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Human Nature

OTHER SEEMONS

BY

JOSEPH BUTLER,

BISHOP OF DURHAM.

CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited:

LONDON, PARTS, NEW YORK & MELBOURNE.
1887.

103

AUG 2 5 1972

^tS/TYOF^

^

INTBODUCTION.

Joseph Butler was born in 1692, youngest of eight
children of a linendraper at Wantage, in Berkshire.
His father was a Presbyterian, and after education at
the Wantage Free Grammar School Joseph Butler was
sent to be educated for the Presbyterian ministry in a
training academy at Gloucester, which was afterwards
removed to Tewkesbury. There he had a friend and
comrade, Seeker, who afterwards became Archbishop
of Canterbury. Butler and Seeker inquired actively,
and there was foreshadowing of his future in the fact
that in 1713, at the age of twenty-one, Butler was
engaged in anonymous discussion with Samuel Clarke
upon his book on the d priori demonstration of the
Divine Existence and Attributes.

When the time drew near for call to the ministry,
Butler, like his friend Seeker, had reasoned himself
into accordance with the teaching of the Church of
England. Butler's father did not oppose his strong
desire to enter the Church, and he was entered in 1714
at Oriel College, Oxford. At college a strong friend-
ship was established between Butler and a fellow-
student, Edward Talbot, whose father was a Bishop,
formerly of Oxford and Salisbury, then of Durham.

6 INTRODUCTION.

Through Talbot's influence Butler obtained in 1718
the office of Preacher in the Rolls Chapel, which he
held for the next eight years. In 1722 Talbot died,
and on his death-bed urged his father on behalf of
his friend Butler. The Bishop accordingly presented
Joseph Butler to the living of Houghton-le-Spring.
But it was found that costs of dilapidations were be-
yond his means at Houghton, and Butler had a dan-
gerous regard for building works. He was preferred
two years afterwards to the living of Stanhope, which
then became vacant, and which yielded a substantial
income. Butler sought nothing for himself, his sim-
plicity of character, real worth, and rare intellectual
power, secured him friends, and the love of two of
them— Talbot first, and afterwards Seeker, who made
his own way in the Church, and became strong enough
to put his friend as well as himself in the way of
worldly advancement, secured for Butler all the
patronage he had, until the Queen also became his
active friend.

Joseph Butler was seven years at Stanhope, quietly
devoted to his parish duties, preaching, studying, and
writing his " Analogy of Religion, Natural and Re-
vealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature."
In 1727, while still at Stanhope, he was appointed to
a stall in Durham Cathedral. Seeker, having become
chaplain to the Queen, encouraged her in admiration
of Butler's sermons. He told her that the author was
not dead, but buried, and secured her active interest in
his behalf.- From Talbot, who had become Lord

INTRODUCTION. 7

Chancellor, Seeker had no difficulty in obtaining for
Butler a chaplaincy which exempted him from the
necessity of residence at Stanhope. Butler, in
accepting it, stipulated for permission to live and
work in his parish for six months in every year. Next
he was made chaplain to the King, and Rector of
St. James's, upon which he gave up Stanhope. In
1736 Queen Caroline appointed him her Clerk of the
Closet, an office which gave Butler the duty of attend-
ance upon her for two hours every evening. In that
year he published his ,; Analogy," of which the pur-
pose was to meet, on its own ground, the scepticism of
his day. The Queen died in 1737, and, in accordance
with the strong desire expressed in her last days, in
1738 Butler was made a Bishop. But his Bishopric
was Bristol, worth only £300 or £400 a year. The
King added the Deanery of St. Paul's, when that
became vacant in 1740, and in 1750, towards the close
of his life, Joseph Butler was translated to the
Bishopric of Durham. He died in 1752.

No man could be less self-seeking. He owed his
rise in the Church wholly to the intellectual power
and substantial worth of character that inspired strong
friendship. Seeing how little he sought worldly
advancement for himself, while others were pressing
and scrambling, Butler's friends used their oppor-
tunities of winning for him the advancement he
deserved. He was happiest in doing his work, of
which a chief part was in his study, where he employed
his philosophic mind in strengthening the foundations

8 INTRODUCTION.

of religious faith. Faith in God was attacked by-
men who claimed especially to be philosophers, and
they were best met by the man who had, beyond all
other divines of his day — some might not bo afraid to
add, of any day — the philosophic mind.

H. M.

Human Natuke,

AND OTHEE SERMONS.

SEEMON I.

UPON HUMAN NATURE.

Romans xii. 4, 5.

For as we have many members in one body, and all members have not the
same office : so we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every one
members one of another.

The Epistles in the New Testament have all of them
a particular reference to the condition and usages of
the Christian world at the time they were written.
Therefore as they cannot be thoroughly understood
unless that condition and those usages are known and
attended to, so, further, though they be known, yet if
they be discontinued or changed, exhortations, pre-
cepts, and illustrations of things, which refer to such
circumstances now ceased or altered, cannot at this
time be urged in that manner and with that force
which they were to the primitive Christians. Thus
the text now before us, in its first intent and design,

10 butler's sermons.

relates to the decent management of those extraordinary
gifts which were then in the Church * but which are
now totally ceased. And even as to the allusion that
" we are one body in Christ," though what the apostle
here intends is equally true of Christians in all circum-
stances, and the consideration of it is plainly still an
additional motive, over and above moral considerations,
to the discharge of the several duties and offices of a
Christian, yet it is manifest this allusion must have
appeared with much greater force to those who, by the
many difficulties they went through for the sake of
their religion, were led to keep always in view the
relation they stood in to their Saviour, who had under-
gone the same : to those, who, from the idolatries of
all around them, and their ill-treatment, were taught
to consider themselves as not of the world in which
they lived, but as a distinct society of themselves ; with
laws and ends, and principles of life and action, quite
contrary to those which the world professed themselves
at that time influenced by. Hence the relation of a
Christian was. by them considered as nearer than that
of affinity and blood; and they almost literally esteemed
themselves as members one of another.

It cannot, indeed, possibly be denied, that our being

God's creatures, and virtue being the natural law we

are born under, and the whole constitution of man being

plainly adapted to it, are prior obligations to piety and

* 1 Cor. xii

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 11

virtue than the consideration that God sent his Son
into the world to save it, and the motives which arise
from the peculiar relation of Christians as members
one of another under Christ our head.- However,
though all this be allowed, as it expressly is by the in-
spired writers, yet it is manifest that Christians at the
time of the Revelation, and immediately after, could
not but insist mostly upon considerations of this latter
kind.

These observations show the original particular
reference io the text, and the peculiar force with which
the thing intended by the allusion in it must have been
felt by the primitive Christian world. They likewise
afford a reason for treating it at this time in a more
general way.

The relation which the several parts or members of
the natural body have to each other and to the whole
body is here compared to the relation which each par-
ticular person in society has to other particular persons
and to the whole society ; and the latter is intended to
be illustrated by the former. And if there be a like-
ness between these two relations, the consequence is
obvious : that the latter shows us we were intended to
do good to others, as the former shows us that the
several members of the natural body were intended to
be instruments of good to each other and to the whole
body. But as there • is scarce any ground for a com-
parison between society and the mere material boay,

12 butler's sermons.

this without the mind being a dead unactive thing,
much less can the comparison be carried to any length.
And since the apostle speaks of the several members as
having distinct offices, which implies the mind, it can-
not be thought an allowable liberty, instead of the
body and its members, to substitute the whole nature
of man, and all the variety of internal 'principles which
belong to it. And then the comparison will be between
the nature of man as respecting self, and tending to
private good, his own preservation and happiness ; and
the nature of man as having respect to society, and
tending to promote public good, the happiness of that
society. These ends do indeed perfectly coincide ; and
to aim at public and private good are so far from being
inconsistent that they mutually promote each other :
yet in the following discourse they must be considered
as entirely distinct ; otherwise the nature of man as
tending to one, or as tending to the other, cannot be
compared. There can no comparison be made, without
considering the things compared as distinct and dif-
ferent.

