to be found in every public library of Europe, out of the author's own country and upon the table of every states- man, jurist, or philosopher of the continent ; this, af- ter nearly ten thousand copies of one work in three large octavo volumes, and nearly as many more of several other works by the same author, had been rescued by a foreigner from a heap of neglected manuscripts a treasury of wisdom a store-house of wonderful thought worked over into French, pub- lished at Paris re-translated, and republished in four or five other languages, and circulated in chapters throughout every quarter of the globe the north striving with the south, the new world with the old, to give them simultaneous publicity; and the whole being regarded everywhere, except in the immediate neighbourhood of the author, among his fellow-coun- trymen, or among those who speak the same language, as by far the most profound, extraordinary and useful work of the age. Dr. Parr used to say, and I might mention several more, that since the JYovum Organum appeared, there had been nothing in the history of the human mind to compare with the Principles of Morals and Legisla- tion (this very work) by Jeremy Bentham. Yet the doctor was no friend of the author. All their pur- suits in life were different, all their studies, all their prejudices and partialities, even their politics and their language. They were acquainted, and that was all. No two men ever pitied each other more. The doc- tor abominated the style of Bentham ; and Bentham 12 JEREMY BENTIIAM. believed the doctor to be incapable of understanding the subject-matter. It is very true that the style of Mr. Bentham now, is involved and peculiar ; now, I say, because at an earlier period, when he wrote his Fragment on Gov- ernment, in reply to Blackstone, and his celebrated work on Usury, it was thought remarkable for strength, purity, and ease. But the subjects now handled by Mr. Bentham, are as different from those then treated of, as are the problems of Euclid, or the doctrines of the Principia, from the elements of arithmetic. Then, he might be allowed to talk on paper to lay down what he had to say, without fear of being misunder- stood or misquoted. But now, it would be neither safe nor wise for him to do so. His propositions are startling enough, though accompanied with all their neutralizing qualifications and exceptions. A period now is not a period merely, nor a paragraph, nor a page but a problem. Hence the difficulty of his language now. They who are not acquainted with his earlier works, who have not followed him, through abridgment after abridgment of the same views, till what was once a large book, has been reduced to a chapter and then to a table, or it may be to a phrase, cannot well understand his English, and for that rea- son ought never to sit in judgment upon his works. But they may read him in French with safety. M. Dumont has made his chief mysteries intelligible ; and it is to M. Dumont therefore that we should as- cribe the growing popularity of Mr. Bentham among his own people. Compare the English quarto, enti- tled, "Introduction to the principles of Morals and Legislation," and published in 1789, with M. Du- mont's abridgment of the same work. One is a se- vere and almost unprofitable study, except to the pre- pared and thoroughly-disciplined, while the other is a beautiful and eloquent work, which almost any body might read with pleasure. But after you have gone PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. IS through with the French author, and made yourself master of the outlines, if you go back to the English, it will be with a fervency and relish that in most cases, will keep you there. I never knew any body satisfied with Bentham till he had become acquainted with Dumont ; nor any body that ever went back to the original, who could afterwards endure the translation. By this, I do not mean to speak lightly of the latter for, after all, it is to the translator that the men of Europe are now indebted for all they know of Jeremy Bentham ; and it is by the translator that posterity will be made familiar with him. No not familiar. I should not say this for M. Dumont had nothing to do with the man. It was the lawgiver and the phi- losopher that he dealt with ; and if no other were to follow, and give society a portrait of Jeremy Bent- ham, as he is with all his power and weakness, amazing wisdom and child-like simplicity, his breadth and his depth, in the e very-day business of life,- most of the errors that prevail now with regard to him and his views, might prevail forever. It is not enough to know that Jeremy Bentham was born " the 14-5 Feb. 1747-8," to give the fact from his own mouth in his own way ; that he is therefore at this time upwards of fourscore and two, and like Lear ' mightily abused ;' that for many years, the codifying-project, the style, the involved sentences of the philosopher, which have been rather happily compared to a nest of pill-boxes, and the strange words invented by him, which though expres- sive and powerful enough when rightly explained, (3) are unintelligible to the careless or the uninitiated, have been a subject of raillery or abuse with almost every magazine-writer and speech-maker of England ; (3) Some of these words are in general use now as a part of our language international for instance; it originated with him. Codification is ano- ther, with its derivatives and cognates. But others are not very likely to be adopted the verb to re-nn-certainize for example; which means, being inter- preted, to make-uncertain-again. 14 JEREMY BENTHAM. that till the year 1824, when the following paragraph appeared in Blackwood, Mr. Bentham had never been respectfully mentioned by any of the British journals, except the Edinburgh Review, (4) though they were in the habit of alluding both to his works and himself continually, as if well acquainted with both : " Set- ting aside John Locke's Constitution for North Ca- rolina, and Jeremy Bentham's conundrums in le- gislation, to speak reverently of what we cannot speak irreverently of, a truly great and incomprehen- sible mind, whose thoughts are problems, and whose words when they are English miracles" (5) the author of which had never seen Mr. Bentham, and knew him only through a part of his works and the general misrepresentation of others. Nor is it enough to know that a mighty change has been wrought within a very few years, and that he is be- ginning to be regarded now by the greatest of his fellow-countrymen, as by far the most extraordinary man alive. Something more familiar must be had, something in the nature of a portrait, whereby others may be made acquainted, not merely with the Lord Bacon of our age, the great high-priest of legisla- tion, the chief among lawgivers; but with the man Jeremy Bentham. Such a portrait is now to be attempted for the lovers of such biography. It will be for them to say whether a magnificent picture, which, by resembling every body, would be a portrait of nobody, is worthier of admiration. It may be wanting in dignity I hope it may but of this the reader may be sure : what- ever it wants in dignity shall be made up in truth ; and in such truth too as will soon be sought after with deep solicitude, not only here, and in the country of our philosopher, but throughout the whole earth. After a few preliminary observations, I shall take (4) In the Edinburgh Review, No. 57, p. 237, mention is made of Mr. B. by Sir Samuel Romilly ; one of his most distinguished and enthusiastic disciples. (5) Blackwood, Dec, 1824, p. 649. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 15 up a body of memoranda, now lying before me, which were made every night, and before I slept, after we had passed the evening together^ and transfer them, with as little change as possible, directly to these pages. They, therefore, who wish to be acquainted with the lawgiver and the philosopher, and with him only, need not throw away one single hour upon this part of the book, which is intended for such, and for such only as care to be acquainted with the man, but proceed forthwith to the second part, where Bentham and Dumont are occupied with the great business of morals and legislation. The followers of Mr. Bentham, disciples they might be called, for take them together', there is not such another body of sober enthusiasts and thorough-going devotees alive, are multiplying on every side of him now, in a part of his country, where five years ago his name was never alluded to, his works never men- tioned, but with ridicule and reproach. A Quarterly Review has been established by him ; (6) several of his neglected manuscripts have been dug out of his " work-shop," and given to the world in pretty good English, though most of them were left to the edi- torship of inexperienced writers, or still more inexpe- rienced thinkers; (7) changes that he predicted years (6) The Westminster Review, of which Mr. John Bowring and Mr. Henry Southern were the editors both well qualified for the superintendence of a lighter and more agreeable work ; but in every way disqualified for that of a Quarterly Review. They were supplied for a time, however, by a club of Utilitarians, of which Mr. Mill the father and Mr. Mill the son, both capital fault-finders, Mr. George Grote, the banker, Mr. Parke, the ' Solicitor of War- wickshire,' alluded to by Mr. Brougham in his celebrated speech on the State of English Law, Mr. I. and Mr. C. Austin, Mr. Hill, and Mr. Bingham, the barristers, and a few more, did all the thinking, while the editors did all the talking and proof-reading. (7) Mr. Bowring edited the pamphlet called " Observations on the Com- mercial System," published at London, 1821. Mr. George Grote, the banker, (a writer of great zeal, strength, and acuteness) a work of 140 pages, octavo, on Natural Religion, published under the name of Philip Beauchamp. Lon- don, 1822. Mr. Richard Doane, private secretary of the Author, a mere boy at the time, but clever, his Not Paul but Jesus, a theological work in 400 pages, octavo, with tables, published under the borrowed name of Gamaliel Smith. London, 1823. Mr. Bingham, the reporter, the Book of Fallacies, published in 1824, in 411 pages octavo, and reviewed in a masterly manner, 16 JEREMY BENTHAM. and years ago, have occurred in the political faith oi his chief countrymen ; the British parliament has felt and acknowledged his influence through her principal ministers, and ablest orators, and wisest lawgivers ; and what more than any thing else, may have contri- buted to the removal of the ban of the empire, the people of the Edinburgh-Review, and even those of the Quarterly, have had the courage to read here and there a chapter of his lighter works, and to pronounce judgment thereon, without much regard to the repu- tation of the author, as the head of a dangerous poli- tical party. (8) Notwithstanding the change that has taken place however, such is the retired life that Mr. Bentham has lived for nearly half a century, at what he calls the hermitage of Queen-square-Place, never going abroad except for a walk in the fresh air, never see- ing any body but his house-keeper and secretary till the business of the day is over ; enduring no visits either of ceremony or curiosity, friendship or business, except when they refer to the subject-matter he is dealing with ; encountering not so many as half a score of strangers in a twelve-month, nor ever more than one at a time ; that, as to the public of his coun- try, they know nothing about him, for his next-door neighbours hardly know him by sight ; and as to the public men of his country, who are in the habit of tel- by the Rev. Sydney Smith, in the Edinburgh Review, No. LXXXIV. Mr. John Mill, a youth of twenty-one, the great work, entitled Rationale of Evidence, in five large octavos, also reviewed in the Edinburgh, No. XCVI. Mr. George Bentham, his nephew, the Outlines of a New System of Logic, a vol- ume of 288 pages octavo. And of the distinguished men alluded to above, all statesmen, orators, and writers, Sir Samuel Romilly, Sir Francis Burdett, Mr. Brougham, Mr. Peel, and Mr. Canning, may be mentioned as either avowed or secret followers of Mr. Bentham. The first was a devotee ; the second either a believer or not a believer, as he happened to be or not to be, within the reach of his Gamaliel ; the third a hearty and earnest follower in his great plan of reform, for which he was frequently upbraided ; the fourth, a se- cret disciple, and the fifth a fellow-labourer hi the very constitution of his mind, so large and liberal was it, so ready to regard the whole earth as one great brotherhood of nations. (8) The last numbers of the Edinburgh contain papers on the subject of Utilitarian logic and politics. See No. XCVIL, XCVIIL, XCIX., &c. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 1 7 ling, believing, and vouching for a thousand strange stories about the Philosopher, as they call him there are not forty, I do believe, that ever saw his face. The Blackwood-writers know nothing at all of him ; the writers of the Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviews not much; and they who do know him, the chief writers of the Westminster Review, being his disci- ples and followers rather in secret than openly, dare not deal with him as they would with a stranger, who had written a fiftieth part as much or as well ; they seldom or never speak of him aware that if they did, no attention would be paid to what they might say in his favour. With the exception of a review of * Swear Not,' by Dr. Maculloch the geologist, a re- view of Mr. Humphreys by the philosopher himself, a reply to the Edinburgh Review on the subject of the Rationale of Evidence, and another, on that of the greatest-happiness principle, I do not remember that Mr. Bentham is ever mentioned in the West- minster Review. Like Mr. Mill, the author of Bri- tish India, who is indebted to Mr. Bentham for the very groundwork, and for the best part of the ma- terials of his own reputation, having borrowed large- ly from him in almost every chapter of that very work, and the whole of what concerns the trial of Warren Hastings, without acknowledgment, (9) most of those writers are too politic and selfish to do justice to a benefactor, where it could only be done by betraying themselves. Were they to send others to the mine, out of the very dust of which they have gathered enough to make them not only rich, but celebrated over Europe, what would be- (9) The reader who is familiar with Mr. Bentham's writings may be refer- red also to the articles in the supplement to the Encyclopedia Brittanica, on Government, Jurisprudence, Colonies, the Laws of Nations, and Prisons and Prison-Discipline, by Mr. Mill, reviewed in the Edinburgh Review, No. XCVII. He will be astonished to see how little of what is good belongs to the supposed author, (Mr. Mill) how much to the unsuspected author, Jeremy Bentham . 18 JEREMY BENTHAM. come of their reputation ? They are now at the head of the severe and original thinkers of the age. Were they to do themselves and their preceptor jus- tice had they time to look after the renown or the welfare of that man w r ho has literally been feeding them for years feeding not only their minds with the very wisdom and strength for which they are ce- lebrated, where they are celebrated at all, but their very bodies with food; nineteen twentieths of their glory as original-thinkers would depart from them, whatever might be the augmentation of another sort of glory, that which relates to the kindlier and more generous nature of man. Their heads might lose more than their hearts would gain. And as for the more popular writers of the day, who have attempted to give the public a notion of the philosophy, the character, the mind, or even the per- sonal appearance of the sage, there is not one I say it seriously and advisedly not one that ever knew him, nor more than two or three who had ever seen him, or so much as read a list of his works. To pass over a writer in the North American Review, for January 1828, who was led astray by the general error (which the editor has now an opportunity of correcting,) Major Parry, Hazlitt, the author of La- con, (the Rev. C. C. Colton,) and the Rev. Sydney Smith, of the Edinburgh, may be mentioned as par- ticularly distinguished for what they have said, with- out any knowledge of either, about the behaviour and the appearance, or the works and the philoso- phy, of Mr. Bentham. Parry, whose laughable account of him used to de- light Byron so much, no part whereof was absolutely true, though in every part there was a something like the truth you see in a broad caricature, dined with Mr. Bentham once, and but once. And Mr. Hazlitt hired a house of him (the rent of which he never paid), overlooking the beautiful garden, where the philoso- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 19 pher used to run about with his venerable hair and quaker coat flapping in the wind. I mention the fact about the rent, because I do in my heart believe that Hazlitt, who values himself on being a good hater, would have loved Mr. Bentham, if he had been al- lowed to occupy the house forever, rent-free. Yet were you to judge by the confident ease of the bio- grapher, you would believe he had been familiar with Mr. Bentham almost from their boyhood up ; but he never spoke with him, I believe, and probably never saw him in his life except from a two-pair-of-stairs window overlooking the garden alluded to. He has published two different portraits of Mr. Bentham, both of which were evidently prepared with seriousness, and published to the world for truth and truth too of the writer's own knowledge. But Mr. Hazlitt is still a painter, (10) and a painter too, not from life, but from others. He dares not " look nature in the face," how- ever beautifully he may talk of the advantage to be hoped from so studying her. (11) To show the value of these pretended portraits, and with what impunity anything may be said of Jeremy Bentham, even to his next-door neighbours, I would refer to what Mr. Haz- litt has ventured to publish of the general character of his mind for he declares that Mr. Bentham has made * no discovery,' and that he is therefore only a sort of labour-saving machine to ' show what others had done before him, and how far human knowledge had advanced :' When the truth of the matter is that the character of Mr. Bentham's mind is so decidedly and amazingly original, that every body with whom he ever held fellowship, and all that have ever studied his works, are distinguished by their originality, if by nothing more ; and that he has never written a page (10) Mr. H. originally betook himself to painting, and made at least one capital copy in the Louvre, which was bought by Hay den, the painter, at a large price, and I believe paid for at 50. (11) Hazlitt's Table Talk. 20 JEREMY BENTHAM. no, not one page without leaving a new chart for others to steer by, nor without making what are as much entitled to be regarded as discoveries, by every succeeding navigator, as were those of Cook, after he had approached the unvisited isles of the Pacific the vast overpeopled solitudes of a new sea. Yet Mr. Bentham is not so remarkable for invention for dis- covery in the seed, as for originality in pursuing and developing a subject ; in bringing the seed to maturi- ty. A hint with him, as with Christopher Columbus, may lead to the discovery of worlds yea of many worlds in that universe of thought, which after having been explored for centuries added to centuries, by the mightiest among men, the very giants of the earth, still remains what it was at the beginning, a Universe of Thought, where all that we know is like our know- ledge of the Deity a sublime faith, a magnificent hope. To originality in the vulgar sense of the word, there may be nothing but a very questionable title now, for any body to hope for. Sir Isaac Newton, above a hundred and forty years ago, conjectured that diamonds were charcoal. It has lately been disco- vered that they are so. But of what value was the conjecture to those who set about the proof? Did it assist them in their labour ? Did it abridge the process of enquiry ? Did it serve to assure, to en- courage, or to lead them a single step on their way ? The principle is the same every where, and with every body. (12) The most of Jeremy Bentham's (12) Why do we ascribe to Adam Smith the discovery of what political economists have agreed to call the division of labour ? Is it that the idea ori- ginated with him ? No for it did not. As long ago as 1824, after Smith had enjoyed the reputation of a discoverer for nearly twenty-five years, Lord Lau- derdale showed by a passage from Xenophon that he understood the advan- tages of that very division of labour, even in the business of cookery, and by another from Harris's Essay on Money and Coins, that he was apparently mas- ter of the whole subject. And since Lauderdale, a French writer, the indefa- tigable J. B. Say, in his note, upon the cours d' economic politique of Mr. Henry Storchi, has shown that Plato understood and reasoned upon the subject of a division of labour, in his Republick, and that Beccaria, in his Course of Political Economy, and Turgot, in his Reflexions sur la formation et la dis- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 21 works, if not altogether original, are as much so as any works of man ever were ; and of themselves may be regarded with soberness and truth, as the greatest dis- coveries ever yet made in morals and legislation. But, nevertheless, if you go through them one by one, link by link, you find them to have originated afar off, in a casual enquiry, brought about in his youth by a casual hint, which but for him, would have been, or might have been, overlooked forever by the rest of the world. So with Columbus so with Newton so with Bacon. The principles of truth are the germs of all knowledge. They are not to be invented ; they are to be discovered. But a discoverer not being an in- ventor, is not regarded by the world, as an original or originating genius. But leaving the subject of Mr. Bentham's mind, as well as that of the general character of his works, of which it is not to be presumed that Mr. Hazlitt could judge, let us follow Mr. H. a step or two farther, and observe how he speaks of that, which as a popular and very beautiful and spirited magazine-purveyor of the day, would naturally lie within the sphere of his knowledge. The opening the very first paragragh, in the biographical notice of Mr. Bentham, which ap- peared in the Spirit of the Age, Mr. Hazlitt's third attempt at telling the truth, contains the following passage : " We believe that the empress Katherine corresponded with him; and we know that the empe- ror Alexander called upon him, and presented him with his miniature in a gold snuff box, which the phi- losopher to his eternal honour returned." Observe the tribution des richesses (p. 3, 4, 50, 62, 66, and 67) were familiar with its de- tails. Yet, notwithstanding all this, Adam Smith is everywhere looked upon as the discoverer. And why ? Parceque ces auteurs se bornent ;\ montrer que la division du travail contribue a la perfection de 1'ouvrage : or cette observa- tion se presente d'elle-meme, et elle ne conduit guPre a des consequences im- portantes. Smith au contraire, a detnontr, ; , que la division ne perfectionne pas senlement le produitdu travail, mais qtfelle raugmente encore a un point etonnant, et que c'est la son principal avantage, puisque par la elle de- dent la source de I'abondance de tous les produits du travail. 22 JEREMY BE.NTHAM. language here. We believe this thing ; but we know that. Now the fact is, that neither happens to be true. Mr. Bentham corresponded so far, not with Katherine, but with Alexander of Russia, as to re- ceive a letter from him with a diamond-ring of great price, by the minister of that monarch at London the letter he kept, the ring he returned. One other fact a trifle to be sure in itself, but worth refer- ring to, when regarded as the deliberate testimony of a man who professes to know the person he speaks of so familiarly: On the sixth page, he calls the eye of Mr. Benlham a lack-lustre-eye : on the very next page, however, the seventh he speaks of it as a " quick and lively eye, and a restless eye" all which is eminently characteristic of the showy, clever, slap- dash magazine-writer, who made up the " Spirit of the Age" for the amusement of the public, and the profit of a publisher, without any regard to the great purposes of biography. With the Rev. Mr. Colton, the author of Babylon the Great, the Rev. Sydney Smith of the Edinburgh Review, certainly one of the shrewdest and plea- santest writers of the age, and a few more, I shall not now take up the reader's time. They will be found in the preliminary chapter on Utility. Were I called upon to give the character of Mr. Bentham in a few words, without entering into de- tail, I should speak of him as the most child-like, and at the same time one of the wisest and best, and therefore one of the greatest of God's creatures ; a man whom it were impossible to know without lov- ing and revering him ; whose errors and with all his goodness and greatness, even he is not exempt either from errors of opinion or of conduct are no part of his philosophy, whatever they may be of his humanity. Having done this, I should try to run a parallel be- tween him and Hobbes ; for in the grander as well as in the smaller features of both, in their strength as PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 23 well as in their weakness, they are alike; though the philosopher of our day, having always been occupied with the chief business of the world, Utility, may be regarded as altogether and immeasurably superior to the great author of the Leviathan. The resemblance may now be mentioned in a general way ; but here- after when the reader is made acquainted with Mr. Bentham, as one man is with another about a supper- table, or at a lunch under the green trees in the open air I do not say about a dinner-table ; for two men will be better acquainted after talking five minutes to- gether by the way-side, over a mug of beer and a bit of bread-and-cheese, than at half a dozen formal din- ner-parties, I shall refer to the particular features wherein they so resemble each other. It may not be amiss however to mention here, that a thousand extraordinary stories are in circulation about Mr. Bentham in his very neighbourhood, which have no foundation whatever in truth ; and that a multitude more, which may be had on authority, with names, dates and witnesses, every day in the year among those who do not live a stone's-throw from the hermitage though like the truth, are still so untrue, as to make it wonderful that they should ever be repeated by any body of character; much more that they should be, as they are, generally believed by the first men of the day, and gravely repeated in the newspapers, journals, and reviews of the day, to say nothing of the books. The truth is undoubtedly strange enough, and laugh- able enough sometimes; but never no never had I been so lucky as to hear any thing like the truth, be- fore I had an opportunity of judging for myself, about the behaviour, temper, general appearance or general character of Mr. Bentham. It was believed by many, it is now, even by the Quarterly and Edinburgh Re- viewers, that he is the head of a dangerous and power- ful party, who gather together by deputation at his house 24 JEREMY BENTHAM. from every part of the globe holding a sort of con- gress, where all the turbulent and fiery spirits of Eu- rope and of the two Americas, are literally represented. But the truth is that Mr. Bentham belongs to no par- ty, though he is claimed by the Radicals of England as their chief, on account of his parliamentary reform- bill, and his great influence with the head-reformers of the law. The rest of the story grew out of the fact perhaps, that Aaron Burr, the shipwrecked Cassar of America, found a refuge with our philosopher, when he had no other place on earth to lay his head ; that whenever a distinguished statesman or political reformer of Europe is driven abroad from his country by the convulsions there, he generally goes to Eng- land, where the very first person he asks after for no other Englishman is thought so much of or talked so much of, on the continent is Jeremy Bentham ; and that a few of his more youthful and more zealous disciples were in the habit of assembling together at his house, in the year U525-6, for debate and consul- tation among themselves. But, although they did this for above a twelvemonth, he never met with them, nor was it expected of him ; and of their whole num- ber not more than half perhaps had ever interchanged a word with him. And as for the deputies from the disaffected of all Europe, I am sure that nobody was ever able to obtain a sight of him, for nearly two years that we were acquainted, without more delay and more difficulty than would have stood in the path of a presentation to half the crowned-heads of Europe. I have known him refuse to see a Russian counseller of state who had come to London chiefly, if not altogether, for the purpose of seeing him, and I might mention a multitude more. Mr. Bowring the poet, told me himself, that he was trying for more than a twelvemonth before he succeeded ; and for my part, 1 can say that I was above a year in England, without knowing any body but Mr. Owen of Lanark, PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 25 and a Mrs. Wheeler, the Mary Wolstencraft of our day, who had ever seen the face of that extraordinary man. Two other stories may be mentioned, which are generally, I might say universally, received there. I wonder you were not afraid to go near him, said a superior female to me, having heard that Mr. Bent- ham had offered me an interview. Why so, madam? Ah you have no idea of his character, said she; the queerest old man alive. One of his most intimate friends told me not long ago, that he was undoubt- edly deranged; for he keeps a number of young men to follow him about, and pick up what they call his sibylline leaves, leaves upon which he had scribbled in characters that nobody but they who had gone through a long apprenticeship to the work, might ever hope to decypher, and which he scatters about him to the right and left in his post-prandial vibra- tions. (13) I believe that is the phrase for his after- dinner-walk in the ditch. I laughed ; but that was all I durst not contradict the story; for I already knew enough of the "strange old man" to perceive some truth in it; and how could I know that any part was untrue? But I was very soon afterwards able to distinguish the one from the other. I do not know, but I should suspect Mr. Bentham's old friend, Dr. Macullochthe geologist, of the story; so untrue is it, and still so like the truth: for Mr. Bentham does keep two secretaries constantly employed in deciphering his abominable manuscript, and with the one or the other he is always seen when he goes to take his trot in that large and beautiful garden of his, which borders a part of St. James's Park. At another time I was assured, on authority, that not long before, one of the British-cabinet having dropped a line to him to enquire about a provision (13) See Ode to the Goddess Ceres, in Odes on Cash, Corn, and Catholics, by Moore. 4 26 JEREMY BENTHAM. recommended by Sir Samuel Romilly, he wrote a book in reply. This was a capital story, to be sure but like the story told by Hazlitt, of the miniature offered to Bentham by Alexander of Russia: though there was some truth in it, there was so much un- truth, as to spoil it. At the time alluded to, Mr. Bentham had never had any correspondence with the British ministry, except about hjs Panopticon, where the government were told in a few brief and powerful words, that they had broken their faith, and ruined a man for trusting to it ; and to the value of a page or so with Mr. Canning, to obtain the release of a man who had literally insinuated himself into a French prison, by pretending to know more than he ever did, or ever could know about the disorganized patriots of Europe. I allude to Mr. Bowring. But after this, Mr. Bentham had a somewhat lengthy I like the word here a somewhat lengthy corre- spondence with Mr. Peel, touching his celebrated re- form and consolidation of the statutes ; and is now in regular correspondence with the British ministry on the subject of Law r -Reform. Of other and similar stories a book might be made; but these are enough. And now before we go to the familiar facts which are to be laid before the reader, it may not be amiss to give a summary view of the labours of our author leaving their merit and pecu- liar character to be treated of at large, under a dif- rent head hereafter. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 27 CHAPTER II. GENERAL. VIEW OF HIS WORKS. JEREMY BEI^HAM is now in his eighty-third year. While he was yet a young man, he distinguished him- self by a masterly attack on Blackstone's Commenta- ries. (14) It appeared in one volume, and was so remarkable for beauty of style and strength of argu- ment, as to be ascribed to the first writers of the age and among others to Lord Mansfield, who used to speak of it in the highest terms. Not long after this, he took the field on the subject of the hard labour bill, then before parliament ; and here probably originated that unappeasable spirit of enquiry, which for more than half a century has now distinguished him. It was entitled A VIEW OF THE HARD LABOUR BILL ; with observations relative to Pe- nal Jurisprudence in general. 1778, 8vo. pp. 144. Nine years after, came forth his DEFENCE OF USURY, at that time regarded rather as a theological, than as a political question ; and in an essay which never has been refuted and never will, though it is very brief, and a perfect model for clearness and simplicity of style, he demonstrated the absurdity of regulating the interest of money by law. From that day to this, all (14) Called a "Fragment on Government; or a Comment on the Com- mentaries." It appeared in 1776, when the author was in his twenty-eighth year, in 8vo, 265 pp. A new edition is lately out. The MS. from which M. Dumont abstracted the Theory of Punishment and Rewards, was written yet earlier in 1775, when the author was only in his twenty-seventh year. When Blackstone was asked if he meant to reply to the Fragment, he said " no not even if it was better written." But though he made no answer to it, nor any mention of it by name, he did not altogether refrain from noticing it. In the prefar.e to the following edition of the work, there were allusions to it. Suppressed Preface to the last edition of the Fragment. 28 JEREMY BENTHAM. that has ever been urged on the same side, though by certain of the ablest writers and statesmen of Eu- rope and America, may be referred immediately and directly to this very essay so difficult was it to say any thing new, after Jeremy Bentham had exhausted the subject. In 1789 appeared the original quarto edition of* MORALS AND LEGISLATION, the groundwork of the au- thor's whole fame with Dr. Parr an^others of like amplitude and strength of mind. It has lately been repufolished in a more readable shape ; and may be regarded as these very principles in the rough, which are now submitted to the world. It is not to be de- nied that the language is rather obscure ; that it re- quires a painful degree of attention to master it; that as a work it might be greatly improved ; and that so far as the English and our people are concerned, it has been from that day to this, very shamefully neg- lected; but nevertheless I repeat what I have said before. It is the JVovum Orgamim of Morals and Le- gislation. It contains the seeds and elements of all truth in these two great sciences the greatest the human mind was ever yet employed upon. Before Bentham wrote, all was chaos in the whole history of legislation. But now it is beginning to wear the shape of science ; and to him we are entirely indebt- ed for this. Not long after, followed the PANOPTICON, or the IN- SPECTION-HOUSE : containing the idea of a new princi- ple of construction applicable to any sort of establish- ment, in which persons of any description are to be kept under inspection ; and in particular to penitentia- ry houses, prisons, houses of industry, work-houses, poor-houses, manufactories, mad-houses, lazarettos, hospitals, and schools : with a plan of management adapted to the principle 1791. These are the cele- brated letters on the subject of Prisons and Prison Dis- cipline, to which Europe and America are chiefly in- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 29 debtcd for the improvements made during the last half century in the structure of prisons and treatment of pri- soners, and all this without any acknowledgment in favour of the author our Prison-Discipline-Society of Boston, among the rest. If they would look into Bentham, they would find that most of their discove- ries and suggestions, and hopes and views originated with him ; that he was ahead of them half a century ago in the besj^part of their plan ; and that if they would, they might have their mistakes rectified, and their deficiencies supplied, by a paragraph or two bor- rowed here and there, out of his Panopticon. This work received so much attention, that a bill was brought into parliament, and the appropriation was actually made under the administration of Mr. Pitt, for carrying the project into full operation. But, owing to a personal grudge on the part of the reign- ing monarch against Bentham for a review of one of his majesty's papers, he, George the Third, would not sign the order for the money, and the affair dropped through. And just so it was in France there an ap- propriation was made ; but the breaking out of the revolutionary war put a stop to the erection of the buildings. And so in Spain. While that country was under the sway of the Cortes, large appropriations were made for the same purpose ; but change follow- ed change, and the money, if it was ever collected, which is doubtful, was diverted into other channels more immediately affecting the safety of the state. To these succeeded the following works, in the order mentioned below. DRAUGHT OF A CODE FOR THE ORGANIZATION OF THE JUDICIAL ESTABLISHMENT IN FRANCE : with critical ob- servations on the draught proposed by the National Assembly Committee, in the form of a perpetual com- mentary 1790 91. 8vo. 242 pages, very closely printed. This work is one of Mr. Bentham's mas- terpieces ; eloquent and powerful, and clear as ever 30 JEREMY BENTHAM. language was. Mr. Mill, the father, has borrowed largely from it in his capital Essay on Jurisprudence, in the Supplement to the Encyclopedia Brittanica.(l 5.) ESSAY ON POLITICAL TACTICS : containing six of the principal Rules proper to be observed by a political assembly, in the process of forming a decision : with the reasons on which they are grounded ; and a com- parative application of them to British and French practice : being a fragment of a Iarge4n^brk; a sketch of which is subjoined, 1791, 4to. pp. (54. A very significant though brief essay, out of which and some others on the same subject, M. Dumont afterwards produced a French work, in two large vols. 8vo. SUPPLY WITHOUT BURTHEN ; or Escheat vice Taxa- tion : published with 1st Edition of Protest against Law Taxes, 1796, small 8vo. or 12 mo. EMANCIPATE YOUR COLONIES : An address by the au- thor to the National Assembly of France, whose pre- decessors had made him a French citizen ; a power- ful and beautifully-written pamphlet in favour of Free Trade, 1793, 8vo. pp. 48. PAUPER MANAGEMENT : a Letter on the SITUATION AND RELIEF OF THE POOR ; addressed to Mr. Arthur Young (to whose journal he was a contributor at the time of the newspaper controversy with George the Third, which led to the refusal of the king to sign the order mentioned in page 29), editor of the Annals of Agriculture, and published in that work, 1797, 8vo. pp. 288 ; with tables. LETTERS TO LORD PELHAM, &.c. &c. &c., Giving a comparative view of the system of penal coloniza- tion in New South-Wales, and the home-penitentiary system prescribed by two acts of parliament of the years 1794 and 1799 ; viz. in consequence of an ac- ceptance given to a proposal of the author's, ground- (15) Reviewed by the Rev. Sydney Smith, in the Edinburgh Review, No. XCVII. Controversy continued in Edinburgh Review, No. XCVIII. and XCIX. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 31 ed on the plan delineated in the Panopticon as above, (page 28). 1802, 8vo. PLEA FOR THE CONSTITUTION, 1803 : written in con- tinuation of the above. SCOTCH REFORM, compared with English Non-Re- form : in a series of letters to Lord Grenville, 1806, 8vo. pp. 100, closely printed : relative to the judicial establishment of Scotland and England. ELEMENTS OF. THE ART OF PACKING, as applied to Special Juries: particularly in cases of libel-law, 8vo. pp. 269, printed 1810, published 1821. " SWEAR NOT AT ALL ;" containing an exposure of the needlessness and mischievousness, as well as anti- Christianity of the ceremony of an oath : with proof of the abuses of it, especially in the University of Ox- ford, printed 1813 : published 1817, pp. 97. TABLE OF SPRINGS OF ACTION: printed anno 1815 : published anno 1817, 8vo. DEFENCE OF ECONOMY against Edmund Burke : (writ- ten 1810) published in the Pamphleteer, No. XVI. January 1817, 8vo. pp. 47. DEFENCE OF ECONOMY against the Right Honoura- ble George Rose: (written 1810) published in the Pamphleteer, No. XVIII. January 1817, pp. 52. CHRESTOMATHIA, Part I. explanatory of a proposed school for the extension of the new system of instruc- tion to the higher branches of learning, for the use of the middling and higher ranks of life, 1816, 8vo. Part. II. being an essay on nomenclature and classifi- cation : including a critical examination of the En- cyclopedical table of Lord Bacon, as improved by D'Alembert, 1817. With tables. PLAN OF PARLIAMENTARY REFORM, with reasons for each article: and an introduction, showing the neces- sity of radical, and the inadequacy of moderate reform, 1817. Papers relative to CODIFICATION and PUBLIC IN- STRUCTION : including correspondence with the Em- 32 JEREMY BENTHAM. peror Alexander, and the President and divers other constituted authorities of the American United-States, 1817, 8vo. CHURCH-OF-ENGLANDISM and its Catechism examin- ed : preceded by strictures on the exclusionary sys- tem, as pursued in the National Society's Schools: interspersed with parallel views of the English and Scottish established churches : and concluding with remedies proposed for abuses indicated : and an exa- mination of the parliamentary system of church re- form lately pursued, and still pursuing : including the proposed new churches, pp. 794, mostly very closely printed. Observations on the RESTRICTIVE AND PROHIBITORY COMMERCIAL SYSTEM, especially with reference to the decree of the Spanish Cortes of July 1820. " Leave us alone." From the MSS. of Jeremy Bentham, Esq. By John Bowring. In addition to these and it may be well enough to observe here that the SPRINGS OF ACTION and CHRES- TOMATHIA, are the two greatest, after the MORALS AND LEGISLATION there are a considerable number of works published anonymously or under fictitious names, of which Mr. Bentham was the originator and author. THE BOOK OF FALLACIES, edited by Mr. Bingham, the law reporter, and editor of the Parliamentary Re- gister and Review, 8vo. pp. 400 ; a very satisfac- tory and liberal review of which, by the Rev. Syd- ney Smith, appeared in the Edinburgh Review, No. LXXXIV. Analysis of the INFLUENCE OF NATURAL RELIGION : published by Richard Carlisle, in 1822 ; and issued under the name of Philip Beauchamp. Undoubtedly a very able work ; though intended to prove that all religions are the growth of uncertainty, perplexity and fear, and all alike unworthy of regard. (16.) (16) The hints were borrowed from Helvetius, of whom hereafter. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION, S3 From what I know of Mr. Bentham, I have no doubt of his being an atheist. I have been told so, by those who know him ; a good many of his more youthful followers are so : if they themselves may be credited ; and though we had never had any conversa- tion together that satisfied me, still, as I have said be- fore. I have no doubt of his being an atheist. And I mention this here, that I may not be charged with blindness to what I look upon as not only the greatest, but as the only great error of that man's faith. Not that he believes there is no God I do not say so : but he is not thoroughly satisfied I believe, that there is a God. If he would enquire, and it is not even yet too late, he would perceive what he must delight in hop- ing, even if it were not proved, the existence of One who is emphatically the Father of such men as he is. Peradventure, it is not so much atheism after all, as it is a mistake with him. He mistakes the uncertain- ty of one fact, or rather a want of mathematical cer- tainty in one fact, for the certainty of another fact : the want of such kind of mathematical proof as he is habituated to, that there is a God, for conclusive demonstration that there is not. I know well the nature of his mind ; and I do not scruple to say that I believe this. Not being satisfied as other men are, and not being at leisure in his old age, and just on the shadowy and shifting threshold of another world, to investigate the subject in his own way ; and be- ing imbued with the pestiferous, and most unrea- sonable doubts of a Frenchman, who was a believer in Voltaire, and the first teacher of Mr. Bentham ; and withal having translated Le Taureau Blanc of Voltaire, without acknowledging it, nor does he know to this day, probably, that he was ever sus- pected of it ; and having produced the work on Na- tural Religion, above-mentioned, which was edited by one atheist, and published by another, (the infa- 5 34 JEREMY BENTHAM. mous Richard Carlisle (17 ), it cannot be expected of him that he should now enquire very diligently or wisely, nor that his disciples, whatever he might do or say now, would be satisfied. We may be sorry for such things, but if they are otherwise good men, our sorrow will lead us rather to pity than to rage or hatred for them. As well might we rebuke those who are troubled with fever, as them that require to be convinced by touch, or taste, or ciphering, of the existence of a Deity. Why may not men be suffered to believe what they please, or what they can rather, about God and a future state, and all the mysteries of theology, as about any other subject of dispute or en- quiry. We do not quarrel with men now about their belief touching wizards, or the motion of the planets, or the origin of the blacks. Why should we, about their belief respecting their Father above ? What I say, I believe. I am no atheist if I were, I should avow it in the face of heaven and earth, and abide the consequences. But to return to the catalogue. Then appeared Not PAUL BUT JESUS, a book in 400 octavo pages, with tables, sustaining a comparison of the gospels with Paul's epistles, for the purpose of showing that " Two quite different, if not opposite religions are inculcated" thereby: that "in the reli- gion of Jesus may be found all the good that has ever been the result of the compound so incongruously and unhappily made, in the religion of Paul, all the mis- chief, which, in such disastrous abundance, has so in- disputably flowed from it." 1823. This work appear- ed under the name of Gamaliel Smith, Esq., and was edited by a secretary of the author, a very young man. To the preceding may now be added : The OUTLINES OF A NEW SYSTEM OF LOGIC, pub- (17) I do not call Richard Carlisle infamous because he is an atheist, but because he has no charity, no decency for those who are not, and because I do not know another so blind or so desperate a mischief-maker. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 35 lished in 1826, 8vo. pp. 287; from the MS. of the author, by his nephew Mr. George Bentham : A REVIEW OF HUMPHREYS ON REAL PROPERTY, in the Westminster Review^No. XII. p. 63, in the unaltered language of the author : THE CONSTITUTIONAL CODE : a magnificent work, only a part of which has been printed; being the whole of what every thing else heretofore published by the author has been but a part: The RATIONALE OF EVIDENCE, in five vols. large octavo, containing nearly 4000 pages, edited by Mr. John Mill, and reviewed in the Edinburgh Review, No. XCVI. PETITIONS FOR JUSTICE AND CODIFICATION : a work in 8vo. just published, and written with a view to engage the people and the ministry to work together. It promises to succeed ; for the whole empire is now agitated to its foundation, and the government full of zeal on the subject. Simultaneously with the above, a considerable num- ber of works have appeared in French, selected by M. Dumont of Geneva from a vast accumulation of manuscripts by Mr. Bentham; a small part of which (Theorie des Feints et des Recompenses) were actu ally written by the author in that language, and for the oddest of all reasons in the view of an ordinary writer. He could not find words in English, where- with to express himself clearly and unequivocally ; and as he knew that from the imperfection of language it never could be otherwise while he lived, and while the very elements of the new science, the very tools thereof, had no name; he concluded to write as he would talk in a foreign language, and leave for others to make what they could of it hereafter. He was overburdened with vast ideas ; but they were not to be communicated in the every-day language of ordinary men. He had no time to contrive a new language ; and therefore he had recourse to one, 36 JEREMY BENTHAM. which, though he was well acquainted with it, he was not so severe a critic of, as to be troubled with meta- physical misgivings in every paragraph he formed, as he was while employed with English. This very reason I give out of his own mouth. After some years, a clever Frenchman, who had been for a while an associate of Mirabeau, and who (as I have been told by Mr. Gallatin, the townsman of both) used to write the very speeches that Mira- beau delivered, came to England, where he got acquainted with Mr. Bentham. These manuscripts, partly in French, and partly in English, were thrown into his hands ; and out of them he has extracted about ten large volumes of readable matter, which but for him would never have been popular. Thus much may be admitted, though M. Dumont himself says, and so indeed must every body, who is well acquainted with the character of the two the one a severe and imperturbable thinker, the other a mere rhetorician, though a beautiful and striking wri- ter, that instead of improving Bentham, he has only preserved a portion of his unwieldy greatness arrang- ed a part of his neglected wealth but added nothing to what he found lying in the ore absolutely no- thing. Be it so ; but his merit is only secondary nevertheless, to that of the original author. He has coined that earth, which but for him would have been overlooked for ages, it may be forever; he has put into circulation, with a stamp that makes it current throughout the world, that ore, which, whatever were its value in fact, might as well have remained forever in the bowels of the earth, as be where he found it and freighted himself with it for the posterity of na- tions. But I would not go so far as many do; I should not say that M. Dumont has added to the worth of the solid, weighty, and vast original; for M. Dumont, as I have said before, though a beautiful writer, is vague, insecure, and showy, after the ap- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 37 proved manner of Montesquieu, whose lively and bril- liant affectation passes with the multitude for the sententiousness of a deep-thinker. All that we are indebted to him is, for having made his author more palatable and more popular; now by judiciously abridg- ing, and now by omitting passages and parts, which they who know the strength and significance of Bent- ham, would no more part with or give up, than they would part with or give up the brains of a favourite author. Most of the writings of Jeremy Bentham which have appeared since M. Dumont published the selec- tions alluded to above, are distinguished for strength and simplicity, though not so much for beauty or perspicuity of style, as were his earlier works ; yet any one of them would be enough to show that Jere- my Bentham, and not M. Dumont, is the author of eve- ry profound and extraordinary thought in the whole of the ten volumes edited by M. Dumont ; and not only that, but the very form and felicity of expression, wherever it is remarkable for energy or directness, for grasp or comprehensiveness. I would not even except the review of Mr. Humphreys by Bentham in the Westminster Review, a paper which, though it contains more of the author's peculiarities, and more of that new language he is twitted with being the father of (Bcnthamee) than any thing else to be found in any of his works, I would appeal to, if there were nothing else at hand, to show the amplitude, the elevation, the depth of the writer's mind. Allow what we may for the gossip, and the trifling, and the strange words, and the affected phraseology, as it would appear to a reader of story-books or newspa- pers, there would still be enough left to prove that the author was a great man. Let me be distinctly un- derstood therefore. We are largely indebted to M. Dumont; not for improving Bentham however, but for making him popular with those who might never 38 JEREMY BEM'HAM. have read him, nor understood him in his original gothic redundancy, severity and strength to say all in a single word, for having Frenchified him. The following are the works referred to, by M. Du- mont, second and third editions of which have lately been published at Paris. 1. TRAITES DE LEGISLATION Civile et Penale, pre- cedes de Principes Generaux de Legislation, et d'une Vue d'un Corps complet de Droits; termines par un Essai sur ('Influence des terns et des lieux relative- ment aux lois. Paris, 1802. 3 tomes. 2. THEORIE DES PEINES ET DES RECOMPENSES. Londres, 1811. 2 tomes. 3. ESSAI SUR LA TACTIQUE DES ASSEMBLEES POLI- TIQUES. Geneve, 1816: ensemble, sur les Sophismes. 4. TRAITES DES PREUVES JUDICIAIRES. Paris, 1823. 2 tomes. But to conclude this part of our subject. As Mr. Bentham grew older, he grew more and more dissatis- fied with the inadequacy of language, with the want of exactness in it ; and he therefore began to prepare a new system of logic for himself a few chapters of which have lately been booked into a readable shape by his nephew, Mr. George Bentham, one of the most promising men of the age, both for acuteness and for strength. From this he went on, growing less and less elegant, and to the careless reader, the novel-reader, or the newspaper-reader, less and less perspicuous every year ; for he went on abridging volumes into chapters, and chapters into tabular views, till it was impossible for any body to under- stand him, who had not gone step by step through his preliminary demonstrations ; till at last he came to a style, which cannot be defended such as that of the article he wrote for the Westminster Review. And yet, though all this may be said of that particular pa- per, it is due to him and to the public to add, that as he has grown older he has grown wiser; that the style FRINriPl.KS OF LKCIISLATION. 39 referred to grows out of his exceeding honesty, for he does not allow himself to separate his assertions from their qualifications so that his periods are en- cumbered on every subject of interest; that in ordi- nary matters where a newspaper style would do, no man alive writes a more off-hand, free or natural style than Jeremy Bentham; and that after all the very difficulties we complain of, are attributable more to the subject handled by him, than to the style in which they are handled; more to the nature of the science treated of, than to any thing else ; and that for peo- ple who are not acquainted with his early works, to complain of all his late works for not being clear, is about as absurd as it would be for a man who had never studied his multiplication table, to find fault with a treatise on fluxions for not being as intelligi- ble, straight-forward and agreeable as a newspaper- essay upon the private character of a political adver- sary. (18) (18) A friend, whose suggestions are always entitled to much respect, on seeing the above paragraph, sent the author a note, which, as it clearly express- es what a majority of readers may think, and is therefore worthy of some re- ply, he has thought proper to publish below, with his reasons for not yielding to the suggestion. NOTE. Bear in mind that you are writing, not alone for those who ad- mire Bentham and who acknowledge his worth, but for the American public, who know him scarcely by name. Moderate and sensible men will smile at your enthusiasm, the incredulous and sarcastic will laugh outright: This is a matter of little consequence in itself but it may lessen the reader's confidence in other and more important portions of the memoir. Did you quote passages remarkable for depth as well as obscurity, and clear them up to the satisfaction of those who read, your panegyric would still appear somewhat inflated. Man is an estimable being, so far as he procures happiness for himself and for his fellow-men An individual may be well skilled in the arts, he may be pro- foundly learned, he may foretel at a glance the destiny of nations yet should his hands and feet be tied, and his" mouth hermetically sealed, he might as well be a simpleton as a wise man, so far as he may benefit others. Now I think of it, you have made an acknowledgment to the same effect a page or two back. Had Bentham mixed more with those about him, and acted and talked like other men, and studied to convey his wonderful conceptions in familiar lan- guage, how much better had it been for the world, and for his own reputation, than to see them ground over, diluted, and served up by a French cook. REPLY. What is said of Jeremy Bentham throughout this work, the author, who has had the best opportunities for judging, believes he might say knows to be true. Believing thus, and having said it seriously, he cannot consent to qualify the language, for no better reason than because it may appear ex- 40 JEREMY BENTHAM. And now, before we go to the familiar facts, where- by every reader may be acquainted with Jeremy Bent- ham, as men are with men, it were well to know whether he regards the knowledge he is about to have, as worth having ; whether he is prepared to believe, that laying the foundations of an immutable science, that going forth to the four quarters of the earth as a benefactor and a legislator, thinking no- thing too small for notice which may concern the happiness of the great human family, nothing too weighty nor too large to be grappled with, if it af- fected their welfare either now or hereafter, are do- ings of not much importance in the pathway of cen- turies. If so, he had better proceed no further. travagant to those " who know Bentham scarcely by name," and to whom therefore any thing like the truth would appear extravagant; or because it may serve to disparage the general character of a work with those who are too in- dolent for enquiry, or presumptuous enough to believe that nobody can begreat in any way without their knowledge. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 41 CHAPTER III. FAMILIAR ANECDOTES OF MR. BENTHAM. First acquaintance with his Works Utilitarians First Interview Milton's House The Dinner Mr. Adams Resemblance to Dr. Franklin Mr. B. Peculiarities of Dress, Diet, Language, &c. I HOPE to be pardoned for alluding to myself here ; but if the reader wishes to know Mr. Bentham as I do, he must follow me step by step. My acquaint- ance with the writings of the philosopher began about twelve years ago. I was then a student at law in Baltimore, Maryland. Mr. Hoffman, the professor of law in the university there, having published a " Course of Legal Study," and having,with a liberality for which I can never be too grateful, offered me the advantage of his library, one of the largest and best in our country, I determined after full consideration of the difficulties in my path, to pursue that "Course," not- withstanding I had entered with the late distinguish- ed Mr. Winder. While pursuing it, which I did, whenever it was possible to find the books mentioned, it became necessary to read three different works by Mr. Bentham: his Theorie des Peines et des Re- compenses, par M. Dumont, in French; his Defence of Usury, the very title of which was enough to cap- tivate me ; and his great English work in quarto, on Morals and Legislation. Of the first, Mr. Hoffman spoke thus; and in all that he said, he was corrobo- rated by Mr. Pierpont the preacher, to whom I was indebted even for the book of Mr. Hoffman, " It is a matter of no less surprise than regret, that a work of such extraordinary merit should thus long have re- mained unknown, not only to the students but to the (5 42 JEREMY BENTHAM. learned of our country." I would observe here, by the by, that precisely the same remark might be made of every other work by the same author. But Mr. Hoffman proceeds " Five years have elapsed since the publication of this book, yet it is to be found in no public or private library with which we are ac- quainted ; and most of the booksellers, and many of the literati, have never heard of it." How true ! and how disgraceful to our age ! 1 do not say to our coun- try; for it was the same, five years ago in the country of the author. Not being very easy with French at the time, and perceiving at the end of the work, which was printed at London, that a translation was about to appear, I desired a bookseller to import a copy for me, in Eng- lish if possible, if not in French. Neither could be had; the work was not known there. I tried again; but with no better success, nor could I even find out whether Mr. Bentham was a native or not of Eng- land. One great work had just appeared in English, to be sure; but another had just appeared in French, and was to be translated into English. Of course therefore I concluded that the original was in French; and as no philosophical writer, no such close and pow- erful reasoner certainly as the author before me, would write in any other than his native language, that he was therefore a Frenchman. And this was all I knew, or any body else of whom I enquired, till many years had gone by. At last, on hearing Mr. Hoffman express a desire that somebody would undertake to render the two volumes referred to, into English, I told him I would do it, if I could find a publisher. He thought there would be no difficulty in the way, and even spoke of publishing it himself; but to this I would not consent; for apart from the apathy of the public, I believed that a pub- lisher not in the trade might lose by a work, which a publisher in the trade might make money by. I there- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 43 fore wrote to Mr. Riley of New- York, then regarded as one of the largest and most enterprising of our law- publishers, and offered to translate the two volumes oc- tavo, one of which contained somewhat over four hun- dred pages, the other somewhat less, and to add notes on English law, and the criminal jurisprudence of our country, which might be referred to the judgment of any good lawyer ; and to do this for three hundred dol- lars, one half payable in law-books ; the work to be ready for the press in three months at furthest. But he was afraid to undertake it, alleging that nobody knew Mr. Bentham. And here the matter rested, for I knew as little of him as others did, until the year 1825, when we were accidentally thrown together in his native country. I have mentioned these things mere- ly to show, that the reverence I feel for the labours of Jeremy Bentham, is not the sudden growth of partial- ity, nor the effect of what I may be allowed to speak of here as the friendship of that extraordinary man. But, although I would have crossed the Atlantic, as I have said before, to enjoy his company for a sin- gle evening, had I been able to afford it ; still, after I had crossed the Atlantic nay after I had arrived in the very neighbourhood of his house, I could not find a person that knew him, or had ever seen him ; and I was there above a twelvemonth, before I knew where he lived, though his habitation was hardly a pistol-shot from my own lodgings, in Warwick-street, Pall-Mail. At last, however, when I had given up all idea of ever seeing the man, for I knew several na- tive Englishmen of high character, who had been try- ing for years to find the way to his door, as they acknowledged without scruple, we were brought together by the merest accident in the world ; and I remained with him so long, and knew him so inti- mately, that perhaps it would not be too much to say probably no person alive knows more of the true character of Jeremy Bentham than I do. Mr. 44 JEREMY BENTHAM. Bowring, and Mr. Mill, the author of British-India, may have known him longer ; but never more inti- mately. They have seen him at intervals of a week or a month, year after year; but I have been with him every day for about eighteen months, and spent almost every evening with him, from six o'clock, the dinner-hour, till about eleven or twelve at night, for the whole of that time. I have seen him through all his changes therefore; and I believe that I know him thoroughly and completely. On Friday evening, Oct. 22d, 1825 I have the very day before me, I was invited to meet with the Utilitarians at his house, for debate, a body of youth- ful conspirators against government, order and mo- rality, the fine arts, and all the charities and sympa- thies and elegancies of life, you would suppose, were you to judge of all by two or three ; or even by what is said- of all, by those who occupy the high-places in the commonwealth of literature. This formidable band however consisted of but seven persons, most of them young men, mere boys in age and experience, and the others below the middle age. They were all, without one exception I believe, atheists fixed and irretrievable atheists in their own opinion, though of the whole, no one had ever read much, or thought much, or written much, even for a youth. Nor were they otherwise remarkable. As debaters, they were unspeakably wretched; as writers, they were nearly as bad, with one or two exceptions; but they were good reasoners ; and one of their number was certainly the closest and clearest I ever knew under the age of thir- ty-five. Yet he was hardly eighteen I believe; cer- tainly not over nineteen. They had a young gentle- man to preside, of whom all that I can remember is, that he had very black hair, very bright eyes, and ve- ry large teeth ; that he was clever, but saucy, and a great lover of paradox. After the business of the so- ciety was over, young Mr. Mill, the editor of Mr. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 45 Bentham's Rationale of Evidence, then going through the press, read a portion of the manuscript, with two or three of his own notes, which were certainly very surprising for such a youth. Having already learnt to prefer crude Benthamism to prepared Bentham- ism, I detected the original of much that Mr. Mill the father had furnished for the supplement to the Encyclopedia Britannica here. We had almost the whole of his renowned essay on Jurisprudence, in a colloquial form. After this, they had what they call- ed a debate and such a debate ! No wonder the Uti- litarians are at daggers drawn with oratory. Of the leaders, not one was ever able to express himself, with power and beauty, even about his own faith ; not one converses well, not one is there that speaks with ener- gy, clearness and fluency, at the same time, nor one that may ever hope, under any circumstances, to be distin- guished as a speaker. I know them all; and 1 know what I say to be true. Mr. Bentham is very unhappy in conversation, the moment he leaves preaching and begins to argue ; and Mr. Mill, the father, never at- tempted a speech but once they say, and then he failed so utterly and so hopelessly that he has been at war with oratory ever since. (19) However, as I (19) It is laughable enough to see how near the truth guess-work may go. The Rev. Sydney Smith, who wrote the paper for the Edinburgh Review, from which the following is extracted, never knew, never could know, either by enquiry or by reading, that what he says here is true. And yet, although not exactly the truth, it is very near the truth, so far as the narrow-mindedness of the sect is concerned. " We have been" says the Edinburgh Review, No. XCVII. p. 160, " for some time past inclined to suspect that these people (the Utilitarians), whom some regard as the lights of the world, and others as incarnate demons, are in general ordinary men, with narrow understandings, and little information. The contempt which they express for elegant literature, is evidently the contempt of ignorance. We apprehend that many of them are persons who, having read little or nothing, are delighted to be rescued from the sense of their own inferiority by some teacher, who assures them that the studies which they have neglected are of no value, puts five or six phrases into their mouths, lends them an odd number of the Westminster Review, and in a month transforms them into philosophers. Mingled with these smatterers, whose attainments just suf- fice to elevate them from the insignificance of dunces to the dignity of bores, and to spread dismay among their pious aunts and grandmothers, there are, we well know, many well-meaning men, who have really read and thought much; 46 JEREMY BENTHAM. have said before, they are almost to a man powerful and acute reasoners, though addicted to questioning the most obvious truth when it stands in their way. This evening the subject was the poor-laws, and the policy of their introduction into Ireland. It was opened by a Mr. P., a good-natured, large, agreeable man, who like two others in this society of seven, was afflicted with an impediment of speech, and used to stop and breathe between every two or three words. No wonder they sneer at oratory! He was replied to by young Mill, in a very modest, firm, unprepared speech. The reasoning and the language of Mr. M. were both good, though he appeared somewhat anx- ious; and a part of his pronunciation was that of the north country waound,raound, fec.,for wound, round, fee. He was followed by another, who got up with but whose reading and meditation have been almost exclusively confined to one class of subjects; and who, consequently, though they possess much valuable knowledge respecting those subjects, are by no means so well qualified to judge of a great system as if they had taken a more enlarged view of literature and society. Nothing is more amusing or instructive than to observe the manner in which people, who think themselves wiser than all the rest of the world, fall into snares which the simple good sense of their neighbours detects and avoids. It is one of the principal tenets of the Utilitarians, that sentiment and eloquence serve only to impede the pursuit of truth. They therefore affect a quakerly plainness, or rather a cynical negligence and impurity of style. The strongest arguments, when clothed in brilliant language, seem to them so much wordy nonsense. In the mean time they surrender their understandings, with a facility found in no other party, to the meanest and most abject sophisms, provided those sophisms come before them disguised with the externals of demonstration. They do not seem to know that logic has its illusions as well as rhetoric, that a fallacy may lurk in a syllogism as well as in a metaphor. Mr. Mill is exactly the writer to please people of this description. His ar- guments are stated with the utmost affectation of precision; his divisions are awfully formal; and his style is generally as dry as that of Euclid's Elements." ******** " As to the greater part of this sect, [Edinburgh Review, No. XCVII, p. 189] it is, we apprehend, of little consequence, what they study, or under whom. It would be more amusing, to be sure, and more reputable, if they would take up the old republican cant, and declaim about Brutus and Timoleon, the duty of killing tyrants, and the blessedness of dying for liberty. But, on the whole, they might have chosen worse. They may as well be Utilitarians as jockeys or dandies. And though quibbling about self-interest and motives, and objects of desire, and the greatest happiness of the greatest number, is but a poor employment for a grown man, it certainly hurts the health less than hard-drink- ing, and the fortune less than high play: it is not much more laughable than phrenology, and is immeasurably more humane than cock-fighting." PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 47 a sort of fling, and began with a loud, free voice, which died away after a moment or two; when he lost himself entirely, having said this and this only : Sir, I rise to make a few observations, and but a few. My opinion is decided, and very decided. Here he began to talk lower and lower, and soon ran himself out, courage, waggery and all. After this brief sketch of the Utilitarians I saw gathered together at the hermitage of Mr. Bentham, in Queen-Square Place, and whom by the way it was my lot to oppose, whenever they touched upon theo- logy, the reader will be prepared to feel as I did, when at the end of another week, as I was sitting by myself in my landlady's little parlor, a young man, whom I knew for the private secretary of Mr. Bent- ham, and whom I supposed to be one of the two keepers mentioned by the trust-worthy Parry, enter- ed the room, and after interchanging a word or two about the weather, dropped his voice, and communi- cated a verbal invitation to me from Jeremy Bent- ham, as if it were the pass-word for something, which it were a matter of life and death for anybody to over- hear. So I was to dine with the philosopher ; and the day fixed upon was the 2d of Nov. (1825); the hour six. But query, said I to myself, as the day drew near must I go punctually or not? If I go punctually, who knows but I may be charged with af- fectation or ignorance ; a disregard or a want of ac- quaintance with the usages of the country, not to be pardoned. I knew very well that " fashion's six is half-past-six or seven," just as " not at home" is, I have no time to throw away on you. But then the philosopher they say, is not a man to be trifled with : he is moreover somewhat whimsical, and he cares no- thing about fashion. Perhaps, therefore, if 1 do not arrive punctually, I may be reproached for my want of a republican virtue, and put off without my dinner. This determined me, and I started in good season ; 48 JEREMY BENTHAM. but owing to the difficulty of finding the way with- out a guide through Queen-Square Place, the secretary had been obliging enough to say that he would leave the iron gate open for me, which enters on the park. (20) The gate I missed ; and I did not arrive therefore till a quarter after the time. But after I had arriv- ed, there seemed to be little or no prospect of my see- ing the interior. I could find nothing that resem- bled what in our country is denominated a front-door nothing in the shape or size of a principal en- trance. A door I saw, and I marched up to it ; but there was no knocker, and after feeling about in the dark awhile, I discovered the steps, and circum-navi- gated the whole premises, including the coach-house and a part occupied by Mr. Coulson, editor of the Globe. At last I found myself just ,where I started from. So, for the want of anything better, I began to pound away at the door with my knuckles. After a minute or two spent in this way, the door opened, and the secretary appeared in a room on the left of the passage-way, seated at a piano as vile a thing, by the by, as I ever saw, though he had a decided taste for music, and played the organ with a master- ly touch for an amateur. We entered into conversa- tion immediately, and were beginning to understand each other, when I stopped to listen to a cheerful trembling voice that appeared to be approaching. The next moment I heard my name pronounced, and somebody talking very fast and not very intelligibly at the door, w r hich opened with a nervous hurried shake, and a middling-sized, fresh-looking old man, with very white hair, a good-humoured, though strong- (20) A friend here puts the following question. Why all this trouble in finding the place, when you had heen debating with a club of Utilitarians at his house since October 22. See page 44. Answer. Simply because such is the fact. I had never been at Queen-Square Place but once before, and that was in the evening, by another route, and with a guide. On this occasion I took my way through the park, being so advised by one who knew, that even by day it would be exceedingly difficult for any- body to find the house a second time through Queen-Square Place. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 49 ly-marked face, a true quaker-coat, and a stoop in his gait, entered and began talking to me as if we had known each other for years. A a welcome to the hermitage I can't see here (turning away from the light) a a there's my hand a a we must form a a I've heard of you a a anti- holy alliance together. I made the best reply in my power, delighted with his cordial strange way, though sorely puzzled to make out what he said. " Just time enough to look at my garden a a " clapping on a large straw hat as he spoke, with a green ribbon to it (the reader will not forget the season of the year), and grasping a cane. I thought of Parry here, the veracious Parry ; but on the whole, as it was very dark, 1 did not feel much afraid of being mis- taken for the keeper of a gray-haired lunatic. Yet I was half afraid to offer my aim at first ; and when I did, he threw it aside with a laugh, and I began to prepare for a trot, as described by that facetious gen- tleman, up one street and down another. Away we went as fast as we could go, he keeping a little ahead, and talking away as fast as ever, though with a slight hesitation of speech, hardly perceptible at first. N. B. He is the founder of the Utilitarian school of oratory. This way, this way, said he, as we drew near another part of his large garden, this way now, taking my arm as he spoke ; I'll show you this is classical ground a a much to classicalize it. I had no time to bow, nor would he have seen me if I had. Rush (21) was here, a a down on your marrow-bones, a a I gave him a piece of the balustrade of Milton's house a a there it is (pointing to the back side of a two-story brick house) that belongs to me a a large garden the largest here that looks upon the park, except the royal-gardens a a now it is din- ner time. (21) Rush, our late Minister to England. 7 50 JEREMY BENTHAM. This over, he led me up to what he called his work-shop ; a small crowded room, with a false floor occupying two-thirds of it ; a sort of raised platform, with a table on it, just large enough for himself, his two secretaries, and one guest he never had more. I had what he called the seat of honour, opposite the sage, with Mr. Secretary Doane at my right, and the other at my left. I had been told, I know not how many queer stories about the household economy of the philosopher ; but they were all very far from the truth. He began with removing a cover -judge of my amazement to see one potato in the dish, and but one. It was large and mealy, to be sure ; but hardly a mouthful for a hungry man, who had long passed his regular dinner-hour. But while I was won- dering at the simplicity and straight-forwardness of the philosopher, who fell upon the potato, broke it up, and began pealing it with his fingers, a turreen of ca- pital soup was served ; and I was directed to a bottle of Burgundy that stood on my right, and a bottle of Madeira on my left, which, as the philosopher himself never tasted wine, were probably intended for his two secretaries and myself. To the soup succeeded oys- ter-patties, a very savoury dish under the manage- ment of his cook. Then we had plum-pudding, apple- pie, and beef; and while he ate of the two former as a first course (22), such being the fashion of his youth, we were served with the beef; and while we partook of the plum-pudding and apple-pie, he took beef, as we say here. I mention the courses, and the very dishes, and the order in which they appeared, thus particularly, because of the strange stories that are abroad on the subject, all of which are not only un- true, but ridiculously untrue. He talked a good deal after the heavy work of the dinner was through ; and his conversation was delightful, not so much (22) As the old-fashioned of our country still do. You know the law reader he that eats most pudding shall have most meat. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 51 on account of the subject or the language, though the former was full of interest, and the latter good enough to satisfy me, as on account of the general, unaffected pleasantry of his manner, with here a dash of good-natured sarcasm, and there a sprinkle of downright roguishness. I should not say of Mr. Bentham that he had much of the manner of the old school, or any thing of a high-bred air ; but he had what I cannot help revering and loving much more, a playful and easy mariner, like that of one who is tired of being upon his good behaviour, and is glad to let a stranger see the inside of that which all but a very few are only permitted to judge of by the outside his real character. As soon as the two secretaries had retired, which was immediately after dinner, he spoke freely of him- self, his works, and his followers or disciples. Mr. Mill, the father, he said, was his disciple, Ricardo, Mill's. Ricardo therefore was his grand-disciple. I am trying now, and I shall hereafter try, in every si- milar case, to present not only the ideas, but the very language of Mr. Bentham after dinner. Speaking of Mr. Adams, our late President of the United States, he observed that Mr. A. once avowed himself to be, sitting in that very chair, a Platonic Trinitarian. A Platonic Trinitarian ! said I ; upon my word, Sir, I should like to know what he meant. I should not, said he, with a smile ; as if he did not much care. This penitentiary plan, he said, while speaking of ours in the United States, concerning which he made many particular and earnest enquiries, the answers to which he frequently interrupted with, Good God, only think of that! Lord God, (23) only think of that! would have been adopted thirty years before ; but he offend^- (23) Says the friend before referred to ' You quote Bentham as saying, Good God, Lord God, &c. in the same line. As you may have omitted much that is beautiful in his conversation, as it regards peculiarity of expres- sion, is it fair to give vulgarities or puerilities ?' Ans. These are not puerili- ties they are characteristic peculiarities. They are a part of his natural lan- guage ; aud therefore do I give them, and for nothing else. 52 JEREMY BENTHAM. ed the king, who answered one of his papers, about Sweden, I believe, by maintaining that a certain course of policy adopted by the British government was designed to check the power of Russia. At first he could not believe that the reply was actually written by the late George but became afterwards satisfied of the fact, on the authority, if I do not mistake, of Lord Shelburne (24). It was undoubtedly true that his majesty did occasionally write for the paper in which the reply appeared ; and that he also wrote on agriculture, in Arthur Young's celebrated work, under the signature of Robinson (25). Nearly three hours had now been passed at the table, in uninter- rupted conversation, when tea appeared, which he (24) Under the Rockingham Adminstration, formed in 17S7, Mr. Fox and Lord Shelburne were the principal Secretaries of State. In 1781 the Frag- ment on Government, by Mr. Bentham, brought the Earl of Shelburne to visit him at a garret in Lincoln's Inn a very considerable intimacy and friend- ship followed. The Earl was Judge Blackstone's patron a breach follow- ed between these two after the Fragment appeared. (25) I have before me now a note in manuscript sent years ago, by Jeremy Bentham to Sir Francis Burdett, for the purpose of engaging him in the sup- port of a Bill for the erection of a new prison at Tothill-fields. The writer had prepared it, with a view to the celebrated PANOPTICON. " You know, or you do not know," said Bentham, " that Pitt the second, and Lord Melville the first, were approvers ; Pitt with as much warmth as he was capable of, Melville with parliamentary publicity and privately-declared enthusiasm, of my brother's invention,* as therein displayed, and the application made by me of it ; and that on that ground in the first place all prisoners, and in the next place all paupers, as they and lloset gave me to understand, were intended by them to have been put into my hands Pitt and Rose having the magnani- mity to give up their already-particularized pauper-scheme, after perusal of the public exposure I had made of it : that the faith of Parliament was by pledged to the prison part of the scheme, and land at Mill-Bank:): half a mile in length, put into my possession in consequence, and that for a term of years (I do not at this moment recollect how many) more than the seige of Troy lasted. Pitt persevered against the veto, opposed by George the Third, whose unassuageable hatred I had provoked by the part taken by me on the occasion of the French revolution, in and by my work on the Judiciary Establishment 179091, and a little before that, by my opposition to an unprovoked war, endeavoured at by him against Catharine II. in support of another provoked war he had induced Gustavus of Sweden to make for her, by which two wars, or rumours of wars, was produced a newspaper-war on the same ground, be- tween his said most sacred and anointed Majesty, who fought in person, and your unanointed humble servant." * Alluding here to the Panopticon, as first designed for a manufactory, by General Sir Samuel Bentham. t George Rose. j Where the Penitentiary now is a dead failure. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 53 accompanied with a remark that he loved to get drunk three times a day on tea and coffee : for what was drunkenness but intemperate exhilaration ? Black tea he was very fond of; he drank it in large quantities. But green was bad for him ; he had used it altogether once, but after overcoming his aversion to black, the green used to give him a severe pain if he touched it. After this, he spoke of Thompson's Wealth, a work published a little time before, by a perverse and whimsical though somewhat clever Irishman, who being invited for a few days to Queen- Square Place, actually seated himself there and made it his home for months, al- though after a few days he never saw the master, even to eat with him ; but was furnished with a sepa- rate table. I staid till half-past ten, by particular and repeated invitation, to see him put on his night- cap, while he talked about our Franklin, evidently very much gratified by my recognition of the great resemblance they bore to each other ; and gave me the history of a bust, which, though it was made for Franklin at Paris, by an eminent sculptor, and was an admitted likeness by every body that knew the ori- ginal, had been bought by Ricardo for Mill, and sent to him, as a likeness of Bentham. Before we parted, however, he grew inquisitive about other of our dis- tinguished countrymen, and particularly about Mr. B , of whose talents he thought very highly, though he shuddered when he spoke of his principles. The way he came to know Mr. B. was this he heard from his publisher that an American, who lived in obscurity, and appeared to be a superior man, had given him a general order for a copy of every thing, whatever it was, of which Mr. Bentham was the author. Subsequent enquiries led to a fur- ther knowledge of Mr. B., who was invited to Queen- Square Place, and remained there for a considerable time, as well as at Mr. Bentham's country-house. And here I might stop, and I should stop, in my ac- 54 JEREMY BENTHAM. count of what he said of that powerful, bad man, who, but for an accident alike disastrous and happy, might have been at this hour, the despotic ruler of a part of our country, were I not afraid that what he said to Mr. Bentham, he may have said to others, and that therefore unless contradicted when alive, it may soon be too late to confront him with the accuser, even though he should desire it for the re- putation of our country. I observed that Mr. Bent- ham directed his enquiries to one particular point which diverted me at first, and then startled me. He desired to know whether Mr. B. had the reputation of being wonderfully fortunate with women of cha- racter ; and when I replied in the negative, and asked him why, he smiled and spoke as if that impression had been laboured into him by the exile, who boasted of having intrigued with several of our first women, and even went so far as to say positively that the wife of one of our presidents had been his mistress before marriage. I was thunderstruck at the horri- ble audacity of the man for not content with this, he had mentioned her name. I told Mr. Bentham without scruple that the whole story was utterly and ' abominably false, that I knew her by reputation, and that the bare possibility of such a thing, the bare suspicion of its truth, would not only exclude a wo- man here from good society, but her husband, what- ever were the worth of his character, from every high office of the country. Are such things to be circu- lated throughout Europe, for twenty years, without re- proof or contradiction, because forsooth, they are only repeated at the dinner-table ? I say no. Are we to be satisfied with speech, when there is more virtue in writing ? I say no. And I rejoice in the opportunity now afforded me of contradicting it, with deliberation and solemnity here, as I contradicted it there in the hurry and storm of outraged feeling. Nor should I stop here the man who but lives now by the tolera- tion of a despised law, not satisfied with calumniating PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 55 the first and fairest of our whole country, had the courage to tell another, who knew little or nothing of his true history, that he had killed his adversary in a duel, because he had threatened to do so not long before, that he meant to put him to death when he took the field, and that he gloried in the result. By his own account of the affair, said Mr. Bentham, I thought he must be a cold-blooded and atrocious ruf- fian. I might refer also to the proposition made by Mr. B. a father touching the daughter he sent for, and who was not long afterwards I believe lost at sea ; but I forbear. And now let me finish this account of our first inter- view. The greatest oddities I saw in our philosopher were these: he had potatoes, apple-pie and tomatos, all on his plate at the same time, a habit with which our people are reproached by every English traveller that we see ; he wore a striped calico waistcoat ; he rub- bed and scratched continually after dinner, being troubled with a cutaneous disease, of which he is now cured ; and used for a spit-box, even at the ta- ble, and every few minutes after the cloth was re- moved an article which I never saw in use before out of a bed-chamber ; and what was yet more ex- traordinary, he always lifted it up so that I could not help seeing the edge and form whenever he used it. He ate with a good relish, and heartily enough; and though nearer 79 than 78, to borrow his own lan- guage, conversed with unabated pleasure, and proba- bly with unabated vigour; for there is nothing in the best of his works superior to a few accidents of his conversation after he had swallowed his tea. When we parted, he engaged me for the following Wednes- day; and thus every week, he did so for every suc- cessive Wednesday, till I became an established in- mate of Q. S. P. 56 JEREMY BENTHAM. CHAPTER IV. Bentham's Reminiscences Garrick in Abel Drugger Effect of old age Parry the Panopticon His Theory of Punishments and Rewards Style Work on Evidence Father His first attempt in the Law Dumont Rough Language Summer Dress Fear of Ghosts Origin of Bentham His Father Sleeps standing Avowal Butler Col. Young Writing Music Phre- nology Benchers, what ? Domestic Habits Fun of the Secretaries Father Wedderbourne The Musical Society His Grandmother Erskine Step- mother. NOTHING could be more delightful than the vigor- ous, free, and spirited sketches of men and manners which Mr. Bentham threw off, almost without know- ing -it, certainly without effort, in his familiar conver- sation. They were never finished, never laboured- up to be sure; but they were all alive with the touch- es of a master; of one who knew the interior as well as the exterior of what he described. He had seen Garrick in his best character Abel Drugger, and remembered him perfectly. He liked him best in comedy. After knowing more of Mr. Bentham's mind, his good-natured detestation of po- etry, his horror of tragedy, his fondness for the most childish pantomime, and his utter incapability of re- lishing either wit or sublimity, though broad humour, playfulness, and common-sense, never had a more ac- tive, nor better qualified worshipper; I used to smile whenever the recollection of this remark flitted over my memory. Perhaps Garrick never did appear to greater advantage than in Abel Drugger; but there was something so absolutely laughable in the very idea of Mr. Bentham's undertaking to judge of him in the serious drama, which he hated with unquali- fied, unappeasable hatred, that I never can think of it now, without thinking at the same time of the fel- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 57 low that played the cock in Hamlet. Mr. Bentham is a lover of truth, and every thing is judged of by him therefore, according as it approaches or departs from that standard. He once belonged to a club of which Dr. Johnson was a member : and he always regarded him as a nar- row-minded, brutal, bigoted ruffian, who looked upon majesty with the eyes of a country schoolmaster. He knew Hogarth also, and took tea with him has no relish for Wilkie, whenever he thinks of Hogarth and his moral painting. Wilkie's paintings have no moral. Speaking of Lafayette, for whom he appeared to en- tertain the warmest affection, and who was then a subject of general newspaper-remark, he observed that this second father of our country, as our flash- writers call him, would