self-love and benevolence, and the whole is held together by the supreme authority of conscience (or, as Butler sometimes calls it, the principle of reflection). Without considering which principle or motive in human nature is strongest, either at the moment or generally, conscience is superior and chief, and has authority over all else, for this absolute direction and control is part of the very idea of conscience. Had it strength, as it has right, had it power, as it has manifest authority, it would absolutely govern the world.' To obey conscience,

then, is to act according to nature.' It is in this sense that we can speak of man being a law unto himself.' The very constitution of our nature requires that we .. make it the business of our lives. . . to conform ourselves to (this superior faculty). This is the whole meaning of that ancient precept, Reverence Thyself.' The obligation to obey conscience, then, is that it is the law of our own nature, the guide assigned us by the Author of our nature.'

Butler's insistence on the supreme authority of conscience is developed in opposition to Shaftesbury. The latter recognized the existence of conscience, but not its natural authority. He seems to have thought of it as one principle among others in a man. So that if it is not clear to a man that it is his own interest, in a particular case, to obey his conscience, then he is justified in following his interest, even if it leads him to vice, for self-interest is obviously a natural obligation for everyone. As against this view, Butler maintains that the only alternative to the absolute supremacy of conscience is to teach that conscience, benevolence, and self-will should each take their turn among other motives, such as the different passions and appetites, and each in its turn have some influence. Then, for example, the

murder of a father would be natural at one moment; and filial duty at another time would be no less, and no more, natural, equally to be approved or disapproved. This would reduce life to absurdity. But though a man should doubt of everything else, the absolute authority which is a constituent part of conscience would place him under the most certain obligation to the practice of virtue.

But Butler does not admit that conscience and selfinterest are ever in conflict. Even when, in a particular case, vice and self-love seem to go together, when we consider man, and his condition, and the shortness of his life, realizing how very little can possibly in any case be gained by vice, it is not a great thing to sacrifice so little for conscience' sake, which is the most intimate of all obligations; and which a man cannot transgress without being self-condemned, and, unless he has corrupted his nature, without real self-dislike.' In actual life, and in all but the most exceptional circumstances, there is seldom any divergence between the dictates of conscience and what even on a narrow short view, seems to be self-interest. It is much seldomer that there is inconsistency between duty and what is really our present interest. But if there be sometimes such inconsistency, all shall be set right at the final distribution of things. Evil cannot be supposed finally triumphing over good in a perfect administration of things.'

Butler's doctrine is that these two principles, reflection or conscience and reasonable self-love, are the only things in human nature of such unique superiority that they cannot be contradicted without violating our nature. Self-love, then, is natural, in a sense in which benevolence is not. But, as against Hobbes, Butler teaches that there is a principle of benevolence in man, as real as

self-love, and not to be confused with it, or interpreted as a modification of it. Hobbes says of benevolence, 'There can be no greater argument to a man of his own power than to find himself able not only to accomplish his own desires, but also to assist other men in theirs.' 1 Butler in a note to Sermon i, § 6, states that Hobbes says that Benevolence is the love of power, which is perhaps unjust to Hobbes, but he seems quite right when he says,2 that Hobbes makes fear and pity the same thing, which from the common use of words, and from self-examination, they are not. Benevolence and self-love are different principles, though Butler maintains that we can scarcely promote one without the other. A man's conscience is generally supposed to approve the actions done through benevolence more than those done from self-love. And the arguments by which men try to disprove the existence of unselfishness and benevolence in human nature, would equally disprove the existence of self-love. There are people who seem to have no natural affection for others, but there are others who seem to have no natural affection for themselves. Men as often injure themselves as others, and if few are completely benevolent, as few attain for themselves all the satisfaction and enjoyment they might.

The theory of human nature outlined in the first three sermons is applied and amplified in the remaining twelve. The sermon on the government of the tongue (iv) describes the evil that results from talkativeness, and outlines the cure under three heads: (1) silence; (2) the talking about indifferent things. Butler reminds us that useful subjects of conversation are often as entertaining as others; (3) the giving of characters. of characters. It is as

1 Human Nature, ix, 17.

2 In a note to the Rolls Sermons, v, § 1

important for society to know the characters of bad men as those of good; but a man is not injured so much by undeserved good said of him as by undeserved evil. next two Sermons (v and vi) deal with compassion, and are best considered along with xi and xii, on the love of our neighbour. By the feeling of compassion we substitute the interest of others for our own, and have the same kind of delight in their prosperity, and sorrow in their distress, as come from reflection on our own. When compassion is allowed scope, under the guidance of reason, we act suitably to our nature, and to the circumstances God has placed us in. Just as want of the natural appetite for food implies some bodily disease, so apathy means something amiss with the health of the mind. Our nature is the voice of God within us, and if we are to avoid the extremes of superstition and irreligion, we must obey that voice (Ecclus. xxxii. 23). The natural feeling of compassion is meant by God to restrain resentment, envy, and unreasonable self-love, to stimulate reason and benevolence, and to remind us of the obligation that pain and sorrow and misery put upon us, a debt to ourselves as well as to the distressed.

The two sermons (xi, xii), Upon the love of our neighbour, discuss the nature of self-love and disinterestedness. It was the fashion of Butler's day, he says,1 to profess a greater regard for self-interest than appears to have been done formerly. Self-love is the general desire that each man has for his own happiness and satisfaction ; what is or is not our interest or good is determined by nature, self-love only moves us to secure it. Happiness results from the enjoyment of what is adapted to all our faculties; this consideration, and general appearances, suggest that selfishness, immoderate self-love, does not

1 xi, § 1.

lead to the greatest happiness. That a certain action makes for the good of others, does not prevent it meaning our own happiness also.

It is sometimes argued that to love one's neighbour as one's self would mean the neglect of one's own interest, but there is really no reason to fear this. All that we owe to others is a disposition and endeavour to do good to those with whom we have to do, in the degree and manner required by our relation to them. This is benevolence, and the common virtues and vices of mankind can be traced to benevolence or the lack of it.

But, in spite of common language, the distinction between good or bad is not identical with that between disinterested and interested. Due self-love is just and morally good, and disinterested cruelty is the utmost possible depravity. Neither is it true that self-love is in general too strong in men. It is weaker, often, than curiosity or hatred, or any passing appetite or passion. Its influence is due to its being constant. Men have not enough regard to their own good or interest in the present world; and they have too little regard to the good of others.1 Although self-love is by no means a completely religious or moral rule of life, to act on it consistently would be less mischievous than to be ruled by the extravagances of mere whim or appetite.

The sermons on the character of Balaam (vii) and upon self-deceit (x) both relate to the self-partiality, selfflattery, and self-deceit from which comes a great part of the wickedness of the world. Balaam owns and feels the divine authority, and has, indeed, the most just and true notions of God and religion. He has the better character and more desirable state in his thoughts and in his wishes, full before him. And he voluntarily chooses the worse.

1 Preface to Rolls Sermons, § 40