n harmony with each
other, and in proportion to their worth. And to this proportioned and
harmonious realization, pleasure, pure and simple, is no guide at all.
Hence, as Aristotle remarks, "In all cases we must be specially on our
guard against pleasant things and against pleasure: for we can scarce
judge her impartially." "Again, as the exercises of our faculties differ
in goodness and badness, and some are to be desired and some to be
shunned, so do the several pleasures differ; for each exercise has its
proper pleasure. The pleasure which is proper to a good activity, then,
is good, and that which is proper to one that is not good is bad." "As
the exercises of the faculties vary, so do their respective pleasures."

To the same effect John Stuart Mill says that the pleasures which result
from the exercise of the higher faculties are to be preferred. "It is
better to be a human being dissatisfied, than a pig satisfied; better to
be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied." Whether it is possible
to stretch, and qualify, and attenuate the conception of pleasure so as
to make it cover the ideal of human life, without having it, like a
soap-bubble, burst in the process, is a question foreign to the
practical purpose of this book. That pleasure, as ordinarily understood
by plain people, is a treacherous, dangerous, and ruinous guide to
conduct, moralists of every school declare. Pleasure is the most subtle
and universal form of temptation. Pleasure is the accompaniment of all
exercise of power. When it comes rightly it is to be accepted with
thankfulness. We must remember however that the quality of the act
determines the worth of the pleasure; and that the amount of pleasure
does not determine the quality of the act. A pleasant act may be right,
and it may be wrong. Whether we ought to do it or not must in every case
be decided on higher grounds.

To the boy who says, "I should like to be something that would make me a
great man, and very happy besides--something that would not hinder me
from having a great deal of pleasure"--George Eliot represents "Romola"
as replying, "That is not easy, my Lillo. It is only a poor sort of
happiness that could ever come by caring very much about our own narrow
pleasures. We can only have the highest happiness, such as goes along
with being a great man, by having wide thoughts, and much feeling for
the rest of the world as well as for ourselves; and this sort of
happiness often bri