speak beautiful English for an hour together; that he was what he should call a great speaker, and a great man both as a moralist and as a politician ; did not know whether he was intel- lectually great, or profound however. At this, our second interview, he assured me that he could not distinguish between the taste of a phea- sant and that of a mutton-chop ; both were before us at the time he made the remark ; and the pheasant, which to be sure is a tough, insipid, unmanageable bird if cooked too early (26), had been kept till strongly charged with the game-flavour. He acknowledged however that he could perceive a difference in the brevity and conciseness of the flesh, when asked by the (26) How to manage a Pheasant. "Instead of SMS. per col, suspend it by one of the long tail-feathers, and the pheasant's falling from it, is the criterion of its ripeness and readiness for the spit." Kitchner, But another says " that the detachment of the feathers cannot take place until the body has advanced more than one degree beyond the state of whole- some haut-gout, and become trap inortifie ; and that to enjoy the game in perfection, you must have a brace of birds killed the same day ; these are to be put in suspense, as above directed and when one of them drops, the hour is come for the spit to be introduced to the other." Cook's Oracle. " The pheasant should only be eaten when the blood runs from the bill, which is commonly about six or seven days after it has been killed; otherwise it will have no more savour than a common fowl." Ude. 58 JEREMY BENTHAM. secretary on his left, in those very words. But, said I, this may be done by the touch of the teeth ; by feeling therefore instead of taste. He agreed with me. Perhaps a decay of the sense of smell might be the true cause of that inability to distinguish in taste, I added; for it is a well known fact, that people who are fond of cigars, do not know whether a cigar is lighted or not, if you blindfold them and pinch their noses. Good God, only think o' that ! said he, when I assured him that I myself had seen the ex- periment tried more than once, though to be sure I attributed something to the severity of the pinch. As to many kinds of meats, however, it seems proba- ble that we distinguish them altogether by the sense of smell. Strong beer has been received for the best Madeira by a good judge, after the palate was satu- rated with flavour. But Mr. Bentham assured me that he could not even detect the odour of a rose. Not long before, he was haunted with the continual odour of something, he knew not what, which was no otherwise disagreeable than as it was connected in his mind with the idea of imperfection. If he submit- ted a rose to the sense during the period he spoke of, " A smell was active; though not the smell of the rose. It was quite another smell." I watched my opportunity this evening, and alluded to Parry Captain Parry, the authority of the North American Review, for January 1828. Captain Parry Major Parry he calls himself, said Mr. Bentham, with decided emphasis, and a little anger. He lied he dined with me, and went away drunk ; we dined at six, my usual hour, instead of eight or nine. The secre- tary on his right and the secretary on his left, appeared rather blank too, at the mention of Parry. At this interview, Mr. Bentham gave me a copy of the Panopticon : he appeared bitterly aggrieved, outraged, by the disappointment alluded to before, in the failure to establish a Panopticon by the govern- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 59 ment, after they had entered into a contract for the purpose. It would undoubtedly have turned out a mine of wealth to him, and a prodigious pecuniary saving to the British empire, to say nothing of the success of the principal object; a thorough and safe, because gradual reform of the whole system of crimi- nal jurisprudence, throughout Europe and America. He wrote the Theory of Punishments and Rewards, a work prepared with a view to this magnificent ob- ject only, though now studied by all the statesmen of Europe for itself alone, partly in English, partly in French ; was far too scrupulous with regard to style, he thought ; never satisfied with the harmony of a sen- tence, nor with the perspicuity and power of English. And therefore he adopted the French, because in French forsooth, his deficiencies were not so percepti- ble to himself. Many will never understand this ; but they who have gone over and over the same page, sound- ing it aloud as it were in the very depth of their hearts, sentence by sentence, till they are fritted through every fibre with a fever that cannot be soothed ; till they shrink with a diseased nerve, and a childish, though preternatural anxiety, at every jar in the smooth ring- ing of their words, unable to endure the clashing of un-pronouncable consonants, and casting about their language, into every variety of shape, to avoid the union of ds with ds, or ts with ts, or vs with fs, or any two letters of the same or a similar sound with each other, all who have been affected in this way, and who that ever wrote much without indulging in robust and healthy exercise, ever escaped ? will under- stand and pity the nervousness that drove Jeremy Bentham to write in a foreign language. At last, on Saturday, Dec. 17, I removed to the hermitage, with a view chiefly to finish a work on Evidence, which Mr. Bentham had begun years before, and partly carried through the press, but abandoned he never knew why with the manuscripts all be- 60 JEREMY BENTHAM. fore him ; which manuscripts had passed through the hands of three different individuals, for the very same purpose, (27 ) before he begged me to do what he felt as- sured I could do in three weeks. It would have re- quired double that number of months to decipher and arrange the papers. After I had spent a week or two upon them, at the rate of several hours a day, with a se- vere head-ache, for the language and characters were both unreadable, and the argument was entirely lost, he drew me off to prepare a paper for the Westmin- ster Review; after which I was never able to complete the work (though I went to it over and over again before I left the country) in consequence partly of other projects suggested by him, and partly of others that originated with myself. My situation was now all that heart could desire. I had a glorious library at my elbow, a fine large comfortable study, warmed with a steam-engine (ra- ther out of repair) the deficiencies whereof were sup- plied by coal ; exercise-ground, society, and retire- ment all within my reach. In fact, there I spent the happiest, and I believe the most useful days I had ever passed at that period of my life. Is it a re- proach to me that I love to speak of them? that every incident is to my memory now, as a cup brimming with wine ? DIARY. Dec. 17. At dinner to-day, Mr. Bentham spoke freely of his father ; he was an attorney ; a weak man. After which he observed that he him- self, when he took to the law, suffered exceedingly for the want of reports. All reports were in manu- script then. On a particular occasion, said he, I gave a legal opinion, which turned out not to be law, be- cause the law had been altered without my know- (27) Mr. John Mill, Mr. Bingham, and another, who, if I do not mistake, was Mr. Hill, the barrister. Mr. John Mill took away the marrow of it for the larger work on Evidence ; why, nobody knew, for he was not paid by the page there to see it through the press. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 61 ledge or consent. I refused to give an opinion after this. The case mentioned however, was put into the hands of Lord Kenyon (I believe) who also gave an opinion. I lost he gained. He could make nothing of it, and was paid for proving as much at the par- ties' cost. I acknowledged that I could make no- thing of it and suffered by proving the wherefore at . my own cost. I could not help imagining as he went through the history of this early error, how much of his subse- quent views of the law, the lawyers, and the judges of England, might be owing to this very incident. Many a lawyer has had his whole course of study changed by a similar event. I happen to know se- veral, and may be permitted to mention one. A small book, published in this country, and entitled Green- leafs Cases, which is a collection of cases doubted, modified, and over-ruled alphabetically arranged for immediate reference, would never have been made, but for the unfortunate issue of an early case with the author. He had come to court, fully prepared to es- tablish every point by the law authorities, and by all the law authorities he had ever been allowed an op- portunity of studying. That is all very well, said the judge, after hearing him through very well, indeed, sir ; but you do not appear to have studied such a case, naming it. Our youthful practitioner read the page re- ferred to was astounded, overwhelmed to perceive that his law was no longer the law of the land ; left the court, went back to his solitary study, and began forth- with to save all the cases that fell in his way, of a doubtful character. Most of Mr. Bentham's peculiar views, peculiar habits, and peculiar figures, I believe I might say all, may be traced in the same way to in- cidents connected with his youth; his hatred of Eng- lish law and of English lawyers, of Blackstone, of Mansfield, and of Eldon to his fortunate failure in the profession. Other facts of the same nature will appear, in the further development of his character. 62 JEREMY BENTHAM. After this, he spoke of M. Dumont, whom, in his half-pleasant, half-serious, odd way, he charged with blasphemy, in one of his editorial notes. I don't know where to look for it, he added I never saw it ; I never read any thing of my own or his cannot bear it. However, you may a a there, there look for it, in what he says on the subject of degrees of persua- sion in evidence a a what says he ? I found the passage. It was pretty well, though any thing but an answer to the text which he designed to contro- vert. Ah ah, said Mr. B. as I read it over aloud so he could not say how many degrees, hey ? Is that any reason why another who can say, shall not be permitted to say how many degrees there are in a given piece of testimony ? No man is obliged to make use of the scale ; it may do some good, it can do no harm ; of most use to the judges. Here I asked him why printed blanks might not be used, to be filled up in every cause by the judge, as a check upon his own rough estimate of the value of testimony, if nothing more. Yes yes what do you think of Dumont and his note ? A very honest and very clever man said I ; but I see no force, no radical force in the objec- tion. Ah a a it may be well for you to read all these works, English and French both, to give some account of them. By this time, the philosopher had got his coat off, the dinner being out of the way, and sat before me so that nothing was visible but the shirt, which was all open at the bosom ; into which he had thrust one arm, up to the elbow, and was rubbing away with an ivory paper-cutter. By and by, while searching for the water-bottle, he broke out, with Cursed bitch has carried my, my a a a no here 'tis. I laughed at his manner it was so unlike any thing I had ever seen off the stage. Moliere would have been delighted with every word, Matthews, with every look so pleasant, so pettish, so affectedly wrathful, and so fidgetty were they. You call names PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 63 with a very good natured air, said I. I'm a cursed dog for it, said he, scratching away, I removed it my- self to assist her in clearing up for tea ; two cursed dogs therefore. I had now leisure to observe his library, which oc- cupied two whole sides of the room here, and a plain deal book-case at the end of the table, as represented in the sketch by Sully. The platform under us, he told me was contrived to make room for rubbish, old manuscript, &c. The library below was very large, consisting I dare say of two or three thousand vo- lumes, most of which were old and valuable editions of the best works of their age. (28) IHth 19th 20th. We had further conversation about M. Dumont, whose character and history I wanted much to know something of. For a French- man, said I, he did remarkably well with what you say of English law ; his habits as a lawyer were against his perception of your rule for estimating the worth of testimony by degrees, marked upon a table. Not a lawyer, said he not a Frenchman a Gene- vese; they speak French at Geneva, but do not con- sider themselves French. No, no not, a lawyer, I say but acquainted with the practice of law, that was what I intended to say ,- too much of a book-law- yer. (29) True true yes yes. Dumont was here for (28) Never shall I forget a scene that occurred just before I left the coun- try. By little and little, by borrowing and taking without leave, which he was permitted to do in the course of several years Mill the father had contrived to get from five to seven hundred volumes of the best of this library into his own study. Shelves were made for them, and the key was kept by himself; and so far did he carry his notions of proprietorship, that Mr. Bentham, who had suffered once by not being able to get a peep at his own books, when Mill the borrower was in the country, begged him to be so very obliging as to leave the key. But Mr. Mill do you think he did it? No. He marched off into the country as before, and Mr. Bentham had to wait a whole month for a peep. At last, George, his nephew, arrived from France, and being the heir of his uncle's property, it was thought well enough to make a list, if nothing more, of the books borrowed by the two Mills. I need not say how the matter proceeded but it ended in the restoration of two or three thousand dollars worth of books, which, on the death of the owner, might have been lost to the heir. (29) M. Dumont says in the Traite des Preuves Judiciaires, 2: 136. " De- puis que j'ai suivi notre tribunal d Geneve, J'ai," etc. etc. 64 JEREMY BENTHAM. several years, but never could understand our course of procedure. But for him, these books never would have seen the light I was so taken up with the Pa- nopticon. 2 1 st. Calls me every day to walk in the garden with him before dinner. Halloos like a man-of-war's boat- swain in a storm ; good practice for the lungs thinks they are strengthened by it, as they undoubtedly are. When he began to halloo, he could not make himself heard in the library ; now the whole neighbourhood may hear him. I observe to-day that his real stature, before he began to stoop, must have been about five- feet-six. I do not know that I ever saw a finer picture than this old man, hurrying away on a re- pectable trot, with a cane that he calls dapple, after the favourite mule of Sancho Panza ; a plain, single- breasted coat of a dark greenish olive ; white hair, as white, as plentiful, and curved about as much as the mane of a horse; a straw hat, edged and banded with a bright green ribbon; thick woollen stockings, rolled up over his knees outside of a pair of drab cloth trowsers, (He hates breeches never could look at himself in breeches without laughing, he says); a waistcoat of thin striped calico, all open at the bosom a dress, take it all together, which he wears, not only in the depth of winter, but in the heat of sum- mer. To-day he acknowledged with an affected serious- ness, which I could not help thinking was not alto- gether assumed, that he was afraid of ghosts, and that he durst not open his eyes in the dark. Never- theless, when he came to argue the matter with him- self, he said, he found no difficulty in satisfying his own mind that there could be no such thing as a real ghost; for, added he, if there are ghosts, they must appear either clothed or not clothed. But they never appear not clothed of course, therefore, they are oblig- ed to appear in the ghost of clothes too. That's my PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 65 exhaustive mode of reasoning all creatures are either ghosts or non-ghosts, lawyers or non-lawyers. I wanted to call his name Ben-tham (instead of Bent-ham, the pronunciation they give it in England), as being less French and more English ; and rallied him upon what I affected to believe a corruption of the more vulgar name of Cruikshank Bent-ham. But he had another and a better root by far. Ham was an abbreviation of hamlet, a small village; (30) hence Bucking-ham. There were two little villages in York- shire now of that name, he said; perhaps he intended to say Essex or Surry ; for there is a hamlet in Sur- ry, on the Thames, not more than a dozen miles from Q. S.P., which is called Ham ; and two in Essex, one called East-Ham, six or eight miles from London, the other West-Ham, near Stratford. There is also a town of the same name in France, forty or fifty miles from Amiens, on the Somme. Two others might be mentioned ; that is, Bentheim, a county of Hanover, and Bentheim, a town in Ireland, in the county of Bentheim, if it were only to remind the reader of the pleasant wilfulness of Dr. Franklin, who persisted in deriving his name from Franklin, a small farmer. In the course of the week, he told me a capital story of his father, who got seriously offended with a clerk in some public office, to whom he had never done a favour in his life, because the clerk had never com- plimented him with any of the government paper and stationary. It was no joke neither, said he, throwing up his white hair with a jerk of his fore-finger, and sticking out his right elbow after a fashion he had fallen into a fashion peculiar enough to identify any man alive, though not to be described on paper without a drawing ; no joke neither, for he charged him with it! Perhaps it may be well to inform the reader, that the stationary-bill of the British government is made (30) Properly from the Saxon Ham for a house or farm. 9 66 JEREMY BENTHAM. to cover a prodigious quantity, presented by all the clerks to all their friends and acquaintances, if they like. In that country I had several correspondents, who never wrote me on any other than government- paper; and to this day letters arrive almost always on the same sort of sheet-franks. 25. Sunday. Mr. B. sleeps standing after dinner ; fell once he says, and hurt himself on the elbows; the approaches of sleep are extremely delightful, he adds, being half asleep at the time. He sits up in bed in the morning to enjoy the approaches of sleep not to sleep. And here it may not be amiss to de- scribe the bed. The philosopher sleeps in a bag, and sometimes with his coat on; the bed not being made up for a month together. Somebody had pointed out to him a note by the translator of Dumont's Preuves Judiciaires (p. 336), in which the translator into Eng- lish had attacked Mr.B. as profoundly ignorant of equity procedure. He laughed heartily and sincerely when he read it did not recollect having seen it be- fore, though Mr. Doane, his clever secretary, had read it to him when it first appeared, as we discovered when Mr. D. came up to tea. 27th. I am naturally a weak mind, said he to-day. All that can be said for me is, that I have made the most of it. Charles Butler (alluding to Mr. Butler, the learned editor of Littleton), has applied to Bow- ring for assistance about the history of literature in the West ; a sort of literary coxcomb, though a good compiler, added he. The lord chancellor once wrote him a letter, which he got framed and hung up in his office. To-day Col. Young, late secretary to the Marquis of Hastings, in the government of India, dined with us. When Mr. B. brought us together, it was in the following way : Here colonel' here N. ; this is col. Young, no better than a Scotchman; that is J. N., he's no better than a Yankee. Notwithstanding this, PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 67 however, I found the personage introduced, to be a very superior man. N. B. I find by referring to my diary, that I have not always marked the date; which would be no otherwise material than as a matter of curiosity with a very few, or as a ground of corroboration or contra- diction. Where the dates are preserved, 1 shall give them hereafter; in every other case, merely copy the memoranda. Mr. Bentham never could learn to dance, it was torture to him, he said ; and yet he has a remarkably good ear, and has played the organ with a masterly touch. He had suffered cruelly once when a boy ; never should forget it. He was on a visit some- where, and of course on his good behaviour. A beautiful child was there without a partner; he had been looking at her, and thought her the prettiest girl he had ever seen. At last somebody asked him to dance with her ; he was obliged to say no and was ready to cut his own throat. I must now give two or three specimens of the peculiar phraseology at Q. S. P. Instead of saying to the secretary on my left, please to touch the bell, or please to ring it, he says make-ringtion ; (31) and this, not merely for the joke, but in sober earnest, though intended for a caricature of his own' theory. But he, and the secretary on my left, who has lately betaken himself to the church, are in the habit of substituting words, which though synonymous at law, are not so in practice. Instead of saying a rich paste, they say an opulent paste ; for shortness, they say bre- vity ; for veal-pie, the basis of that pie is veal ; for good mutton, virtuous mutton ; for pretty-good, or apparently-good, plausible ; and so with I know not how many more words ; all which from the rnouth of Mr. B. the philosopher and the humourist, the great (31) The slang dictionary has ii jangle the tinkler. 68 JEREMY BENTHAM. and good, though whimsical old man, is rather divert- ing than otherwise. But when repeated by a youth, and with imperturbable gravity, as if a new mode of speech were to be learned by those who had the honour of eating at the table of his preceptor, it was infinitely diverting. Speaking of the time of trouble, the reign of terror in England, when the ministry plotted and counter- plotted with a gang of desperate and foolish conspi- rators, till the latter were decoyed within the reach of a law whereby most of them were put to death, he said that he himself had expected every day to be prosecuted for what he said of the law, the judges, and the chancellor of England. I wonder you were not, said I. I became a bencher that saved me a bencher of Lincoln's Inn a a no example of the prosecution of a bencher. What is a bencher pray? He sits at the upper end of the table behind a screen, where they (the benchers) guttle and guzzle out of sight of the commonalty, who pay for their benefit. Jan. 7, 1826. N. said he, when we met to-day at dinner, you must join with me against the Holy Alli- ance. That I will, said I, laughing at the serious- ness, with which he repeated his original proposition. Speaking of his code, the constitutional code perhaps, or that which was preliminary to it, and sketched out in his correspondence with Count Toreno, he observed that Bowring had objected to the passage where he had found fault with the Spaniards for mak- ing their representatives non-eligible. I was very hard on them there said he a a I have changed now ; just found a substitute, so as to retain all the experience without any of the risk. He then pro- ceeded to explain the object of what he denominated the continuation-committee an admirable expedient by the way, and worthy of profound consideration here. Mr. Doane plays the organ a few minutes before dinner, while Mr. B. is fetching his walk in the gar- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 69 den. Mr. D. is very fond of music, and has no other opportunity to try over a modern air ; as the philoso- pher, though passionately fond of it also, cannot en- dure either Von Weber or Rossini Der Freischutz or the opera, or any thing indeed but Handel. When this same secretary was quite a boy he is not more than five and twenty now, happening to be at work on a favourite passage for Mr. B. a stop got out of order, and kept squeaking till he lost all patience and charged the poor lad with playing false the youth re- plied the philosopher repeated the charge the stop squeaked on there was no stop to it, as we say in Ame- rica a quarrel ensued the high-spirited youth took advantage of a hint, and with a note for his father walked off. But the quarrel was short ; both were sorry each loved the other, and the benevolent old man could not well do without the society of the good-humoured, intelligent boy. A letter or two passed a brief interview followed between third par- ties another, tears on the part of the philosopher, and perhaps on the part of the boy, and by the end of the day a complete reconciliation, which has never been disturbed since. When Mr. B. goes to bed, he leaves a watch upon the table, which, at a preconcerted signal, is wound up and carried to him by the secretary, whose turn it may be to sit up and read him to sleep; an office per- formed for him now altogether by the embryo-church- man. While I was there I took it upon myself two or three times, and always found him fast asleep at the bottom of the first page at furthest, and absolute- ly incapable of perceiving whether I read the same passage over and over again or not, before I was half through. Nevertheless, he will not acknowledge that he loves to be read to sleep oh no ! but he wishes to save time. Having no leisure himself to read none to hear others read, save when he is either asleep, or dropping asleep, all this economy of his time and 70 JEREMY BENTHAM. waste of another's, our codifier and reformer of all sorts of bad husbandry, unthriftiness, and prodigality in states, persuaded himself to be good management in a household. I have sometimes thought, said he, this evening, with a look of solemnity, whether or no I was not mad. If I am not such things will come across our thoughts now and then (To be sure, said I) all the rest of the world must be so. No, said I their not be- lieving as you do, in cases which are abundantly clear, proves not that they are mad, but that they have not considered the matter as you have. True, true good God, good God yes, yes, to be sure ; besides, for forty years there was nobody to attack me, except with ridicule and misrepresentation except in the case I told you of, about eligibility, where Bowring opposed me and prevailed. I changed my opinion there. How did your father speak of those works ? He had just taken down the Defence of Usury from the shelf, and mentioned that the copy had belonged to his father. It was full of letters, and a review from the Monthly was wafered into it. I'll tell you, said he, with great eagerness. Jerry said he, on his death-bed, Jerry, you have made a philosopher of me. I suppose I smiled, for the idea of the old white-haired man before me ever having been called Jerry Jerry^ tickled me prodigiously. He made another will, and left out the name of Christ. I did more than smile now ; I laughed. The idea of tak- ing that for a measure of improvement in philosophy was yet more diverting than the other; but he was quite serious. He was present when Wedderbourne insulted Frank- lin, who, out of compliment to the occasion, appeared in a magnificent court-dress. The reader will remem- ber that Franklin said, when asked what he intended to do, as he stood at the door, ' touched with noble PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 71 anger' His master shall pay for it ; and his master did pay for it, for the next time the doctor wore that same dress, he was at Versailles, with the treaty between France and the United States of America lying before him. He remembered Franklin, though they were not acquainted then ; but he remembered nothing of the court-dress, though he certainly could not say that Franklin did not appear in one at the time he was so brutally and fiercely attacked. But he had it from one of the British plenipotentiaries at Versailles at the time of the signing of the treaty (Lord St. Helens, I believe), that Franklin was not ready to sign for several days after the rest ; and at length it came out, in some way or other, that he had been waiting for his coat from London ; the only little thing he ever did his only blot, added Bent- ham. What if any thing had happened to prevent the signature of the treaty during those three or four days, while the minister of America was wait- ing for a particular dress to sign it in ? What would have been the consequences to the reputation of Dr. Franklin for good sense or good husbandry ? And what might have been the consequences to our coun- try, and to the whole world ? When our philosopher was a young man, he was very unsocial; to cure him, his father managed to have him admitted into a musical society, where he used to go and sit in a corner week after week, without opening his mouth ! At Ford-Abbey a country-seat he took by the year, as much on account of Mr. Mill, who had a large family which he did not know what to do with, as on account of himself, I dare say he used to fiddle with the exciseman, to the great marvel of the latter. He used to avoid his father after his re- turn from these convivial meetings, and would sit twirling his thumbs by the hour together. At last, regularly, his father would put the following question, and get the following reply. Why Jerry! have 72 JEREMY BENTHAM. you nothing to say to your poor dear father? What shall I say, father! Of this father's second wife, the mother of the present Lord Colchester, he used to speak uniformly, as Mrs. Jezabel she always called him, he said, Mr. Jerry. She would drink the roast mutton gravy out of the dish, before it went below a fact which I have no doubt had a decided influence upon our phi- losopher's future estimalion of the worth of such gra- vy ; for even to this day, it is the only thing whose distribution he watches at the table. Every man to his spoonful, is his motto here. He used to sleep with his granny, who was in the habit of treating herself to the cold mutton for supper, and to an ap- ple, of which he was allowed the skin. Much of his inflexible honesty now, in the distribution of fat and lean, crust and crumb, skin and core, to this day, I do believe in my soul may be attributed to this ma- nagement of his dear old granny. His partialities too how many of them are traceable to the same fact. He loved the skin yet, and would rather eat the skin of grapes now than the pulp, if he were not forbidden by the doctors. I knew of a case, and mentioned it, where almost every member of a large school, as I was told by one of the young ladies, after she had got to be the mother of young ladies herself, grew fond of stale bread bread a month or two old by Shrewsbury clock, and all dried up entirely from seeing the head-instructress put away her crusts with great care, in the holes and corners of the house, and there leave them (to be stolen by the scholars most of the time,) till they \vere almost incapable of being eaten, and then " munch, and munch, and munch," like the sailor's wife in Macbeth, till every child's mouth watered that saw her. He dined with the celebrated Erskine one day, who wished to see him on account of his Fragment on Government, (which Mr. B. has just heard for PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 73 the first time, was reprinted years and years ago in Dublin). Erskine was poor very poor; he was in the office of a special-pleader at the time. Although it was cold weather, he wore a silk summer-dress ; he had served not only at sea, but on shore as a soldier. He knew how to cajole a jury; Mr. B. heard him in the celebrated case of Lord George Gordon. He frequently referred to Dumont, and observed to-day that he was a clergyman; that he received a pension from the British government of 400, in the form of a clerkship, now augmented to 500 by Sid- mouth, under pretence that his works were the cause. Mr. Bentham was offered a pension the amount not named M. Dumont himself was the bearer of the offer. Bentham \vas angry ; arid 'Dumont went away with his tail between his legs.' My father, said he to-day, speaking with that air of pleasantry which so distinguished him, when he knew that he was going to affix a label forever to a subject my father had two ways of settling every difficult question. He would look thoughtful a few minutes, and then he would say it is a mystery ; the preliminary of the second case did not vary much, but the words were different. After looking very thought- ful as before, he would say it is infatuation. So that whatever was not a mystery, was infatuation ; and whatever was not infatuation, was a mystery. His father had two pet phrases of great worth to him in the hurry of business. He used to say of somebody, whom he had been in the habit of seeing, that he had taken himself unto his own hands as if that were a thing to reproach him for. If any body should propose to make money by his help, though without any cost or trouble to him, or any sort of ac- countability on his part, legal or moral, he would re- fuse with great dignity, saying he was not to be made a property of. His father had a small library, which he kept lock- 10 74 JEREMY BENTHAM. ed up. As he could never unite the idea of amuse- ment with that of instruction, he would not allow Jerry to read any thing that amused him. But Jerry got hold of Clarissa one day, and he never stopped till he had finished the story. Richardson was a great favourite with him to this day, he likes to read a novel in five or six large octavos. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 75 CHAPTER V. Dr. Parr Mr. Parkes Col. Stanhope Dr. Maculloch Sympathy Penal Code Helvetius Relatives on the side of the Mother Poetry Reading to Sleep Singular Habit of throwing up his Hair Ghosts Marked and Sheared Bed-chamber Habils Mr. Smith, M. P. Breakfast Fruit before Dinner His Bed Servants Theory and Practice at War Bowring Sir F. Burdett Sir Samuel Romilly Cobbett Mr. B.'s Father Mother-in- Law Quarrel with Reform in the House Rhyming Love of Order Humanity Bentham on Style. DR. PARR used to smoke a pipe whenever he came to see Mr. Bentham, a practice which the lat- ter abhorred. He would either call for his pipe, or come provided with one, and pull it out immediately after dinner. I should not suppose the Philosopher would like it, said I to the secretary on my right. He was obliged to like it, was the reply; he could not have the doctor on any other terms. The doctor used to call Mr. Bentham Master Jerry, to his head! Mr. Joseph Parkes (32), a solicitor from Birming- ham, who married an American wife, (the daughter of Dr. Priestley) dined at Q. S. P. to-day. Mr. P. tells me that when he was a boy, Dr. Parr told him to read the works of Bentham as the greatest man that ever lived; and that not long before, a preacher of the gospel, a very clever man and a fine scholar, who was not suspected by Mr. P. to know any thing of Bent- ham, in reply to some questions about what book for the last hundred years had done most for the mind, and showed most power and originality, answered without hesitation Bentham's Morals and Legislation ; add- (32) Mr. P. is the Solicitor of Warwickshire, author of the History of a Court of Chancery, alluded to by Mr. Brougham, in his celebrated speech on the state of English law. 76 JEREMY BENTHAM. ing, that Dr. Parr had told him to read it many years before; that he read it accordingly, and had never had but one opinion of it since. I repeated all this to Mr. Bentham, who laughed and chuckled, and then, by way of a set-off, added Why, w r hy a a only think a a Doctor a a Parr gave a list to a young lord, who wanted to be directed in his reading, of books for him to read. (I preserve the style here exactly.) Among the rest there was Algernon Sydney on Government he was to read him over ten times, and De Lolme and Blackstone, and all the rest of that class a a (laughing a little here, a very little) and no mention made of me. I tried to smooth it off, perhaps, said I, the doctor was like certain tutors, theologians, and lawyers, who are paid so much a year to oversee or in other words to overlook the reading of youth ; and whose catalogue of what should be read, is but a duplicate catalogue of the books they happen to have in their own library. They are acquainted with no other and why should a younger man wish to do otherwise than they did ? Dr. Parr was rather su- perficial in such matters ; and may have recommend- ed the book for two other reasons to avoid making himself unpopular as your admirer, and to give the young lord stuff that he would be able to digest milk for babes, lion's meat for men, pap for the nobility. He appeared tolerably satisfied with this, and the sub- ject was dropped. Col. Stanhope Leicester Stanhope, the friend of Byron, dined here to-day ; a pleasant, gentlemanly man, much overrated by the philosopher of Queen- Square Place. Some conversation took place about a mutual friend, Dr. Maculloch the geologist, che- mist, magazine-writer, Scotchman, traveller, &LC. F &c. certainly one of the cleverest men of the day, take him altogether. He is affronted, with me, said Mr. Bentham, because I told him that people other peo- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 77 pie, thought him too diffuse. And when we pay by the page, it is natural enough that a man should make the most of what he has to say. He spoke here as the proprietor of the Westminster Review, which he had established and continued at a heavy expense. To-day I observed an anxiety to please at dinner, which I had not observed before a sort of nervous- ness which prepared me for something new. As soon as we were alone together, and he had begun to take his post-prandial vibrations that is,to walk to and fro in the narrow ditch between the outer wall of the room, and the raised platform described before, the symptoms increased; and by and by, he made a full stop, and turning to me, though without looking me in the face, began thus. My dear N I am going to tell you something that has been in my mind now for three months. At this, I began to prick up my ears. He proceeded Yes and I have been desiring to tell you ; you know my sympathy for every mind and every body a a . At length he came to the point; he was in the habit of spitting a great deal, and for want of a spitoon or spit-box, he used the article mentioned be- fore. And having taken it into his head that I might have' a similar inclination, and balk it from a fear of giving trouble, he had concluded after turning it over in his mind for three months, to mention it to me in this way, with unspeakable solemnity. It was quite a relief to me I confess, when he had unburthened his mind perhaps greater to me than to him after the preliminaries were over. April 2. Speaking of his Penal Code, he said, there is nothing beyond that. After which he led off in fine style over the reminiscences of his youth. Some- thing I met with in Helvetius (33) made a great im- (33) Helvetius de 1' Esprit, was an attack on religious principles in general : it questioned the foundation of all religions, and left the reader to draw con- clusions and make inferences. It came out before Emilius appeared. See 78 JEREMY BENTHAM. pression upon me a friar goes to Rome to dispute about the right of wearing a particular dress. Now quoth Helvetius, who knows but that friar may have shown as much acuteness, power of reasoning and knowledge as the profoundest statesman or the great- est warrior that ever lived ? Very true that set me thinking about legislation as the greatest of all en- quiries nothing above that you know. But you had already been occupied in a similar way ? said I. Oh yes yes yes; I began to think of doing good before I was seven years old, reading Telema- chtis. And off he lanched into a delightful account of his relations on the mother's side. Here too the very language of Mr. B. is preserved. I remember then hearing that the relations on my mother's side were remarkably virtuous, and I remember sitting under the tomb-stone of my great-grandfather, hear- ing of his beneficence. He was a parson ; by his frugality and good management, he secured a little Condorcet's Voltaire, condensed. The author Claude Adrian Helvetius was born in 1715 died in 1791. The fundamental maxim of the work was que Pinter* t personnel doit itrc V unique base de la morale A maxim, says a celebrated French author, which would destroy all virtue, maxime qui detruiroit toute vertu. Such were the crude notions of utility, when Helvetius broke ground preparatory to storming the chief bulwarks of error bulwarks which Paley tried to sap, and which Bentham carried by assault. See the chapter on Utility however. Voltaire (in his Queries upon the Encyclopedia,) says of the work de 1'Es- prit qu'il est un peu confus, qu'il manque de m thod (a great error) et qu'il est gate par des contes indignes d'un livre de philosophic. And this, although the author was a pupil of his, although a very sincere and hearty friendship existed between them, and the preceptor had borne the following testimony to his poetry, which was about as bad as poetry could well be in French. Vos vers semblent Merits par la main d'Apollon, Vouz n'en avez pour fruit que ma reconnaissance ; Votre livre est dicte par la saine raison Partez vite, et quittez la France. Another great object with Helvetius was to show that La sensibilile physique est a-la-fois 1'unique source de nos idees et de nos jugements, et qu'enfin juger n'est que sentir. To judge is only to feel. Bentham's leading principle is the same in fact. Rousseau in his Emile combats the doctrine, without men- tioning the author by name who was then virtually proscribed for this very work. Tu veux, dit-il tu veux en vain t'avilir, ton genie depose contre tes principes ; ton cceur bienfaisant d ment ta doctrine, et 1'abus meme de tes facultes preuve leur excellence en depit de toi. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 79 fortune for his children. He had a son, a book- seller, who published Tiudal's Christianity as old as the Creation ever see it ! No. Oh, yes, yes made a free-thinker of me before I was thirteen. Before that, my father took a Frenchman into the fa- mily and gave him his board for instructing me ; he was a free-thinker; I read some good books at a very early age in consequence Voltaire. I remember a scene of sensibility before I was two years old. Ah, said I how was that ? Yes, yes did I never tell you of it? Never. Oh yes, a a I was on a visit to a a a place which he described as now deso- late, the very earth laid bare ; went to visit it lately with some friends nothing left of it. After this he proceeded with the anecdote of his babyhood. Two persons gave him to eat ; he eat till he could eat no more. A third offered something ; he could not eat it, and so he cried; cried he remembers now, because of the distress he felt at the idea of ingratitude ; gooseberry-pie was one thing they had. In his penal code there is a provision for injury done to friendship, by speaking ill of one known to be a friend of the party spoken to. Who ever heard of such a thing before ? said he. How much it shows of a man's character. How much indeed ! for it was a downright piece of self-deception, calculated to pre- vent the truth from appearing against anybody whom he had favoured with his friendship. Why should a man shrink from any communication about him to his friend or to him about his friend ? What injury could it do to a friend or a friendship worth having ? I never knew the sage of Queen-Square Place in a pleasanter humor, brimfull of joke and laugh, he rallied me not a little for having made poetry, and in the course of our talk repeated the following lines, with a gravity and stateliness never to be sufficiently admired. I shall give what I can of the very cadence he observed. 80 JEREMY BENTHAM. Two children sliding on the ice, All on a summer's day; It so fell out (very slow) they all fell in (pause) The rest they ran away. Now (increased solemnity) had these children staid at home, Or slid upon dry ground, (A pursing out of the mouth here, and a profound shake of the head.) Ten thousand pounds to one pen-ny ! They had not all been drowned. At length we parted. Good night, sir, said I well then good night to you ! if you come to that. Mr. D. told me that when Mr. J. F. C. the other se- cretary, went home to see his family, which was about once a week, and it came to his turn to read Mr. Bent- ham asleep, he used to do it in a jiffy, simply by read- ing the same page over and over again, in precisely the same tone of voice, without ever troubling himself to turn over ; it was all the same to the codifier. Mr. Bentham, I observe now, has a way of walk- ing with one leg held up stiff, his wooden-leg they call it here, though nothing is the matter with it : when he is a little disturbed you may hear that leg stumping about overhead, like that which Irving de- scribes in the history of Peter Van Stuyvesant. He has also a habit of sitting with one shoulder high- er than the other ditto one eye-brow ditto one half of his under lip, as you may see it in the broad caricature of an English sailor. All this may be owing to the deafness of one ear ; the eye-brow, the lip, and the shoulders would be naturally affected by the muscles of the face and the habit of turning to hear. He sits too with the back of one hand resting in the palm of the other ; he should be so painted ; for these are confirmed and essentially cha- racteristic habits with him. Another which cannot be painted though it may be described, has been al- luded to before. Every minute or two he is in the habit of throwing back the hair from his face and neck, by a singular motion of the left hand. He projects the left elbow horizontally, into the most PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 81 awkward of positions ; then curves the whole fore-arm like a child learning to eat with a large spoon, crooks his fore-finger, so as nearly to complete the circle half-described by the arm, and then throws up the hair with a jerk. This he will do every half-minute, while engaged in conversation or walking in the wind. It has a laughable effect in the view of a stranger he would mistake the right-arm of the O .5^ sage for a sort of crank, put in motion by the foot below as he walked. He told me to-day that he was born 14-15 Feb. 1747 8 ; when the old-style was changed there was a change in the year as well as in the day ; it began either in February or March before. I preserve the very language of his explanation here. He shuts the flap of the book-case to hide the hole in the floor, which is occupied by the player at the organ ; the darkness being rather unpleasant to the philosopher, he affects to believe it full of ghosts not seriously to be sure, but more than half-serious- ly. He sleeps in his coat now having ordered the flaps to be cut off, which are too warm for the night, and bring on the heat and itching of the skin, with which he is afflicted after dinner the devil he calls it. Having drawn a line down each side of the middle-seam, with a bit of chalk, he has or- dered a strip of the cloth to be cut out and a cord to be let in, like the lacing of stays, to keep his back-bone cool : D. the mischievous dog he em- ployed for this purpose having cut off the flaps of the coat and ripped it up in the back, now added the initials of the philosopher's name, as if to provide against his going astray, putting them in large white letters in the very middle of the back. When I mentioned it, saying If you escape now, sir, you will be brought home ; instead of -being offended, he laugh- ed, said it was a foolish joke, and made the secretary rub it off. Such a figure no mortal ever saw before 11 82 JEREMY BENTHAM. out of a mad-house. I cannot think of it to this day without laughing. I can see him now, it is the four- teenth of June, thermometer at 76 ; There he goes with a pair of thick leather gloves on, woollen stock- ings rolled up over his knees outside, his coat-tail shaved away like a sailor's round-about, and stooping, with his reverend rump, pushed out like that of a young chicken. I made a sketch of his figure, but am half afraid to publish it. He sleeps now with his feet in a bag. On some occasion, wanting an im- provement in the shape of his bed, he told the car- penter to jump in, so that he could judge for himself what was wanted. In the fellow jumped, shoes and all covered with rnud, No idea I could sleep in such a place, added our philosopher with the most divert- ing simplicity on hearing the fact mentioned. I could not help thinking of his regular ablutions every night, and of the cleanliness insisted upon in the Panopticon. To-day he had invited Mr. John Smith, M. P., the banker, to dine with him ; has a return of the itching. I give his very words here. Sent for Smith (scratch- ing away) sent for him a a . Good God, good God a a . God forgive me ; very bad indeed (scratching more violently) wonder he don't reply. Very bad, very didn't send it to the office, no sleep at all sent time enough to hear could'nt sleep; that yankee there, nodding to me see Smith. Good God a a great influence ; pimple or two here, (searching his bosom with an ivory paper-cutter), two Richard, two, &c. &c. I hear to day, though I never knew it before, that he takes two cups of strong coffee in bed every morn- ing ; he began with one, but kept increasing, till now he drinks two, still persuading himself that he has not yielded a hair's breadth to the habit: he takes one or two more at twelve o'clock ; breakfasts from twelve to three, in two rounds of toast, two rounds of bread- and-butter, a crumpet, a muffin, and a large pot of tea ; dines at half-past six. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 83 With all his regard for the comfort of others how- ever, and with all his undeniable and active sympathy, he sometimes, though very rarely, appears to be quite forgetful of others. One day Mr. L)., Mr. C. (the other secretary) and myself, had been exercising till we were as hungry as tigers. We were all complain- ing of the lateness of the hour at last we were sum- moned. Up we go, and sit twisting our thumbs, while Mr. B. goes to work on his mealy potatoe, the first thing he eats at dinner, and that which he appears to enjoy most ; that over, we go to the soup, he with his hunger partially allayed, perhaps with fruit, before the dinner was served, (34) we ready to eat each other. After that, we still yearn- ing for the meat, he orders up the gooseberry-pie, large enough to fill a half-peck measure and eats about a fourth-part of it. At last I lose all patience, and turn away, while he is eating slowly, the junior secretary reading the middle of a story aloud, the first part of which had been read to him at breakfast, and we sucking our thumbs. I had half a mind to drop a remark about the table-habits of Dr. Johnson, the twenty cups of tea, &c. &c. you might have turned the new-river through him, if it were tinctur- ed with Bohea but I was not in the humor for plea- santry, and forbore. Such things did not often occur; he was generally the kindest and most attentive, and self-denying of hosts. I am told to-day that he has his bed made only when he changes the sheets, that is, about once a month sometimes not for six weeks ; that coffee has been spilt on those he now sleeps in that it is all spotted and discoloured with his fleecy hosiery, which he wears to bed with him, though wet and muddy ; and that sometimes other droll accidents occur, which added to his peculiar night-dress, the truncated cloth- (rl4) Dr. Holyoke, who lived to the age of 101, used to eat a good deal of ripe fruit, and always just before dinner. So does Mr. Bentham. 84 JEREMY BENTHAM. coat, and the bag for his feet, are indeed examples of idiosyncracy not often to be met with. But the manner in which he was treated by his own servants and particularly by a fat house-keeper, who had been with him for a great number of years, was the most extraordinary of all comments upon his theory of checks and balances, and expedients for making people do their duty. One or two instances I shall mention here on the authority of Mr. D. One day he had a new Portuguese plant for dinner, which was fried like an egg, in parsley. He was very fond of parsley. Good, very good Anne a a more parsley; make-ringtion a-^a Anne, tell cook more paisley ; do I make myself clear? more parsley. Anne went down, staid awhile come back, and said he could not have any more parsley, because the frying pan was put away. D. heard this. And for myself I know, that day after day, and week after week, he had desired not ordered, but desired the potatos to be baked instead of boiled ; but never with any cor- respondent success. And one day this very Anne, told him, on his complaining that there were only four on the table, that there was no room for more in the boiler! I have known the mushrooms too, of which his guests were always very fond, magnificent specimens, to pass the window on their way to the kitchen, day after day, without appearing at the table. To those who are acquainted with the minutia of de- tail in the state-economy of our lawgiver, these facts in his household-economy must be very amusing. He could reform the world, easier than he could regulate his own little establishment. There are no checks in the family ; everything is trusted to the servants, even the key of the wine-cellar. When the house-keeper is out of money, she sends up and gets a check, and when that is gone she sends for more ; he never looks at the account, nor asks for it nor gets it. June 12, 1826. Ever hear of a bargain I propose PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 85 a a a bargain for the future, said he. Some com- fort for my death-bed ; first year of my death will be the first year of my reign ; if you have not, you are the only one of my intimates that has not. I know very well how long I have a right to live at my age ; I look at the tables four years now ; the longer I live the harder the bargain God Almighty will drive with me. Now I say here God almighty ; here are four years : Now I'll give up two of the four, if you'll let me take the other two at such intervals as I like one hundred, two hundred years hence; I should like to see the effect. (35) Had no answer to the purpose yet perhaps there may be. Wilberforce or or , naming several more, they might have one, or others in a more advanced stage of hu- man discovery. His health, instead of growing worse, would appear to be growing decidedly better. He used to have the tooth-ache, the ear-ache, the head-ache, and always winter-coughs, till within the last two years now he is entirely free from all these troublesome and wear- ing ailments. I see no reason why^he should not live to a century. Nothing amuses us more than the confidential com- munications that are made to him, about the state of the world, by the only politician he is ever in the habit of seeing. Yesterday he told me confidentially that (35) To the above a friend says This familiar talk with the Deity, although perfectly innocent, will shock many good folks, and lessen their esteem for Bentham and for his biographer. And rely upon it my friend, it is unfair. Mr. Bentham intended this conver- sation for an ear that he knew it could not offend. You expose it to all the world who may choose to hear and many pure minds that are unused to what our saints would term ' blasphemy' could scarcely forgive either Mr. B. or yourself the indiscretion. It hurts you, it hurts him, it gratifies none, but your enemies and his. My answer to all which is, that I am giving a portrait, and such a portrait as Bentham, being a lover of truth, would wish to be given. I am betray- ing nobody. He that was ready and willing to be caricatured by Matthews on the stage, will never object to such fair household portraiture as this. I had thought of all that is urged above by my friend, before I ventured to give this and one or two other similar anecdotes ; but the conclusion I came to was, that I ought to conceal nothing qualify nothing, which in my view was cha- racteristic. All these things have their value as truth. 86 JEREMY BENTHAM. Mr. Bowring had got a firman (a privilege) to weigh the silver supposed to be on board a certain wreck. The plan, the privilege and all, was a secret. 1 left him, and the next day, happening to cast my eye over the Morning Chronicle, I found it mentioned there in such a way, and so particularly, as to show that it had been communicated to the Morning Chronicle by Bowring himself probably on his way up to the very dinner, where he made the confidential communica- tion to Mr. B. Another day, he spoke to me thus, on the authority of Mr. Bowring. ' Bowring writes that Morrison, who had offered for Marlow, after refusing the wea- vers of Norwich, who perhaps might have elected him, he alleging that he was engaged for Marlow, had knocked up the tories and whigs, and filled them with confusion and dismay.' Mr. Bentham had scarcely mentioned the fact, before the Atlas arrived with the polls, proving that Morrison had no sort of chance. When I mentioned the fact to him, he laughed and said ' A a Bowring is like me, too sanguine? I have just beer? told by one who was at the table when the circumstance occurred, that Bowring having mentioned one day something favourable, which the Duke of Sussex (youngest brother of the king) had said at seeing a card of Bowring's, on which Mr. Bentham had written a few words, Mr. Bentham pulled the bell, and when Anne appeared, addressed the poor girl thus If the Duke of Sussex calls, I am not at home ! Speaking of a sensitive author, he said I cannot imagine how I have offended him. When I told him, to be sure, that people did not like his pamphlet, I took care to add that I knew nothing about the mat- ter myself I had never read a line of his works in all my life ; nothing would do I could not avoid his wrath. For my own part, I could not help laughing heartily at this mode of averting the wrath of an au- thor. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 87 July 7th. A favourite expression of the lawgiver, when he hears any thing new, is, Lord God, only think o' that! accompanied with a shake of his white hair, and a look of eager surprise, with the forehead thrown back, and the whole head thrust forward. Mr. Bowring told him to-day, that there was good hope of sending four radicals from the city. After the cloth was removed, Mr. Bentham said, speaking of Sir Francis Burdett with whom the people were getting dissatisfied, 'I advised them to get together the facts concerning his behaviour as a public man, and put them into a pamphlet; and I offered to fur- nish them with Burdett's letter to me. I should write to him (Burdett), and not take him by sur- prise, merely say that I hoped our private friendship would continue ; but that as a public man, either he or I could not be a friend to the people.' I compli- mented him for this brave sentiment, and open way of dealing with an adversary. This led to some re- marks about Sir Samuel Romilly. ' Just so with Romilly,' said he, ' when I was one of the most in- timate friends he had, and he one of the most inti- mate friends I had. He joined the whigs and I could not agree with him there. I remember the ve- ry last conversation I had with him, a tete a tete con- versation; there was a talk about the seals being of- fered to him, and I advised him to accept them. But he said they never would be offered; and that if they, were, he never would accept them.' They were a great thing to refuse may he not have deceived him- self sir, and meant exactly what he said? 'I don't know very like; he couldn't say how he would feel at another time.' Was he a very superior man, sir? 'No, not very the best o' the whole of them, though; but read his speeches and they amount to nothing; very good though, very good, so far as they went. I gave him the material for one of his speech- es. He came to me one day and tried to stop my Reform Catechism.' Or Church-of-England I for- 83 JEREMY BENTHAM. get which, though I should think the latter as we were talking of that and of Lord Folkstone, a half- radical, who could not swallow a part of the church- work by Bentham, though he was a great admirer of his parliamentary reform-book. 'My dear B,entham, said Romilly the narrator shook his head here, and grew more and more impressive and solemn at every word I wish you would stop that work. It is too late, said I; it is published now. No, no, he replied ; certain forms are to be gone through with first ; the attorney-general sends a clerk and buys a copy; a measure which I know has not been taken. If you do not stop it, / am as certain as I am of my own existence that you will be prosecuted; and if prosecuted, I am as certain as 1 am of my own existence that you will be convicted.'' But Mr. Bent- ham would not stop it, and did not stop it nor was he ever prosecuted, though for a long while he lived in the hourly expectation of arrest. We spoke more of Sir Samuel Romilly. He was a man of no conver- sation ; if a subject was ever started, he cut it short with two or three words, and there he stopped. There was no such thing as conversation at his house; Durnont used to dine there often, and we frequently spoke of it. Dumont said they used to sit side by side with each other for half an hour, without speak- ing. Perhaps the reader may be gratified to see how Mr. Bentham speaks of Sir Samuel Romilly, the friend, the orator, and the lawyer, elsewhere. In page 70 of the ' Indications respecting Lord Eldon,' a most violent and abusive though able work, Bent- ham says, alluding to the manner in which his old friend Mr. Butler had managed to make the buried Sir Samuel Romilly praise the chancellor that very chancellor, whose complimentary letter to Mr. Butler, he, Mr. Butler, kept hung up and framed in his of- fice for the public eye, 'But the hand to which he PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 89 (Butler) has assigned this task (that of lauding the chancellor,) is the hand of Romilly; that confidence- commanding and uncontradictable hand, which for this purpose, resurrection-man like, he has ravished from the tomb. * Having, in the course of between thirty and for- ty years intimacy, been in the habit of hearing senti- ments of so widely different a tendency, on every oc- casion, delivered in relation to this same person (Lord Eldon), silence, on an occasion such as the present, would have been so little distinguishable from assent, that I could not sit easy without defending myself against what might otherwise have appeared a con- tradiction, given to me by my departed and ever-la- mented friend. ' In relation to Lord Eldon, I have no doubt of Romilly's having used language, which at a distance of time, and for want of sufficient discrimination, might naturally and sincerely enough, by a not unwil- ling hand, have been improved into a sort of pane- gyrick thus put into his mouth. But by the simple omission of one part of it, the strictest truth may have the effect of falsehood. 'By my living friend (Butler), my departed friend (Romilly) was never seen but in a mixt company. Assured I \vell am, and by the declaration of my de- parted friend, that between them there was no inti- macy. Between my departed friend and myself, con- fidence was mutual and entire. ' Romilly was among the earliest, and, for a time, the only efficient one of my disciples." Here follows a note, saying, " He was brought to me by my earli- est the late George ^Wilson, who, after leading the Norfolk Circuit for many years, retired with silk on his back to his native Scotland. 7 ' To Romilly, with that secrecy which prudence dictated, my works, such as they were, were from first to last a text-book; the sort of light in which I 12 90 JEREMY BENTHAM. was viewed by him, was in Honourable-House (Par- liament) in his own presence, on an ever memorable occasion, attested by our common friend Mr. Brough- am.' Here follows another note referring to Han- sard's Debates in the House of Commons, June 2nd, 1818, where Mr. Brougham says that ' He agreed with his honourable friend the member for Arundel, Sir Samuel Romilly, who looked up to Mr. Benlham with the almost filial reverence of a pupil for his tu- tor.' To-day we are favoured with Cobbett's character in little. If a man were to write Cobbett a letter, says Bentham, declaring that a strange report was abroad about some distinguished man, charging him with having murdered another: and then if the writer should go on to say that it could not possibly be true, because the murdered man was actually then alive, and the supposed murderer had been with him (the writer of the letter) at the very time charged Cobbett is the man that would publish the first part of the story, word for word, perhaps giving the name of the writer, without saying a syllable of the rest; and if he were ever called upon to account for the omis- sion, he would deny the qualification or postscript and if that was proved, he would say that he had for- gotten it, or been mistaken! Mr. B. never had a quarrel with his father, nor ever but one with his mother-in-law, Mrs. Jezebel, though he gave her a look one day when she drank the roast-mutton gravy out of the dish before she sent away the meat. The quarrel occurred in this way. She had a library of her own. Among her books was Hume's History of England, which he borrow- ed, and used to carry to the barber's with him, when he went to have his hair dressed. After having read several volumes, he begged another. She sent it, saying, this must not go to the barber's. He sent it back immediately, saying, it has not been to the bar- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 91 ber's. A somebody, whose true name was Chamber- lain Clark, but who went by the name of Shamblin Clark, used to say, In every other dispute you have had with your step-mother, you have always been in the right in this, I think you were wrong. If so, how decidedly clear must the other cases have been for a little hair-powder, if it fell on, could be easily and instantly shaken off. But Mr. Bentham still entertained a strong though secret allegiance toward the authority of a father. Never shall I forget the look or tone with which he replied to me once, when I said that if I were young Mill, I would remonstrate with his father, touching a very delicate business. A a a said Mr. Bent- ham; hard thing to say to a father. Young Mill, it appeared, was angry with his father (so Mr. Bent- ham told me) for having so many children, as he, young M., would have them all to support, if any thing should happen. I would cut adrift, said I. Ah how how hey, hey? I would remonstrate with him; I would say to him, you are making a prisoner of me, you are destroying my utility I would leave him. Here Mr. B. interrupted me Well, well no matter for the speech now hard thing to say to a father. But the look was the thing it was a look almost of horror, at the bare idea of a son so dealing with his father; and this in England, where one child may be enough to keep a father poor ; this between a father and a son, who were the head-believers in utility ; this where both parties were always urging that population required checks, and always contriv- ing checks for it. For a long while I had been resolved not to go away, till I had put the philosopher in possession of a few facts, touching the behaviour of his servants, and particularly of the housekeeper, toward the few friends that occasionally called at the 'door; and espe- cially toward Miss F. Wright, who was a guest with 92 JEREMY BENTHAM. him for a few weeks. Having prepared to go to the continent in the course of a month, I took advantage of something that occurred one day, to tell him how the housekeeper behaved toward his two secretaries, who had grown up in the house. He grew thoughtful, and appeared to think that there was something else at bottom; but I avoided the enquiry, as he had over and over again begged me to speak to him, if they did not do whatever 1 desired, promptly and properly. For myself, I had nothing to complain of; though such was the general neglect of the servants, that I should have left him long before, without saying a word, but for my unwillingness to have him suppose that any thing on his part had altered my feelings to- ward him or his family. If 1 went, I must give a reason ; and if I gave a reason, it must be the true one. 1 had therefore stayed and stayed now under a belief that we were to go to Germany together, for I had promised to go with him, at the desire of Mr. Bowring, if his health should make it proper to go to the springs; now, with a view to finish a work for him, which I had been long occupied with it was nothing less than an abridged view of all the cases in Comyn's Digest, relating to the subject-matter of his code. This I completed before I went away, in lieu of editing a hundred pages or so of large duodecimo, letter-press, on Evidence. But although I mentioned all that appeared to me necessary, I found that un- less I told the whole truth, it would do little or no good. And why should I do this, at the risk of bring- ing about dissatisfaction between the master and the servant of thirty years' standing the one a man who would not be likely to find another to take her place ; the other a woman perfectly acquainted with all his habits ? Still, his friends his real friends, expected it of me. They were treated with rudeness par- ticularly the women ; and they knew that nobody would ever be his guest a second time. He ought to PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 93 know it; but they were afraid to tell him of it. I was going away; I was thought to have much influ- ence with him, and therefore on me, the ungracious duty appeared to be devolved by common consent. Soon after this, a good opportunity occurred. The woman, not satisfied with letting us ring for break- fast, or for any thing else we wanted, till our arms ached, had taught the other servants to disregard the bell. This I could not and would not bear; so the very first time I had occasion to ring a second time, I rung without stopping till they came. This brought up first a girl, who played a trick with our tea and then the housekeeper, who be -rated not only the secre- taries but myself, in the rudest manner. One would have thought her the mistress of a low country-tav- ern. I desired her to leave the room. She refused. I repeated my desire in the shape of an order; but in- stead of obeying me, she put her arms a-kimbo and plumped into a chair. Upon which I rose and told her, that if she did not instantly get up and walk out of the room as I bid her I would pitch her down the cellar- way, chair and all. She was a very stout, vulgar, strong woman; but I took hold of the chair, and she saw it give way. She was alarmed, probably on ac- count of what she had seen occur at our gymnasium in sight of her windows, and jumped up and I suc- ceeded, by putting my hand first on one shoulder and then on the other, in waltzing her out of the room without any further trouble. But my mind was now made up. I went straightway to Mr. Bentham, and told him that I was obliged to leave him, and why ; that after I was gone, she might be managed per- haps; at any rate I must go. He begged me to con- sider a little more, and wait till he had some alterna- tive to offer. I could not refuse; and the result satis- fied me, that if he lacked energy in trifles, he did not, in serious matters; for to him at his age, and with his habits of life, what could be much more serious 94 JEREMY BENTHAM. than the departure of an old, and I dare say faithful housekeeper ? But he was firm; having enquired into the facts from the two secretaries, who were present from the first to the last, and who were able to say much more than I could, about other misbehaviour to- ward myself, he gave her and the others immediately concerned, the choice of making a satisfactory apolo- gy to me, or of leaving his service that very day at four o'clock. The girl submitted, and was retained; the housekeeper said no and was sent off, though she had told him to his face, that if she was sent away, all the others were determined to follow. But none did follow; and the immediate consequence was such a thorough and satisfactory household-reform, that he used to thank me for the stand I took with a hearti- ness, which one who did not know the value of an old servant to such a master, would have thought cer- tainly disproportioned to the magnitude of the affair. It may not be uninteresting to add, that a sister suc- ceeded her ; and that after lying up in ordinary a couple of years or so, the old housekeeper herself has been re-instated, and that the reform appears to continue. From this time (August 2d), the philosopher in- stead of rising at 10, 11 and 12, got up at seven; had not taken coffee in bed for two years, he told me. Aug. 24th. To-day he writes a letter to Dr. Ma- culloch, which begins with ' May it please your Om- niscience' adding as he mentioned it to me, that benevolence was a rhyme for it ! I laughed at the idea of his knowing, or pretending to know, what a rhyme was, though like my friend Rembrandt Peale, he had procured a copy of Walker's Rhyming Dic- tionary, not (like Mr. P.) to make poetry with, but to assist him in some other part of his work. He fumbled about the letter, folded it wrong, and mut- tered ass ! I looked up, and he added, 1 don't mean you; and went on fumbling with a wafer, which as PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 95 all his fingers are thumbs, and every thumb a bit of India-rubber that doubles to the pressure, he could make nothing of. I saw that he was about to enclose it under cover to the duke of Athol, and being afraid he might so far outrage the established etiquette of the empire as to seal that also with a wafer, I asked him. He said no. I then observed, modestly enough, that I had sealing-wax. ' Marry, come up, 7 said he, * I've got sealing-wax as well as you.' These are things that made his pleasantry so delight- ful, so innocent, so child-like. ' Come, come,' he continued, ' I'll show sealing-wax with you, and he that has got most, shall take all.' Agreed, if you'll give me till to-morrow at eleven o'clock, when I have to get a new supply. ' No, I shan't give you any thing. No! not even a little time.' He prints well; and keeps a pen for that particular purpose; and another for directing letters to save time. This very day (Aug. 24), after going out to receive a small annuity, he trotted all the way from Fleet-street to Queen-Square Place, Westminster, a part of the way very fast not at all tired, though warm. Perhaps he did so to re-assure himself on the way back from a life-annuity office, of which he was the only surviv- ing annuitant of a particular age. Sept. 3, 1826. Mr. Bentham breakfasts to-day at 4i P. M.! Mr. Doane says, that he knew him once to sit down to breakfast after the clock struck five. The Philosopher, as any body may see by his writing, is a great lover of order. There is nothing indeed so remarkable for close and severe arrangement, even among the severe sciences, as a part of his works in French, and a part of his Constitutional Code. Yet, there is not a man on earth so practically regardless of order so many places for every thing has he, that he never knows where to find any thing. Whole days are spent in searching for what he has had, not 96 JEREMY BENTHAM. an hour previous in his hand. He is continually miss- ing some paper, which he knows not where to look for. P. S. I have known him breakfast repeatedly since, between half-past two and half-past three. One of the cleverest women I know, a sort of pet grand-baby of the philosopher, though they are not re- lated at all ; one who has been familiar with him for years, writes me to-day (Oct. 5) as follows. " God bless you for exalting me in my beloved grandpa's good graces. You can't think how dearly I do love him, Legislation and all that apart ; and yet if there ever was a woman peculiarly prone to love and admire a man for his public affections and pub- lic usefulness, I do say I am that she; and that I could not love a paragon of beauty, wit, and private kindness, if he looked on the good or ill-being of mankind with indifference, with scorn, or with anti- social feelings. Think of the divine old man grow- ing a sort of vetch in his garden, to cram his pockets with for the deer in Kensington-Garden. I remem- ber his pointing it out to me, and telling me the 'vir- tuous deer 7 were fond of it, and ate it out of his hand. I could have kissed his feet it was the feeling of a kind, tender-hearted, loving child." This anecdote of the "divine old man" was so like much that 1 knew to be true, much that I myself had observed in his treatment of animals, that I took the first opportunity to ask him if it was true. He did not know was inclined to believe it a mistake, for he never grew any thing for the virtuous deer ; but he used to carry bread and salt in his pocket for them whenever he went that way, and buns for the swans. Having bought a pig in a family-way, the gar- dener by his direction has just built her a neat house, and takes the greatest possible care of her (and, by the by, the gardener himself is a treasure he has been with Mr. B. nearly forty years, if I do not much mistake). Mr. B. visits her regularly every day, and PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 97 asks every body he meets to go and see her. She is taken out every day, and walked slowly round the garden for air; he has got attached to her, calls her an affectionate creature, determines that she shall not be killed, and promises with suitable gravity to pro- vide for her in his will. Elrick the gardener is to have so much a year as long as she lives That, says he, provides against accidental death you know, the ca- sualties that pork-flesh is heir to in seasons of scarcity. He always keeps a cat. The last, which on account of his gravity and blackness of coat he used to call the Reverend Doctor Lankhim (or some such name), and which he would never allow any body to call a cat, having died of old age, he walked three miles to see another pussy he had been told of by secretary D. He used to feed the Rev. Dr. L. with soup at the table, and after his death, tried for a long while to find a monkey to supply his place. A monkey among his papers! thought I it would be a daily edition of the story about Newton and his dog. Having heard of the jewelled mice, now exhibiting at the mechani- cal exhibition in the Haymarket, he has set his heart upon going thither although he does not go beyond the park railing of his garden 6nce a year. The mous- ies, as he calls them, with all the earnestness and tenderness of a child, were stuck all over with bril- liant gems, and ran about in a box, with a motion of the tail and a brisk whirl of the body every moment or two, so like life, that it was easier to suppose them alive and stuck over with jewels, than a bit of cun- ningly-contrived clock-work as they are. In the drawer of his table, he keeps a quantity of stale bread for his own use and that of the mousies. When he was in Russia he had a pet-bear; but the wolves got to him one cold night in the depth of win- ter, and stole a large part of his face. Mr. Bentham was inconsolable. 13 98 JEREMY BENTHAM. Oct. 6. He told me to-day that Mr. Bowring told him that Mr. Henry told him, that Wilmot Horton told him, that Mr. Secretary Peel told him, that Mr. Bentham was the only man in the country who knew any thing about codification. Very likely ! Henry was a man employed to collect evidence at the trial of the Queen,: He satisfied all parties ; and was then sent to Demerara and elsewhere on a like job for government, and is now on a commission for some judicial enquiry. Wilmot Horton is the real man, where Lord Bathurst is the nominal one, of the of- fice held by the latter. Mr. Bentham is delighted, and well he may be, with what he calls the signs of the times alluding to the efforts of Peel, Mr. Hum- phreys's book on real property, and the review thereof in the Quarterly, a government journal. He proposes to exhaust the subject of punning, which he looks upon as a matter of downright drudgery. But how ? By taking up the dictiona- ry, and punning through page after page to order. The best of it is, that he who never sees a verbal joke, nor a play upon words, is perfectly serious here. In his universal grammar, there is a chapter On style! This we find a most productive source of laughter. The very idea is enough Bentham on Style! PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 99 CHAPTER VI. Panopticon Magnificent Project Poetry Fun Bowring Management Hume Goes to a Pantomime A^ed Greek Mr. Gallatiri Style of Du- mont Dr. Johnson Boswell Voltaire Autumn Parallel between Bent- ham and Hobbes Biography, what ? Sully 's portrait. Nov. 13, 1826. To-day he entered into a detail of his magnificent project with regard to the Panopti- con-proprietorship, or contract-management propos- ed by him, and accepted by the government. I. He intended (out of the profits of the concern) to build a street from his house in Queen-Square Place, to the Abbey (Westminster-Abbey) with arcades and flower-pots, like a garden all the way on both sides the flowers when they faded to be taken away and their places to be supplied from the garden at Bat- tersea which was to be. II. There was to be an establishment with a Greek name to it of eight or ten acres, and a passage under ground from the Panop- ticon, for the secret delivery of women, whether rich or poor, the poor to wait on the rich, and the rich to pay for both. III. There was to be a slide by a rail- way for children and others from Battersea-reach to Westminster-Abbey, the height being proved equal to that of the tower with another Greek name for this. Now what will the reader say, when I add that all this and more might have been accomplished with a part of the probable profits which he would have derived from his scheme, had the British government held faith with him to say nothing of the improve- ment everywhere in the structure of prisons, the treat- ment of prisoners, the condition of society, and the melioration of law, which must have followed. Yet 100 JEREMY BENTHAM. such is the fact in this country we are already beginning to draw large resources from our states prisons and penitentiaries ; yet they are not well-ma- naged, nor well-built for the purpose, and the charges are ten-fold more than they ought to be, and would be on his plan, which so far as it has been adopted, has always been found to succeed. We in this coun- try are but beginning to do in a small way what he undertook to do in a large way forty years ago; that is, to convert our penitentiaries into productive manu- factories. Had he done this in England, with the number and ingenuity of their artisan-culprits, his wealth might soon have realised more than was hop- ed for i by the celebrated Thelusson, whose will has so long agitated the courts of his country ; nor would it be wise in our people to jeer at the philosopher for indulging in such a dream, so long as that other dream of the provident, wise, and cautious Franklin, with his compound interest, remains to be accomplished. (36) Nov. 10th. To-day in a letter he showed me to the President of Guatemala, he acknowledged that the Westminster Review has already cost him over and above the receipts, nearer four than three thousand pounds, that is, from about 15 to 20,000 dollars a goodly part thereof has gone to his friend Bowring for editorship. Nov. 15. Nothing was ever so delightful as the child-like pleasantry of this old man; walking to and fro in the ditch after dinner, singing, laughing, and repeating baby-stories and baby-verses. I must give another specimen of his real manner and real lan- guage. To-day he repeats a number of English- Greek verses verses in English that is, which pro- nounced in a certain way, sound like the verses re- peated by Sheridan on the floor of the British Par- (36) Franklin left funds to be forever managed by trustees the annual in- crease of which, after a certain period was to be appropriated to the laying out and establishing of roads, canals, and empires. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 1Q1 liament, as the residue of a Greek passage already quoted by another ; and for which, and the amazing aptitude of his memory, he was immediately compli- mented by his antagonist, who admitted the whole made against him, and by Fox, who valued himself and was valued by his friends for his Greek scholar- ship. One phrase I recollect. It was leg o' mutton, which being pronounced legorrSothon, made very beau- tiful Greek to the ear. Perhaps the reader may re- collect the Italian of his youth In pine tar is, In oak none is In mud eel is In clay none is Which barring the fact, that in Italian almost every word terminates in a vowel, has quite an Italian air. This over, he repeated to me a string of verses, which were once regarded as very severe beginning with Great Lord Frog To Lady Mouse At James's House Cock-o-my cary-she ! Or something near that, in such a way as to keep me laughing till my sides ached. You would have thought him the author with such a lugubrious so- lemnity were they trolled forth : and then to con- vince me that he could make poetry, and only for- bore out of mercy to Bowring and me, he gave me four lines, made the day before, on the return of Mr. C , the junior secretary, who had been ill for two or three weeks at the very time when he had a great press of matter to prepare for Guatemala. I had caught Mr. B. in the fact once before, to the extent of a couplet or so. Thus, A pretty chap to use my strap! said he of Richard, the senior secretary, in a moment of inspiration ; but here was a much more serious achievement. 102 JEREMY BENTHAM. Behold our Jack (37) In health come back The Lord be praised therefore. You that arc mete The song complete For I can go uo more. There, said he, I have spent a con'-siderable time on that (giving the word considerable, the pure yankee sound). Observe the words now Behold our Jack. in health come back, how rich in sentiment. This was irresistible, and more so when he begged me to observe how he had kept his eye on Sternhold and Hopkins ; and the best of the joke was that I hardly knew when he had finished, whether he was in fan or earnest. At tea, I entered the room, repeating the verses about great Lord Frog ; but repeating them falsely. Lord God, only think o' that ! said he, counterfeiting a terrible wrath ; you have left out the very pith and marrow of the song Great Lord Frog To Lady Mouse, Cockledum ho ! cockledum he ! Living at St. James's house (38) Cock o' my-cary-she ! After this, we had a short conversation about God- win, the prototype of Mr. Brown, the novelist. Mr. B. had liked his St. Leon, got very much interested in it ; but never saw so bad a style as that of Caleb Williams (39). Godwin would write begging let- ters to every body he knew and this, while he would have his bottle of wine or his pint of wine every day. (37) The secretary in question was named John Flovverden C. (38) The palace. (39) It is laughable there is no denying it to hear Jeremy Bentham be- rating the style of Godwin ; but perhaps the reader may be quite as much surprised to hear Godwin attack the style of another John Philpot Curran. Sir Jonah Barrington relates a story of Godwin being dreadfully pressed by Curran to say what he thought of a speech made by the latter. Since you will know, said Godwin, folding his arms and leaning b;ick in his chair, I really never did hear anything so bad as your prose except your poetry, my dear Curran. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 103 As I s;ot up to leave the table, he said something about Mary YVolstonecraft, who took it into her head to die one day. Ah so she did. I remember the fact, said I ; several other persons died about that time. Very true, as you say ; very true in the voice he kept to tell a story with, about a pompous divine who used to speak of 'most-admirable-barrel-cod,' as if he were reading a part of the church-service. On going away, he charged me to have a better memory another time, upon which I tried once more to repeat the verses about the frog; but the moment I came to the pith and marrow as he called it, the bur- then of cockledum-he cockledum-hb, he affected to lose all patience. Good God! it's enough to drive one mad. Cockledum ho cockledum he, will you never say it right ! I moved away, with as much gravi- ty as I could wear, and he seeming to be soothed, kept growling after me, Flesh and blood can't bear it ! And all this, I need not assure the reader, was no- thing but play, the play of a patriarch, whose eyes would not allow him to read, and whose mind requir- ed a simple and cheap relaxation. To others it may appear silly to me it was remarkably pleasant, for the old man's heart was before me, like the heart of a young child. Nov. 19. .To-day in a frolic he gives me a letter to the celebrated Dr. Armstrong, which, omitting a pas- sage, runs thus ' The bearer is a man of ***** in law and literature in the United States. 1 have had the advantage of his company as an inmate for about a twelvemonth past; and he has never to my know- ledge told lies or picked my pocket. He has some- thing to say to you. Yours, ever, JEREMY BENTHAM. Dr. Armstrong. P. S. I am using you very ill, by being so well as I am. But you are generous and will forgive me. We are cutting the ground from under you by gymnastics.' 104 JEREMY BENTHAM. To-day he receives a Chinese dictionary from Par- is to be opened for five minutes, and then laid aside forever. Dec. 22. To-day, he threw out his character to great advantage. Mr. Bowring, the philanthropist, was here and had a point to gain, requiring all his management. A Scotchman, editor of the Free-Press in Scotland, wanted to establish a free-press at Lon- don. I was curious to see how the affair would be managed on the part of the philanthropist; and the following is a record of the proceedings at table. Mr. Bowring began by cautiously lauding the editor, as they term it here ; saying that Hume and others were greatly interested in the project, and that he (the editor) improved exceedingly on acquaintance ; for himself he had no idea when he saw the man first that he had so much good in him ; that he had written a defence of Hume in the Morning Chronicle, signed Hampden ; that his motto (here was the clencher) was The greatest happiness of the greatest number. Ah, said Bentham, and so says Buckingham (of the Oriental Herald), all that and more The great- est happiness of the greatest number and thatybr the greatest length of time. This he uttered with a plea- sant though rather a satirical laugh. Here the poet grew more zealous and brave. Only 2000 were wanted: nearlv 1000 were already sub- */ / scribed. Place, the tailor, had sent the proposal to Beritham, without one word of remark. Bowring persevered. Bentham then said, Ah, but I am afraid that'll be a great injury to the Examiner, alluding to Hunt's free paper of that title, which Bowring was pledged to stand by. Bowring, wholly unprepared for this, turned away and affected to be busy wiping his spectacles with a handkerchief, though trying to recover from what was in fact an astounding blow. No injury to the Exami- ner, said he at last in a hurried way. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 105 How so ? asked Bentham quite seriously. Not the same class of readers, said Mr. Secreta- ry D. on Bowring's right, much to the relief of that gentleman, who took advantage of the hint forthwith, and went on to prove it with a Certainly, precisely not the same class of readers. Ah, oh but how can you tell that, when the paper is not published yet. Here was another knock-down, with the simple, straight-forward strength of a wise and powerful na- ture, anxious for the truth, and having no end to an- swer but that of truth. After hesitating awhile and considering over the soup, the poet added, but he knows by the connex- ion he has already. Ay ay but who can tell how it may be here- after ? So I said, quoth Bowring, and that was a rea- son (significantly) for not exerting myself with more zeal. Here I could not help interchanging a glance with the right hand secretary, who understood me I dare say, for he bit his lip. That cock wouldn't fight; and Bowring was now determined to win the day, by go- ing over. A daily paper I should think would not interfere, continued Mr. Bentham. My opinion is for a daily paper, answered Bow- ring. But we mustn't injure the Examiner. But the Examiner hardly supports itself now. There, there, that's the very reason; if this paper is set up, it. will finish it entirely. I could not help feeling delighted at the effect of Mr. Bentham's credulity and simplicity here; believ- ing every word he was told, yet turning it all upon the besieger piece by piece, like the guns and mor- 14 106 . JEREMY BENTHAM. tars of a battering train, as fast as they were brought up. Mr. Bentham has no objection whatever to be known to the world precisely as he is. I frequently amuse him for a moment or two by imitating some of his peculiarities of speech, walk and gesture ; and he has actually invited Matthews to dine with him, be- cause I have thought a true Bentham on the stage by Matthews, would be well received by the public. He regards it as a sitting for a picture a live-picture of himself, and is tickled at the idea; and I am sure would be one of the first to go and see it, and laugh at it with the multitude. Dec. 29, 1 {526. To-day we have Mr. Hume the Scotch financier, who is so remarkable for his penny-wise and pound-foolish economy, that between parliaments he will not take out a letter from the office, unless the postage is paid. Money, remitted by his tenants or steward, has frequently lain a long while for him, and in some cases travelled through the general post-of- fice before he received it. Speaking of the king of Bavaria, Mr. Bentham said he wanted to send him something. Mr. Hume offered to give it to the Dutch ambassador ; adding that he had sent a letter lately through the home post-office to His majesty the king, to make sure he would get it and received an answer through Mr. Peele. Did you pay the post- age ? said Bentham. Pay the postage ! with a laugh, king's own post. Jan. 9, 1H27. Mr. Bentham has concluded to publish the review of Humphreys in the Westminster Review. I am sorry for it ; and if Bowring would say to him what he says to me, it would not be done. At last it appears, but in such a way as to stir the Philosopher's bile it comes out in the proof headed Supplement. He speaks to Bowring, who denies all agency in the matter, calls it a mistake of the printer, (And a mis- take of the printer it probably was in sending a proof PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 107 with that word in it), and will order it to be struck out. Mr. Bentham sends a secretary to see the print- er, still without any suspicion of the trick, and the print- er tells him that the obnoxious word is left out in Mr. Bentham's copy and a few more though not in the work. Very droll, says Bentham when he hears it ; very odd, and laughs. No sort of suspicion yet. Suppose it was forgot, he adds after a while. No, says the secretary, that cannot be, for the press is stopped. * # * * * * # Mr. Bentham dreams that he is in a pit ; and at last, he takes it into his head, though asleep, that he is dreaming, and says to himself this will never do, I must wake myself up. He begins to bawl, and final- ly does wake himself. ****** On Friday Mr. Bowring assured him that the West- minster Review would be out certainly on Monday next. This morning (Saturday) the Morning Chro- nicle, on his authority, says Thursday next. Bow- ring must have left the advertisement as he passed up to dine with the proprietor, to whom he said it would appear on Monday. At any rate, he had finished the notice before, else it could not have ap- peared this morning. Jan. 30. When Mr. B. was young he had a pro- pensity for hysteric laughter. Being in church one day he heard the clergyman address the Deity thus, Thou oh God, who alterest all events at thy pleasure, he burst out a laughing and was obliged to withdraw. Some years after, it occurred to him, that probably the preacher had said, O Thou who orderest instead of alterest all events. Mr. George Bentham, his nephew, has great diffi- culty in preventing the benevolent old man from sending the letter of a grand-niece Adele, a child of six years old, to Mr. Peele : it contains about eight 108 JEREMY BENTHAM. lines very clever for a child ; but only think of its being sent to a minister of the British empire. Mr. B. has a wonderful sensitiveness, not only about the equal distribution of roast-mutton gravy ; but about eating pies in a certain way, with equal and fair proportions of crust and soft. There, there now, he would cry out; you are bound to cut it so. Yet he never has a pie to himself; but takes out a little bit of this, and a little bit of that, so that when he dined at his brother's, every pie came up with a little piece cut out. He is tickled to death at a pantomime, though he contends that the classical purity of pantomime is dreadfully outraged now ; the ' lean and slippered pantaloon' being the cleverest fellow there, except the clown, who is sure to beat Harlequin all hollow. It was'nt so in his youth. To-day, Feb. 8 we have persuaded him to see Kean in Sir Giles Overreach. Mr. B.'s criticisms were delightful Kean appeared to him to be very ill-made no calves and the language of the play what nobody ever talked. When the great actor came to the passage, where, having occasion to say that he is ' moved as the moon is, when wolves do whine and howl at her,' he actually how-ow-owls, and whi-i-ines out the words, I looked at Bentham, who appeared to enjoy it as capital fun. But the hour of real enjoyment had not arrived. There was a pantomime to be played the Man in the Moon ; with this he was pleased delighted save as I have mentioned before, where it violated the truth of his- tory Pantaloon being a worthy and staid old man, the clown a clown. Here the old man and the clowns are most active Tissue of misrepresentations can't abide it, said he, as we prepared to come away ; Pantaloon a worthy old gentleman, yet he is as ac- tive as the best of them ; no plot neither ; would give five times as much (quite seriously) to see it PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 109 done with truth. On this occasion his two nieces were with him the daughters of Gen. Sir Samuel Bentham ; they had not been together, till within a week or two, for many years ; nor had he and his brother had any intercourse for many a year. The meeting was delightful to every body that knew the circumstances their hearts were all running over to- gether. Nov. 13. He saw Mrs. Siddons's first appearance : it was in Portia, 29th Dec. 177i> she made her se- cond appearance at London, on the 10th of Oct. 1782, in Isabella. Feb. 1 3th. To-day a filthy middle-aged Greek, very learned and clothed Ifke a beggar, who had been here twice before, with a Greek letter to Mr. Bentham, which could not be received, as the writer spoke no- thing but a barbarous lingua-franca, German, Italian and modern Greek all jumbled together, now comes to me w^ith a letter in Greek, translated into English, saying that the servant or secretary of Mr. B. had ill treated him as a learned man, and misrepresented him 10 the respectable Mr. Bentham as a beggar and impos- tor : that he had been travelling two years on the con- tinent to see the face of the respectable Mr. Bentham ; and if Mr. Bentham would not see him, he prayed him to write a line to say that he had received the letter. I sent the letters up to Mr. B. and entertain- ed the Greek with French, Spanish, Pantomime, and Yankee ; during which I satisfied him that Mr. Bentham w r as 80 instead of 40, that Bowring was not his brother, (Bowrin' este frati Bentam?) and that there was no MadnmeBenthamio my knowledge, along with some other matters. At last the object of his two years travail appeared his white hair comb- ed smooth, his whole countenance glowing with good- nature and humanity. The Greek rose at his ap- proach, and doubled himself up, and the colour flash- ed over his swarthy face, and he appeared vehement- ly affected. The philosopher put forth his hand cor- 1 1 JEREMY BENTHAM. dially and hailed him in old Greek. The modern re- plied. Bentham was all at sea, he had got the whole length of his tether speaking and reading were two very different matters : he began to withdraw ; giving the stranger as he moved away a little scrap of paper, and showing him that he had received the Greek let- ter, which he then held open before him. I was de- lighted ; for the paper that Mr. Bentham gave him with his own hand was to say that he could not see him. It ran thus. My time is taken up with the public. I have none to spare upon individuals none to gratify the curiosity of individuals however worthy they may be. Seeing would be no use without con- versing, and conversing would take time. A part are the very words of the writer, a part are perhaps varied a little in expression. Bentham nicht capisco Grceca antica, was one of the first phrases that dropped from the mouth of our learned Theban. 15th Feb. 1827. Birth-day of the philosopher : low- spirited for the first time since I have known him; says and believes he shall not live to see another ; observed to-day for the first time that his knees give away under him in walking he started and is real- ly sad. N. B. got over it entirely in two days. At the table, when we drank his health, Bowring threw ofT an impromptu-toast May the pilgrim-age Of the white-haired sage Of Queen-Square Place Be a long long race. I had been playing at Angelo's fencing-rooms, and remarked as I sat down to dinner, heartily fatigued with the display There, I have beaten all the good players now ! And all the bad ones have beaten you, hey ? said the secretary on my right. That's the reason they're bad, quoth the white-haired sage. I saw now that his spirits were up again, his jokes on the alert. Having asked him what was the age of PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 1 1 1 somebody he spoke of, he answered with affected petulance, age age age of every body else. Here noodle, said he to me a moment afterwards, with an- other joke in his eye. What d'ye call him a noodle for, said the secretary. Because he's a Yankee-doo- dle, said the philosopher. A capital reason faith, said I it reminds me of Matthews' story about the water- man who insisted on knowing why he was called so. Vi, said coachee, don't you open the coach-door, you fool ? Vi, so I does answered the waterman, perfect- ly satisfied. So with you. You call me A. because I am B. No no, said he not so fast young man, not as you know on it's only a more civil way of saying so. Every day he has one secretary employed in mak- ing long extracts from the Morning-Chronicle, though he takes the paper itself, and has had slips along with the paper there's economy for you ! Wants extra copies. Why ? How can I tell what I may want, he says. March 15, 1827. To-day Mr. Gallatin, who is a native as every body knows of Geneva, spoke to me of his townsman and old associate, Durnont. Burr, (whom he called an ambitious man, with a shrug and a smile) gave him, in 1793, the first work of Bentham's to read which he had ever met with : it was the English quarto on Morals and Legislation, saying, Here, this will please you ; it is too dry for me. Since which Mr. G. had read every thing of B.'s except some of his last works, which he could not get. I spoke of M. Dumont and of his eloquent vagueness. He agreed with me. Dumont, he said, was remarkable for style ; he wrote many or most of Mirabeau's celebrated speeches he takes the thoughts of another and turns them into language. When they were both young men, (G. and D.) they belonged to the same literary society, and it was ob- served that Dumont's essays were always remarkable both for vagueness and eloquence. I spoke of the od- 1 1 2 JEREMY BENTIIAM. dity of Dumont's remarks on vagueness, declamation, poetry, &c. after Bcntham that is, copying the ideas from Bentham, whose notions were evidently as un- like his, about style, poetry, &c. as any body's could be. Mr. Gallatin laughed and said Mr. Bentham had always charged M. Dumont with having castrated him. At the Johnson's Club, a club that met and paid 10s. 6d. each for a dinner to hear Dr. Johnson talk, Mr. Bentham got heartily tired of his arrogance. Did you ever happen to see his biographer ? said I. No : but he was pointed out to me one day in the street I did not see him. Here followed a story about Boswell waiting behind after dinner, instead of going to the drawing-room for tea, and taking ad- vantage of the absence of others, to empty the bot- tles that were left, Burgundy, Champaign, &c. Beat- tie, the moralist, was a drunkard also! In Boswell some allusions are made to it, in a delicate way. About a month ago, I suggested to Mr. B. the pro- priety and advantage of dictating his life to an aman- uensis, every evening after tea. It would be so much time saved, and after his death money would come of it to his heirs, and profit to the world. He received a letter urging it, about the same time. He said no not an hour to give up. His nephew and I pressed him still further as it could not interfere with his time, and his style in familiar narrative was free, and rough, and peculiar, like old port. To-day, Mr. Bow- ring is at work, it will be a legacy to him therefore ; he gives up two evenings a week for it. M. Dumont, who was accustomed to the fare of Holland-House, used to say that Mr. B. gave radical dinners. The philosopher did not much like it he thought it 'not very judicious.' March 26th. A letter W 7 as written about a w r eek ago, says , to be made use of with Mr. S. the rich and public-spirited banker, averring that Bentham was already out of pocket 3700 for the Westminster PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 1 1 3 Review, and that it could not go on another year without an advance of 1000 ; 500 of which Bow- ring the patriot, the philanthropist and the friend of Bentham was to have in his threefold capacity. (40) To-day we had a capital scene between secretary D. and Mr. P. the solicitor of Warwickshire. P. wanted to pump D. ; but D. wouldn't be pumped. Mr. Bentham had observed one day to P., that he had once done something for Voltaire while he was alive, which if he and Voltaire had met, would have made them well acquainted ; after which he alluded to a magazine published sixty years ago. This magazine our indefatigable friend P. forthwith hunted up; and lo! the White-Bull of Voltaire, translated into English, appeared. Mr. G. B., the nephew, spoke to me of the same thing one day; but I had then no idea, nor had he from what I said, that the pumping, the march- ing and the countermarching, between D. and P. were on account of the same thing. Yesterday the codifier got upon the very subject of the Taureau Blanc; laughed heartily himself, and made us laugh heartily with his remarks about the story and the de- sign of the translator. There were the prophets, my namesake among the rest, said he; they were all turned into magpies, and the best of the joke was (laughing all the while), they kept on just as if no- thing had happened. The wittiest work ! (Throw- ing up his eyes and shaking his head slowly.) There was the witch of Endor, the whale, and the serpent, and the prophets. April 4. Mr. B. relates a story of Blackstone, to be repeated in Yankee-land. * As early as sixteen,' said he, ' I began to query Blackstone, my Gama- liel, while I was sitting at his feet. He was a stiff, (40) These things ought never to be passed over. Mr. Bentham threw away 700 on the establishment of a Gymnasium, which so long as it pros- pered, one would have thought was the joint project of the philosopher and the poet; when it failed however, utterly failed it proved to be the loss of th former alone. If) 114 JEREMY BENTHAM. pompous, proud quiz Mansfield couldn't bear him. I told you, I believe, that he, M., had the whole of the Fragment read to him, and liked it mightily. When Blackstone wasVinerian professor at Queen's College, Oxford, he sent to Dr. Brown, provost of the college, to know what distinction should be awarded to him, or how he should be ranked. Tell him, said Brown who was a shrewd fellow, tell him he may walk be- fore my beadle, the beadle that preceded him with a mace, when he walked out. Mr. Eden (the writer on penal law), afterwards Lord Ackland, and Black- stone did something together once which Bentham approved. (41) Out of this g*ew something of Mr. Bentharn's, about which Blackstone wrote him, com- plimenting him rather highly. And now I have done with this part of the familiar biography of the extraordinary man, whose language, manner, and peculiarities of speech, look and thought, I have tried to preserve a record of. Other things I might mention, but they would be out of place now and here. The reader of old-English biography how- ever, cannot fail to perceive a startling resemblance at times between the author of the Leviathan, Hobbes, and the author of Morals and Legislation. Many oth- er points of resemblance might be mentioned ; but it may be sufficient to indicate a few, most of which are already referred to, leaving the reader to make a book for himself out of the materials here furnished to his hand. Mr. Bentham is so afraid of death, that he will not allow the subject to be discussed before him he is afraid of being alone after dark; he is either read to sleep every night, or left to fall asleep with a lamp burning; and he is a believer in what he calls ghosts ; that is, in a something which makes him uneasy in solitude after dark. (41) They were the originators of the Hard-Labour Bill, which led to his View of the Hard-Labour Bill. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 115 So with the author of the Leviathan. He was sub- ject to occasional terrors ; he ' could not bear to be left alone in an empty house: he could not even in his old age bear any discourse of death, and seemed to cast off all thoughts of it. He could not bear to sleep in the dark ; and if his candle happened to go out in the night, he would awake in terror and amaze- ment.' (42) And 'on the Earl of Devonshire's re- moval from Chatsworth, the philosopher, then in a dying state, insisted on being carried away, though on a feather-bed. Various motives have been suggested to account for this extraordinary terror. Some declar- ed he was afraid of spirits.' ' The terrible enemy of nature, death, is always before him.' (43) As a talker, though not often as a writer, Mr. Bent- ham is very dogmatic; and very much of an egotist; but still, it is an agreeable sort of dogmatism, and the pleasantest, the best-founded, and the most excusable egotism I ever met with. So with Hobbes. ' His greatest imperfection was a monstrous egotism the fate of those who concen- trate all their observations into their own individual feelings. There are minds w r hich think too much, by conversing too little with books and men. Hobbes ex- ulted he had read little, and was a solitary man.' So does Mr. Bentham ' Hence he always saw things in his own way. 7 ' He wrote against dogmas with a spirit perfectly dog- matic. He liked conversation peevishly referring to his own works whenever contradicted ; and his friends stipulated with strangers that they should not dispute with the old man.'' Mr. Bowring often does this, after having persuaded Mr. Bentham to see them; or if he does not stipulate to this effect, he himself is careful never to dispute with Mr. Bentham, and usually hints as much to others. ' Selden has often quitted (42) Dick on the Future State. (43) D'Israeli. 116 JEREMY BENTHAM. the room of Hobbes or Hobbes been driven from it in the fierceness of their battle.' The very same thing may be said of Mr. Mill, the author of British- India, and of some others, during their intercourse with Mr. Bentham. Yet no man is readier to forget and forgive but he cannot talk, he says ; and they who can, get the advantage of him. Another resemblance may be found in their great age, and greater industry. Hobbes ' delighted to show he was living by annual publications. His health and his studies were the sole object of his thoughts ; and notwithstanding that panic which so often disturbed him, he wrote and published beyond his ninetieth year.' So with Mr. Bentham he is now upwards of eighty ; continually occupied with new works, in bet- ter health, and in a fuller enjoyment of life now than he was ten years ago. Now, before the reader throws away the character of Jeremy Bentham, as it appears of record in the preceding pages, I pray him to go over the whole for a few minutes in his own mind, and say whether after all, such anecdotes are not of a thousand times more worth to the understanding of a great man's nature, than the most able and eloquent panegyric in the world. Plutarch is no favourite of mine ; yet his touches of characters appear inimitable even to me. Agesilaus astride of a stick ; Alexander swallowing the medi- cine to show his faith in human virtue ; Philopoemen cutting wood in the kitchen of his host ; Alcibiades letting off the bird in a public assembly or cropping the tail of his beautiful dog ; Epaminondas working as a scavenger ; Aristides writing his name upon the shell these are the true men, the live men of history. ' La physionomie ne se montre pas dans les grands traits, ni le caractere dans les grandes actions ; c'est dans les bagatelles que le naturel se decouvre,' says Rousseau, prefatory to the following anecdote and the following observation about familiar biography. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 117 * Turenne was incontestably one of the greatest men of the last age. I will give one anecdote of him which I have on good authority, ' et que Plutarque n'eut eu garde d'omettre, mais que Ramsai (the Bio- grapher of Turenne) n'eut eu garde d' ecrire quand il 1'aurait su.' ' Un jour d' etc qu'il faisait fort chaud, le vicomte de Turenne, en petite veste blanche et en bonnet, etoit a la fenetre dans son antichambre : un de ses gens survient, et trompe par 1'habillernent, le prend pour un aide de cuisin avec lequel ce domestique etoit fa- milier. II s'approche doucement par-derriere, et d'une main qui n'etoit pas legere lui applique un grand coup sur les fesses. L'homine frappe se retourne a 1'instant. Le valet voit en fremissant le visage de son maitre. II se jette a genoux tout eperdu. Mon- seigneur fai cru que c* etoit George. Et quand c'eut cte George s'ecrie Turenne en se frottant le derriere, il nefaltait pas f rapper si fort, Voila done ce que n'osez dire ces miserables !' continues the eloquent Rousseau, 'the apostle of affliction.' ' Soyez done a jamais sans naturel, sans entrailles ; trempez, durcissez vos coeurs de fer dans votre vile decence, rendez-vous me- prisables a force de dignite.' It is by these things and by these things only that we are brought acquainted with men, as men ; but biographies are intended to make us acquainted with the men (44) their works are enough to show (44) Without referring to the pompous biographies that encumber the table of every English scholar, I may allude to the biography of Johnson by Boswell. Who would not forgive the gossip and childishness to be found there, in consi- deration of the truth upon which, as upon a texture of fine gold, the rest of the ' work is wrought ? To state such a question, you would suppose were to answer it. But such is not the opinion of the lettered or the exceedingly wise of our earth. No they stand upon their dignity. And they would have other people stand upon theirs. They are believers in the maxim, that Familiarity breeds con- tempt and are afraid, if they encourage familiar biography, of being treated in the same way after their death. Says M. Palissot, the editor of Voltaire, in his IVfcmoires sur la litterature, while speaking of Helvetius and his editor, L'au- teuj de cette preface, qui parait tris-attache non-seulement a la personne d' Helvttius, mais a ses opinions, aurait pu se dispenser, d'y placer quelques fails qu'on est tente de revoquer en doute par egard pour la memoire de cet homme celBbre. Est-il bien avere, par example que ce philosophe ait danse pub- liquement d I' opera, sous le nom ct le masque de, Javilfier, et qu'il ait ete 118 JEREMY BENTHAM. their philosophy and their science. A book might be made in the shape of a review or a laboured ana- lysis of Jeremy Bentham's works, but who would read it? I prefer letting him speak for himself; and therefore, having introduced him to the read- er, and set them down to the same table toge- ther, I shall leave Mr. Bentham by the help of Mr. Dumont, to show the vastness and the strength and the beauty of his understanding as a legislator and a philosopher, in his own way. P. S. The outline portrait of Mr. Bentham, here- with offered to the public, is engraved from a very faithful and spirited sketch from life, by Mr. Robert M. Sully, a Virginian of great promise, nephew to Mr. T. Sully, now of Philadelphia. Mr. Bentham sat to him in the year 1827 : but Mr. S. did not suc- ceed so entirely with the portrait as I could have wished. To gratify me however, he took a sketch one day as they were together. From that sketch left by me in the hands of the family, a copy was traced by the secretary of Mr. B. from which copy the engraving is made. It is altogether very strik- ing and characteristic ; and will be observed to bear a considerable resemblance to Dr. Franklin, a bust of whom, by the way, is now in the possession of Mr. Mill, the father, which was sent to him by a friend at Paris, on account of its surprising resemblance to Mr. Bentham. applaudi, comme ce danseur avait coutume de I'&tre. Helvetius jeune aurait-il ete capable de la mgrne folie ? c'est ce que nous nous garderons bien d'affirmer, et ce qui, en supposant le fait vrai, etait pen digne d'entrer dans rhistorie d'un philosophe. Such is the opinion of a dignified writer, of one who thinks a philosopher will not bear to have the truth told of him. Such a writer would scruple to record the story of the chicken that somebody ate for Sir Isaac Newton, the hole for the large cat and the hole for the small one he had cut in the door ; and peradventure the fall of the apple or the blowing of the soap-bubbles. How much of human nature would be discover- ed by the successful result of such a frolic as we have recorded here of Hel- vetius. To be mistaken by the French people on the boards of a French opera for their chief dancer, on account of the mask and the part what was it but a magnificent experiment on their most familiar propensities ? PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 119 CHAPTER GET UTILITY. THE CREATES T-H APPINESS PRINCIPLE.' THE most extraordinary notions are abroad respect- ing UTILITY, and the followers of Utility the UTILI- TARIANS ; the former being seldom alluded to with- out a sneer, and the latter never. The very name is enough. To call a man a Utilitarian what is it but to call him by a very odd name ? And what are odd names good for but to be laughed at ? A short history of the sect, and of their faith, ac- companied by a few remarks on what, both are be- lieved to be, and represented to be, by those who are not acquainted with either, may not be out of place, nor uninteresting here. JEREMY BENTHAM is the head of a party who have adopted the name of Utilitarians. I also am of that faith although not of the party ; for some of their doctrines I do not subscribe to, and a few of the practices, and ' teachings, particularly of certain of the more youthful among them, are absolutely hate- ful in my eyes, and worthy of punishment by law. But, nevertheless, I am a Utilitarian, to the full extent of what I understand by the word Utili- ty, or by the motto above ' The greatest happiness principled To that law I suffer no exception : I re- cognize no duties, no rights in opposition to it. I preach Bentham heartily and without qualification so far. I do not stop half way, with the late president Adams, who in speaking of the institutions of Lycur- gus, the Spartan lawgiver, says, But as a system of 120 ON UTILITY. Legislation which should never have any other end than the greatest happiness of the greatest number SAVING TO ALL THEIR RIGHTS, it was not only the least re- spectable, but the most detestable of all Greece.' I do not say, ' The greatest happiness of the greatest number saving to all their rights No ! for I ac- novvledge no rights that can interfere with the great- est happiness of the greatest number none whatever, not even that ' of life, liberty, and the pursuit of hap- piness' to borrow the awkward, and either very un- meaning or very untrue phraseology of most of our constitutions. If it be better for the greatest happi- ness of the greatest number that a man should die, whoever he may be, and whatever he may be, cut him off" without mercy. And so with his liberty, and so with his property. But have a care be certain that it will promote the greatest happiness of the greatest number, before you do so ; ay, before you cut off the greatest criminal that walks the earth ; before you spoil the highway-robber of his liberty, or deprive him of his property. Here is a rule of conduct which never can deceive us though, to be sure, it may give to a bad man. here and there, an outward justification for misbeha- viour ; just as every other great truth may. And so far it may be called, what the chief adversary of Bent- ham called it, nearly fifty years ago, ^'dangerous doc- trine. B pa<;e 25. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 147 that he and others deserve punishment; for such doc- trines, so taught now, would be productive undoubt- edly of ten thousand times more evil than good. What would be the pleasure of a few, to the corrup- tion of the whole body of society? But enough. To Jeremy Bentham we are indebted for the establishment of the sect of Utilitarians, and for setting forth the whole ground-work of their sublime and simple faith so clearly and so energetically, that people are converted every day by merely reading over his chapter on Utility. They who have per- verted the doctrine or departed from it as above, though of the sect of Utilitarians, are not in justice to be regarded as the lawful expounders of their faith. Utilitarians they may be ; but in such things their doctrine is not the doctrine of the founder, nor of a thousandth part of his followers. 148 M. DUMONT. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF M. DUMONT, OF GENEVA. M. DUMONT, the editor of ten large octavo vo- lumes in French, selected from the manuscripts of Mr. Bentham, was born and educated at Geneva. He was remarkable at an early age for what is re- membered now as an eloquent style ; and a contem- porary of his youth ( 1 ) has been heard to declare, that Dumont was remembered by him as the sayer of beautiful and vague things. It is known too that he either wrote some of the discourses delivered by Mi- rabeau, or furnished him with the materials. ( 2 ) He (1) Albert Gallatin. (2) Same and Dr. Vaughan, of Hallowell, Maine. All which is abundantly confirmed by the acknowledgment of M. J. C. L. de Sismondi, in a Biographi- cal Memoir of M. Dumont, just published at Paris in the Revue Encyclopedique. I quote from a translation, which appeared in the Boston Advertiser of Feb. 10th; and refer also to the National Gazette of Jan. 9, 1830, where substan- tially the same thing is said. ' The fermentation of minds which was excited by the French revolution, brought him to Paris in the year 1789. He took too lively an interest in the progress of intelligence and the dignity of human nature not to wish to watch closely the greatest effort which a nation has ever made to reach the most noble end. Already illustrious from his talents, bril- liant in his mind, he was soon called to associate himself with the men, who were selected for their strength and intelligence to direct the destinies of France, and who knew how to appreciate that of Dumont. Mirabeau seized by a sort of intuition the most important political questions, but he was too much dis- tracted by his passions, and revolted at labour; for this reason he was often seen to appropriate to himself studies which he had not made, and to lay his friends under contributions for researches and even for ideas. One day he was conversing with Dumont in the anti-room of the constituent assembly, a pro- found remark escaped the latter on the subject which was then under debate Mirabeau was struck with the idea, and springing to the tribune, ' I have said, long since,' said he, and repeated word for word what he had just heard from the mouth of his friend. Each had so rich a fund of his own, that the plagi- arism only caused a laugh. It is asserted that the famous address of the king, proposed by Mirabeau, July 9, 1789, to obtain the sending back of the troops, was composed by Dumont. They undertook together a journal. The Courier of Province, designed to develope and render popular the new doctrines; and, as was likely to happen in such a partnership, the most assiduous as well as the most important labour fell upon Duinont.' flismondi. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 149 afterwards betook himself to the church, and though Mr. Bentham told me that M. Dumont was never a lawyer, and that he was never able to understand the course of law-procedure in England, I have always thought he must have pursued the study of law some- where, and the idea is supported by the following words, taken out of a passage in his Traite des Preuves Judiciares, p. 136, vol. ii. * Depuis qitc fai suivi noire tribunal a Geneve, 'fai vu, J Sfc. 8,'c. I shall not attempt any thing more than a biogra- phical sketch of M. Dumont; for my materials are too much scattered, and most of them require to be authenticated. To those who know nothing of his life or character, it may be gratifying however to hear, that he W 7 as distinguished not only as a writer, but as a speaker ; and that while he was in England, he became celebrated as a reader ; ( 3 ) so much so, that after being employed as a tutor, in the family of the Marquis of Lansdowne, he received a pension of four hundred pounds in the way of a clerkship, which pension was afterwards augmented to five hun- dred pounds, equal to about twenty-four hundred dol- lars of our money, under pretence of rewarding him for the labour he had bestowed on the works of Bent- ham. This being the character and these the pursuits of our editor, the wonder is how he ever came to relish the works of a man so remarkable for severity of thought and exactness of language as the author of the Treatise on Punishments and Rewards ; how he ever had the patience to go through with such a pile (3) In giving an account of the Clubs of London, a writer of the day says, that among the most frequent attendants, were ' Scarlet, Sam Rogers, the "Pleasures of Memory" Rogers, honest John Allen, brother of the bluest of blues (Lady Mackintosh) , M. Dumont, a French emigrant of distinction, the friend and correspondent of the Abbe de Lisle, (author of Les Jardins,) whose verses he was somewriat apt to recite, with most interminable perseverance, in spite of yawns, and other symptoms of dislike, which his own politeness (for he was a highly-bred man) forbade him to interpret into the absence of it in others ' 150 M. DUMONT. of manuscript as he did the most difficult manu- script I ever saw ; mostly in a foreign tongue, (4) and all upon subjects entirely new ; and how, consid- ering the light under which Mr. Bentham was viewed in his native country, M. Dumont ever had the cour- age to persevere as he did. But, on reading his Bent- ham, a part of these perplexities disappear. You find the severity of Bentham's reasoning kept under, the philosophy thereof abridged, the logic subdued, the vigour and amplitude and exactness put aside for something more palatable. Throughout the work, wherever the hand of M. Dumont appears at all, you detect the beautifying, enervating spirit of the de- claimer, and the sophist. And if you read over the preface, written wholly by himself, and called a PRE- LIMINARY DISCOURSE, you will see how far, and in what way his mind is incapable of grappling with the subjects treated of by Bentham. To know all this however, one must be familiar with Bentham in English. I am. I have read all his works. I have studied most of them ; and I know instantly where M. Dumont has interposed, though it were to say nothing, but only to prevent his author from saying too much. Yet to M. Dumont are we deeply indebted. He has made the works of Bentham what they never would have been, but for the order he has reduced them to, and the excellent style in which they are served up he has made them popular throughout Europe. In France they have published three edi- tions of three thousand copies each, of the work al- luded to in the following discourse. It appears in (4) The Theory of Punishments and Rewards was written in French by Mr. Bentham; and for reasons already referred to. The truth is, that Mr. Bentham having arranged the work in his own head, grew nervous when he thought of writing it in a language the imperfections of which were forever obtruding themselves upon his eye. If he did it in English, he saw that he should never be satisfied with it a finished work must be made of it or nothing. In French however a drawing would do a mere outline a sketch; and therefore he left his own language and betook himself to another. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. lol three large volumes, and has never been offered to the public in English. I was occupied with it at onr; time, and preparations were made for bringing it forth in London while I was there; but owing to cir- cumstances not necessary to be related here, I threw it up. Of the other works edited by M. Dumonl, several editions have appeared; and as most of those who would be likely to purchase them in England, are able to read French, if nothing more ; and as the French work would not cost, imported into England, more than a third as much as the same work would cost in English, there has been hitherto a considera- ble sale of the French editions in England. M. Dumont is still at Geneva, enjoying the pension allowed him by the British government, and occa- sional! v brino'ins; out new editions of these invaluable / O O books. (/>) Since the above was prepared, I have obtained from authority which is not to be questioned, the following- particulars concerning M. Dumont. I give it in the very language of the writer, of whose familiar and half-colloquial style it is eminently characteristic. ' Mr. Bentham on his return from his travels in February 17H8, found M. Dumont domiciliated in Lansdowne house. He had then been a year or two in England ; he was a citizen of Geneva ; his father and family had emigrated from thence to Peters- burgh, where his father was court-jeweller. Du- mont, Stephen, with the addition of some others, was his Christian name, had been bred to the church. At Petersburgh he became highly distinguished as a pulpit orator. About the year 17116, Col. Isaac Barre, having become blind, had need of a companion to read to him; to occupy this situation, Dumont repair- ed from Petersburg to London. Barre was one of (;")) Sine.; this \v;is written, the death of M. Dnniont is announced in the journals of F.nroj" 1 . :-><. a Biographical Memoir of him in u ^ubsequeat page of ihis work. 152 M. DUMONT. the two most confidential friends of Lord Lansdowne in the house of commons. Lord Lansdowne was the head of a party, and for somewhat less than a year, in the years 1782 and 1783, had been prime minister. How it happened, that from Col. Barre's house Du- mont passed into the Marquis of Lansdowne's family, is not remembered. Lord Lansdowne had tw r o sons, one by his first wife, aged about twenty-three, who suc- ceeded him in the marquisate,but though married, died childless; the other, by his second wife, is the present Marquis, aged at that time nine years. The notion is, that Dumont was looked to, by him, as qualified to take a part in the education of the youngest, at least, of these sprigs of nobility, and that for this purpose Barre, who owed every thing to his patron, was in- duced to give his consent to the transference. Lord Lansdowne had been placed in the army, where he served w r ith distinction, in the seven years' war, and formed his connexion with Col. Barre. The literary, as well as every other part of his education, had either been neglected or misconducted. While yet a subaltern, it happened to him to be quartered in some obscure country town, where he found no soci- ety from which he could receive either improvement or amusement. Books, of some sort or other, there were in the town, and to these he was driven as the sole resource that he found open to him. To this in- cident he was indebted for that love of literature, and fondness of the society of literary men, by which he became so distinguished from his rivals. In the year 1776, came out Mr. Bentham's first work, the > Fragment on Government.' In the spring of 178 1, the Earl of-Shelburne called upon him to express his admiration of the work, and to solicit the acquaintance of the author. The acquaintance ripen- ed into a close intimacy. In the year 1781 or 1782, the greatest part of Mr. Bentham's work entitled, 'Introduction to the Theory of Morals and Legisla- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 153 tion,' being in print, was put by him into Lord Shel- burne's hands. The ' Fragment' had been read by his lordship with a degree of enthusiasm, which he took every opportunity to communicate to such of his friends as afforded a promise of being susceptible of it. The work on Morals and Legislation, had been read by him with correspondent interest. At the time of Mr. Bentham's return to England, as above, he found Dumont, of course, not unacquainted with it. In the interval between the year 1781 and this year 1788, the matter of that work had received considerable additions in manuscript. Of their con- versations on the subject, the result was, the papers being for a time communicated to Dumont and plac- ed in his hands. The whole together, printed and manuscript, being in a state far short of completion, Mr. Bentham could not harbour any such thought as that of publishing it at that time, or at any other than a contingent, as well as indefinitely remote period. Dumont said, that with the help of a little labour, which would carry with it its own reward, he thought that if put into French, he could make such a work of it as need not be afraid of meeting the public eye. Mr. Bentham, considering that on this plan he should stand exempt from the responsibility attached to the publication of a work manifestly imperfect, embraced the proposal, not merely with acquiescence, but with alacrity. This was in 1788 : the next year opened the dawn of the French Revolution. Dumont repaired to Paris. Amongst other features by which the character of the Earl of Shelburne had become distinguished, was the intercourse he had formed and kept up with the most distinguished men of the most distinguished nations of the continent : Dumont failed not to reap the be- nefit of it. Amongst other persons, he became ac- quainted with the celebrated Comte de Mirabeau. Of all the active citizens of the time and place, Mi- 20 154 M. DUMONT. rabeau was the most active : the most distinguish- ed orator, and the most distinguished writer at the same time. But though on former occasions it was to his own pen that he was principally indebted for his reputation, on this occasion it was to others, that he was exclusively, or almost exclusively, indebted. Under his name, by the title of ' Lettres a. ses Com- mettansj came out a periodical on the topics of the day : it was by Dumont that, at the outset, and for a considerable length of time, perhaps the whole of the time, the pen was held. With him, but under him, was a man of considerable reputation, but whose name is not now remembered. Of these letters of Dumont, a great part of the matter, probably all that was new, was taken from Mr. Bentham's papers. During this interesting period, Dumont was some- times at Paris, sometimes in London ; at Paris he was, at the time the elections for the second National Assembly were going on ; that assembly, for which Joseph Priestly and Thomas Paine was returned : it is not remembered whether Thomas Paine sat. Bris- sot then, or soon afterwards, at the head of the party called the Girondists, had been in England not long before the year 1784 : he had contracted an intimacy with Mr. Bentham. Dumont, on his arrival at Paris, had found him busy in canvassing for seats in the Assembly ; among the names for which he had been most active, was that of Jeremy Bentham. Judging from the complexion of the times, Dumont thought it a matter of obligation, laid on him by his duty to his friend, to do what he could to prevent his being sta- tioned in a post of so much danger : without saying any thing to Mr. Bentham, he laboured and succeed- ed. This was, it is believed, somewhere about the year 1793, but the history of the times will show. After this, Dumont's stay at Paris, it may well be imagined, did not long continue. On his return, he resumed his situation in Lansdowne House, and re- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 155 tained it till about the year 18 , when he paid a visit to his own country, Geneva, where he took a prominent and efficient part in its political affairs. In 1802, came out the first of his translations of Mr. Bentham's works, that in 3 vols. 8vo. ' Traitcs de Le- gislation.' Out of this work, seems to have been formed the pretence for a pension of 500 a-year, which he enjoys at present. The history of this pen- sion is curious enough, and not uncharacteristic of the matchless Constitution, the envy and admiration of surrounding nations. In the department of the Ex- chequer there existed, in those days, a sinecure call- ed the Clerkship of the Pells : produce in fees, about 3,000 a-year. Soon after the accession of Lord Shelburne, this sinecure was found or made vacant, and Col. Barre was invested with it. Under this clerk, were clerks in considerable numbers, by whom the business was carried on : of these under clerk- ships, the highest in pay and dignity (pay in fees about 400 a year) was likewise soon after found or made vacant, and found or made a sinecure, and being so found or made, was given to M. Dumont : the said M. Dumont not being a native, this appoint- ment was contrary to an express law, but there are times and seasons at which laws are silent, or tanta- mount to it. Since then, M. Dumont has figured in a double character and under two different names, in England, in the Red Book, Stephen Dumont, Esq. ; in Geneva, Citizen Elienne Dumont, with an inter- vening string of other Christian names. In 18 . when Mr. Addington (now Viscount Sidmouth) be- came Premier, this Clerkship of the Pells was too precious a jewel to be left in non-ministerial hands. Col. Barre was at this time blind as such, an object of charity : the sinecure was taken from him, but 3,000 a-year, under the name of pension, was granted to him in lieu of it. A son of Mr. Adding- ton's got the clerkship. In the year 1806, came a 156 M. DUMONT. fresh ministerial change, to which the whigswere in- debted for their short-lived reign First Lord of the Treasury, Lord Grenville : Chancellor of the Ex- chequer, Lord Henry Petty, youngest of the quon- dam Earl of Shelburne's (now Marquis of Lans- downe's) two sons. On this occasion, the list of the clerks above mentioned came to be overhauled. For no inconsiderable length of time, Stephen Dumont, Esq. was in a state of trepidation : all this time the sinecure was tottering and threatening to slip from under him. He was not altogether destitute, having made some savings which he had invested in the French Funds, but these had undergone what was called consolidation ; in plain English, two-thirds of the interest on the capital had been struck off. Of this little political earthquake, what was the result ? The 400 a-year, instead of being struck off, was thrown up in the form of a pension, and had a hun- dred a-year added to it. Since then his time has been passed in vibrating between London, Paris and Geneva ; of late years mostly in Geneva. When in England, a good part of it has been passed at Holland-house, Kensington : sometimes at Bowood, in Wiltshire, the seat of the Marquis of Lansdowne. At Geneva, some years were passed in the endeavour to obtain adoption for a Penal Code, which, as far as it went, was on the principles of Mr. Bentham, as explained in the first published work. During two years, prodigious, M. Dumont used to say, was the consumption of words that took place on the occasion. The persons with whom he had to do, were Aristocrats to the back- bone. Next to impregnable was the visincrtice which he had to contend against. In a more particular degree distasteful, was the Rationale, which consti- tutes so distinguishing an ingredient in those speci- mens of a Code which may be seen in that work. Without the reasons, it might have passed ; but rea- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 157 son, and reasons, made every thing dry into which they were introduced. At the end of a struggle of several years, M. Dumont has continued to introduce, in some indirect form, into that mixed Constitution in which Aristocracy has, in a high degree, the as- cendant, some small additional spice of democracy, insomuch that with reference to the interest of this, his little State (the population of which, by the last changes, has been increased to 40,000 inhabitants) he has the satisfaction of felicitating himself on the not having lived in vain. Having now furnished the reader with Mr. Bent- ham's opinion of Dumont in Mr. Bentharn's own language, written while M. Dumont was alive, it may not be improper, to put side by side with it what others have said of him, since his death. In a late number of the Revue Encyclopedique there is a Bio- graphical Memoir of M. Dumont, by his intimate friend M. Sismondi. Generally speaking, it is faith- ful and fair; but sometimes the enthusiastic admirer of M. Dumont has gone widely astray. Believing that such error, so sanctioned, so fortified, and so dis- tributed, are worth correcting for the Revue En- cyclopedique is a book of authority, and circulated in every part of the world I have thought fair to re- publish the testimony of M. Sismondi (trusting to the translation above referred to in page 148) with a few brief notes in reply. SKETCH OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF STEPHEN DUMONT. BY J. C. L. DE SISMONDI. Translated from the Revue Encyclopedique. Geneva has just lost one of those citizens who con- stituted its glory, and who, drawing to this little state the eyes of all Europe, gave to it importance and dig- nity. M. Stephen Dumont, seized suddenly with in- 158 M. DUMONT. fiammation of the bowels, while on a journey of plea- sure, died at Milan the 29th of last September, a few hours after the danger had begun to show itself. M. Dumont, born at Geneva in the month of July, 1759, of a father who had suffered great reverses of fortune, was left from his earliest infancy, with three sisters, to the charge of a mother who had no proper- ty, but her talents and great virtues. She formed the character of her son, who loved her, and she liv- ed to a great old age. If from his infancy he had to contend with adversity, from his infancy also he an- nounced that superiority of talents, spirit and intelli- gence, which enabled him while he followed his class- es at college, to repeat to his fellow-students the les- sons which he was taking, and to lighten in this man- ner the sacrifices that his mother was making to pro- cure him a literary education. He was destined to the ecclesiastical career, and was ordained a minister of the Protestant church in 17rality, it is common to personify conscience: it commands, it prohibits, it rewards, it punishes, it wakes, it sleeps. In, philosophical language, we are to reject these figurative expressions, and sub- stitute proper terms, that is to say, the impression of pains and pleasures, which proceed from such or such a sanction. B. