52. Motives of human action may be arranged under the two classes of Pains commonly so called, or Simple Pains, and Pains of Desire. Simple pains have no reference to any pleasure either past or to come; and men might still be capable of them though no such thing as pleasure existed. Pains of desire, on the other hand, originate in some pleasure past or anticipated; and men are only capable of those pains because they are capable or have been capable of the corresponding pleasures.

53. Of the various simple pains, desires, and pleasures of which men are capable, it is possible for several simple pains, or several desires, or several pleasures, or for several simple pains, several desires and several pleasures to be felt together at the same moment. Any pleasure coexisting with any pain, whether a simple pain or a pain of desire, tends, in proportion to the keenness of the pleasure, to diminish the force of that pain as a motive of action; and pains, coexisting together, impel to action sometimes in the same, and sometimes in contrary directions; for the same action that may tend to relieve one pain may tend to aggravate or to produce another.

54. The contemplation of a future pain, as probable or certain, produces a present pain, which may be called a pain of Anticipation. These pains are

action of investigating and enumerating the kinds of pains and pleasures. He has given, in his Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation, a list of simple pleasures and simple pains. Many, however, which he has classed as such are very complex. So far as Legislation is concerned, that is, for the purpose to which he applied it, that list might answer sufficiently well; but in a general point of view it is very defective.

what are commonly called Fears. The contemplation of a future pleasure as probable, or as within our power, produces a present pleasure, which may be called a pleasure of Anticipation. These pleasures are commonly called Hopes. They are never quite unmixed, being uniformly attended, in a greater or less degree, by pains of desire, pains of doubt, and pains of fear.*

Desire hardly exists at all, and never exists long, or with any degree of force, without hope. The pleasure of that attendant hope has frequently been mistaken for a pleasure of desire; whereas desire in itself, as has been already stated, is always a pure pain. The coexistent pleasure always depends upon the coexistent hope, and the degree of it. When hope ceases, desire shows what it is, in its own nature and separate from hope, under the black form of Despair.

The pains of fear and the pains of desire attendant upon hope, are powerful motives of action; and, indeed, are the sole impulses to those combined and prolonged systems of action which we observe among men, and especially civilized and contemplative men.

* "Her younger sister, that Speranza hight,
Was clad in blue that her beseemed well;
Not all so cheerful seemed she of sight
As was her sister; whether dread did dwell,
Or anguish in her heart, were hard to tell:
Upon her arm a silver anchor lay,
Whereon she leaned ever as befell,

And ever up to heaven, as she did pray,

Her steadfast eyes were bent, nor swerved no other way."

Faery Queen, Book I. Canto 10.

Fidelia, or Faith.

We form an opinion that the possession of a certain thing, or the accomplishment of a certain object, will free us from certain simple pains which we now feel, or from certain pains of desire excited in us by considering that thing or that object as within our reach, and likely to be productive to us of certain pleasures; and these simple pains, or pains of desire, thus become motives with us to seek that thing, or to pursue that object; even though in the pursuit we are obliged to encounter many other pains. Whenever those other pains come to be more potent than the pains of desire by which we are impelled, they will divert us, either permanently or temporarily, from our pursuit; or a change in our opinion as to the power of the object to affect us; or a cessation of those simple pains, or pains of desire, by which we were originally impelled, will suddenly put a stop to such systems of action, even after they have been followed up for almost a whole lifetime. In these long pursuits, the pleasures of Hope cheer our toils, and often form our only compensation.

55. When one simple pain, or one pain of desire, reaches so high a degree that all other contemporary pains and desires become as nothing in comparison, it is very easy to foresee the direction of human action. But, in general, so many simple pains, and so many pains of desire, are operating together, often in opposite directions, and their power is occasionally so modified by the coexistence of pleasures, as to render the determination beforehand of human action, in particular cases, even if we could obtain an accurate enumeration of all the motives which op

erate in any given case, an exceedingly complicated and nice calculation. This difficulty is aggravated by differences in sensibility, that is to say, the different degrees in which different men are capable of pleasures and pains; there being, with respect to the capacity for some pains and some pleasures, a very great variation in different individuals.

There are, however, several pains, the presence or the apprehension of which, is so universal, and so constant, or the return of which is so regular, and which are capable of rising to so high a degree, that they do positively determine the general direction of human conduct. Such are the pains of hunger and thirst, of heat and cold, of wounds and diseases. It is these pains that make food and drink, clothing and shelter, or those means whereby food, clothing, and shelter can be obtained, such universal and inevitable objects of human pursuit.

56. There are several other sets of Pains and Pleasures which keep human life for ever revolving, as it were, in a circle; the one set acting, so to speak, as a centrifugal, the other as a centripetal force, namely, the Pains and Pleasures of Activity, muscular and mental.

Men find a certain pleasure in the mere exertion of all their faculties, whether muscular or mental, independently of any extraneous pleasure which that exertion may procure for them. These are the pleasures of activity;* and the desire of these pleasures,

*Under the general head of the pleasures and pains of activity, are to be included not only the pleasures and pains of muscular activity, but those also of mental activity, of the activity of the Perceptive and Sensitive faculties.

independently of any others, constantly leads men to action. But if the exertion of any faculty be protracted beyond a certain period, which period is very different in different individuals, what before was a pleasure changes to a pain. These pains of activity, commonly called pains of fatigue, presently become. overpowering, and make rest absolutely necessary; which, under these circumstances, as it affords relief from pain, assumes the character of a pleasure. It is, however, a mere negative pleasure, that is, a relief from pain; never a positive pleasure, a pleasure in itself. It ought also to be observed, that what is commonly called rest, is, in general, only a change in the method of action. There is no perfect rest, or cessation of all activity, except in the soundest sleep. What, under the names of Weariness or Ennui, the first word applying more to the muscles, the second to the mind, is sometimes spoken of as though it were a pain of inactivity, is in fact a pain of activity, a pain resulting from the continued perseverance in one course of action, which has thus become wearisome; combined often with pains of desire, resulting from the idea of certain other courses of action, which we conceive would be more agreeable.

57. It is by the capacity of a longer continuous exertion of all their faculties, and a pleasure in it, that men are principally distinguished from children; and it is by a similar capacity of a longer continuous exertion of their mental faculties that educated and civilized men are distinguished from the uneducated and the savage.