From this review and comparison of the nature of
man as respecting self and as respecting society, it
will plainly appear that there are as real and the same
hind of indications in human nature, that we were
made for society and to do good to our fellow -creatures,
as that we were intended to take care of our own life
and health and private good : and that the same

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 13

objections lie against one of these assertions as against
the other. For,

First, there is a natural principle of benevolence * in

* Suppose a man of learning to be writing a grave book upon human
nature, and to show in several parts of it that he had an insight into
the subject he was considering, amongst other things, the following
one would require to be accounted for— the appearance of benevolence
or good-will in men towards each other in the instances of natural
relation, and in others.1 Cautious of being deceived with outward
show, he retires within himself to see exactly what that is in the mind
of man from whence this appearance proceeds ; and, upon deep reflec-
tion, asserts the principle in the mind to be only the love of power,
and delight in the exercise of it. Would not everybody think here
was a mistake of one word for another— that the philosopher was con-
templating and accounting for some other human actions, some other
behaviour of man to man ? And could any one be thoroughly satisfied
that what is commonly called benevolence or good-will was really the
affection meant, but only by being made to understand that this
learned person had a general hypothesis, to which the appearance of
good-will could no otherwise be reconciled? That what has this
appearance is often nothing but ambition ; that delight in superiority
often (suppose always) mixes itself with benevolence, only makes it
more specious to call it ambition than hunger, of the two : but in
reality that passion does no more account for the whole appearances of
good-will than this appetite does. Is there not often the appearance
of one man's wishing that good to another, which he knows himself
unable to procure him ; and rejoicing in it, though bestowed by a third
person? And can love of power any way possibly come in to account
for this desire or delight ? Is there not often the appearance of men's
distinguishing between two or more persons, preferring one before
another, to do good to, in cases where love of power cannot in the least
account for the distinction and preference ? For this principle can no
otherwise distinguish between objects than as it is a greater instance
and exertion of power to do good to one rather than to another.
Again, suppose good-will in the mind of man to be nothing but delight
in the exercise of power : men might indeed be restrained by distant
and accidental consideration ; but these restraints being removed, they
would have a disposition to, and delight in, mischief as an exercise and
proof of power : and this disposition and delight would arise from, or
1 Hobbes, " Of Human Nature," c. ix. § 7.

14 butler's sermons.

man, which is in some degree to society what self-love
is to the individual. And if there be in mankind any
disposition to friendship ; if there be any such thing as

be the same principle in the mind, as a disposition to and delight in
charity. Thus cruelty, as distinct from envy and resentment, would
be exactly the same in the mind of man as good-will : that one tends to
the happiness, the other to the misery, of o^r fellow-creatures, is, it
seems, merely an accidental circumstance, which the mind has not the
least regard to. These are the absurdities which even men of capacity
run into when they have occasion to belie their nature, and will per-
versely disclaim that image of God which was originally stamped upon
it, the traces of which, however faint, are plainly discernible upon the
mind of man.

If any person can in earnest doubt whether there be such a thing as
good-will in one man towards another (for the question is not con-
cerning either the degree or extensiveness of it, but concerning the
affection itself), let it be observed that whether man be thus, or other-
wise constituted, what is the inward frame in this particular is a mere
question of fact or natural history, not provable immediately by
reason. It is therefore to be judged of [and determined in the same
way other facts or matters of natural history are — by appealing to the
external senses, or inward perceptions, respectively, as the matter
under consideration is cognisable by one or the other : by arguing from
acknowledged facts and actions; for a great number of actions in the
same kind, in different circumstances, and respecting different objects,
will prove to a certainty what principles they do not, and to the
greatest probability what principles they do, proceed from : and, lastly,
by the testimony of mankind. Now, that there is some degree of bene-
volence amongst men may be as strongly and plainly proved in all
these ways, as it could possibly be proved, supposing there was this
affection in our nature. And should any one think fit to assert that
resentment in the mind of man was absolutely nothing but reasonable
concern for our own safety, the falsity of this, and what is the real
nature of that passion, could be shown in no other ways than those
in which it may be shown that there is such a thing in some degree as
real good-will in man towards man. It is sufficient that the seeds of
it be implanted in our nature by God. There is, it is owned, much
left for us to do upon our own heart and temper ; to cultivate, to im-
prove, to call it forth, to exercise it in a steady, uniform manner.
This is our work': this is virtue and religion.

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 15

compassion— for compassion is momentary love — if
there be any sucli thing as the paternal or filial affec-
tions ; if there be any affection in human nature, the
object and end of which is the good of another, this is
itself benevolence, or the love of another. Be it ever
so short, be it in ever so low a degree, or ever so un-
happily confined, it proves the assertion, and points
out what we were designed for, as really as though it
were in a higher degree and more extensive. I must,
however, remind you that though benevolence and self-
love are different, though the former tends most
directly to public good, and the latter to private, yet
they are so perfectly coincident that the greatest satis-
factions to ourselves depend upon our having bene--
volence in a due degree ; and that self-love is one chief
security of our right behaviour towards society. It
may be added that their mutual coinciding, so that we
can scarce promote one without the other, is equally a
proof that we were made for both.

Secondly, this will further appear, from observing
that the several passions and affections, which are
distinct # both from benevolence and self-love, do in

* Everybody makes a distinction between self-love and the several
particular passions, appetites, and affections ; and yet they are often
confounded again. That they are totally different, will be seen by
any one who will distinguish between the passions and appetites
themselves, and endeavouring after the means of their gratification.
Consider the appetite of hunger, and the desire of esteem : these
being the occasion both of pleasure and pain, the coolest self-love,
as well as the appetites and passions themselves, may put us upon

16

BUTLER S SERMONS.

general contribute and lead us to public good as really
as to private. It might be thought too minute and
particular, and would carry us too great a length, to
distinguish between and compare together the several
passions or appetites distinct from benevolence, whose
primary use and intention is the security and good of
society, and the passions distinct from self-love, whose
primary intention and design is the security and
good of the individual.* It is enough to the present

making use of the proper methods of obtaining that pleasure, and
avoiding that pain; but the feelings themselves, the pain of .hunger
and shame, and the delight from esteem, are no more self-love than
they are anything in the world. Though a man hated himself, he
would as much feel the pain of hunger as he would that of the gout ;
and it is plainly supposable there may be creatures with self-love in
them to the highest degree, who may be quite insensible and indif-
ferent (as men in some cases are) to the contempt and esteem of
those upon whom their happiness does not in some further respects
depend. And as self-love and the several particular passions and
appetites are in themselves totally different, so that some actions
proceed from one and some from the other will be manifest to any
who will observe the two following very supposable cases. One man
rushes upon certain ruin for the gratification of a present desire :
nobody will call the principle of this action self-love. Suppose
another man to go through some laborious work upon promise of a
great reward, without any distinct knowledge what the reward will
be : this course of action cannot be ascribed to any particular pas-
sion. The former of these actions is plainly to be imputed to some
particidar passion or affection ; the latter as plainly to the general
affection or principle of self-love. That there are some particular
pursuits or actions concerning which we cannot determine how far
they are owing to one, and how far to the other, proceeds from this,
that the two principles are frequently mixed together, and run up
into each other. This distinction is further explained in the Eleventh
Serniuu.

• If any desire to see this distinction and comparison made in a
particular instance, the appetite and passion now mentioned may

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 17

argument that desire of esteem from others, contempt
and esteem of them, love of society as distinct from
affection to the good of it, indignation against success-
ful vice— that these are public affections or passions,
have an immediate respect to others, naturally lead
us to regulate our behaviour in such a manner as will
be of service to our fellow-creatures. If any or all
of these may be considered likewise as private affec-
tions, as tending to private good, this does not hinder
them from being public affections too, or destroy the
good influence of them upon society, and their ten-
dency to public good. It may be added that as persons
without any conviction from reason of the desirable-
ness of life would yet of course preserve it merely
from the appetite of hunger, so, by acting merely
from regard (suppose) to reputation, without any
consideration of the good of others, men often con-
tribute to public good. In both these instances they
are plainly instruments in the hands of another, in the
hands of Providence, to carry on ends— the preservation

serve for one. Hunger is to be considered as a private appetite,
because the end for which it was given us is the preservation of the
individual. Desire of esteem is a public passion ; because the end
for which it was given us is to regulate our behaviour towards society.
The respect which this has to private good is as remote as the respect
that has to public good ; and the appetite is no more self-love than
the passion is benevolence. The object and end of the former is
merely food ; the object and end of the latter is merely esteem ; but
the latter can no more be gratified without contributing to the good
of society, than the former can be gratified without contributing to
the preservation of the individual.

18 butler's sermons.

of the individual and good of society — which they
themselves have not in their view or intention.
The sum is, men have various appetites, passions,
and particular affections, quite distinct both from
self-love and from benevolence : all of these hare
a tendency to promote both public and private good,
and may be considered as respecting others and our-
selves equally and in common ; but some of them
seem most immediately to respect others, or tend to
public good; others of them most immediately
to respect self, or tend to private good: as the
former are not benevolence, so the latter are not self-
love : neither sort are instances of our love either to
ourselves or others, but only instances of our Maker's
care and love both of the individual and the species,
and proofs that He intended we should be instruments
of good to each other, as well as that we should be
so to ourselves.

Thirdly, there is a principle of reflection in men,
by which they distinguish between, approve and
disapprove their own actions. We are plainly con-
stituted such sort of creatures as to reflect upon our
""own nature. The mind can take a "view^of what
passes within itself, its propensions, aversions, pas-
sions, affections as respecting such objects, and in
such degrees ; and of the several actions consequent
thereupon. In this survey it approves of one, dis-
approves of another, and towards a third is affected

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 19

in neither of these ways, but is quite indifferent.