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 237 CHAPTER VIII. OF THE VALUE OF PLEASURES AND PAINS. To multiply pleasures, to diminish pains such is the whole business of the legislator. Their value should be well known therefore. Pleasures and pains are the only instruments that can be employed: Their power should be well studied, therefore. If we examine the value of a pleasure consider- ed in itself, and with relation to one single indi- vidual, we shall find it to depend on four circum- stances. J. Its intensity. 2. Its duration. 3. Its certainty. 4. Its pi'Qximity. The value of a pain depends upon the same cir- cumstances. But, in fact, it is not enough to examine the value of pains, or of pleasures, as if they were isolated and independent : pains and pleasures may have con- sequences, which will be in their turn, pains and pleasures. If therefore, we wish to calculate the tendency of an act from which results an immediate pain or pleasure, we must take into view two other circumstances. 5. \tsfruitfulness. 6. Its purity. Fruitful pleasure : that which has a chance to be followed by pleasures of the same sort. Fruitful pain : that which has a chance of being followed with pains of the same sort. Pure pleasure : that which has no chance of pro- ducing pain. 238 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. Pure pain : that which has no chance of produc- ing pleasure. When the above estimation is to refer to a col- lection of individuals, we are to add another circum- stance. 7. Extent : that is to say. the number of persons who are afflicted by such pain or pleasure. Would one estimate the value of an action ? He must follow in detail the operations that have just been described. They are the elements of the mo- ral calculation, and legislation becomes a matter of arithmetic. The evil caused is the expense : the good that one produces is the profit. Th", rules for this calculation are the same as in every other. It is a slow but sure way : What is called senti- ment is more rapid but liable to go astray. But we are not obliged to renew the whole process on every occasion: When we are familiar with it, when we have acquired the judgment which results from such famili- arity with it, we compare the sum-total of good, and the sum-total of mischief, with so much promptitude as not to perceive the items of the reasoning. (24) We do the sum without knowing it. The analyti- cal method becomes necessary whenever a new or complicated operation is to be performed, or when it is necessary to clear up a contested point, to teach or demonstrate a truth to the ignorant. This theory of moral calculation has never been fully explained ; but it has always been followed in practice ; at least, wherever men have had a clear idea of their own interest. What constitutes the value of a lot of ground ? Is it not the amount of pleasure to be drawn from it ? And does not that value vary according to the greater or less duration that we are able to promise ourselves in the enjoy- ment of it? according to the proximity or distance (24) Just as we perceive at once that 600 is more than 500. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 239 of the period, when we are to enter into the enjoy- ment ? according to the certainty or uncertainty of the possession? Errors in the moral conduct of men, or in legisla- tion, may always be referred to some circumstances which have been unknown, forgotten, or badly appre- ciated in the calculation of good and evil. 240 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. CHAPTER IX. SECTION I. OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH INFLUENCE SENSIBILITY. EVERY cause of pleasure does not give to every person the same pleasure : Every cause of pain does not give to every person the same pain. The dif- ference of sensibility is the cause of this. That dif- ference is in the degree or in the kind : in the de- gree, when the impression of one and the same cause upon many individuals is uniform but unequal: in the species, when the same cause produces in different individuals different sensations. (25) That difference in sensibility depends upon cer- tain circumstances, which influence the physical or moral state of individuals, and which, if they were changed, would produce an analogous change in their manner of feeling. This is proved by expe- rience. Things do not affect us in the same W 7 ay, in sickness and in health ; in poverty and in pros- perity ; in youth and in old age. But a general view is not enough: We must enter more profound- ly into the analysis of the human heart. Lyonet made a book in quarto upon the anatomy of a cat- erpillar : in morals there has been no such patient and philosophical investigator. I have not the cour- age to imitate him. I shall do enough perhaps, if I (25) Uniforme, mais inrgale, says M. Dumont meaning, alike in nature though not in degree. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION, 241 open a new prospect, and suggest a better path to such as are willing to proceed further. 1. The foundation of the whole is the tempera- ment or original constitution, by which I understand the radical and primitive disposition that each has at birth, which depends upon the physical organiza- tion and the nature of the mind.* But although that radical constitution may be the foundation of all the rest, that foundation is so con- cealed, that it is very difficult to penetrate to it and divide what belongs to that cause from what belongs to all the rest. Let us leave to physiologists to distinguish these temperaments, to follow their mixture, and to trace their effects. They are a territory too little known at present, for the legislator or the moralist. 2. Health. We must define health negatively* It is the absence of every sensation of pain and un- easiness ; the first symptoms of which may be refer- red to any part of the body. As to sensibility in general, we observe that the sick man is less sensible to the influence of the causes of pleasure, and more sensible to the causes of pain. 3. Strength. Although connected with health, strength is a circumstance apart, since a man may be weak, in proportion to the average force of men, without being sick. The degree of strength is capa- ble of being measured with sufficient exactness by the lifting of weights and by other proofs. Weak- ness is sometimes a negative term, signifying the * Although many philosophers acknowledge but one substance, and re- gard this division as purely nominal* they will grant us this at least namely that if the spirit is a part of the body, it is a part very different by nature from the others. Considerable alterations of the body strike the senses; the great- est alterations of the mind do not. From a resemblance of organization, we cannot infer intellectual resemblance. The motions of the body are regarded, it is true, as probable indications of what is passing in the soul, but they are not conclusive. How many are there who can put on all the outward show of sensibility, without feeling any thing. Cromwell, that man inaccessible to pity, shed tears at pleasure. B. 31 242 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. absence of strength, and sometimes a relative term, expressing; that such an individual is less strong than such another to whom he is compared. 4. Bodily imperfections. I understand by this, some remarkable deformity, or the privation of some member, and of some faculty, which well organized men commonly enjoy. Particular effects upon sensi- bility depend upon the kind of imperfection. The general effect is to diminish, more or less, agreeable impressions, and to aggravate, more or less, painful impressions. 5. The degree of intelligence. I understand by this, the knowledge or the ideas that an individual possesses; that is to say, the knowledge or the quantity of interesting ideas, those which are of a nature to influence his happiness and that of others. The enlightened man is he who possesses a large share of these important ideas : the ignorant is he who possesses few and of little importance. 6. Power of the intellectual faculties. The de- gree of facility with which we recall acquired ideas, or acquire new ones, constitutes the measure of in- telligence. Different qualities of mind are concern- ed in this, such as exactness of memory,- power of attention, clearness of discernment, vivacity of imagi- nation, etc. 7. Firmness of soul. We attribute this quality to a man when he is less affected by immediate pleasures or pains, than by great pleasures or great pains that are distant and uncertain. When Turenne, seduced by the blandishment of a woman, revealed to her a secret of state, he wanted firmness of soul. The young Lacedemonians who suffered themselves to be torn with rods at the altar of Diana, without uttering a cry, proved that the fear of shame and the hope of glory had more influence upon them, than the most acute actual pain. 8. Perseverance. A circumstance referring to the PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 243 time during which a given motive acts upon the will with a uniform force. We say of a man that he wants perseverance, when the motive which causes him to act, loses all its force without our being able to attribute the change to any exterior event, or to any reason which ought to weaken it ; or when he is of a temper to yield one after another to a great variety of motives. It is in this way that children get angry with and weary of their toys. 9. The tendency of the inclinations. The idea that we form beforehand of a pleasure or of a pain, has much influence upon the manner in which we are affected, when we come to experience that pain or pleasure. The effect does not always corre- spond with the expectation ; but in the most com- mon cases it does. The value of possession, where a female is concerned, is not to be estimated by her beauty, but by the passion, of her lover. Do we know the partialities of a man ? We may calculate with a degree of certainty, the pains or the pleasures that a given event will cause him.* 10. Notions of honour. We call honour a sensi- bility to the pains and pleasures that are derived from the opinion of other men, that is to say, from their esteem or contempt. The ideas of honour vary much with nations and with individuals. It may be proper to ascertain, first, the power of the motive, and secondly, its direction. 1 1 . Notions of religion. We know how far sen- sibility may be augmented or meliorated by religious ideas. It is at the birth of religion that we observe the greatest effects. The kind-hearted have become C? sanguinary, the pusillanimous intrepid ; nations of slaves have become freed, and savages have received the yoke of civilization : nothing, in a word, has pro- * The four following circumstances are but subdivisions of the principal one: the inclinations, the passions, considered with respect to certain determi- nate pleasures and pains. D. 244 DUMONT'3 BENTIIAM. duced such prompt and extraordinary effects upon men. As to the particular bias that religion may give to individuals, the variety is wonderful. 12. Sentiments of sympathy. I call sympathy that disposition, which leads us to take pleasure in the happiness of other sentient beings, and to com- passionate their sufferings. If that disposition shows itself toward one single individual, we call it friend- ship ; if it shows itself toward those who suffer, it receives the name of pity or compassion ; if it em- braces only a subordinate class of individuals, it con- stitutes what is called party-spirit esprit de corps ; if it embraces the whole nation, it is public-spirit, patriotism; if it extends to all mankind, it is hu-> inanity. But the part of sympathy which is most conspicu- ous in common life, is that which fixes the affections upon assignable individuals, such as parents, children, a husband, a wife, or intimate friends. Its general effect is to increase our sensibility both to pain and to pleasure. The meaning of the word Me becomes more ex- tensive ; it ceases to be solitary, it becomes collect" ive. We enjoy a double life as it were, in ourselves and in them that we love ; nor is it impossible for us to love ourselves more in others than in ourselves ; to be less sensible to the events that concern us, by their immediate effect upon us, than by their impres- sion upon those who are attached to us ; to prove that the bitterest part of our affliction is the grief that it causes to those who love us, and that the greatest charm of personal success is the pleasure that their joy gives to us. Such are the phenomena of sympathy. Sentiments received and communi- cated are augmented by such intercommunication, as mirrors disposed in a manner to reflect the rays of light, gather them into a common focus and pro- duce a much greater degree of heat by their recip- PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 245 rocal reflection. The power of these sympathies is one of the reasons which have caused legislators to prefer the married men to the unmarried ; and the fathers of a family to those who have no children. The law has much more control over them than could be hoped for in a wider sphere ; for the for- mer, besides being interested in the happiness of those who are to survive, unite the present with the future in their thoughts, while men who have not the same ties, have only a life-interest in every thing. As to the sympathy produced by the relationship of a parent, we are to observe that it operates inde- pendently of affection. The honour acquired by the father extends itself to the son : the shame of the son is reflected upon the father. The members of a family, although disunited in interests, and in inclin- ation, have a common sensibility to whatever con- cerns the honor of each. 13, Antipathies. Antipathies are opposed to all the enlarged and affectionate feelings of which we have just been treating. But there are natural and con- stant sources of sympathy : we find them every where, at all times, in all circumstances, while anti- pathies are but accidental, and consequently fleeting: Thus they vary according to time, place, events and persons having nothing fixed and determined. Ne- verthless these two principles correspond sometimes and mutually aid each other. Humanity may render the inhuman hateful to us : friendship engages us to hate the adversaries of our friends ; and antipathy it- self becomes a source of union between two persons who have a common enemy. 14. Madness, or derangement of mind. The imper- fections of the mind may he reduced to those of igno- rance, weakness, irritability, and inconstancy. What we call madness is an extraordinary degree of imper- fection as striking to all the world, as the most de- 246 DUMOJNT'S BENTHAM. cided corporeal defect ; it produces not only all the imperfections above-named, and carries them to ex- cess, but it gives an absurd and dangerous turn to the affections. The sensibility of the maniac is excessive, on a certain point, while about every thing else he is in- different : he appears to feel an excessive distrust, a dangerous malignity, and to be wholly destitute of benevolence : He has no respect lor himself nor for others ;* he is not insensible to fear nor to good treatment: he is subdued by firmness, at the same time that he is soothed by mildness; but he does not look to the future, and is operated upon only by im- mediate means. 15. Pecuniary circumstances. They are composed of the sum total of means compared with the sum total of wmts. Means comprehend. 1. Property what one has without labor : 2. Profits resulting from labor ; pe- cuniary succor that one may gratuitously expect from parents or friends. Wants depend on four circumstances. 1. Habits of expense above those habits we find the superflu- ous ; below, privation : the greater part of our de- sires exist only by the remembrance of some anterior enjoyment. 2. Persons with whom we are charged, by the law or by public opinion, children, poor rela- tions, and old servants. 3. Unforeseen wants : this sum may amount to more at one time than at another ; tor example, if it be necessary for an important law- suit, or a voyage on which the welfare of a family may depend. 4. The expectation of profit, of inhe- ritance, &c. It is clear that some hopes of fortune are, in proportion to their force, actual wants, and that their loss may affect one almost as much as that * II brave les biens anees et les egards. D. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 247 of a property of which one was to have had the en- joyment. SECTION II. SECONDARY CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH INFLUENCE OUR SENSIBILITY. AUTHORS who have tried to explain the difference in sensibility, have referred it to certain circumstances, of which we have not hitherto made mention; these circumstances are, sex, age, rank, education, habitual pursuits, climate, race, government, religion ; all very apparent, very easy to observe, very convenient for explaining the divers phenomena of sensibility. But, after all, these are but secondary circumstances; they are not reasons of themselves ; they require to be explained by primary circumstances which are found united together in them; each of these secondary circumstances contains in itself many primary cir- cumstances. Thus, do we speak of the influence of sex upon the sensibility ? It is to recall by a single word the primary circumstances of strength, of in- telligence, of firmness of soul, of perseverance, of the ideas of honour, the sentiments of sympathy, etc, Do we speak of the influence of rank? We under- stand by that word, a certain assemblage of prima- ry circumstances, such as the degree of knowledge, ideas of honour, ties of family, habitual occupations, pecuniary circumstances. It is the same with all the others; each one of these secondary circum- stances may be translated by a certain number of primary ones. This distinction, though essential, has never been analyzed. Let us proceed to a more de- tailed examination. 248 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. 1. Sex. The sensibility of women appears to be greater than that of men; Their health is more de- licate. Relatively, in strength of body, in the de- gree of intelligence, in the intellectual faculties, in firmness of soul, they are commonly inferior. Moral and religious sensibility is more lively with them ; sympathy and antipathy have more influence over them. The honour of woman consists more in chas- tity and modesty ; that of man more in probity and courage ; the religion of the woman tends more to superstition, that is to say, toward minute ob- servances. Her affections are stronger for her own children as long as they live, and for her children in general during their infancy. Women are more compassionate toward those whom they see suffer, and are attached to an object by the very anxieties that object may give them ; but their benevolence is limited by a narrower circle, and has less to do with the principles of utility. It is rare for them to embrace in their affections the well-being of their country in general, yet more that of humanity ; and the interest even which they feel toward a party, de- pends almost always on private sympathy. In all their attachments and antipathies, more caprice and imagination is found, while man has more regard to personal interest or to public utility. Their habitual occupations are more peaceable and more sedentary. The general result is, that woman is better in her family ; man more suited to the affairs of state. (26) Household economy is better understood by the woman; the chief administration of affairs by the man. (26) It is a part of the theory of Mr. Mill, author of British-India, and a disciple of .Mr. Bentham, that the interest of women is included in that of men.. But this is no part of the doctrine of Jeremy Benlharn. He sees, and seeing, he acknowledges, that the interest of woman is not the same as that of man that on the contrary, it is directly opposed to it in a variety of cases, and that therefore it should be protected for her, and guaranteed to her by law, But more of this hereafter. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 249 2. J$ge. Every period of life acts differently upon sensibility : But how are we to estimate this, when the limits of different ages vary with every individual, and are even arbitrary with regard to all ? What we say must be but vague and general, upon infancy, childhood, youth, maturity, decline and decrepitude, in considering them as divisions of human life. The dif- ferent imperfections of the mind, of which we have spoken, are so striking in infancy, as to require a vigi- lant and perpetual protection. The affections of youth and childhood are prompt and lively, but little govern- ed by the principle of prudence. The legislator is obliged to secure that age against the aberrations, which it is led into by want of experience and by the vivacity of the passions. As to old age, it is on many accounts a return of the imperfections of childhood. 3. Rank. This circumstance depends so much upon the political constitution of States, that it would be almost impossible to offer any proposition concern- ing it, which would be universally true. We might say generally that the amount of sensibility is greater in the upper than in the lower classes, and particular- ly with regard to notions of honour. 4. Education. To physical education we may re- fer health, strength and hardihood ; to intellectual ed- ucation, the quality and quantity of knowledge, and up to a certain point, the firmness of the soul and perseverance : to moral education the tendency of the inclinations, with ideas of honour, of religion, sentiments of sympathy, etc. We may ascribe to education in general, habitual occupations, amuse- ments, ties, habits of expense, and pecuniary re- sources. But when we speak of education, we must not forget that its influence may be modified in every point of view, either by the concurrence of exterior causes or by a natural disposition, which may render it impossible to foresee the effects. 32 250 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. 5. Habitual occupations Either of profit or of amusement, and of choice. They affect all the other causes, health, strength, intelligence, inclinations, ideas of honour, sympathies, antipathies, fortune, &c. Thus we observe traits of character common to cer- tain professions, and particularly in those that form a body by themselves, ecclesiastics, soldiers, sailors, lawyers, magistrates, etc. 6. Climate. For a time, too much was attributed to this cause; then it was reduced to nothing. What renders the examination difficult is, that a compa- rison of nation with nation cannot be made but upon great facts which may be differently under- stood by different people. It appears incontestible that in hot climates men are not so strong, nor so robust: (27) they have little need of work, the earth being so fruitful; they are more carried away by the pleasures of love, the passion showing itself sooner and with more ardor. Their sensibility is more ac- tive, their imagination more lively, their wit more ready, but less powerful, less persevering. Their habitual occupations partake more of indolence than of activity. They have probably at their birth a physical organization less vigorous, a temper of soul less firm and less constant. 7. The Race. A negro born in France or in England is a very different being, on many accounts, from a child of the English or French race. A Spanish child born in Mexico or Peru, is at the mo- ment of his birth very different from a Mexican or Peruvian child. (28) Race may work with nature, which serves for a foundation. Afterwards it ope- (27) Query to this. Later information goes to show that in certain very warm latitudes people are prodigiously robust, and that the country most fa- vourable to the tiger and lion may be, and not only may be, but is favourable in the highest degree to the physical character of man. Go to the .North how- ever, and you find that extreme rigour is unfavourable to the developement of bodily power in man. N. (18) On some accounts he may be though not in colour; perhaps not visi- bly in shape, or feature. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 251 rates much more sensibly upon the moral and re- ligious bias, upon the sympathies and antipathies of man. 8. The Government. This circumstance operates in the same manner as education. The magistrate may be considered as a national preceptor ; and un- der a clear-sighted, and attentive government, the particular preceptor, the father himself, is as it were, only the deputy, the substitute for the magistrate, with this difference, that the authority of the one is limited to a certain period of age, while that of the other is for life. The influence of this cause is immense ; it extends almost every where ; or rather, it embraces every thing except temperament, race and climate. Health it- self may depend upon it, in some measure, on ac- count of the police, of plenty, and of the care to re- move hurtful things. The mode of directing educa- tion, of disposing of employments, of rewards, of punishments, will determine the physical and moral qualities of a people. Under a government well-constituted, or even but well-administered, though badly constituted, we see that men are more governed by honour, and that ho- nour is placed in actions more conformable to public utility. Religious sensibility is more exempt from fanaticism and intolerance, more free from supersti- tion and servile respect. It forms a common tie of patriotism. Men perceive the existence of a nation- al interest. Defeated factions have more trouble in raising their ancient war cry. The popular affec- tions are directed rather toward the magistrate, than toward the heads of a party, and toward the whole country rather than to any thing else. Pri- vate vengeance is neither prolonged nor communi- cated : national taste is directed toward useful ex- penditures, voyages of instruction, of perfection of agriculture, toward the cultivation of the sciences 252 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. and the embellishment of the country. We per- ceive even in the productions of the human mind a general disposition to discuss with sobriety, ques- tions important to public happiness. 9. The religious profession. We may draw from this, indications conclusive enough with regard to religious sensibility, sympathy, antipathy, and the ideas of honour and virtue. We may in certain ca- ses even judge of the intelligence, the strength or the weakness of mind, and the inclinations of an individual, by the sect to which he belongs. I ad- mit that it is common to profess in public, from good breeding or convenience, a religion of the truth of which one is not intimately persuaded. But its in- fluence, though weakened, is not destroyed. The early habits, the ties of society, the power of exam- ple, continue to operate, even after the principle of the whole no longer exists. That man who, at the bottom of his heart, has ceased to be a Jew, a Qua- ker, an Ana-baptist, a Calvinist or Lutheran, will nevertheless be sure to retain a partiality for the people of the same denomination, and a proportiona- ble antipathy for every other. SECTION III. PRACTICAL APPLICATION OF THE ABOVE THEORY. As we cannot calculate the progress of a vessel, without knowing the circumstances which affect her swiftness, such as the strength of the wind, the re- sistance of the water, the cut of her hull, the weight of her cargo, etc., so, we cannot work with safety on the subject of legislation without considering all the circumstances which influence the sensibility. PRINCIPLES OV LEGISLATION. 253 I confine myself here to what concerns the penal code, which requires, at every step, a scrupulous at- tention to that diversity of circumstances. 1. How to estimate the evil of a crime. The same nominal offence is not the same real offence, when the sensibility of the individual injured is not the same. Any action may be a grave insult to a wo- man ; though it would be a matter of indifference to a man. Such a corporal injury as, offered to a sick man, might endanger his life, would have no effect upon another in good health. An imputation which might destroy the fortune or character of one man, would do no injury to that of another. 2. How to give a suitable satisfaction to the indi- vidual injured. The same nominal satisfaction is not the same real satisfaction, where the sensibility differs essentially. A pecuniary satisfaction for an affront, may be either agreeable or offensive, accord- ing to the rank of the person, to his fortune, or to received prejudices. Am I insulted? A pardon pub- licly asked of me by my superior or equal, would be a complete satisfaction; (29) not so, if it were asked of me by my inferior. 3. How to estimate the force and impression of pain upon a delinquent. The same nominal pain (punish- ment) is not the same real pain, where the sensibili- ty of the sufferers differs essentially. Punishment would not he the same to the young and to the old man, to the bachelor and the father of a family, to the artizan with no means of subsistence out of his own country, and to the rich man, whom it only causes to change the scene of pleasure. Imprisoii- (29) Our author does not mean to require an acknowledgment from one party to another, much less that the party offending should be made to ask par- don of the other. But what he does require may be found in a late work of his, only a part of which has appeared. The substance of it occurs under the the title of PRESENCE BANISHMENT. The offenders may be adjudged by law to keep out of the way, or not to come within a prescribed distance of the other party. In addition to this, an acknowledgment for the offending party u in some aggravated cases to be made by the judge. N. 254 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. ment would not be the same to a man and to a wo- man, to a person in health, and to a sick person, to a rich man whose family would not suffer by his ab- sence, and to a man who lives by his labour and would leave his in poverty. 4. Transplantation of a law from one country to another. The same verbal law is not the same real law, if the sensibility of two people is not the same. A law of Europe which constitutes the happiness of families, transported to Asia, would become the scourge of society. Women in Europe are accus- tomed to liberty and even to domestic control : wo- men in Asia are prepared by their education for the cloisters of a seraglio, and even for servitude. (30) Marriage in Europe and the East is not the same sort of contract: if we were to subject it every where to the same laws, we should undoubtedly produce un- happiness to all the parties interested. The same punishment for the same offence. This adage wears an appearance of justice and impartiality which has seduced a multitude of superficial minds. To give it any reasonable meaning, we should deter- mine beforehand what is understood by the same pun- ishments and the same offences. An inflexible law, a law which would pay no regard either to sex or age, to fortune or rank, or education, or to the moral or religious prejudices of individuals, would be doubly vicious, either as inefficient or as tyrannical. Too severe for one ; too indulgent for another ; always erring by excess or deficiency under an appearance of equality, it would conceal the most enormous ine- quality. When a man of large fortune and another of a middling fortune, are condemned to the same penal- ty, is the punishment the same ? Do they suffer the (30) Doubts are beginning to be entertained about the treatment of Eastern wives. They are now believed to be treated with extraordinary kindness and respect. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 255 same evil ? Is not the manifest inequality of their treatment rendered more hateful by the pretended equality ? and does not the law miss its aim, since one may forfeit the very means of existence while the other would escape in triumph? Let a young robust man and a decrepit old man be condemned to drag a weight of chains for a certain number of years, a reasoner who is accustomed to rendering the most evident truths obscure, might contend for the equality of the punishment, but the people who are not so- phists, and who are faithful to nature and to feeling, would experience an inward murmur of the soul at sight of the injustice; and their indignation, shifting its object, would pass from the criminal to the judge and from the judge to the legislator. I would not overlook certain specious objections. How is it possible to make out an account of all the circumstances which affect the sensibility ? How are we to appreciate the inward and hidden disposi- tion, such as strength of mind, the degree of intelli- gence, the inclinations and the sympathies ? How are we to measure qualities which are so different in different beings ? A father of a family may consult the inward disposition, the diversity of character, in the treatment of his children ; but a public precep- tor, charged with a limited number of disciples, can- not. The legislator who has a numerous people in view, is for a stronger reason obliged to confine him- self to general laws, and may fear to render them too complicated by descending to particular cases. If he leaves to the judges the right of varying the applica- tion of the laws according to the infinite variety of circumstances and characters, there would be no check upon arbitrary judgments : under pretext of seizing the true intention of the legislator, the judges would make the law the instrument of gratification to their caprice or evil temper. ' Sed aliter leges, aliter philosophi toHunt astutias ; leges quatenus munu tenere 256 DUMONT'S BENTIIAM. possunt ; philosophi quatenus ralione et intelligentia. De off. 3 17." It is not enough to answer we must try to clear up the point : for all this contains, not so much an objection as a difficulty. It is not the principle that is denied, it is the application which is thought impos- sible. 1. I grant that most of these differences in sensi- bility are incapable of being estimated, that it would be impossible to verify their existence in individu- al cases, or to measure their strength or degree ; but happily these interior and concealed dispositions have, as it were, outward and visible signs. These are the circumstances which I have called secondary : sex, age, rank, race, climate, government, education, reli- gious profession ; evident and palpable circumstances, which indicate the interior disposition. Here then, the most difficult part of the legislator's duty is over. He does not inquire into metaphysical or moral quali- ties; he attends only to ostensible (and tangible) pro- perties. He orders, for example, the modification of a pain not because of the greater sensibility of the individual, or because of his perseverance, or strength of soul or intelligence, but on account of the sex or the age. It is true that presumptions drawn from these cirumstances are subject to error. It may be that a child of fifteen is more enlightened than a man of thirty ; it may be that a particular woman has more courage or less modesty than a particular man : But these presumptions will be just enough, in ge- neral, to prevent the making of tyrannical laws, and above all, to conciliate the suffrages of public opinion. 2. These secondary circumstances are not only easy to seize ; they are a small number and they form general classes. We may draw from them grounds of justification, of extenuation, or of aggra- vation, for different offences. Thus the complication PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 257 disappears, and every thing is easily brought back to the principle of simplicity. 3. There is nothing arbitrary; it is not the judge; it is the law itself which modifies such or such a pun- ishment according to the sex, the age, the religious profession of the offender, &c. Other circumstances are necessarily left to the examination of the judge, as the more or less derangement of mind, the more or less of strength, the more or less of fortune, the more or less of a particular parentage ; the legislator who can say nothing to individual cases, directs the courts by general rules, and leaves them a certain latitude, that they may adapt their judgment to the particular nature of the circumstances. What is recommended here is not an Utopian idea. There never was a legislator barbarous enough or stu- pid enough to neglect all the circumstances which af- fect sensibility. They have all had an idea more or less confused which has guided them in the esta- blishment of civil and political rights ; they have shown more or less regard to these circumstances in the institution of punishments ; hence the difference admitted for women, children, freemen, slaves, the military, churchmen, &c. Draco appears to be the only one who has rejected all these considerations, at least in penal matters : all crimes were alike in his view r , since all were vio- lations of the law. He condemned delinquents to death without distinction. He confounded, he over- threw all the principles of human sensibility. His horrible work did not last long. I doubt whether the law r s that he made were ever administered strictly. Without falling into that extreme, how many faults of the same sort have been made ! I should never finish, if I were to cite examples. Would it be be- lieved that there have been sovereigns, who have preferred losing provinces, and pouring out rivers of blood, to humorins: a particular sensibility in a peo- 33 258 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. pie, or to respect an old prejudice, or a particular garb, or a certain form of prayer ? A prince of our day, active, enlightened, animated by the desire of glory, and the happiness of his peo- ple, undertook to reform every thing in the state, and raised every body against him. At the approach of death, reviewing all the disappointments of his life, he desired to have it engraved upon his tomb that he had been unfortunate in every thing he undertook. It would have been well to add, for the instruction of posterity, that he had never known how to humor the partialities, the inclinations, the sensibility of men. (31) When the legislator studies the human heart ; when he attends to the different degrees and to the different kinds of sensibility, by making exceptions, or limitations, or meliorations, this tempering of power gratifies us as a sort of paternal condescension. It is the ground-work of that approbation which we give to the law under the rather vague names of human- ity, equity, propriety, moderation and wisdom. I find here a striking analogy between the art of the legislator and that of the physician. This cata- logue of circumstances which influence sensibility is alike necessary to both sciences. What distinguishes the physician from the quack is that attention to every thing which constitutes the particular state of the individual. But it is above all, in the maladies of the mind, in those where the morals are affected, where he labors to overcome hurtful habits and to form new ones, that it is necessary to study every thing that may influence the disposition of the pa- tient. A single error here may change all the results and aggravate the evil by the very remedies. (31) Joseph IO It has Been well said of Peter the Great, that he hazarded more, when he ordered the Russians to shave, than by every thing else he did in the character of an arbitrary reformer. IV. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION, 259 CH A PT ER X. ANALYSIS OF POLITICAL GOOD AND KVI L. H O W THEY ARK SPREAD IN SOCIETY. IT is with government, as with medicine. They have both but a choice of evils. Every law is an evil, for every law is an infraction of liberty : (32) And I repeat that government has but a choice of evils : In making this choice, what ought to be the object of the legislator ? He ought to assure himself of two things ; 1st, that in every case, the incidents which he tries to prevent are really evils ; and 2ndly, that if evils, they are greater than those which he employs to prevent them. There are then two things to be regarded ; the evil of the offence and the evil of the law ; the evil of the malady and the evil of the remedy. An evil comes rarely alone. (33) A lot of evil can- not well fall upon an individual without spreading it- self about him, as about a common centre. In the course of its progress we see it take different shapes: we see evil of one kind issue from evil of another kind ; evil proceed from good and good from evil. All these changes, it is important to know and to dis- tinguish ; in this, in fact, consists the essence of le- gislation. But happily these modifications of evil (32) For the sake of what may appear to be a strange, brilliant paradox, the author has here said what is not strictly true. Law is not an evil, where it promotes the greatest happiness of the greatest number. Law is not an evil where it abridges the liberty of doing mischief. It were but a narrow view of the subject indeed, to say that law is bad because it abridges liberty, unless you say what liberty. By abridging the liberty of those who seek to do evil, it augments the liberty of those who do not, and the last are the majority, if you reckon the cases instead of the persons. N. (33) Misfortune seldom cornes alone, says the proverb. And the proverb is here shown to be philosophically true. N. 260 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. are not numerous, and the differences are strongly marked. Three principal distinctions, with two sub- divisions, are enough to enable us to resolve the most difficult problems. Evil of the first order. Evil of the second order. Evil of the third order. Primitive evil. Derivative evil. Immediate evil. Consequent evil. Extensive evil. Divisible evil. Permanent evil. Transient evil. (34) These are the only new terms that we need for ex- pressing all the variety of forms that evil may take. Evil resulting from a bad action, may be divided into two principal kinds : 1, that which falls imme- diately upon such or such assignable individuals, may be called evil of the first order: 2, that which takes its origin in the first, and spreads itself over the en- tire community, or among an indefinite number of non-assignable individuals, we may call evil of the se- cond order. Evil of the first order may be divided into two branches: 1, the primitive evil, which is peculiar to the individual injured, or first sufferer, to him for ex- ample, who is beaten or robbed ; 2. Derivative evil that portion of evil which falls upon assignable indi- viduals, in consequence of the evil suffered by the first, because of some connexion between the two, whether from personal interest or sympathy. Evil of the second order may also be divided into two branches: 1, JilQrm. 