The most specious objection to Utility is the supposed necessity of going through a calculation of the consequences of every act that we have to perform, an operation often beyond our power, and likely to be abused to forward our private wishes. To this, the author replies first, that supposing utility our only index, we must make the best of it. Of course, if we were endowed with a moral sense, a special organ for ascertaining our duties, the attempt to displace that invincible consciousness, and to thrust the principle of utility into the vacant seat, would be impossible and absurd.

According to the theory of Utility, our conduct would conform to rules inferred from the tendencies of actions, but would not be determined by a direct resort to the principle of general utility. Utility would be the ultimate, not the immediate test. To preface each act or forbearance by a conjecture and comparison of consequences were both superfluous and mischievous:—superfluous, inasmuch as the result is already embodied in a known rule; and mischievous, inasmuch as the process, if performed on the spur of the occasion, would probably be faulty.

With the rules are associated sentiments, the result of the Divine, or other, command to obey the rules. It is a gross and flagrant error to talk of substituting calculation for sentiment; this is to oppose the rudder to the sail. Sentiment without calculation were capricious; calculation without sentiment is inert.

There are cases where the specific consequences of an action are so momentous as to overbear the rule; for example, resistance to a bad government, which the author calls an anomalous question, to be tried not by the rule, but by a direct resort to the ultimate or presiding-principle, and by a separate calculation of good and evil. Such was the political emergency of the Commonwealth, and the American revolution. It would have been well, the author thinks, if utility had been the sole guide in both cases.

There is a second objection to Utility, more perplexing to deal with. How can we know fully and correctly all the consequences of actions? The answer is that Ethics, as a science of observation and induction, has been formed, through a long succession of ages, by many and separate contributions from many and separate discoverers. Like all other sciences, it is progressive, although unfortunately, subject to special drawbacks. The men that have enquired, or affected to enquire, into Ethics, have rarely been impartial; they have laboured under prejudices or sinister interests; and have been the advocates of foregone conclusions. There is not on this subject a concurrence or agreement of numerous and impartial enquirers. Indeed, many of the legal and moral rules of the most civilized communities arose in the infancy of the human mind, partly from caprices of the fancy (nearly omnipotent with barbarians), and partly from an imperfect apprehension of general utility, the result of a narrow experience. Thus the diffusion and the advancement of ethical truth encounter great and peculiar obstacles, only to be removed by a better general education extended to the mass of the people. It is desirable that the community should be indoctrinated with sound views of property, and with the dependence of wealth, upon the true principle of population, discovered by Malthus, all which they are competent to understand.

The author refers to Paley's Moral Philosophy as an example of the perverting tendency of narrow and domineering interests in the domain of ethics. With many commendable points, there is, in that work, much ignoble truckling to the dominant and influential few, and a deal of shabby sophistry in defending abuses that the few were interested in upholding.

As a farther answer to the second objection, he remarks, that it applies to every theory of ethics that supposes our duties to be set by the Deity. Christianity itself is defective, considered as a system of rules for tho guidance of human conduct.

He then turns to the alternative of a Moral Sense. This involves two assumptions.

First, Certain sentiments, or feelings of approbation or disapprobation, accompany our conceptions of certain human actions. These feelings are neither the result of our reflection on the tendencies of actions, nor the result of education; the sentiments would follow the conception, although we had neither adverted to the good or evil tendency of the actions, nor become aware of the opinions of others regarding them. This theory denies that the sentiments known to exist can be produced by education. We approve and disapprove of actions we know not why.

The author adapts Paley's supposition of the savage, in order to express strongly what the moral sense implies. But we will confine ourselves to his reasonings. Is there, he asks, any evidence of our being gifted with such feelings? The very putting of such a question would seem a sufficient proof that we are not so endowed. There ought to be no more doubt about them, than about hunger or thirst.