I This principle in man, by which lie approves or dis-
approves his heart, temper, and actions, is conscience ;
for this is the strict sense of the word, though some-
times it is used so as to take in more. And that this
faculty tends to restrain men from doing mischief to
/ each other, and leads them to do good, is too manifest
( to need being insisted upon. Thus a parent has the
affection of love to his children : this leads him to
take care of, to educate, to make due provision for
them — the natural affection leads to this : but the

(reflection that it is his proper business, what belongs
to him, that it is right and commendable so to do —
this, added to the affection, becomes a much more
settled principle, and carries him on through more
labour and difficulties for the sake of his children
than he would undergo from that affection alone,
if he thought it, and the cause of action it led
to, either indifferent or criminal. This indeed is
impossible, to do that which is good and not to
+ approve of it ; for which reason they are frequently
not considered as distinct, though they really are :
for men often approve of the actions of others which
\they will not imitate, and likewise do that which
they approve not. It cannot possibly be denied
. that there is this principle of reflection or conscience
in human nature. Suppose a man to relieve an inno-
cent person in great distress ; suppose the same man

20 butler's sermons.

afterwards, in the fury of anger, to do the greatest
mischief to a person who had given no just cause of
offence. To aggravate the injury, add the circum-
stances of former friendship and obligation from the
injured person ; let the man who is supposed to have
done these two different actions coolly reflect upon
them afterwards, without regard to their consequences
to himself : to assert that any common man would be
affected in the same way towards these different
actions, that he would make no distinction between
them, but approve or disapprove them equally, is
too glaring a falsity to need being confuted. There is
therefore this principle of reflection or conscience in
mankind. It is needless to compare the respect it
has to private good with the respect it has to public ;
since it plainly tends as much to the latter as to the
former, and is commonly thought to tend chiefly to
the latter. This faculty is now mentioned merely as
another part in the inward frame of man, pointing
out to us in some degree what we are intended for,
and as what will naturally and of course have some
influence. The particular place assigned to it by
nature, what authority it has, and how great influence
it ought to have, shall be hereafter considered.

From this comparison of benevolence and self-love,
of our public and private affections, of the courses of
life they lead to, and of the principle of reflection or
conscience as respecting each of them, it is as manifest

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 21

that we were made for society, and to promote the
happiness of it, as that we were intended to take care
of our own life and health and private good.

And from this whole review must be given a dif-
ferent draught of human nature from what we are often
presented with. Mankind are by nature so closely
united, there is such a correspondence between the
inward sensations of one man and those of another,
that disgrace is as much avoided as bodily pain, and
to be the object of esteem and love as much desired,
as any external goods; and in many particular cases
persons are carried on to do good to others, as the end
their affection tends to and rests in; and manifest
that they find real satisfaction and enjoyment in this
course of behaviour. There is such a natural principle
of attraction in man towards man that having trod
the same tract of land, having breathed in the same
climate, barely having been born in the same artificial
district or division, becomes the occasion of contract-
ing acquaintances and familiarities many years after ;
for anything may serve the purpose. Thus relations
merely nominal are sought and invented, not by
governors, but by the lowest of the people, which
are found sufficient to hold mankind together in little
fraternities and copartnerships : weak ties indeed, and
what may afford fund enough for ridicule, if they are
absurdly considered as the real principles of that
union : but they are in truth merely the occasions, as

22 butler's sermons.

anything may be of anything, upon which our nature
carries us on according to its own previous bent and
bias; which occasions therefore would be nothing at
all were there not this prior disposition and bias of
nature. Men are so much one body that in a peculiar
manner they feel for each other shame, sudden danger,
resentment, honour, prosperity, distress; one or another,
or all of these, from the social nature in general, from
benevolence, upon the occasion of natural relation,
acquaintance, protection, dependence; each of these
being distinct cements of society. And therefore to
have no restraint from, no regard to, others in our be-
haviour, is the speculative absurdity of considering
ourselves as single and independent, as having nothing
in our nature which has respect to our fellow-creatures,
reduced to action and practice. And this is the same
absurdity as to suppose a hand, or any part, to have
no natural respect to any other, or to the whole
body.

But, allowing all this, it may be asked, " Has not
man dispositions and principles within which lead
him to do evil to others, as well as to do good?
Whence come the many miseries else which men are
the authors and instruments of to each other ? " These
questions, so far as they relate to the foregoing dis-
course, may be answered by asking, Has not man
also dispositions and principles within which lead him
to do evil to himself, as well as good ? Whence come

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 23

the many miseries else — sickness, pain, and death —
which men are instruments and authors of to them-
selves ?

It may be thought more easy to answer one of these
questions than the other, bat the answer to both is
really the same : that mankind have ungoverned pas- «
sions which they will gratify at any rate, as well to
the injury of others as in contradiction to known
private interest : but that as there is no such thing as
self -hatred, so neither is there any such thing as ill-
will in one man towards another, emulation and re-
sentment being away ; whereas there is plainly bene-
volence or good- will : there is no such thing as love of
injustice, oppression, treachery, ingratitude, but only
eager desires after such and such external goods ;
which, according to a very ancient observation, the
most abandoned would choose to obtain by innocent
means, if they were as easy and as effectual to their
end : that even emulation and resentment, by any one
who will consider what these passions really are in
nature * will be found nothing to the purpose of this

* Emulation is merely the desire and hope of equality with or
superiority over others with whom we compare ourselves. There
does not appear to be any other grief in the natural passion, but only
that want which is implied in desire. However, this may be so strong
as to be the occasion of great grief. To desire the attainment of this
equality or superiority by the particular means of others being brought
down to our own level, or below it, is, I think, the distinct notion of
envy. From whence it is easy to see that the real end, which the
natural passion emulation, and which the unlawful one envy aims
at, is exactly the same ; namely, that equality or superiority : and

24 butler's sermons.

objection ; aud that the principles and passions in the
mind of man, which are distinct both from self-love
and benevolence, primarily and most directly lead to
right behaviour with regard to others as well as him-
self, and only secondarily aud accidentally to what is
evil. Thus, though men, to avoid the shame of one
villainy, are sometimes guilty of a greater, yet it is easy
to see that the original tendency of shame is to prevent
• the doing of shameful actions; and its leading men
to conceal such actions when done is only in conse-
quence of their being done ; i.e., of the passion's not
having answered its first end.

If it be said that there are persons in the world
who are in great measure without the natural affec-
tions towards their fellow-creatures, there are likewise
instances of persons without the common natural
affections to themselves. But the nature of man is
not to be judged of by either of these, but by what
appears in the common world, in the bulk of man-
kind.

I am afraid it would be thought very strange, if
to confirm the truth of this account of human nature,
and make out the justness of the foregoing comparison,
it should be added that from what appears, men in
fact as much and as often contradict that part of their

consequently, that to do mischief is not the end of envy, but merely the
means it makes use of to attain its end. As to resentment, see the
Eighth Sermon.

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 25

nature which respects self, and which leads them to
their own 'private good and happiness, as they contra-
dict that part of it which respects society, and tends to
public good : that there are as few persons who attain
the greatest satisfaction and enjoyment which they
might attain in the present world, as who do the
greatest good to others which they might do; nay,
that there are as few who can be said really and in
earnest to aim at one as at the other. Take a survey
of mankind : the world in general, the good and bad,
almost without exception, equally are agreed that
were religion out of the case, the happiness of the
present life would consist in a manner wholly in riches,
honours, sensual gratifications; insomuch that one
scarce hears a reflection made upon prudence, life, con-
duct, but upon this supposition. Yet, on the contrary,
that persons in the greatest affluence of fortune are no
happier than such as have only a competency ; that the
cares and disappointments of ambition for the most
part far exceed the satisfactions of it ; as also the
miserable intervals of intemperance and excess, and the
many untimely deaths occasioned by a dissolute course
of life : these things are all seen, acknowledged, by
every one acknowledged ; but are thought no objections
against, though they expressly contradict, this uni-
versal principle — that the happiness of the present life
consists in one or other of them. Whence is all this
absurdity and contradiction ? Is not the middle way

26 butler's sermons.

obvious? Can anything be more manifest than that
the happiness of life consists in these possessed and
enjoyed only to a certain degree ; that to pursue them
beyond this degree is always attended with more in-
convenience than advantage to a man's self, and often
with extreme misery and unhappiness ? Whence, then,
I say, is all this absurdity and contradiction ? Is it
really the result of consideration in mankind, how they
may become most easy to themselves, most free from
care, and enjoy the chief happiness attainable in this
world ? Or is it not manifestly owing either to this,
that they have not cool and reasonable concern enough
for themselves to consider wherein their chief happi-
ness in the present life consists ; or else, if they do
consider it, that they will not act conformably to what
is the result of that consideration — i.e., reason-
able concern for themselves, or cool self-love, is pre-
vailed over by passion and appetite ? So that from
what appears there is no ground to assert that those
principles in the natnre of man, which most directly
lead to promote the good of our fellow- creatures, are
more generally or in a greater degree violated than
those which most directly lead us to promote our own
private good and happiness.