2, Danger. Alarm is a posi- tive pain, the pain of apprehension, apprehension of suffering the same evil which has just occurred to an- other. Danger is the chance that the primitive evil may produce other evils of the same sort. The two branches of evil of the second order are (34) Observe the simplicity and comprehensiveness of thii arrangement. N, PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 2G1 closely allied, but so unlike, nevertheless, that they may exist separately. Alarm may exist without dan- ger ; danger may exist without alarm. We may be frightened by a conspiracy purely imaginary; we may feel secure in the midst of a plot which is ready to explode ; but ordinarily, alarm and danger go toge- ther as natural effects of the same cause. Evil that happens prepares the mind to expect more evils ol the same sort, by rendering them probable. Evil that happens gives birth to danger : the idea of danger gives birth to alarm. A bad action leads to danger by example : it prepares the way for another bad action, I, in suggesting the idea of perpetrating it, (35) 2, in augmenting the force of temptation. Follow what may be supposed to pass through the mind of such or such an individual when he hears of successful robbery. He is unacquainted with this mode of subsistence, or he does not think of it : the example acts as a lesson and makes him conceive the first idea of recurring to the same expedient. He sees that the thing is possible, provided one manages well : executed by another, it will appear to him less difficult and less dangerous. It is a track which guides him in a path, he would not have dared to be the first to take. The example has another effect not less remarkable upon his mind ; it is that of weakening the motives, which withhold him : the fear of the law loses a part of it force, so long as the guilty continue unpunished ; the fear of shame diminishes in the same way, since he finds himself surrounded by accomplices who offer as it were en- (35) Nothing can be truer than this. For months together in England, yon may see new convictions for the same offence an offence never heard of in this country detailed, in the same paper, from two to six times a week. In the Morning Herald for 1824-5 and 6, 1 have met with from forty to fifty cases of assault on children of six, seven and eight, by middle-aged and robust men, or men advanced in years. And here in this country, we have had cases in proof. The United States mail was robbed again and again a few years ago at the south, in spite of the fatal consequences to all concerned. And so with suicide, piracy and theft. N. 2G2 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. couraging association against the tinhappiness of con- tempt. This is so true that wherever robberies are frequent and unpunished, they cause no more shame than any other mode of acquisition. (36) The first Greeks had no scruple on this head. The Arabs of our day glory in it. (37) To apply this theory. You have been beaten, wounded, insulted, robbed. The mass of your per- sonal suffering, considered in yourself alone, forms the primitive evil. But you have friends ; sympathy causes them to participate in your pains. You have a wife, children, parents ; a part of the shame with which the affront has covered you, lights upon them. You have creditors ; the loss you have sustained obliges you to make them wait. All these people suffer more or less from an evil derived from yours ; and these two lots of evil, yours and theirs, taken to- gether, compose the evil of the first order. (36) Another example may be found of the truth of all this in the fact, that for jears no failure will occur in particular neighbourhoods. Men get ashamed and afraid to fail. At last however, some one, who has battled hard with ad- versity and suffering, stops another follows and another, because they can- not help it. Now is the time for the knave. He is not obliged to fail ; but having honest men to keep him in countenance and being withheld by neither fear nor shame now and hoping to drive a good bargain with his creditors, he takes advantage of the time, and shuts up shop. Hence whole communities go, when there would appear to be no reason for it ; and hence at the South in Baltimore for example there are men who make a business of failing ; men who follow it as a trade. N. (37) Wreckers follow robbery as a trade ; thieves who associate together glory in their achievements. And there is a strange, every-day morality about, which would be inexplicable but for this principle of imitation. Are we not surrounded by men who, while they borrow, and keep, or take or steal books, papers, gloves, canes, umbrellas, penknives, &c. would never borrow and keep nor take nor steal any thing else of the same value ? Do we not find men cheating in trade, or keeping what they have unjustly acquired, by mistake, or by finding, who would never steal money raw 7 How numerous are they that cheat with cards or in measure, quality, &c. or lie profession- ally ; and who, at the same time, are altogether too honest to cheat in change, or to pass counterfeit money, or to lie out of the usual course of business. A. is quite amazed at the villainy of B., who gives another short measure ; yet A., if he finds a mistake in his own favour, is in no hurry to amend it. And B., while he expresses a becoming horror at the behaviour of A., with regard to the mistake, will borrow his neighbour's penknife, or book, or umbrella, and nerer think of returning it : or peradventure, if he picks up money in the highway, will never give himself much trouble to find the owner. Such is the morality of custom. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION, 2 68 This is not all. The news of the robbery with all the circumstances (exaggerated) is repeated from mouth to mouth. The idea of danger starts up, and consequently alarm. That alarm is greater or less, according to what is told of the character of the rob- bers, of their cruelty, of their number, and of their means ; according as we are nigh to or afar from the place of the event ; as we have more or less courage and strength ; as we travel alone or with a wife ; as we carry with us more or less of valuables, etc. The danger and the alarm here constitute the evil of the second order. If the evil which has been done you is of a nature to be propagated : for example, if somebody has de- famed you by an imputation which includes a class more or less numerous of individuals, it is no longer a private evil simply, but an extensive evil. It is aug- mented in proportion to the number of those who participate in it. If the sum which one has robbed you of, belonged not to you, but to a society, or to the state, the loss would be a repartible or divisible evil. Contrary to the preceding case, the evil here would be diminish- ed in proportion to the number of those who partici- pated in it. If in consequence of a wound that you have re- ceived, you suffer some evil, altogether distinct from the first, as the loss of a lucrative business, or of mar- riage, or of an advantageous post, this would be a consequent evil. Permanent evil is that which, once done, cannot be changed : for example, an irreparable personal injury, amputation, death, &c. Transient or evanescent evil is that which is capable of ceasing all at once, as a malady which is cured, or a loss which may be com- pletely compensated. These distinctions, although in part new, are any thing but useless subtleties. It is only by their means 264 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. that we are able to appreciate the difference of malig- nity between different crimes, and to regulate the pro- portion of punishment. This analysis will furnish us with a moral criteri- on, or a means of decomposing human actions ; as we decompose metals to know their intrinsic value and the precise quantity of alloy. If among had actions or actions reputed to be so, there are any which produce no alarm, what a differ- ence between such actions and those which do pro- duce it ! The subject of the primitive evil is but one individual : the derivative evil can extend itself but to a small number. But the evil of the second order may embrace the whole body of society. Let a fa- natic for example, commit an assassination for heresy, the evil of the second order, the alarm above all, may be a thousand times greater than the evil of the first order. There is a large class of offences, of which all the evil consists in the danger. I speak of those actions which, without wounding any assignable in- dividual are hurtful to society. Let us take for ex- ample, an offence against justice. The bad con- duct of a judge, of an accuser, or of a witness, leads to the escape of a guilty person. Here is an evil without doubt, for here is a danger ; the danger of emboldening by impunity the delinquent himself to repeat his crime ; the danger of encouraging other delinquents by the example and the success of the first. However, it is probable that this danger, great as it is, will have escaped the attention of the public ; and that those who from a habit of reflection are capable of estimating the consequences, (38) will not feel any (38) I am doubtful of the meaning here; and if the translation is proper, I should be inclined to object to the reasoning. ' II est probable 1 says the au- thor ' que ceux qui, par 1'habitude de la reflexion, sont capables de le deme- ler, n'en concevront point d'alarme. Us ne craignent pns de le voir se realiser sur personne.' In particular should be added, or something else; for they who were capable of reflecting, would see the evil, and seeing it, they would fear it. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 265 alarm. They do not fear to see it realized upon any body. But the importance of these distinctions cannot be felt except in their developement. We shall hereafter attempt a particular application. If we carry our search a little further, we shall perceive another evil which may result from a crime. When alarm arrives at a certain point when it lasts a long time its effect is not confined to the passive faculties of man ; it spreads even to his active facul- ties, it extinguishes them, it throws them into a state of abasement and torpor. Hence when depredations or vexations have become habitual, the discouraged labourer works but just enough to escape starvation : The only refuge for him is idleness. Industry sinks with hope, and briars overspread the most fertile lands. This branch of the evil may be called evil of the third order. Whether the evil be produced by the act of man, or by a purely physical event, all these distinctions are equally applicable. Happily, it is not to evil alone that belongs the power of propagating and spreading itself. Good has the same prerogative. Follow analogy, and you will see proceeding from a good action a good of the first order, divisible also into primitive and de- rivative; and a good of the second order which pro- duces a certain degree of confidence and security. The good of the third order shows itself in that energy, that gayety of heart, that ardor of action, which are excited by remuneratory motives. Ani- mated by this joyous temper, a man discovers in himself a strength which he had never suspected. The propagation of good is less rapid and less obvious than that of evil. A grain of good is less productive in hope than a grain of evil in alarm. But that difference is abundantly compensated ; for good is the necessary result of natural causes which 34 266 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. operate continually, while evil is produced but by ac- cident and at intervals. (39) Society is so constituted that in labouring for our own happiness, we labour for the general happiness. We cannot increase our own means of enjoyment (39) What a grand view of the grandest object within the reach of our un- derstanding! What we call evil is but in fact, a temporary interruption of good a sort of exception to that, with which we are so familiar, as to consider it the natural course of things. Paley might have done much better with this part of his great work, if he had gone more into detail. Who would be with- out vision, or appetite, or sensibility ? They have their peculiar pains to be sure; but when we are in health, who would forego the pleasure to escape the pain ? So with every thing else. And yet there are those, who cannot or will not perceive, that even here, on this earth, we have more to enjoy than to suf- fer. Should their vision be checked for a day, by disease or accident, how do they pass that day ? In considering with gratitude the nature and vastness of what they had always before enjoyed ? In calling up anew the delightful sen- sations they have had from their youth up, from the perpetual ministering of that sense, which would be r^ore inconceivable perhaps than any other, if we were born without eyes ? Nt> indeed but in dwelling upon the deprivation, the suffering at the time, and the darkness of the future, with unthankful hearts. They count their loss only, without reckoning their gain. They re- proach God for withdrawing a miraculous power; but they never thank him for the use of it. And so too, if 'hey suffer bodily pain it is but for a few hours in a long life; and yet they are so impatient and so unreasonable as to overlook and forget forever all their bodily pleasures. So with our appetites a certain degree of hunger if satisfied, we call pleasure: if unsatis- fied, pain. Yet if we happen to be hungry a little too much, or a little too long so hUngry for a single day in the course of a life, as to suffer, we are perpetually recurring to it, and complaining of it, as a tyrannical abridg- ment of our right to be just as hungry as may be most agreeable to ourselves: Or if we happen to have no appetite for awhile, then our remonstrances take another shape. We would rather be hungry, please God; arid if we are not hungry, whose fault is it ? Not ours, most assuredly; we try hard enough, and pray hard enough, and with a spirit as discontented as need be. Who would like, though he were assured of uninterrupted health, to go through life, with- out ever feeling drowsiness, or hunger, or thirst ? And yet, what are drowsi- ness, hunger and thirst, but so many pains, the alleviation of which is plea- sure? So with all the enjoyments of life. We are surrounded with enjoyment. To live is to enjoy. To eat, or drink, or sleep, is to enjoy, and every body would acknowledge it, if he had not been made insensible of the truth by too long, or too uninterrupted indulgence. To breathe is to enjoy it has grown into a proverb the poets call it luxury. So with sky and air and earth and sea: But do we reckon these enjoyments "in our thankfulness ? No indeed never. It is enough for us to complain of their cessation or interruption, though it be only for a cloudy afternoon or a head-ache. Hence the necessity of our suf- fering here nothing else ever did, or ever could make us either grateful for what we enjoy; or even sensible of what we enjoy. How blessed is the light of day, or the breath of the fresh wind to the prisoner, or the sick? Yet neither would care for light or wind, if he were to enjoy it forever. Suffering makes us grateful: humanizes the heart: leads to sympathy, to fortitude, to af- fection, to love, to virtue to all that makes life desirable. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. without augmenting those of others. Two states, like two individuals, are enriched by mutual com- merce, and all exchange is founded upon reciprocal advantages. (40) Happily too, the effects of evil are not always evil. They frequently assume a different shape. Thus ju- dicial punishments applied to offences, although they produce an evil of the first order, cease to be regard- ed in society as an evil, since they produce a good of the second order. They lead to alarm and danger, but for whom ? For a class of malefactors who ex- pose themselves to both; if they were quiet, they would never be troubled with alarm or danger. O We never should be able to subjugate, even par- tially, the great empire of evil, if we had not learnt to make use of one evil in combating others. It has been necessary to look for auxiliaries among pains to oppose other pains which crowded upon us from every side. It is thus, that in the art of curing one class of maladies, well-managed poisons have come to act as remedies. (40) A liberal view, and one that was eloquently supported by Mr. Bentham, in a pamphlet published in 1793, and addressed to the French people, who had just made him a French citizen; but a view which cannot be maintained, if we take the language of the text in a vulgar sense. A nation, like an indi- vidual might be enriched by driving hard bargains by selling dear and buy- ing cheap; in other words, by studying her own interest exclusively. But if all the nations of the earth were considered as one family; and if the great- est happiness of the greatest number were the measure of wealth (as it should be) , then all nations would be enriched by driving a fair and equal trade with one another, by interchanging freely. N. 268 DUMONT'S BENTHAM CHAPTER XI. REASONS FOR DECLARING CERTAIN ACTS TO BE OFFENCES. WE have made the analysis of evil : that analysis proves that there are actions, from which results more evil than good : It is acts of this nature, or at least, those which have been so reputed, that legislators have prohibited. A prohibited act is what is called an offence. To make these prohibitions respected, punishments were necessary. But is it proper to constitute certain actions of- fences? or in other words, is it proper to subject them to legal punishment? What a question ! Are not all men agreed upon it ? Are we to try to prove an acknowledged truth, a truth so well established in the mind of man? All men are agreed upon it. Be it so. But on what is founded that agreement ? Demand of each his reasons. You will find a strange diversity of in- terest and principles : You will find it not only among the people, but among philosophers. Would it be time lost to look for a uniform ground of assent in a matter so essential ? The agreement which we see, is founded only on prejudices ; and these prejudices vary according to times and places, according to opinions and customs. People have always said that such an action is an of- fence, and we therefore believe it to be an offence. Such is the guide of the multitude, and even of the legislator. But if usage has made innocent actions PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 269 crimes; if it makes venial offences appear heavy, and heavy offences light ; if it has varied every where, it is clear that we must subject it to some rule, and not re- ceive it for a rule. Let us appeal here to the princi- ple of utility. It will confirm the decrees of the people wherever they are just ; it will reverse them wherever they are pernicious. I suppose myself a stranger to all the denominations of vice and virtue. 1 am called to consider human actions only by their good or evil effects. I begin with opening two accounts. I pass to the account of pure profit all pleasures ; to that of (41) loss all the pains. I weigh the interests of all parties faithfully ; the man who is branded already by prejudice for a cul- prit, and he who has been adjudged virtuous, are for the moment equal before me. I will even judge the prejudged, and weigh in that new balance every ac- tion, for the purpose of forming a catalogue of such as ought to be permitted, and such as ought to be forbidden. That operation which at first appeared so compli- cated, will become easy by aid of the distinction that we have made between evil of the first order, of the second, and of the third. Have I to examine an outrageous act upon the safety of an individual ? I compare all the pleasure, in other words, all the profit, which could arise from such act to the author, with all the evil or all the loss which would result to the party injured. I see at once that the evil of the first order exceeds the good of the first order. But I do not stop there. The ac- tion leads to danger and alarm in society. The evil which at first was confined to but one, spreads every where now, in the shape of terror. The pleasure re- sulting from the action is only for one ; the pain is for a thousand, for ten thousand, for all. The dis- (41) Pure loss? N. 270 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. proportion already prodigious, appears to be infinite, if I pass to the evil of the third order, in considering, that if the act in question is not repressed, there will result from it universal and durable discouragement, a cessation of labour, and finally the dissolution of society. Let us now review the strongest desires, those of which the satisfaction is accompanied with the great- est pleasure ; and we shall see that their accomplish- ment, when they succeed at the expense of security, is much more fruitful in evil than in good. (42) I. We will begin with enmity. It is the most fruitful cause of attempts against the honour and the person. I have conceived, no matter why, enmity against you. Passion leads me astray : I insult you, I humble you, I wound you. The sight of your pain gives me at the time an emotion of pleasure. But even at the time, is it to be believed that my plea- sure is equal to your pain ? If every atom of your pain could be represented in my mind, is it probable that every atom of pleasure which might correspond with it there, would be of the same intensity ? And yet, it is but a few atoms scattered by your pain which are presented to my distracted and troubled imagination : With you, nothing is lost ; with me, the greatest part is always dissipated and thrown away. But this pleasure, such as it is, is not long in reveal- ing its natural impurity. Humanity, the principle which nothing can utterly stifle in the most atrocious minds, awakens a secret remorse in mine. Fears of every sort, the fear of vengeance, either on your part or on the part of those who are connected with you; fear of the public voice ; religious fears, if there re- mains in me a spark of religion ; all these fears comejto trouble my security, and soon destroy my (42) Observe what a beautiful system of morals we have here. Follow it out, and see to what a magnificent issue we are conducted. At some future day, I hope to give a summary view of Mr. Bentham's unpublished system of Deontology. I have it in MS., as I took it down from his own lips. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 271 triumph. Passion is withered ; pleasure is no more ; self-reproach follows. But with you, the pain still abides, and may abide yet longer. So much for light wounds, which are scarred over by time. But how is it with cases where from the very nature of the in- jury, the sore is incurable ; as where a member has been struck off, or features disfigured, or faculties de- stroyed ? Weigh the evils their intensity, their du- ration, their consequences ; measure them in every way, and see how in every thing, pleasure is inferior to pain. (43) Let us pass to the effects of the second order. The news of your misfortune spreads far and wide the poison of terror. Every man who has an enemy, or who may have an enemy, thinks with affright of all that may inspire the passion of hatred. Among the feeble who have so many things to envy, and to dispute about, that a thousand paltry jealousies are forever throwing them together, the spirit of revenge prepares a series of interminable evils. (44) Thus every act of cruelty produced by a passion, the principle of which is in every heart, and from which every body may suffer, may cause an alarm which will continue until the punishment of the of- fender has removed the danger from the side of in- justice. * * (45) Here is a suffering common to all ; and let us not overlook another pain (43) If you would enjoy the whole worth of this profound, clear, and satis- factory view of the case, forget what you have just read, and ask yourself how you would have proceeded to prove that the pain was either greater or less, I care not which, than the pleasure. If you still doubt, propose the same ques- tion to another. Select the clearest head you know : hear all that can be said on the subject, and then go back to our author. You will then be asto- nished, if you are not already. N. (44) Such are, in fact, the fends that prevail among barbarous or semi-bar- barous tribes. They are bequeathed, from generation to generation, forever. N. (45) The meaning of this I have not been able to make out, with any sort of satisfaction to myself. It reads thus in the original, " fera eprouver une alarme qui continuera jusqu' d ce que la punition du coupable ait transports, le danger du cotede V injustice, de /' inimitie cruelle,' perhaps there may be an omission of a relative before de, I'inimitie. N. 272 DUMONT'S BENT1IAM. which results from it, that pain of sympathy which is felt by all generous hearts at the sight of such crimes. II. If we examine now those acts which proceed from that imperious desire to which nature has trusted for the perpetuity of the species, and for so large a part of its happiness, we shall see that when it tres- passes upon the safety of the person, or the domes- tic condition, the good which results from its gratifi- cation is not to be compared with the evil which flows from it. I speak here only of the attempt which manifestly endangers the safety of the person rape. We are not by a gross and puerile pleasantry to deny the existence of the crime, nor to diminish its horror. . Whatever we may say, even those women who are the most prodigal of their favours, would not have them snatched with a brutal fury. But here the greatness of the alarm renders all discussion upon the primitive evil useless. Whatever may be the actual offence, the possible offence will be always an object of horror. The more common that desire which gives birth to the crime, the greater the alarm. At a period when the laws were not powerful enough to repress it, nor manners strict enough to hinder it, it led to scenes of vengeance, the traces of which may be found in every chapter of history. Whole nations took part in the quarrel ; hatred was passed down from father to son. It appears that the severe con- finement of the Greek women, which was unknown in the time of Homer, owed its origin to a period of trouble and revolution, when the feebleness of the law had multiplied these disorders and spread a ge- neral terror. III. As to the motive of cupidity : In comparing the pleasure of acquiring by usurpation, with the pain of losing by it, the one would not be an equivalent for the other. But there are cases, in which, if it were necessary to stop with evils of the first order, the PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 273 good would possess an incontestable preponderance over the evil. In considering; the offence under this point of view alone, we could not assign any good reason to justify the rigour of the law. Every thing turns upon the evil of the second order ; that is the evil which gives to the action the character of an of- fence ; that is the evil which makes punishment neces- sary. Let us take, for exampje, the physical desire, which has for its object the satisfying of hunger. Let an indigent man, pressed by want, steal bread from the house of a rich man, bread which perhaps may save the poor man's life. Can we put in com- parison the good he does to himself, with the loss that occurs to the rich man ? We may apply the same ob- servation to less striking cases. Let a man be a pub- lic defaulter. He enriches himself, and he impover- ishes nobody. The wrong which he does to indivi- duals, is reduced to impalpable parts. It is not then because of the evil of the first order, that it is neces- sary to make these actions crimes ; it is because of the evil of the second order. If the pleasure attached to the satisfying of desires, so powerful as hatred, lust, and hunger, against the will of others interested, is so far from equalizing the evil which ensues the disproportion will appear much greater where the motives are less active and powerful. The desire of self-preservation is the only one which now appears to demand a separate enquiry. Suppose it regards an evil which the law itself im- poses upon an individual ; which must be for some very pressing reason, such as the necessity of causing the ordinary punishments of the courts to be execut- ed ; punishments without which there would be no safety no government. But suffer the desire of escaping from this pain to be satisfied, and the law finds itself so far struck with imbecility. The evil which esults from that satisfaction is then that which re- 35 274 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. suits from the imbecility of the laws, or what amounts to the same thing, from the non-existence of law. But the evil which results from the non-existence of law is in fact the assemblage of divers evils, which the laws are established to prevent; that is to say, of all the evils that men are subject to experience on the part of men. A single triumph obtained by the in- dividual over the laws in that way, should not be enough to fasten upon them the character of ineffi- ciency. Nevertheless, every example of this sort is a symptom of weakness ; and one step towards their destruction. There results from it an evil of the se- cond order; an alarm more or less of danger; and if the laws connive at all at such evasion, they are in array against themselves ; to avoid a small evil, they would run in the way of a greater. Remains the case where an individual repels an evil, to which the laws have not wished to expose him. But since they do not wish him to submit to this evil, they wish him not to submit to it. To avoid such evil is for him a good. It is possible that in his efforts to preserve himself, he may cause an evil greater than would be equivalent to the good. The evil that he produces in his own defence shall it be bounded to what is necessary for that purpose ; or shall it go further ? What relation bears the evil which he has done, to the evil that he has prevented ? It is equal, or greater, or less ? Was the evil that he has escaped capable of compensation, if instead of defending himself by such a costly method, he had submitted to it for a while. (46) These are so many questions of fact, which the law ought to take into consideration, for the purpose of settling certain de- tails on the subject of self-defence. It is a subject which belongs to the penal code, in examining the (46) Here we have the whole doctrine of the Friends, their Don-resist ance and all, reduced to a philosophical measurement. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 275 means of justification, or extenuation with regard to offences. It is enough to observe here, that in all these cases, whatever may be the evil of the first order, all the evil that an individual can do in defence of himself, will produce no alarm, no danger. Unless he is attacked and his safety endangered, other men have nothing to fear from him. 276 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. CHAPTER XII. O F TH E LIMITS WHICH SEPARATE MOKALS FROM LEGISLATION. (47) MORALITY in general is the act of directing the actions of men, so as to produce the greatest possible amount of happiness. Legislation ought to have precisely the same object in view. But although these two arts, or these two sciences have the same end in view, they differ much in their extent. All actions, whether public or private, are the springs of morals. It is a guide which may con- duct an individual, as it were by the hand, through all the details of life, through all the relationships of society. Legislation cannot do this, and if it could, it ought not to exercise a continual and direct inter- ference with the conduct of men. Morality prescribes to each individual to do whatever is advantageous to himself and to the community. But as there are ma- ny acts useful to the community which the legislator ought never to command: So are there many hurtful acts, which he ought not to forbid, although morality may. Legislation in a word has much the same centre as morality, though not the same circumfer- ence. There are two reasons for the difference: 1. Le- gislation cannot secretly influence the conduct of men (47) One of the best chapters in the work. It deserves to be circulated in a pamphlet, far and wide, through our country. Our legislators are continu- ally erring (and so indeed are the British) on the subjects of legislation. They attempt too much, a certain way of doing too little. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 277 but by punishment : these punishments are so many evils, which are no further justifiable, than as they produce a greater sum of good. But in many cases where we might wish to strengthen a moral precept by a penalty, the evil of the fault would be less than the evil of the penalty; the means necessary for se- curing the execution of the law would be of a nature to spread a degree of alarm more hurtful than the evil that we might wish to prevent. 2. Legislation is often stopped by the fear of in- cluding the innocent while striving to reach the guil- ty. Whence comes the danger? From the difficul- ty of denning the offence, of giving a clear and pre- cise idea of it. For example, severity, ingratitude, perfidy, and other vices which the popular sanction punishes, cannot come within the supervision of the law, for we cannot give an exact definition of them, as of robbery, homicide, perjury, etc. But the better to distinguish the true limits of morals and legislation, let us look here at the most ordinary classification of moral duties. Private morality regulates the actions of man, both in that part of his conduct which concerns himself alone, and in that which may concern the interest of others. What interests himself composes a class of actions which are called (improperly perhaps) duties toward one's self, and the quality manifested by the fulfilment of these duties, receives the name of pru- dence. That part of his conduct which concerns others, forms a class of actions which are called duties toward others. But there are two methods of con- sulting the happiness of others ; the one negative, in abstaining from diminishing it, the other positive, in labouring to augment it ; the first constitutes probity, the second benevolence. Morality upon these three points needs the aid of law, but not to the same degree nor in the same man- ner. 278 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. L The rules of prudence will suffice almost al- ways for themselves. If a man is wanting to him- self (blind to his own interest), it is not his will which is in fault, it is his judgment. If he wrongs himself, it is only from error. The dread of self-in- jury is so strong a restraining motive, it would be use- less to add to it the fear of an artificial pain. (48) The contrary, some one will say, is demonstrated by facts : excesses at play, those of intemperance, the illicit commerce of the sexes accompanied so often with great danger, are enough to prove that in- dividuals have not sufficient prudence to abstain from what is hurtful. Confining myself to a general answer, I should say, first, that in the majority of these cases, the punish- ment being easily eluded, is inefficacious,- and second- ly, that the evil produced by the penal law would be much greater than that of the offence. Suppose, for example, that a legislator believes him- self justified in trying to extirpate by direct laws, drunkenness and fornication. It will be necessary to begin with a multitude of rules. Complication of the law the first inconvenience, and a very serious one. The more easily these crimes are concealed, the more severe should be the penalties, for the purpose of counterbalancing, by the terror of example, the hope of impunity, which is always reviving. (49) Exces- sive rigour of the law second inconvenience, not less grave. The difficulty of procuring proof would be such, that it would be necessary to encourage in- formers, and to keep up an army of spies. Necessity (48) Yet the legislators of England, of other parts of Europe, and of thia country, would punish the self-murderer; now by forfeiture, now by ignomi- nious burial, now by driving a stake through the body. N. (49) Here we have the germ of Mr. Bentham's celebrated work on RE- WARDS AND PUNISHMENTS, a work which has led to a more philosophi- cal study of the principles of penal legislation, than all that ever had been said, or done, or written before. Mr. Livingston (of Louisiana) has built his famous code upon it. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 279 of espionage third inconvenience, worse than the two first. Compare the effects in good and evil. Crimes of that nature, if one may give such a name to such follies, are productive of no alarm ; (50) but the sup- posed remedy would fill the community with fear ; in- nocent or guilty, every one would fear on account of himself or of others. Suspicions and informations would make all society dangerous. Every body would fly from it, and betake himself to mystery and distrust, the overthrow of confidence. Instead of having sup- pressed one vice, the law would have sown the seeds of newer and more dangerous ones. It is true that example may render certain excesses contagious ; and that an evil which would be almost imperceptible if it were confined to a small number of individuals, may become very obvious by its extent. All that the legislator can do, respecting offences of this sort, is to subject it to some slight punishment in cases of scandalous notoriety, that will suffice to give it a taint of illegality which would excite against it the popular sanction. It is here that legislators in general, have legislated too much. Instead of trusting themselves to the pru- dence of individuals, they have treated them like chil- dren and slaves. They have yielded to the same pas- sion as the founders of the religious orders, who, the better to show their authority, and littleness of spirit, held their subjects in the most abject dependence, and marked out for them, day by day, moment by moment, their occupations, their aliment, their time of going to bed and their time of getting up, with all the intermediate details of behaviour. There are celebrated codes, wherein we discover a multitude of shackles of that sort : such as idle restraints of mar- riage, punishments for celibacy, sumptuary laws fix- (50) No definite alarm perhaps; for such things occur by the consent of parties. But ia there no vague alarm for the virtuous ? for parents, and for guardians ? N. 280 DUMOXT'S BENTUAM. ing the fashion of habits, the expense of entertain- ments, the furniture of a house, the ornaments of women ; there are infinite details upon food which is prohibited or forbidden, ablutions of such or sueh a nature, purifications of health or of property, and a thousand other puerilities which add to all the incon- venience of a useless restraint, that of brutifying a people, by covering these absurdities with a veil of mystery. Yet more unhappy are the states where it has been sought to produce uniformity of religious opinion, by penal laws. The choice of a religion is a matter of individual prudence. If men are persuaded that their eternal happiness depends upon a certain worship or a certain faith, what can the legislator oppose to such an interest? I need not insist upon this truth : it is now generally acknowledged; but in tracing the boun- daries of legislation, I could not overlook those, which it is most important never to pass. General Rule. Leave to individuals the greatest possible latitude, in every case where they can only injure themselves, (51) for they are the best judges of their own interests. (52) If they deceive them- selves, the moment they perceive their error, it is to be presumed they w ill not persist. Do not suffer the power of the law to interfere, unless to prevent their injuring each other. It is there that law is necessary ; it is there that the application of punishment is truly useful, since the rigour shown toward one may ensure the safety of all. II. It is true that there is a natural connexion be- tween prudence and probity; that is to say, that our interest, well understood, (53) will never leave us des (51) Are there any such cases, properly and cautiously speaking ? N. (52) Not always; but if they are not, legislation will do more harm than good, where it abridges liberty in trifles. N. (53) And here too, we have the whole doctrines of utility and self-interest, Ivinjr in a nut-shell. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 281 titute of a motive for abstaining from injury to others. Let us pause a moment upon this point. I say, that, independently of religion and the laws, we have always some natural motives ; that is, motives drawn from our own interest; for consulting the happiness of others. 1. The motive of pure benevolence, a calm and sweet feeling, that we love to enjoy, and which makes one reluctant to cause suffering: 2. The motive of private affections, which exercise their power in domestic life, and within the private circle of our relationships: 3. The desire of a good (repu- tation, and the fear of blame. This is a sort of cal- culation a matter of trade ; we pay, that we may have credit we speak truth, that we may obtain confidence we serve, that we may be served. It is in this sense that a man of wit said, that if probity did not exist, it would be necessary to contrive it, as the means of making a fortune. A man enlightened upon his own interest, would not be guilty even of a concealed crime, whether from the fear of contracting a shameful habit, which will be sure to betray him sooner or later ; or because secrets concealed from penetrating eyes, leave at the bottom of the heart an inquietude which corrupts all pleasure. Whatever he might be able to acquire at the expense of security would be of no value; and if he is jealous of the esteem of men, the best guarantee of it that he can have, is his own esteem. (54) But for an individual to perceive the whole of that connexion between the interest of others and his own, he should possess an enlightened understanding, and a heart free from the seductive passions. The great- er part of mankind have not enough intelligence, nor enough strength of soul, nor enough moral sensi- (54) Who is there to question the sublime philosophy, the profound morality of this? N. 36 282 DUMONT'S BENTHAM bility, for their private worth to be of much use in aid of the law. The legislator ought to sustain the weakness of that natural interest, in adding to it an artificial interest more obvious and more constant. Yet more. In many cases, morality derives its ex- istence from the law, that is to say : To decide whether an action is morally good, or bad, it is ne- cessary to know whether it is permitted or forbidden by the law : it is the same with what concerns pro- perty. A mode of selling and acquiring, contrary to good faith in one country, may be irreproachable in another. It is the same with offences against the state. The state exists only by legislation. We can- not establish the duties of morality without knowing the institution of the legislator. For example, there are countries where it would be a crime for a subject to enlist in the service of another ; and countries where to do so, would be legitimate and honoura- ble.* III. As to beneficence, we are bound to distinguish. Law may extend itself far enough for general objects, such as the care of the poor, &c. ; but in detail, we must refer it to private morality. Beneficence has its mysteries, and employs itself upon evils so unfore- seen, or so secret, that the law cannot take notice of them. Besides it is to the free-will of the individual that beneficence owes its energy; if the same acts were to be commanded, they would be no longer benefits, they would lose their attractiveness and their essence. It is morality, and above all, it is religion which forms here the necessary aid to legislation, and the most kindly tie of humanity. (55) * This touches upon one of the most difficult questions: if the law is not what it ought to be; if it is at open war with the principle of utility shall it be obeyed ? shall it be violated ? or shall we remain neuter between the law which authorizes the evil and the morality which forbids it ? The solution of this problem may be drawn from a consideration of prudence and benevolence. We are to see if there would be more evil in observing the law, than in vio- lating it: Whether the probable evils of obedience are less than the probable evils of disobedience. B. (55) This I take to be editorial; for it is not true of every religion. The author would speak more warily. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 283 However, instead of having done too much in this way, legislators have not done enough ; they should have made the refusal, or omission of an act of hu- manity, a crime, when it is easy to render, and when there results from the refusal any misfortune : to abandon, for example, a wounded person in a solitary road, without looking for help; not to warn a person who is handling poison ; not to reach a hand to an- other who has fallen overboard, or into a place out of which he cannot escape without assistance. In these cases, and others of the same sort, who would com- plain of a punishment which was satisfied by expos- ing the delinquent to a certain degree of shame, or by rendering him responsible in his fortune for the evil which he might have prevented ? I may observe here, that the legislature should have gone somewhat further than it has done, relative to the interests of the inferior animals : (56) Not that I approve the law of the Gentoos in that respect. There are good reasons for making animals serve for the nourishment of man, and for destroying those who are troublesome or noxious : We are the better for it, and they are none the worse, for they are not trou- bled as we are with long and bitter anticipations of the future ; and the death which they receive from us, may always be less painful than that which they would receive in the inevitable course of nature.* But what can we say to justify the useless torments which they are made to suffer, by our cruel whims ? Among (56) The friends of humanity will read this with pleasure. They are be- ginning to perceive, and to acknowledge, that the dumb beast may be legislated for, without a derogation of dignity. And why not, if he may be tortured to death by man, without reproach to his dignity ? N. * A friend has added a note here, which is worth preserving. This is a subject which passes in review with every humane and enlightened mind. I have quieted my conscience upon this matter without robbing my stomach, by believing that population, applying the word to man and beast, is governed entirely by the means of subsistence. Man is checked by a regard to consequences the brute creation can be restrained only by preventing sexual intercourse, or by violent death. 284 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. all the reasons which might be given for declaring gratuitous cruelties toward them a crime, I shall con- fine myself to that which relates to my subject : it is a means of cultivating the general sentiment of be- nevolence, and of rendering men kinder, or at least of preventing that brutal depravity, which, after hav- ing amused itself with animals, may require, in its after-growth to be assuaged by human suffering.* * See the voyage of Barrow to the Cape of Good Hope; and the cruelty of the Dutch colonists toward the inferior animals and the slaves there. B. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 285 CHAPTER XIII. (57) EXAMPLES OF FALSE MODES OF REASONING it THE SUBJECT OF LEGISLATION. THE object of this introduction has been to give a clear idea of the Principle of Utility, and of the manner of reasoning conformably to that principle. There results from it a logic of legislation, which may be summed up in few words. What is it to give a good reason, for a law? It is to show the good and the evil which that law tends to produce : so much good, so much argument in its favour: so much evil, so much argument against it. But we are not to forget, that good and evil are but other names for pleasure and pain. What is it to give a bad reason f It is to allege for or against a law, any other thing than its effects, whether good or evil. Nothing more simple ; yet nothing more new. It is not the principle of Utility which is new ; on the contrary, it is of necessity as ancient as the race of man. Whatever there is of truth in morals, whatever there is of good in law, proceeds from this principle ; but it has been more often followed from instinct, even while it was attacked by reason. If, in the books of legislation, it throws up here and there a few flashes, they are soon stifled in the smoke which surrounds them. Beccaria is the only one who de- serves an exception ; and yet, even in his work, rea- (57) This chapter contains the very pith and marrow of Mr. Bentham's ce- lebrated work on FALLACIES, reviewed in the Edinburgh Review, and West- minster Review. N. 286 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. i sons may be found which are drawn from false sources. It is nearly two thousand years since Aristotle un- dertook to form under the name of sophisms, a com- plete catalogue of the divers modes of reasoning false- ly. His catalogue, improved by the help of what so long an interval has given birth to, would have here its use and its place : but it is a work which would lead too far.