appetite would cease to move us, if its
painful and pleasurable accompaniments were done away with. It matters
not that we remit our attention, at times, to the pain or the pleasure;
these are always in the background; and the strength of the appetite is
their strength.

So far as concerns Butler's example of the Appetites, there is no case
for the view that to obtain happiness we must avoid aiming at it
directly. If we do not aim at the pleasure in its own subjective
character, we aim at the thing that immediately brings the pleasure;
which is, for all practical purposes, to aim at the pleasure.

The prescription to look away from the final end, Happiness, in order to
secure that end, may be tested on the example of one of our intermediate
pursuits, as Health. It is not a good thing to be always dwelling on the
state of our health: by doing so, we get into a morbid condition of
self-consciousness, which is in itself pernicious. It does not follow
that we are to live at random, without ever giving a thought to our
health. There is a plain middle course. Guided by our own experience,
and by the experience of those that have gone before us, we arrange our
plan of life so as to preserve health; and our actions consist in
adhering to that plan in the detail. So long as our scheme answers
expectation, we think of nothing but of putting it in force, as occasion
arises; we do not dwell upon our states of good health at all. It is
some interruption that makes us self-conscious; and then it is that we
have to exercise ourselves about a remedial course. This, when found, is
likewise objectively pursued; our only subjectiveness lies in being
aware of gradual recovery; and we are glad to get back to the state of
paying no attention to the workings of our viscera. We do not,
therefore, remit our pursuit; only, it is enough to observe the routine
of outward actions, whose sole motive is to keep us in health.

The pursuit of the still wider end, Happiness, has much in common with
the narrower pursuit. When we have discovered what things promote, and
what things impede our happiness, we transfer our attention to these, as
the most direct mode of compassing the end. If we are satisfied that
working for other people brings us happiness, we work accordingly; this
is no side aim, it is as direct as any aim can be. It may involve
immediate sacrifice, but that does not alter the case; we can get no
considerable happiness from any source wi