The sum of the whole is plainly this : The nature
of man considered in his single capacity, and with
respect only to the present world, is adapted and leads
him to attain the greatest happiness he can for himself

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 27

in the present -world. The nature of man considered
in his public or social capacity leads him to a right
behaviour in society, to that course of life which we ,
call virtue. Men follow or obey their nature in both
these capacities and respects to a certain degree, but
not entirely : their actions do not come up to the whole
of what their nature leads them to in either of these
capacities or respects : and they often violate their
nature in both; i.e., as they neglect the duties they owe
to their fellow-creatures, to which their nature leads
them, and are injurious, to which their nature is ab-
horrent, so there is a manifest negligence in men of
their real happiness or interest in the present world,
when that interest is inconsistent with a present grati-
fication ; for the sake of which they negligently, nay,
even knowingly, are the authors and instruments of
their own misery and ruin. Thus they are as often
unjust to themselves as to others, and for the most
part are equally so to both by the same actions.

*/«*fca- ^ '^) ,~- j * . tf^^^-fc

28 butler's sermons.

SERMON II., III.

UPON HUMAN NATURE.

Romans ii. 14.

For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things
contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto them-
selves.

As speculative truth admits of different kinds of proof,
so likewise moral obligations may be shown by dif-
ferent methods. If the real nature of any creature
leads him and is adapted to such and such purposes
only, or more than to any other, this is a reason to
believe the Author of that nature intended it for those
purposes. Thus there is no doubt the eye was intended
for us to see with. And the more complex any con-
stitution is, and the greater variety of parts there are
which thus tend to some one end, the stronger is the
proof that such end was designed. However, when
the inward frame of man is considered as any guide in
morals, the utmost caution must be used that none
make peculiarities in their own temper, or anything
which is the effect of particular customs, though ob-
servable in several, the standard of what is common to
the species; and above all, that the highest principle
be not forgot or excluded, that to which belongs the

"UPON HUMAN NATURE. 29

adjustment and correction of all other inward move-
ments and affections ; which principle will of course
have some influence, but which being in nature
supreme, as shall now be shown, ought to preside over
and govern all the rest. The difficulty of rightly ob-
serving the two former cautions ; the appearance there
is of some small diversity amongst mankind with re-
spect to this faculty, with respect to their natural
sense of moral good and evil ; and the attention
necessary to survey with any exactness what passes
within, have occasioned that it is not so much agreed
what is the standard of the internal nature of man
as of his external form. Neither is this last ex-
actly settled. Yet we understand one another when
we speak of the shape of a human body : so like-
wise we do when we speak of the heart and inward
principles, how far soever the standard is from being
exact or precisely fixed. There is therefore ground
for an attempt of showing men to themselves, of
showing them what course of life and behaviour
their real nature points out and would lead them to.
m. Now obligations of virtue shown, and motives to the
w practice of it enforced, from a review of the nature of
man, are to be considered as an appeal to each par-
ticular person's heart and natural conscience : as the
external senses are appealed to for the proof of things
eogmsabTe by them. Since, then, our inward feelings,
and the perceptions we receive from our external

^ 1

30 butler's sermons.

senses, are equally real, to argue from the former to
life and conduct is as little liable to exception as to
argue from the latter to absolute speculative truth. A
man can as little doubt whether his eyes were given
him to see with as he can doubt of the truth of the
science of optics, deduced from ocular experiments.
And allowing the inward feeling, shame, a man can
as little doubt whether it was given him to prevent his
doing shameful actions a? he can doubt whether his
eyes were given him to guide his steps. And as to
k these inward feelings themselves, that they are real,
that man has in his nature passions and affections, can
no more be questioned than that he has external
senses. Neither can the former be wholly mistaken,
though to a certain degree liable to greater mistakes
than the latter.

There can be no doubt but that several propensions
or instincts, several principles in the heart of man,
carry him to society, and to contribute to the happiness
of it, in a sense and a manner in which no inward
principle leads him to evil. These principles, propen-
sions, or instincts which lead him to do good are ap-
proved of by a certain faculty within, quite distinct
from these propensions themselves. All this hath
been fully made out in the foregoing discourse.

But it may be said, " What is all this, though true,
to the purpose of virtue and religion ? these require,
not only that we do good to others when we are led

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 31

chis way, by benevolence or reflection happening to be
stronger than other principles, passions, or appetites,
but likewise that the whole character be formed upon
thought and reflection ; that every action be directed
by some determinate rule, some other rule than the
strength and prevalency of any principle or passion.
What sign is there in our nature (for the inquiry is
only about what is to be collected from thence) that
this was intended by its Author ? Or how does so
various and fickle a temper as that of man appear
adapted thereto ? It may indeed be absurd and un-
natural for men to act without any reflection; nay,
without regard to that particular kind of reflection
which you call conscience, because this does belong to
our nature. For as there never was a man but who
approved one place, prospect, building, before another,
so it does not appear that there ever was a man who
would not have have approved an action of humanity
rather than of cruelty ; interest and passion being
quite out of the case. But interest and passion do
come in, and are often too strong for and prevail over
reflection and conscience. Now as brutes have various
instincts, by which they are carried on to the end the
Author of their nature intended them for, is not man
in the same condition — with this difference only, that
to his instincts (i.e., appetites and passion) is added
the principle of reflection or conscience ? And as
brutes act agreeably to their nature, in following that

dSS BUTLER S SERMONS.

principle or particular instinct which for the present
is strongest in them, does not man likewise act
agreeably to his nature, or obey the law of his creation,
by following that principle, be it passion or conscience,
which for the present happens to be strongest in
him ? Thus different men are by their particular
nature hurried on to pursue honour or riches or plea-
sure ; there are also persons whose temper leads them
in an uncommon degree to kindness, compassion,
doing good to their fellow-creatures, as there are
others who are given to suspend their judgment,
to weigh and consider things, and to act upon thought
and reflection. Let every one, then, quietly follow his
nature, as passion, reflection, appetite, the several
parts of it, happen to be strongest ; but let not
the man of virtue take upon him to blame the ambi-
tious, the covetous, the dissolute, since these equally
with him obey and follow their nature. Thus, as in
some cases we follow our nature in doing the works
contained in the law, so in other cases we follow
nature in doing contrary."

Now all this licentious talk entirely goes upon a
supposition that men follow their nature in the same
sense, in violating the known rules of justice and
honesty for the sake of a present gratification, as they
do in following those rules when they have no temp-
tation to the contrary. And if this were true, that
could not be so which St. Paul asserts, that men are

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 33

by nature a law to themselves. If by 'following nafn.ro
wore meant only acting as we please, it would indeed
be ridiculous to speak of nature as any guide in
morals; nay, the very mention of deviating from
nature would be absurd ; and the mention of fol-
lowing it, when spoken by way of distinction, would
absolutely have no meaning. For did ever any one
act otherwise than as he pleased? And yet the
ancients speak of deviating from nature as vice, and
of following nature so much as a distinction, that
according to them the perfection of virtue consists
therein. So that language itself should teach people
another sense to the words following nature than
barely acting as wo please. Let it, however, be ob-
served that though the words human nature are
to be explained, yet the real question of this discourse
is not concerning the meaning of words, any other
than as the explanation of them may he needful to
make out and explain the assertion, that every man
is naturally a law to himself, that every one may Jind
within himself the rule of right, and obligations to
follow it. This St. Paul affirms in the words of the
text, and this the foregoing objection really denies
by seeming to allow it. And the objection will
be fully answered, and the text before us explained,
by observing that nature is considered in different
views, and the word nsrd in diiferont senses ; and
by showing in what view it is considered, and in
b— 93

34 butler's sermons.

what sense the word is used, when intended to
express and signify that which is the guide of life,
that by which men are a law to themselves.'* I say,
the explanation of the term will be sufficient, because
from thence it will appear that in some senses of the
word nature cannot be, but that in another sense it
manifestly is, a law to us.

I. By nature is often meant no more than some
principle in man, without regard either to the kind
or degree of it. Thus the passion of anger, and the
affection of parents to their children, would be called
equally natural. And as the same person hath often
contrary principles, which at the same time draw
contrary ways, he may by the same action both follow
and contradict his nature in this sense of the word ;
he may folloAV one passion and contradict another.

II. Nature is frequently spoken of as consisting in
those passions which are strongest, and most influence
the actions ; which being vicious ones, mankind is in
this sense naturally vicious, or vicious by nature.
Thus St. Paul says of the Gentiles, who were dead in
trespasses and sins, and walked according to the
spirit of disobedience, that they were by nature the
children of wrath* They could be no otherwise
children of wrath by nature than they were vicious
by nature.