* I shall confine myself to presenting some heads of error on the subject of legislation; it is a sort of map reduced from the most common false routes. The principle of Utility will be worthily il- lustrated by the contrast, 1 . Antiquity of the law is not reason. The antiquity of a law may create a prejudice in its favour ; but it is not a reason of itself. If the law in question has contributed to public happiness, the more ancient it is, the more easy it will be to show its good effects, (58) and to prove its utility in a di- rect maner. 2. Religious authority is not reason. This mode of reasoning has become rare in our age but for a long while it prevailed. The work of Algernon Sydney is full of quotations from the Old Testament, and he discovered there a foundation for a system of democracy, as Bossuet did, the basis of absolute power. Sydney wished to combat the parti- zans of divine right and passive obedience with their own weapons. If we suppose a law to emanate from the Divinity, we suppose it to emanate from supreme goodness and wisdom. The object of such a law, therefore, could * See the Traite de Sophisms Politiques, that I have published from the MS. of Mr. Bentham, (at the end of Tactiquedes Assemblers Legislatives, 1816. 2 vols. 8vo.) D. (58) This may be doubted. A law may have a bad effect upon the man- ners, and morals, and character of people, and yet, because of its antiquity, it may not be possible to show this. We must be able, either to see, or to trace the changes that are brought about by law ; or how can we show its effects to be good or bad ? N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 287 only be the greatest utility : But to justify the law, it is always necessary to show that utility. 3. Reproach of innovation is not reason. To reject all innovation is to reject all improve- ment : In what a condition should we be, if we had followed such a principle up to this time ? For what exists now, had its beginning ; whatever is now esta- blishment, was once innovation. Those who approve a law to-day because of its antiquity, would have blamed it once for being new. 4. Arbitrary definition is not reason. Nothing is more common among jurists and politi- cal writers, than to build up theories, and even to construct huge works upon definitions that are pure- ly arbitrary. All the artifice consists in taking a word in a particular sense, far out of the common ac- ceptation, and employing this word as it had never been employed before, thereby bewildering the read- er with an appearance of depth and mystery. Montesquieu himself has fallen into this vice of rea- soning in the outset of his work. Wishing to define law, he proceeds from metaphor to metaphor ; he brings together objects the most unlike, the divinity, the material world, superior intelligences, beasts and men ; from which we learn that the laws are rela- tions and eternal relations. Thus the definition is more obscure than the thing to be defined. The word law, in the proper sense, gives a tolerably clear idea to every mind the word relation gives none at all. The word law, in the figurative sense, produces no- thing biit equivocal ideas, and Montesquieu, who should have dissipated these clouds, augments them. The characteristic of a false definition is, that it cannot be employed in a fixed manner. A little fur- ther (Ch. III.) the author defines the law differently. Law in general, says he, is human reason, inasmuch as it governs all the people of the earth. These terms are more familiar, but there does not result from them 288 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. any clearer idea. Does it not follow that all the fero- cious, absurd, or contradictory laws, in a state of per- petual change, are always human reason ? 'It appears to me that reason, far from being law, is often oppos- ed to law. This first chapter of Montesquieu has given rise to a deal of gossip. Men have exhausted their minds in trying to discover metaphysical mysteries where they are not. Beccaria himself, is carried away by that obscure idea of relation. To interrogate a man, whether he is guilty or innocent, is to force him, says he, to accuse himself. This procedure shocks him, and why ? Because, according to him, it is to confound all relations. (59) What does he mean by that ? To enjoy, to suffer, to give pleasure, to give pain ; these are expressions that I understand the meaning of ; but to follow relations, and to confound relations that is what I do not understand at all. These abstract terms do not excite any idea in me, nor awaken any opinion. I feel an absolute indiffer- ence about relations ; but pleasures and pains they interest me, they are intelligible. Rousseau was not satisfied with that definition of Montesquieu ; he has given one of his own, which he puts forth as a great discovery. Law, says he, is the expression of the general will. There is then (59) ' No man can be judged a criminal, until he be found guilty ; nor can society take from him the public protection, until it have been proved that he has violated the conditions on which it was granted. What right, then, but that of power, can authorise the punishment of a citizen, so long as there re- mains any doubt of his guilt ? The dilemma is frequent. Either he is guilty, or not guilty. If guilty, he should only suffer the punishment ordained by the laws, and torture becomes useless, as his concession is unnecessary. If he be not guilty, you torture the innocent ; for, in the eye of the law, every man is innocent, whose crime has not been proved. Besides, it is confounding all relations, to expect that a man should be both the accuser and accused ; and that pain should be the test of truth, as if truth resided in the muscles and fibres of a wretch in torture. By this method, the robust will escape, and the feeble be condemned. These are the inconveniences of this pretended test of truth, worthy only of a cannibal ; and which the llomans, in many respects barbarous, and whose savage virtue has been too much admired, reserved for their slaves alone.' BECCARIA on Crimes, Chap. xvi. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION 289 no law any where, about which the people in a body have-not debated ; there is no law but in an absolute democracy ; he has abrogated by this defi- nition, every existing law. He has struck with im- becility all those which have been made successively by all the nations of the earth, except, per adventure, those of the Republic of San Marino. /). Metaphor is not reason. I understand by this, either a metaphor, properly speaking, or an allegory, of which we make use (at first) for clearing or ornamenting a discourse, and which by little and little becomes the foundation of an argument. Blackstone, (60) so great an enemy to all reform, as to blame the introduction of the English language into the reports of the law, has neglected nothing to inspire the same prejudice in his readers. He repre- sents the law as a castle, as a fortress, which cannot be attacked without weakening it. He does not give the metaphor, I acknowledge, for a reason ; but why employ it at all ? To lead the imagination astray ; to prejudice the reader against all ideas of reform ; to give him a mechanical fear of innovation in the law, he infuses into the mind a false idea which produces the same effect as a false reason. He should have seen that his allegory might be turned against him- self. After he has made the law a castle, is it not natural for ruined suitors to represent it as crowded with harpies. (61) The house of a man, say the English, is his castle. A poetical expression is not a reason ; for if the house of a man is his castle by night, why is it not by day ? If it is an inviolable asylum for the proprietor, why should it not be for every other person whom he may think proper to receive ? The current of justice is (60) 3 Com. Ch. XVII. (61) And why may not a castle be repaired, if unsuitable to the age, or unsafe ? N. 37 290 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. sometimes checked in England by this puerile notion of liberty. It would appear that criminals ought to have their holes, like the foxes, for the pleasure of hunters. (62) A church in catholic countries, is the House of God. That metaphor has led to its being made an asylum for criminals. To tear away by force, those who have fled for refuge to his House, were to fail in re- spect for God. The balance of trade has produced a multitude of arguments founded upon this metaphor. People have imagined that they saw nations rise and fall in their mutual commerce, like the basins of a scale charged with unequal weights. They are disquieted with whatever appears to be a fault in the equilibri- um. They imagine that one must lose and the other gain, as if something had been taken from one scale, and put into the other. The phrase mother -country has given birth to a number of prejudices and false arguments in all the questions concerning colonies and the metropolis. Duties are imposed upon the colonies ; and they are charged with crimes founded also upon the metaphor concerning their filial dependence. 6. Fiction is not reason. I understand by fiction, a fact notoriously false, upon which people reason as if it were true. The celebrated Cocceiji, compiler of the Code Fre- deric, furnishes an example of this mode of reason- ing, on the subject of wills. After a deal of talk about natural right, he approves of the law of leaving to individuals the power of bequest. And why ? It is because the heir and the defunct are but one and the same person ; and consequently the heir ought to continue to enjoy the defunct's property. (Cod. Fred, part II. 1. 110, p. 156.) It is- true that he gives elsewhere some (62) It gives them another chance for another day of sport. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 291 arguments which have to do with the principle of Uti- lity ; but this is in the preface, where he only gives a prelude. The serious reason, the judicial reason, is the identity of the living with the dead. The English jurists, to justify in certain cases, the confiscation of goods, have hit upon a reason suffi- ciently like that of the chancellor of the great Fre- derick. They have imagined a corruption of blood, W 7 hich stops the course of legal succession ; a man is punished with death for the crime of high treason ; the innocent son is not only deprived of the estate of his father, but he cannot even inherit from his grand- father, because the channel through which the estate ought to pass, has been sullied. This fiction of ori- ginal political sin, serves as a foundation for this point of right. But why stop there ? If there is a corrup- tion of blood, why not destroy the vile refuse of a criminal stock ? In the seventh chapter of the first book, Black- stone, in speaking of the royal authority, has aban- doned himself to all the puerility of fiction. The king has his attributes, he is present every where, he can do no wrong, he is immortal. These ridiculous paradoxes, the fruit of servility, so far from giving just ideas upon the prerogatives of royalty, only serve to dazzle and mislead, to give to reality itself an air of fable and prodigy. They are not mere flourishes, they are the foundation of many theories. They are made use of to explain royal pre- rogatives, which might be justified by very good rea- sons, without perceiving that the best cause is injured, by seeking to sustain it with futile arguments. The judges, says he again, are the mirrors in ivhich the linage of that king is reflected. How puerile ! Is it not to expose to ridicule the very object upon which he proposes to throw splendour? But there are bolder and more important fictions, which have played a grand part in politics, and which 292 DUMONT'S BExXTHAM. have produced celebrated works : they are the con- tracts. The Leviathan of Hobbes, a work little known, and detested by the prejudiced now, as the code of despotism, made the whole body of political society depend upon an imaginary contract between the peo- ple and the sovereign. The people, by this contract, have renounced their natural liberty, which was pro- ductive only of evil, and deposited all power in the hands of the prince. All these contrary wills have come to reunite themselves in his, or rather to be swallowed up in his. What he wills is reckoned the will of all his subjects. When David put Uriah to death, he acted in that by the consent of Uriah. Uriah had agreed to all that David could do to him. The prince, by this system, may sin against God, but he cannot sin against man, because all that he does, proceeds from the general consent. W T e cannot have the idea of resisting him, because it implies the con- tradiction of resisting ourselves! Locke, whose name is as dear, as that of Hobbes is odious to the partizans of liberty, has also laid the foundations of government in contract. He maintains that there exists a contract between the prince and the people ; that the prince undertakes to govern ac- cording to the laws for the general good, and that the people, on their side, undertake to obey, so long as the prince remains faithful to the conditions, by virtue of which he has received the crown. Rousseau rejects with indignation the idea of this two-sided contract between the prince and the peo- ple. But he has imagined a social contract, whereby all engage with all, which is the only legitimate base of governments. Society only exists by the free agreement of all the members. O In all this, what there is common to the three sys- tems, otherwise so opposite, is, that of beginning all political theory by a fiction ; for these three contracts PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 293 are all equally fictitious. They exist only in the imagination of their authors. Not only do we find no trace of them in history but history furnishes every where, proof to the contrary. That of Hobbes is a manifest lie. Despotism has been every where the effect of violence, and of false religious ideas. If there exists a people who have placed the supreme authority, by a public act, in the hands of their chief, it is not true that this people have agreed to all the cruelties and caprices of the sovereign. The singular act of the Danish people, in 1660, contains essential clauses, which limit the supreme power. The social contract of Rousseau, has not been so severely judged, since men are not difficult upon the logic of a system, which establishes all that they most love, liberty and equality. But where was that universal convention held? What are its clauses? In what language is it preserved? Why has it al- ways been unknown? Was it in escaping from the wilderness, in giving up a savage life, that they have had these grand ideas of morals and politics, upon which this primitive convention was built? The contract of Locke is more specious, since, in fact, there are monarchies, in which the sovereign does undertake to do certain things on coming to the throne, and agrees to certain conditions on the part of the nation which he is going to rule over. The contract, however, is still a fiction. The es- sence of a contract is in the free consent of the par- ties interested. It supposes that all the objects of the engagement are specific and known : But if the prince, on coming to the throne, is free to accept or refuse; are the people equally so? Are a few vague acclamations, an act both of individual and universal consent? Can this contract be binding on that mul- titude of individuals who never heard of it ; who have not been called to sanction it ; and who would 294 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. not have been able to refuse their consent, without exposing their fortune and life ? Besides, in most monarchies, this imaginary contract has not even that feeble appearance of reality ; not the shadow of an engagement between the sovereign and the people can be perceived. We are not to make the happiness of the human race dependent upon a fiction. We are not to erect the social pyramid upon foundations of sand, or upon a clay that crumbles. Let us leave these toys to children; men ought to speak the language of truth and reason. The true political tie is in the immense interest of man to maintain a government. Without government, is no safety, no family, no property, no industry. It is there that we are to seek the basis and the reason for all governments, whatever may be their origin or their form: it is in comparing them with their object, that we are enabled to reason solidly upon their rights and obligations, without having recourse to imaginary contracts, which can only serve to give birth to inter- minable disputes. 7. A fantastical reason is no reason. Nothing is more common than to say, reason wills; eternal reason prescribes, etc. But what is that reason? If it is a distinct view of good and evil, it is a fantasy, a despotism, which shows only the inward persuasion of the speaker. Let us examine the foundation upon which a celebrated jurist has sought to establish the pa- ternal authority. A man of good common-sense would see no difficulty in the question, but a learned man ought to find mystery every where. ' The right of the father over his children,' says Cocceiji, 'is founded upon reason. 1. Children are procreated in the house of which the father is the master. 2. They are born in a family of which he is the head. 3. They are of his seed, and a part of PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 295 his body.' These are the reasons from which he con- cludes, among other things, that a man of forty years, who wishes to marry, ought to abide the consent of an old man in his dotage. What there is in common through all these reasons, is, that no one of them has any reference to the interest of the parties; the au- thor consults neither the advantage of the father, nor that of the children. The right of a father is, from the first, an expres- sion wanting propriety : it is not an unlimited right, an indivisible right: there are many sorts of rights that may be yielded or refused to a father, each for particular reasons. (63) The first reason that he alleges is founded upon a fact which (when true) is only true by accident. Let a traveller have children which are born in a lodging- house, in a vessel, in the house of a friend, behold then the first foundation for parental authority swept away. The children of a servant, those of a soldier, should not be subjected to their father, but to him in whose house they are born. The second reason has no determinate meaning ; or at best, is but a repetition of the first. The child of a man who dwells in the house of his father, of his elder brother, or of his patron, is he born in a family of which his father is the head ? The third reason is as feeble as indecent. ' The child is born from the seed of the father, and makes a part of his body.' If this is the principle of a right, we must agree that it ought to place the power of the mother much above that of the father. Let us remark here an essential difference between the false principles and the true. The principle of Utility, applying itself only to the interest of the par- ties, yields to circumstances, and accommodates itself (63) Not clearly expressed. Perfect or imperfect rights, with their corre- spondent perfect and imperfect obligations, are nevertheless not of a kind that may be yielded or refused at pleasure. N. 296 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. to every want. False principles, being founded upon what is foreign to the interest of individuals, would be inflexible, if they were followed up. Such is the character of this imaginary right founded upon birth. The son belongs naturally to the father, because the matter of which the son is formed has circulated for- merly in the blood of the father ; let him make him unhappy, it matters not; his right cannot be destroy- ed, since you cannot make his son cease to be his son. The corn with which your body is fed, grew in my field ; can it be that you are not therefore my slave ? 8. .Antipathy and sympathy are not reason. It is chiefly in what concerns the penal law, that people go astray by antipathy : Antipathies against actions reputed offences ; antipathies against indivi- duals reputed delinquents ; antipathies against the ministers of justice; antipathies against such or such a pain. This false principle has reigned like a tyrant in this vast province of the law : Beccaria was the first to dare to attack it in front, with arms of une- qualled temper ; but if he did much to destroy the usurper, he did too little toward finding a substitute. It is the principle of antipathy which leads us to speak of a crime as deserving a punishment ; it is the correspondent principle of sympathy which leads us to speak of an action as meriting a reward : The word merit can only lead to passions and to errors. We ought only to look at the good and bad effects. But when I say that antipathies and sympathies are not reason, I understand those of the legislator, for the antipathies and sympathies of the people may be a reason, and a very powerful reason. No matter how absurd or pernicious, the religion, or law, or cus- toms of a people it is enough if they are attached to them. The force of their prejudices, is the mea- sure of management required. To take away an en- joyment, a hope, however chimerical it may be, is to PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 97 do the same injury as if we were to take away a real enjoyment or a justifiable hope. The pain of a single individual, becomes, by sympathy, the pain of all. From this, results a crowd of evils ; antipa- thy against the law, which offends the general pre- judice; antipathy against the body of laws of which it makes a part ; antipathy against the govern- ment which causes them to be executed. A disposi- tion not to contribute to their execution ; a dis- position to' oppose their execution clandestinely; a disposition to take the government out of the power of those who stiffen themselves against the popular will. Evils which drag after them the crimes, the whole of which form that terrible com- pound which is called rebellion, civil-war; evils which lead to the pains to which recourse is had for check- ing them. Such is the chain of gloomy consequen- ces always ready to proceed from an absurd fantasy. The legislator must yield, therefore, to the violence of a current, which carries away whatever opposes it. Let us not forget to observe here, however, that these fantasies are not to be the determining reason of the legislator they are the evils with which he is me- naced, if they are attacked. But ought the legislator to be a slave to the whims of those that he rules over? No. Between impru- dent opposition and servile condescension, there is a safe and honourable middle-way ; it is to attack these whims with the only arms which can prevail, exam- ple and instruction : he must explain : he must ad- dress himself to the public reason, he must allow time for the unmasking of error. True reasons clear- ly exposed, will be necessarily stronger than the false. But the legislator is to go cautiously to work; he need not come into immediate and forcible collision with the public ignorance. Indirect means may answer his purpose better. However, too much deference for prejudices is a 38 29S DUMONT'S BENTHAM. more common defect than the contrary excess. The best projects for the improvement of law are cast away on that common objection. 'Prejudice is op- posed to it We shall offend the people.' But how know we this? How have we consulted the public opinion? What is its organ? Have the whole peo- ple but one uniform way of thinking ? Are all indi- viduals of the same opinion including the nineteen- twentieths who never heard the subject spoken of? Besides, if the multitude are deceived, are they obliged to remain always in error? Will not the illusions that people the darkness disappear in the broad light of day ? W T ould you have the people understand the truth before it is known, even to the philosophers and sages of the earth ? Have we not the example of other nations, that have emerged from the same ig- norance, where the same obstacles have been over- come : After all, the popular prejudices serve less frequent- ly for motives than for pretexts. It is a convenient passport for the follies of statesmen. The ignorance of the people is the favourite argument of the pusilla- nimity and idleness of their rulers ; while their true motives are the prejudices from which they them- selves have not been able to get free. The name of the people is a signature, counterfeited for the justi- fication of their leaders. 9. Begging the question is not reason. Begging the question is one of the sophisms men- tioned by Aristotle ; but it is a Proteus, which is for- ever changing its shape, and renewing its purpose. Begging the question, or rather assuming the ques- tion, consists in making use of the very proposition in dispute, as if it were already proved. This false mode of reasoning insinuates itself into morals and legislation, under the protection of the terms sentimental or impassioned. Sentimental or impassioned terms, are those which, PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 299 beside their principal meaning, have another acces- sary meaning of praise or blame. Neuter terms are those which express only the thing in question, with- out leading one to presume either good or evil; with- out carrying any foreign idea of blame or approba- tion. (64) But, we are to observe that an impassioned term includes or envelopes a proposition not expressed, but understood, which always accompanies the employ- ment of the word, to the understanding of those who employ it : this proposition understood, is either of blame or praise ; but vague and indeterminate. Need I connect the idea of utility with a term which carries generally an accessory idea of blame ? I should appear to advance a paradox, and to contra- dict myself. Were I to say, for example, that such an object of luxury is good ? The proposition would astonish those who are accustomed to attach a sentiment of disap- probation to this word. How am I to examine this particular point, without waking the dangerous association ? I must have re- course to a neuter word. I may say, for example, Such a mode of spending one's revenue, is good. This term provokes no prejudices, and permits the impar- tial examination of the object in question. When Helvetius declared that all our actions pro- ceeded from the motive of interest, every body rose up against him, without even wishing to understand him. And why? It is because the word interest had an evil meaning, a vulgar acceptation, by which it appeared to exclude all motives of pure attachment and benevolence. How many doctrines in political matters are found- ed on impassioned terms! (64) Elsewhere the author distinguishes the terms that are unfavourable, by reason of the collateral sentiment they convey, as dislogistic, in opposition to those that are eulogistic. N. 300 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. One man believes that he has given a reason in fa- vour of a law, by saying that it is conformable to the principles of a monarchy or a democracy ; but that signifies nothing. If there are persons, with whom these words are connected with accessory ideas of approbation, there are others who attach contrary ideas to them. Let the parties put themselves in battle-array ; the dispute would only end with the exhaustion of the combatants; for to begin a true ex- amination, we must give up these impassioned terms, and calculate the effects of the law in question, whether good or evil. Blackstone admires the combination of the three forms of government in the British constitution, and he concludes that it ought to possess all the good qualities united, of monarchy, of aristocracy, and of democracy. Why did he not perceive that without changing his argument, one might draw from it a con- clusion diametrically opposite, and altogether as fair : namely, that the British constitution ought to unite all the peculiar vices of democracy, of aristocracy, and of monarchy ? (65) The word independence is united with certain ac- cessory ideas of dignity and virtue : the word depen- dence, is united to accessory ideas of inferiority and corruption. Wherefore, the panegyrists of the Bri- tish constitution admire the independence of the pow- ers which compose the legislative power : it is to their view the master-piece of political contrivance and sagacity; the most beautiful feature of govern- ment. On the other side, the detractors of that very constitution do not fail to insist upon the dependence of each upon every other of these three powers. Neither in the eulogy, nor in the censure, do we find a reason. (65) One of the first, and certainly the ablest adversary, that Blackstone ever had, was our author, while yet a youth. His work entitled a FRAG- MENT ON GOVERNMENT, was immediately attributed, by such men as Lord Mansfield, to the first writers and reasoners of the day. See p. 27. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 301 If we consider the matter, we find there is no real independence. Have not the king and the majority of the lords a direct influence on the election of the house of commons ? Has not the king the power of prorogueing parliament at any moment ; and is not this power very efficacious ? Does not the king exercise a direct influence upon the honourable and lucrative employments, \vhich he may give and take away at his pleasure ? (66) On the other side, is not the king in a state of dependence upon the two houses of par- liament, and more particularly upon the commons, since he cannot maintain himself without money and without an army, and these two principal objects are absolutely in the hands of the deputies of the nation ? Is the chamber of peers independent, so long as the king may add to their number at pleasure, and turn the suffrages in his favour by the accession of new lords, and exercise further influence by the prospect of rank and of advancement for the body of the peer- age, and by ecclesiastical promotion for the bench of bishops ? Instead of reasoning upon a deceitful word, let us consider the effects. It is the reciprocal dependence of these three powers which produces their harmony, subjects them to fixed rules, and gives them a sys- tematic and sustained march. Hence the necessity of respecting, of observing, of honouring, and of con- ciliating each other. If they were absolutely inde- pendent, there would be continual shocks among them. It would often be necessary to appeal to force ; and they might as well return at once to pure democracy, that is to say, anarchy. I cannot forbear giving two more examples of that error of reasoning, founded upon abusive terms. If we erect a political theory upon the ground of national representation, in attaching ourselves to what- (66) Blackstono calls him the fountain of honour. He might have added which ebbs and flows with the changes of the moon. N. 302 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. ever appears a natural consequence of that abstract idea, we soon begin to contend for universal suffrage, and from consequence to consequence, we proceed at last to show that the representatives ought to be re- newed as often as possible, to the end that the na- tional representation may deserve the name. If we submit this question to the principle of UTI- LITY, we do not reason upon the word ; we look only to the effect. When it concerns the election of a legislative assembly, we ought to give the right of voting only to such as are supposed to have the confi- dence of the people for exercising it. The choice made by men who have not the confi- dence of the people, would weaken their confidence in the legislative assembly. The men who have not the confidence of the peo- ple, are those in whom political integrity, and a pro- per degree of necessary knowledge, cannot be pre- sumed. Political integrity cannot be presumed in those whom want may expose to the temptation of selling it, in those who have no fixed place of habitation, nor in those who have been scourged by justice for certain offences determined by the law. The necessary degree of knowledge cannot be presumed in women, who, by their domestic duties, are led away from the consideration of national af- fairs ; in children, and in adults below a certain age ; nor in those, who by their poverty are deprived of the first elements of education. (67) It is upon these principles, and upon others like them, that we are to establish the necessary qualifi- cations of a voter ; and it is also from a consideration (67) Cannot be presumed, to be sure; but may be proved. And else- where, the author himself goes far toward proving the propriety of a change, where he acknowledges that women, instead of being represented by men, because their interests are the same, are not represented at all, because, in fact, their interests are not the same, but on the contrary, opposed to each other. Mr. Bentham is now an advocate for universal suffrage. N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 303 of the advantages and the disadvantages of change, that we are to reason respecting the duration of the legislative assembly, without entering into any con- siderations drawn from an abstract term. The last example that I have to adduce, is taken from contracts ; or rather from the different political fictions, imagined under the name of contracts. I have already condemned them as fictions. (68) I now condemn them as begging the question. When Locke or Rousseau reasons upon this imagi- nary contract ; when they affirm that the social or political contract includes such or such a clause, could they prove it otherwise than by the general advan- tage supposed to result from it? Let us grant to them, if they will, that this contract, which was never put into shape, is actually in existence. On what does its value depend ? Is it not upon its utili- ty ? Why are its engagements to be kept ? Because good faith in promises, is the very foundation of so- ciety. It is for the advantage of all, that the pro- mises of each individual should be sacred. There would be no safety among men, no commerce, no confidence. We might go back to the woods again with our enquiry, if engagements had no binding vir- tue. It would be the same with political contracts. It is their utility which constitutes their strength ; if they grow hurtful, they have no strength. If the law had undertaken to make the people unhappy, would the engagement be valid? If the people were bound to obey at all events, would they be bound to suffer themselves to be destroyed by a Nero or a Ca- ligula, rather than to violate their promise ? If there should result from the contract, effects universally hurtful, would there be any sufficient reason for main- taining it ? Nobody can deny, therefore, that the validity of the contract is at the bottom dependent (68) The word fict ions here, is what the author himself would denounce as dislogistic. How hard to avoid this fault! IS 304 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. upon the question of Utility, a little wrapped up, a little disguised, and consequently rather susceptible of false interpretation. 10. Imaginary law is not reason. Natural law, natural right ; two sorts of fiction or metaphor, which play so great a part, nevertheless, in the works of legislation, as to deserve a particular notice. The primitive sense of the word law, is the vul- gar sense it is the will of the legislator. The Law of Nature is a figurative expression. Nature is repre- sented as a being ; such and such a disposition is at- tributed to her, which is called, figuratively, law. In this sense, all the general inclinations of men, all those which appear to exist independently of human soci- ety, and which ought to have preceded the establish- ment of political and civil laws, are called laws of na- ture. Such is the true sense of the words. But people do not so understand it. Authors have taken the words as if they had a peculiar sense as if there was a code of natural laws. They appeal to these laws, they cite them ; they oppose them li- terally to the laws of the legislator, and they do not perceive that these natural laws are laws of their own invention ; that they all contradict themselves upon this imaginary code ; that they are obliged to affirm without proof; that there are as many systems as writers ; and that in reasoning in that manner, they are always obliged to begin anew, because upon ima- ginary laws every one may say what he pleases, and disputes are interminable. What there is natural in man, are the sentiments of pain and pleasure inclinations ; but to call these sentiments, and these inclinations laws, would be to introduce a false and dangerous idea ; to put language in opposition with itself; since it is necessary to make laws for the very purpose of controlling these inclina- tions. Instead of regarding them as laws, we are PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 305 obliged to subject them to laws. It is against the strongest natural inclinations, that the most rigorous- ly repressing laws are to be made. If there was a law of nature which directed all men toward their common good, laws would be of no use. It would be to employ a reed to support an oak ; it would be to hold up a torch to the noon-day sun. Blackstone, while speaking of the obligation of pa- rents to provide for their offspring, says, 'It is a principle of the natural law, a duty imposed by na- ture herself, and by their own act in bringing them into the world ; and Montesquieu, adds he, observes with reason, that the natural obligation of the father to provide for his children, is that which has given rise to marriage, which determines who it is that ought to fulfil that obligation." (Lib. I., ch. 1 6. ) (69) Parents are disposed to bring up their children ; pa- rents ought to bring up their children : these are two different propositions. The first does not suppose the second ; the second does not suppose the first. There are undoubtedly very strong reasons for impos- ing upon parents the obligation of providing for their children. Why are they not given by Blackstone and Montesquieu ? Why do they refer to what they call the law of nature 6 ? What is that law of nature which needs the secondary law of another legislator ? If that natural obligation existed, as Montesquieu says, far from being the ground of marriage, it would prove the inutility of it: at least for the end assigned by him : one of the objects of marriage is to supply the insufficiency of natural affection. It is intend- ed to convert into an obligation, that inclination of the parents which would not always be sufficiently strong to overcome the trouble and embarrassment of education. (69) Blackstone is never touched by our author, but with a dissecting knife, which goes to the nerves and marrow of the judge. N 39 306 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. Men are much disposed to provide for themselves : there is no occasion for a law to oblige them to do this. If the disposition of parents to provide for their children was universally and constantly as strong, it would never have come into the thought of lawgivers to make an obligation of it. The exposure of infants, so common once among the Greeks, is yet more so now in China. To over- awe that practice, are we to allege no other reasons than that imaginary law of nature which is clearly inefficient? The word right, like the word law, has two mean- ings ; a proper meaning, and a metaphorical one. Right, properly speaking, is the creature of law, pro- perly speaking : real laws give birth to real rights. The natural right is the creature of natural law ; it is a metaphor, which owes its existence to another metaphor. What there is natural in man, are his means and faculties ; but to call these means, these faculties, natural rights, is again to put language in opposition to itself ; for rights are established to assure the ex- ercise of means and faculties. The right is the guar- antee ; the faculty is the thing guarantied. How are we to understand a language that confounds under a common term, two things so distinct ? Where would be the nomenclature of the arts, if we gave to the trade or the tools, the same name that we give to the work ? Real right is always employed in a legal sense ; na- tural right is often employed in an anti-legal sense. When we say, for example, that the law cannot offend against natural right, we employ the word right in a sense superior to the law, we recognise a right which defeats the law, which reverses and annuls it. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 307 In the anti-legal sense, the word right is the great- est enemy of reason, and the most terrible destroyer of governments. We cannot reason with fanatics armed with natural right, which every one understands just as he likes applies as it may suit him ; of which he can yield up no part, retrench no part ; which is inflexible at the same time that it is unintelligible ; which is con- secrated to his eyes as a dogma, and from which we cannot depart without crime. Instead of examining the laws by their effects ; instead of adjudging them as good or bad, they consider them with relation to this pretended natural right that is to say, they sub- stitute for the reasoning of experience, the chimeras of their imagination. There is no innocent error ; we slide from spe- culation into practice. * We must obey the laws that are agreeable to nature. Others are null, be- cause of their disagreement with nature : and instead of obeying them, we are bound to resist them. From the moment natural rights are attacked, every virtu- ous citizen ou;ht to be ardent in their defence. These self-evident rights need not be proved ; it is enough to declare them. How are we to prove them ? To doubt, implies a deficiency of common-sense, or of common honesty !' But that I may not be charged with preaching se- ditious maxims gratuitously, to these inspired politi- cians, I will cite a positive passage from Blackstone ; and I prefer Blackstone, because, of all writers, he is the one who has betrayed the most profound re- spect for the authority of governments. ( 1 Com., p. 42.) In speaking of the imaginary laws of nature, and of the laws of revelation * We ought not to suffer,' says he, ' that human laws should contradict those 308 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. (of nature) : if a human law ordains a thing forbidden by the natural or divine law, we are bound to trans- gress the human law.' O Is not this enough to arm all fanatics against all governments ? Among the immense variety of ideas upon the natural law, and the divine law, will not each one find some reason for resisting all human law ? Is there a single state, which would be able to main- tain itself a single day, if every one supposed him- self conscientiously required to resist the law ? save where they were conformable to his particular ideas upon the natural and the revealed law. What a hor- rible cut-throat among all the interpreters of the code of nature, and of all religious sects ? * The pursuit of happiness is a natural right.' (70) The pursuit of happiness is certainly a natural inclina- tion ; but can we call it a natural right ? That de- pends upon the mode of pursuit. The assassin pur- sues his happiness by assassination. Has he the right to do so ? If he has not, why declare it ? What tend- ency in that declaration is there, to make men hap- pier or wiser ? Turgot was a great man : but he had adopted the common opinion without examination. Unalienable and; natural rights were the despotism and the dogma- tism which he desired to exercise without having it \ C-J $een. If he saw no reason for doubting a proposition; if he thought it a self-evident truth, he referred it, without going further, to natural right, to eternal jus- (70) Here we have a sly allusion to our celebrated Declaration of Independ- ence ; a paper which our author examined once paragraph by paragragh, with an acuteness and vigour, which were never exceeded. Take one example We declare that certain rights (!) are inalienable, among which (rights .') are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness ! But if they are inalienable, how comes it that our legislators may deprive us of them ? How can they exercise the right of confining us of hindering our pursuit of happiness, of taking away our property, or of putting us to death, unless we give it to them ? And how can we give them a right, which we ourselves have not ? In other words, how are we to alienate what is inalienable ? N. PRINCIPLES OF LEGISLATION. 309 tice. He made use of it then as an article of faith, which it was no longer lawful to examine. Utility having been often misapplied, when under- stood in a restricted sense ; having lent her name to crimes, had appeared contrary to eternal justice. She was degraded ; she had a mercenary reputation ; and courage was necessary to restore her to honour, and to re-establish logic upon its true foundations. Let us make a treaty with the partizans of natural right. If Nature has made such or such a law, those who cite it with so much confidence, those who have modestly taken upon themselves to be her inter- preters, ought to suppose that she had her reasons lor making it. Would it not be more certain, more per- suasive, and shorter, to give us those reasons directly, than to furnish us with the will of the unknown le- gislator, as being authority of itself? It would be proper here, to point out the false paths, through which one is particularly liable to be dragged in deliberative assemblies; (71) personali- ties, imputations of motive ; tediousness ; declama- tion ; but what has been said, will suffice for charac- terizing what is reason, and what is not, under the principle of UTILITY. All these false modes of reasoning may always be reduced to the one or the other of two false princi- ples. This fundamental distinction is of great utility for giving clearness to ideas, and brevity to language. To be able to refer such or such reasoning to one of two false principles, is to tie up the weeds in a bun- dle, that they may be cast into the fire. I shall finish with a general observation. The lan- guage of error is always obscure, feeble, and change- able. A great abundance of words only serves to hide the poverty and falsity of ideas. The more the (71) This our author has done elsewhere, in the BOOK OF FALLACIES ; they are only referred to here. N. 310 DUMONT'S BENTHAM. terms are varied, the more easy it is to lead people astray. The language of truth is uniform and simple: the same ideas, the same terms. All these refer to pleasures and to pains. We avoid all that may hide or intercept that familiar notion. From such or such an act, results such or such an impression of pain or plea- sure. Do not trust to me ; trust to experience ; and above all, to your own. Between two opposite modes of action, would you know to which the preference is due ? Calculate the effects, in good and ill, and decide for that which promises the greatest amount of happiness. THE END