to the
organism just matured. It is a sure adjunct, so long as subject and
object are in good condition. But continuity of pleasure, as well as of
the other exercises, is impossible. Life is itself an exercise much
diversified, and each man follows the diversity that is suitable to his
own inclination--music, study, &c. Each has its accessory and
consummating mode of pleasure; and to say that all men desire pleasure,
is the same as saying that all men desire life. It is no real question
to ask--Do we choose life for the sake of pleasure, or pleasure for the
sake of life? The truth is, that the two are implicated and inseparable
(IV.).

As our acts or exercises differ from each other specifically, so also
the pleasures that are accessory to them differ specifically. Exercises
intellectual differ from exercises perceptive, and under each head
there are varieties differing from each other. The pleasures accessory
and consummating to each, are diversified accordingly. Each pleasure
contributes to invigorate and intensify the particular exercise that it
is attached to; the geometer who studies his science with pleasure
becomes more acute and successful in prosecuting it. On the other hand,
the pleasures attached to one exercise impede the mind in regard to
other exercises; thus men fond of the flute cannot listen to a speaker
with attention, if any one is playing the flute near them. What we
delight in doing, we are more likely to do well; what we feel pain in
doing, we are not likely to do well. And thus each variety of exercise
is alike impeded by the pains attached to itself, and by the pleasures
attached to other varieties.

Among these exercises or acts, some are morally good, others morally
bad; the desires of the good are also praise-worthy, the desires of the
bad are blameable; but if so, much more are the pleasures attached to
the good exercises, good pleasures--and the pleasures attached to the
bad exercises, bad pleasures. For the pleasures attached to an exercise
are more intimately identified with that exercise than the desire of it
can be. The pleasure of the exercise, and the exercise itself, are
indeed so closely identified one with the other, that to many they
appear the same. Sight, hearing, and smell, differ in purity from touch
and taste; and the pleasures attached to each differ in like manner.
The pleasures of intellect differ from those of sense, as these two
exercises differ from one another. Every