Here, then, are two different senses of the word

* Ephes. ii. 3.

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 35

nature, in neither of which men can at all be said to
be a law to themselves. They are mentioned only to
be excluded, to prevent their being confounded, as
the latter is in the objection, with another sense of it,
which is now to be inquired after and explained.

III. The apostle asserts that the Gentiles do by
NAl'URE the things contained in the law. Nature is
indeed here put by way of distinction from revelation,
but yet it is not a mere negative. He intends to
express more than that by which they did not, that by
which they did, the works of the law ; namely, by nature.
It is plain the meaning of "the word is not the same in
this passage as in the former, where it is spoken of as
evil ; for in this latter it is spoken of as good — as that
by which they acted, or might have acted, virtuously.
What that is in man by which he is naturally a law
to himself is explained in the following words : Which
show the work of the law written in their hearts, their
consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts
the meanwhile accusing or else excusing one another.
If there be a distinction to be made between the works
written in their hearts, and the witness of conscience,
by the former must be meant the natural disposition
to kindness and compassion to do what is of good
report, to which this apostle often refers : that part of
the nature of man, treated of in the foregoing dis-
course, which with very little reflection and of course
leads him to society, and by means of which he

Ob BUTLERS SERMONS.

naturally acts a just and good part in it, unless other
passions or interest lead him astray. Yet since other
passions, and regards to private interest, which lead us
(though indirectly, yet they lead us) astray, are them-
selves in a degree equally natural, and often most
prevalent, and since we have no method of seeing the
particular degrees in which one or the other is placed
in us by nature, it is plain the former, considered
merely as natural, good and right as they are, can no
more be a law to us than the latter. But there is a
superior principle of reflection or conscience in every
man, which distinguishes befoveen the internal princi-
ples of his heart, as well as his external actions ; which
passes judgment upon himself and them, pronounces
detcrminately some actions to be in themselves
just, right, good, others to be in themselves evil,
wrong, unjust : which, without being consulted, with-
out being advised with, magisterially exerts itself,
and approves or condemns him the doer of them
accordingly I and which, if not forcibly stopped,
naturally and always of course goes on to anticipate a
higher and more effectual sentence, which shall here-
after second and affirm its own. But this part of the
office of conscience is beyond my present design
explicitly to consider. It is by this faculty, natural to
num. that he is a moral agent, that he is a law to him-
self, but this faculty, 1 say, not to be considered
merely as a principle in his heart, which is to have

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 37

some influence as well as others, but considered as a
faculty in kind and in nature supreme over all others,
and which bears its own authority of being so.

This prerogative, this natural supremacy, of the
faculty which surveys, approves, or disapproves the
several affections of our mind and actions of our lives,
being that by which men are a law to themselves,
their conformity or disobedience to which law of our
nature renders their actions, in the highest and most
proper sense, natural or unnatural, it is fit it be
further explained to you ; and I hope it will be so, if
you will attend to the following reflections.

Man may act according to that principle or inclina-
tion which for the present happens to be strongest,
and yet act in a way disproportionate to, and violate
his real proper nature. Suppose a brute creature by
any bait to be allured into a snare, by which he is
destroyed. He plainly followed the bent of his nature,
leading him to gratify his appetite i there is an entire
correspondence between his whole nature and such an
action : such action therefore is natural. But suppose a
man, foreseeing the same danger of certain ruin, should
rush into it for the sake of a present gratification ; he in
this instance would follow his strongest desire, as did
the brute creature ; but there would be as manifest a
disproportion between the nature of a man and such
an action as between the meanest Avork of art and the
skill of the greatest master in that art ; which

38 BUTLER S SERMONS.

disproportion arises, not from considering the action
singly in itself, or in its consequences, but from com-
parison of it with the nature of the agent. And since
such an action is utterly disproportionate to the nature
of man, it is in the strictest and most proper sense
unnatural; this word expressing that disproportion.
Therefore, instead of the words disproportionate
to his nature, the word unnatural may now be put ;
this being more familiar to us : but let it be observed
that it stands for the same thing precisely.

Now what is it which renders such a rash action un-
natural ? Is it that he went against the principle of
reasonable and cool self-love, considered merely as a
part of his nature ? No ; for if he had acted the
contrary way, he would equally have gone against a
principle, or part of his nature — namely, passion or
appetite. But to deny a present appetite, from fore-
sight that the gratification of it would end in im-
mediate ruin or extreme misery, is by no means an
unnatural action : whereas to contradict or go against
cool self-love for the sake of such gratification is so
in the instance before us. Such an action then being
unnatural, and its being so not arising from a man's
going against a principle or desire barely, nor in going
against that principle or desire which happens for
the present to be strongest, it necessarily follows that
there must be some other difference or distinction to
be made between these two principles, passion and

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 39

cool self-love, than what I have yet taken notice of.
And this difference, not being a difference in strength
or degree, I call a difference in nature and in hind.
And since, in the instanco still before us, if passion
prevails over self-love the consequent action is un-
natural, but if self-love prevails over passion the
action is natural, it is manifest that self-love is in
human nature a superior principle to passion. This
may be contradicted without violating that nature ;
but the former cannot. So that, if we will act con-
formably to the economy of man's nature, reasonable
self-love must govern. Thus, without particular con-
sideration of conscience, we may have a clear concep-
tion of the superior nature of one inward principle to
another, and see that there really is this natural
superiority, quito distinct from degrees of strength
and prevalency.

Let us now take a view of the nature of man, as
consisting partly of various appetites, passions, affec-
tions, and partly of the principle of reflection or
conscience, leaving quite out all consideration of the
different degrees of strength in which either of them
prevails, and it will further appear that there is this
natural superiority of one inward principle to another,
and that it is even part of the idea of reflection or
conscience.

Passion or appetite implies a direct simple tendency
towards such and such objects, without distinction of

40 butler's sermons.

the means by which they are to be obtained. Con-
sequently it will often happen there will be a desire
of particular objects, in cases where they cannot bo
obtained without manifest injury to others. Reflec-
tion or conscience comes in, and disapproves the pur-
suit of them in these circumstances ; but the desire
remains. Which is to be obeyed, appetite or reflec-
tion ? Cannot this question be answered, from the
economy and constitution of human nature merely,
without saying which is strongest ? Or need this at all
come into consideration ? Would not the question be
intelligibly and fully answered by saying that the
principle of reflection or conscience being compared
with the various appetites, passions, and affections in
men, the former is manifestly superior and chief,
without regard to strength ? And how often soever
the latter happens to prevail, it is mere usurpation :
the former remains in nature and in kind its superior ;
and every instance of such prevalence of the latter is
an instance of breaking in upon and violation of the
constitution of man.

All this is no more than the distinction, which every-
body is acquainted with, between mere power and
authority : only instead of being intended to express
the difference between what is possible and what is
lawful in civil government, hero it has been shown
applicable to the several principles in the mind of man.
Thus that principlo by which we survey, and either

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 41

approve or disapprove our own heart, temper, and
actions, is not only to be considered as what is in its
turn to have some influence — which may be said of
every passion, of the lowest appetites — but likewise as
being superior, as from its very nature manifestly
claiming superiority over all others, insomuch that
you cannot form a notion of this faculty, conscience,
without taking in judgment, direction, superintendeiicy.
This is a constituent part of the idea — that is, of the
faculty itself ; and to preside and govern, from the
very economy and constitution of man, belongs to it.
Had it strength, as it had right ; had it power, as it
had manifest authority, it would absolutely govern the
world.

This gives us a further view of the nature of man ;
ehows us what course of life we were made for : not
only that our real nature leads us to be influenced in
some degree by reflection and conscience, but like-
wise in what degree we are to be influenced by it, if
we will fall in with, and act agreeably to, the consti-
tution of our nature : that this faculty was placed
within to be our proper governor, to direct and
regulate all under principles, passions, and motives
of action. This is its right and office : thus sacred is
its authority. And how often soever men violate
and rebelliously refuse to submit to it, for supposed
interest which they cannot otherwise obtain, or for
the sake of passion which they cannot otherwise

42 butler's sermons.

gratify — this makes no alteration as to the natural
right and office of conscience.

Let us now turn this whole matter another way,
and suppose there was no such thing at all as this
natural supremacy of conscience — that there was no
distinction to be made between one inward principle
and another, but only that of strength — and see what
would be the consequence.

Consider, then, what is the latitude and compass of
the actions of man with regard to himself, his fellow-
qreatures, and the Supreme Being ? What are their
bounds, besides that of our natural power? With
respect to the two first, they are plainly no other
than these : no man seeks misery, as such, for himself ;
and no one unprovoked does mischief to another for
its own sake. For in every degree within these
bounds, mankind knowingly, from passion or wanton-
ness, bring ruin and misery upon themselves and
others. And impiety and profaneness — I mean what
every one would call so who believes the being of
God — have absolutely no bounds at all. Men
blaspheme the Author of nature, formally and in
words renounce their allegiance to their Creator.
Put an instance, then, with respect to any one of
these three. Though we should suppose profane
swearing, and in general that kind of impiety now
mentioned, to mean nothing, yet it implies wanton
disregard and irreverence towards an infinite Being

UPON HUMAN NATUEE. 43

our Creator ; and is this as suitable to the nature of
man as reverence and dutiful submission of heart
towards that Almighty Being? Or suppose a man
guilty of parricide, with all the circumstances of
cruelty which such an action can admit of. This
action is done in consequence of its principle being
for the present strongest; and if there be no dif-
ference between inward principles, but only that of
strength, the strength being given you have the
whole nature of the man given, so far as it relates to
this matter. The action plainly corresponds to the
principle, the principle being in that degree of
strength it was : it therefore corresponds to the
whole nature of the man. Upon comparing the action
and the whole nature, there arises no disproportion,
there appears no unsuitableness, between them. Thus
the murder of a father and the nature of man cor-
respond to each other, as the same nature and an
act of filial duty. If there be no difference between
inward principles, but only that of strength, we
can make no distinction between these two actions'
considered as the actions of such a creature ; but in
our coolest hours must approve or disapprove them
equally : than which nothing can be reduced to a
greater absurdity.

44 butler's sermons.

SERMON III.

The natural supremacy of reflection or conscience
being thus established, wo may from it form a dis-
tinct notion of what is meant by human nature when
virtue is said to consist in following it, and vice in
deviating from it.

As the idea of a civil constitution implies in it
united strength, various subordinations under one
direction— that of the supreme authority — the different
strength of eacli particular member of the society not
coming into the idea — whereas, if you leave out the
subordination, the union, and the one direction, you
destroy and lose it — so reason, several appetites,
passions, and affections, prevailing in different degrees
of strength, is not that idea or notion of human
nature ; but that nature consists in these several
principles considered as having a natural respect to
each other, in the several passions being naturally
subordinate to the one superior principle of reflection
or conscience. Every bias, instinct, propensiou within,
is a natural part of our nature, but not the whole :
add to these the superior faculty whose office it is to
adjust, manage, and preside over them, and take in
this its natural superiority, and you complete the
idea of human nature. And as in civil government
the constitution is broken in upon and violated by
power and strength prevailing over authority; so

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 4<>

the constitution of man is broken in upon and violated
by the lower faculties or principles within prevailing
over that which is in its nature supreme over them all.
Thus, when it is said by ancient writers that tortures
and death aro not so contrary to human nature as
injustice, by this, to be sure, is not meant that the
aversion to the former in mankind is less strong and
prevalent than their aversion to the latter, but that
the f owner is only contrary to our nature considered in
a partial view, and which takes in only the lowest
part of it, that which wo have in common with the
brutes ; whereas the latter is contrary to our nature,
considered in a higher sense, as a system and consti-
tution contrary to the whole economy of man.*

* Every man in his physical nature is one individual single agent.
He has likewise properties and principles, each of which may be con-
sidered separately, and without regard to the respects which they
have to each other. Neither of these is the nature we are taking
a view of. But it is the inward frame of man considered as a system
or constitution : whose several parts are united, not by a physical
principle of individuation, but by the respects they have to each other ;
the chief of which is the subjection which the appetites, passions, and
particular affections have to the one supreme principle of rellection
or conscience. The system or constitution is formed by and consists
in these respects and this subjection. Thus the body is a system or
constitution: so is a tree: so is every machine. Consider all the
several parts of a tree without the natural respects they have to each
other, and you have not at all the idea of a tree ; but add these
respects, and this gives you the idea. The body may be impaired
by sickness, a tree may decay, a machine be out of order, and yet
the system and constitution of them not totally dissolved. There is
plainly somewhat which answers to all this in the moral constitution
of man. Whoever will consider his own nature will see that the
several appetites, passions, and particular affections have different

16 butler's sermons.

And from all these things put together, nothing
can be moro evident than that, exclusive of revelation,
man cannot be considered as a creature left by his
Maker to act at random, and live at large up to the
extent of his natural power, as passion, humour, wil-
fulness, happen to carry him, which is the condition
brute creatures are in ; but that from his make, con-
stitution, or nature, he is in the strictest and most
proper sense a law to himself. He hath the rule of
right within : what is wanting is only that he honestly
attend to it.

The inquiries which have been made by men of
leisure after some general rule, the conformity to or
disagreement from which should denominate our
actions good or evil, are in many respects of great

respects amongst themselves. They are restraints upon, and are in
a proportion to, each other. This proportion is just and perfect,
when all those under principles are perfectly coincident with con-
science, so far as their nature permits, and in all cases under its
absolute and entire direction. The least excess or defect, the least
alteration of the due proportions amongst themselves, or of their co-
incidence with conscience, though not proceeding into action, is some
degree of disorder in the moral constitution. But perfection, though
plainly intelligible and unsupposable, was never attained by any man.
If the higher principle of reflection maintains its place, and as much
as it can corrects that disorder, and hinders it from breaking out
into action, this is all that can be expected in such a creature as
man. And thougli the appetites and passions have not their exact
due proportion to each other, though they often strive for mastery
with judgment or reflection, yet, since the superiority of this prin-
ciple to all others is the chief respect which forms the constitution,
so far as this superiority is maintained, the character, the man, is
good, worthy, virtuous.

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 47

service. Yet let any plain, honest man, before he I
engages in any course of action, ask himself, Is this I \
am going about right, or is it wrong? Is it good, or
is it evil ? I do not in the least doubt but that this
question would be answered agreeably to truth and
virtue, by almost any fair man in almost any circum-
stance. Neither do there appear any cases which
look like exceptions to this, but those of superstition,
and of partiality to ourselves. Superstition may >
perhaps be somewhat of an exception ; but partiality
to ourselves is not, this being itself dishonesty. For
a man to judge that to be the equitable, the moderate,
the right part for him to act, which he would see
to bo hard, unjust, oppressive in another, this is plain
vice, and can proceed only from great unfairness of
mind.

But allowing that mankind hath the rule of right
within himself, yet it maybe asked, " What obligations
are we under to attend to and follow it ? " 1 answer :
It has been proved that man by his nature is a law to
himself, without the particular distinct consideration
of the positive sanctions of that law : the rewards and
punishments which we feel, and those which from the
light of reason we have ground to believe, are annexed
to it. The question, then, carries its own answer along
with it. Your obligation to obey this law is its being
the law of your nature. Tiiat your conscience approves
of and attests to such a course of action is itself alone

43 butler's sermons.

an obligation. Conscience does not only offer itself to
show us the way wo should walk in, but it likewise
carries its own authority with it, that it is our natural
guide ; the guide assigned us by the Author of our
nature : it therefore belongs to our condition of being;
it is our duty to walk in that path, and follow this
guide, without looking about to see whether we may
not possibly forsake them with impunity.

However, let us hear what is to be said against
obeying this law of our nature. And the sum is no
more than this : " Why should we be concerned about
anything out of and beyond ourselves ? If we do find
within ourselves regards to others, and restraints of we
know not how many different kinds, yet these being
embarrassments, and hindering us from going the
nearest way to our own good, why should we not en-
deavour ta suppress and get over them ? "

Thus people go on with words, which when applied to
human nature, and the condition in which it is placed
in this world, have really no meaning. For does not
all this kind of talk go upon supposition, that our
happiness in this world consists in somewhat quite dis-
tinct from regard to others, and that it is the privilege
of vice to be without restraint or confinement?
Whereas, on the contrary, the enjoyments — in a maimer
all the common enjoyments of life, even the pleasures
of vice — depend upon these regards of one kind or
another to our fellow-creatures. Throw off all regards

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 49

to others, and we should be quite indifferent to infamy
and to honour ; there could be no such thing at all
as ambition ; and scarce any such thing1 as covetousness ;
for we. should likewise be equally indifferent to the
disgrace of poverty, the several neglects and kinds of
contempt which accompany this state, and to the re-
putation of riches, the regard and respect they usually
procure. Neither is restraint by any means peculiar to
one course of life; but our very nature, exclusive of
conscience and our condition, lays us under an absolute
necessity of it. "We cannot gain any end whatever
without being confined to the proper means, which is
often the most painful and uneasy confinement. A] id
in numberless instances a present appetite cannot be
gratified without such apparent and immediate ruin and
misery that the most dissolute man in the world
chooses to forego the pleasure rather than endure the
pain.

Is the meaning, then, to indulge those regards to our
fellow-creatures, and submit to those restraints which
upon the whole are attended with more satisfaction
than uneasiness, and get over only those which bring
more uneasiness and inconvenience than satisfaction 1
" Doubtless this was our meaning." You have changed
sides then. Keep to this ; be consistent with your-
selves, and you and the men of virtue are in general
perfectly agreed. But let us take care and avoid
mistakes. Let it not be taken for granted that the

50 butler's sermons.

temper of envy, rage, resentment, yields greater
delight than meekness, forgiveness, compassion, and
good- will ; especially when it is acknowledged that
rage, envy, resentment, are in themselves mere misery ;
and that satisfaction arising from the indulgence of
them is little more than relief from that misery ;
whereas the temper of compassion and benevolence is
itself delightful; and the indulgence of it, by doing
good, affords new positive delight and enjoyment.
Let it not be taken for granted that the satisfaction
arising from the reputation of riches and power, how-
ever obtained, and from the respect paid to them, is
greater than the satisfaction arising from the reputa-
tion of justice,honesty, charity, and the esteem which is
universally acknowledged to be their due. And if it be
doubtful which of these satisfactions is the greatest,
as there are persons who think neither of them very
considerable, yet there can bo no doubt concerning
ambition and covetousness, virtue and a good mind,
considered in themselves, and as leading to different
courses of life ; there can, I say, be no doubt, which
temper and which course is attended with most peace
and tranquillity of mind, which with most perplexity,
vexation, and inconvenience. And both the virtues
and vices which have been now mentioned, do in a
manner equally imply in them regards of one kind or
another to our fellow-creatures. And with respect to
restraint and confinement, whoever will consider the

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 51

restraints from fear and shame, the dissimulation,
mean arts of concealment, servile compliances, one or
other of which belong to almost every course of vice,
will soon be convinced that the man of virtue is by no
means upon a disadvantage in this respect. How
many instances are there in which men feel and own
and cry aloud under the chains of vice with which they
are enthralled, and which yet they will not shake off !
How many instances, in which persons manifestly go
through more pains and self-denial to gratify a vicious
passion, than would have been necessary to the
conquest of it ! To this is to be added, that when
virtue is become habitual, when the temper of it is
acquired, what was before confinement ceases to be so
by becoming choice and delight. Whatever restraint
and guard upon ourselves may be needful to unlearn
any unnatural distortion or odd gesture, yet in all
propriety of speech, natural behaviour must be the
most easy and unrestrained. It is manifest that, in the
common course of life, there is seldom any incon-
sistency between our duty and what is called interest :
it is much seldomer that there is an inconsistency
between duty and what is really our present interest ;
meaning by interest, happiness and satisfaction. Self-
love, then, though confined to the interest of the present
world, does in general perfectly coincide with virtue,
and leads us to one and the same course of life. But,
whatever exceptions there are to this, which are much

52 butler's sermons.

fewer than they are commonly thought, all shall be set
right at the final distribution of things. It is a

I manifest absurdity to suppose evil prevailing finally
over good, under the conduct and administration of a
perfect mind.

The whole argument, which I have been now insist-
ing upon, may be thus summed up, and given you in
one view. The naturo of man is adapted to some
course of action or other. Upon comparing some
actions with this nature, they appear suitablo and
correspondent to it : from comparison of other actions
with the same nature, thero arises to our view some
unsuitableness or disproportion. The correspondence
of actions to the nature of the agent renders them
natural ; their disproportion to it, unnatural. That an
action is correspondent to the nature of the agent does
not arise from its being agreeable to the principle
which happens to be the strongest : for it may be so
and yet be quite disproportinate to the nature of the
agent. The correspondence therefore, or disproportion,
arises from somewhat else. This can be nothing but a
difference in nature and kind, altogether distinct from
strength, between the inward principles. Some then
aro in nature and kind superior to others. And the
correspondence arises from the action being con-
formable to the higher principle ; and the unsuitable-
ness from its being contrary to it. Reasonable self-
/ lovo and conscience aro the chief or superior principles

i

UPON HUMAN NATURE. 53

in the nature of man; because an action may be
suitable to this nature, though all other principles be
violated, but becomes unsuitable if either of those are.
y Conscience and self-lovo, if we understand our true
happiness, always lead us the same way. Duty and
interest are perfectly coincident ; for the most part in
. this world, but entirely and in every instance if we
V take in the future and the whole; this being implied
in the notion of a good and perfect administration of
things. Thus they who have been so wise in their
generation as to regard only their own supposed
interest, at the expense and to the injury of others, shall
at last find, that he who has given up all the
advantages of the present world, rather than violate
his conscience and the relations of life, has infinitely
better provided for himself, and secured his own
interest and happiness.

54 butler's sermons.

SERMON IV.

UPON THE GOVERNMENT OF THE
TONGUE.

James i. 26.

// any man among yon seem to oe religions, and bridleth not his tongue,
but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain.

The translation of this text would be more determinate
by being more literal, thus : If any man among you
seemeth to be religious, not bridling his tongue, but
deceiving his own heart, this man's religion is vain.
This determines that the words, but deceiveth his own
heart, are not put in opposition to seemeth to be re-
ligious, but to bridleth not his tongue. The certain
determinate meaning of the text then being, that he
who seemeth to be religious, and bridleth not his
tongue, but in that particular deceiveth his own heart,
this man's religion is vain, we may observe somewhat
very forcible and expressive in these words of St.
James. As if the apostle had said, No man surely
can make any pretences to religion, who does not at
least believe that he bridleth his tongue : if he puts on
any appearance or face of religion, and yet does not
govern his tongue, he must surely deceive himself in

UPON THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE. 55

that particular, and think he does ; and whoever is so
unhappy as to deceive himself in this, to imagine he
keeps that unruly faculty in due subjection when indeed
he does not, whatever the other part of his life be, his
religion is vain ; the government of the tongue being a
most material restraint which virtue lays us under :
without it no man can be truly religious.

In treating upon this subject, I will consider,

First, what is the general vice or fault here referred
to ; or what disposition in men is supposed in moral
reflections and precepts concerning bridling the
tongue.

Secondly, when it may bo said of any one, that he
has a due government over himself in this respect.

I. Now, the fault referred to, and the disposition
supposed, in precepts and reflections concerning the
government of the tongue, is not evil-speaking from
malice, nor lying or bearing false witness from indirect
selfish designs. The disposition to these, and the
actual vices themselves, all come under other subjects.
The tongue may be employed about, and made to serve
all the purposes of vice, in tempting and deceiving, in
perjury and injustice. But the thing here supposed
and referred to, is talkativeness : a disposition to be
talking, abstracted from the consideration of what is to
be said ; with very little or no regard to, or thought of
doing, either good or harm. And let not any imagine
this to be a slight matter, and that it deserves not to

56 BUTLEli's SERMONS.

have so great weight laid upon it, till he has con-
sidered what evil is implied in it, and the bad effects
which follow from it. It is perhaps true, that they who
are addicted to this folly would choose to confine them-
selves to trifles and indifferent subjects, and so intend
only to bo guilty of being impertinent ■ but as they
cannot go on for ever talking of nothing, as common
matters will not afford a sufficient fund for perpetual
continued discourse, when subjects of this kind are
exhausted they will go on to defamation, scandal,
divulging of secrets, their own secrets as well as those
of others— anything rather than be silent. They are
plainly hurried on in the heat of their talk to say quite
different things from what they first intended, and
which they afterwards wish unsaid: or improper
tilings, which they had no other end in saying, but
only to afford employment to their tongue. And if
these people expect to be heard and regarded— for there
are some content merely with talking — they will invent
to engage your attention : and, when they have heard
the least imperfect hint of an affair, they will out of
their own head add the circumstances of time and
place, and other matters to make out their story and
give the appearance of probability to it : not that they
have any concern about being believed, otherwise than
as a means of being heard. The thing is, to engage
your attention; to take you up wholly for the present
time : what reflections will be made afterwards, is in

UPON THE GOVERNMENT OP THE TONGUE. 57

truth the least of their thoughts. And further, when
persons who indulge themselves in these liberties of
the tongue are in any degree offended with another — ■
as little disgusts and misunderstandings will be — they
allow themselves to defame and revile such a one
without any moderation or bounds ; though the offence
is so very slight, that they themselves would not do,
nor perhaps wish him, an injury in any other way.
And in this case the scandal and revilings are chiefly
owing to talkativeness, and not bridling their tongue,
and so come under our present subject. The least
occasion in the world will make the humour break out
in this particular way. or in another. It is like a
torrent, which must and will flow ; but the least thing
imaginable will first of all give it either this or another
direction, turn it into this or that channel : or like a
fire — the naturo of which, when in a heap of com-
bustible matter, is to spread and lay waste all around ;
but any one of a thousand little accidents will oc-
casion it to break out first either in this or another par-
ticular part.

The subject then before us, though it does run up
into, and can scarce be treated as entirely distinct from
all others, yet it needs not be so much mixed or
blended with them as it often is. Every faculty and
power may be used as the instrument of premeditated
vice and wickedness, merely as the most proper and
effectual means of executing such designs. But if a

58 butler's sermons.

man, from deep malice and desire of revenge, should
meditate a falsehood with a settled design to ruin his
neighbour's reputation, and should with great coolness
and deliberation spread it, nobody would choose to say
of such a one that he had no government of his
tongue. A man may use the faculty of speech as an
instrument of false witness, who yet has so entire a
command over that faculty as never to speak but from
forethought and cool design. Here the crime is
injustice and perjury, and, strictly speaking, no more
belongs to the present subject than perjury and
injustice in any other way. But there is such a thing
as a disposition to be talking for its own sake ; from
which persons often say anything, good or bad, of
others, merely as a subject of discourse, according to
the particular temper they themselves happen to be in,
and to pass away the present time. There is likewise
to be observed in persons such a strong and eager
desire of engaging attention to what they say, that they
will speak good or evil, truth or otherwise, merely as
one or the other seems to be most hearkened to : and
this, though it is sometimes joined, is not the same
with the desire of being thought important and men of
consequence. There is in some such a disposition to
be talking, that an offence of the slightest kind, and
such as would not raise any other resentment, yet
raises, if I may so speak, the resentment of the tongue
— puts it into a flame, into the most ungovernable

UPON THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE. 59

motions. This outrage, when the person it respects
is present, we distinguish in the lower rank of people
by a peculiar term : and let it be observed, that though
the decencies of behaviour are a little kept, the same
outrage and virulence, indulged when he is absent, is
an offence of the same kind. But, not to distinguish
any further in this manner, men run into faults and
follies which cannot so properly be referred to any one
general head as this — that they have not a due govern-
ment over their tongue.

And this unrestrained volubility and wantonness of
speech is the occasion of numberless evils and vexations
in life. It begets resentment in him who is the subject
of it, sows the seed of strife and dissension amongst
others, and inflames little disgusts and offences which
if let alone would wear away of themselves : it is often
of as bad effect upon the good name of others, as deep
envy or malice : and to say the least of it in this
respect, it destroys and perverts a certain equity of
the utmost importance to society to be observed —
namely, that praise and dispraise, a good or bad
character, should always be bestowed according to
desert. The tongue used in such a licentious manner
is like a sword in the hand of a madman ; it is em-
ployed at random, it can scarce possibly do any good,
and for the most part does a world of mischief ; and
implies not only great folly and a trifling spirit, but
great viciousness of mind, great indifference to truth

GO but:,er's sermons.

and falsity, and to the reputation, welfare, and good
of others. So much reason is there for what St.
James says of the tongue, It is a fire, a world of
iniquity, it defileth the whole body, setteth on fire
the course of nature, and is itself set on fire of
hell* This is the faculty or disposition which we
are required to keep a guard upon : these are the
vices and follies it runs into when not kept under due
restraint.

II. Wherein the due government of the tongue con-
sists, or when it may be said of any one in a moral and
religious sense that he bridleth his tongue, I come now
to consider.

The due and proper use of any natural faculty or
power is to be judged of by the end and design for
which it was given us. The chief purpose for which
the faculty of speech was given to man is plainly that
we might communicate our thoughts to each other, in
order to carry on the affairs of the world ; for business,
and for our improvement in knowledge and learning.
But the good Author of our nature designed us not
only necessaries, but likewise enjoyment and satisfac-
tion, in that being He hath graciously given, and in
that condition of life He hath placed us in. There are
secondary uses of our faculties : they administer to
delight, as well as to necessity ; and as they are equally
adapted to both, there is no doubt but Ho intended
* Chap, iii., ver. 0.

UPON THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE. 61

them for our gratification as well as for the support
and continuance of our being. The secondary use of
speech is to please and be entertaining to each other in
conversation. This is in every respect allowable and
right ; it unites men closer in alliances and friendships ;
gives us a fellow-feeling of the prosperity and un-
liappiness of each other ; and is in several respects
servicable to virtue, and to promote good behaviour in
the world. And provided there be not too much time
spent in it, if it were considered only in the way of
gratification and delight, men must have strange notion
of God and of religion to think that Ho can be
offended with it, or that it is any way inconsistent
with the strictest virtue. But the truth is, such sort
of conversation, though it has no particular good
tendency, yet it has a general good one ; it is social and
friendly, and tends to promote humanity, good-nature,
and civility.

As the end and use, so likewise the abuse of speech,
rolates to the one or other of these : either to business
or to conversation. As to the former : deceit in the
management of business and affairs does not properly
belong to the subject now before us : though one may
just mention that multitude, that endless number of
words with whicli business is perplexed, when a much
fewdr would, as it should seem, better serve the pur-
pose ; but this must be left to those who understand
the matter. The government of the tongue, considered

62 butler's sermons.

as a subject of itself, relates chiefly to conversation ; to
that kind of discourse which usually fills up the time
spent in friendly meetings and visits of civility. And
the danger is, lest persons entertain themselves and
others at the expense of their wisdom and their virtue,
and to the injury or offence of their neighbour. If
they will observe and keep clear of these, they
may be as free and easy and unreserved as they can
desire.

The cautions to be given for avoiding these dangers,
and to render conversation innocent and agreeable, fall
under the following particulars : silence ; talking of
indifferent things; and, which makes up too great a
part of conversation, giving of characters, speaking
well or evil of others.

The Wise Man observes that " there is a time to
speak, and a time to keep silence." One meets with
people in the world who seem never to have made the
last of these observations. And yet these great talkers
do not at all speak from their having anything to say,
as every sentence shows, but only from their inclina-
tion to be talking. Their conversation is merely an
exercise of the tongue : no other human faculty has
any share in it. It is strange these persons can help
reflecting, that unless they have in truth a superior
capacity, and are in an extraordinary manner furnished
for conversation if they are entertaining, it is at their
own expense. Is it possible that it should never come

UPON THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE. 63

into people's thoughts to suspect whether or no it be
to their advantage to show so very much of themselves ?
" O that you would altogether hold your peace, and it
should be your wisdom." * Remember likewise there
are persons who love fewer words, an inoffensive sort
of people, and who deserve some regard, though of too
still and composed tempers for you. Of this number
was the Son of Sirach : for he plainly speaks from
experience when he says, " As hills of sand are to the
steps of the aged, so is one of many words to a quiet
man." But one would think it should be obvious to
every one, that when they are in company with their
superiors of any kind — in years, knowledge, and
experience — when proper and useful subjects are dis-
coursed of, which they cannot bear a part in, that
these are times for silence, when they should learn to
hear, and bo attentive, at least in their turn. It is
indeed a very unhappy way these people are in ; they in
a manner cut themselves out from all advantage of con-
versation, except that of being entertained with their
own talk : their business in coming into company not
being at all to be informed, to hear, to learn, but to dis-
play themselves, or rather to exert their faculty, and
talk without any design at all. And if we consider con-
versation as an entertainment, as somewhat to unbend
the mind, as a diversion from the cares, the business,
and the sorrows of life, it is of the very nature of it
* Job xiii. 5.

64 butler's sermons.

that, the discourse be mutual. This, I say, is implied
in the very notion of what wo distinguish by conversa-
tion, or being in company. Attention to the continued
discourse of one alone grows more painful, often, than
the cares and business Ave come to be diverted from.
He, therefore, who imposes this upon us is guilty of a
double offence — arbitrarily enjoining silence upon all
the rest, and likewise obliging them to this painful
attention.

I am sensible those things are apt to be passed over,
as too little to come into a serious discourse ; but in
reality men are obliged, even in point of morality and
virtue, to observe all the decencies of behaviour. The
greatest evils in life have had their rise from some-
what Avhicli was thought of too little importance to be
attended to. And as to the matter we are now upon,
it is absolutely necessary to be considered. For if
people will not maintain a due government over them-
selves, in regarding proper times and seasons for
silence, but will be talking, they certainly, whether
they design it or not at first, will go on to scandal and
evil- speaking, and divulging secrets.

If it were needful to say anything further to per-
suade men to learn this lesson of silence, one might
put them in mind how insignificant they render
themselves by this excessive talkativeness: insomuch
that, if they do chance to say anything which de-
serves to be attended to and regarded, it is lost in

UPON THE GOVEIJNMENT OE THE TONGUE. »>5

the variety and abundance which they utter of another
sort.

Tho occasions of silence then are obvious, and one
would think should be easily distinguished by every -
i body : namely, when a man has nothing to say; or
nothing but what is better unsaid : better, either in
regard to the particular persons he is present with;
or from its being an interruption to conversation
itself ; or to conversation of a more agreeable kind ; or
better, lastly, with regard to himself. I will end this
particular with two reflections of the Wise Man ; one
of which, in the strongest manner, exposes the
ridiculous part of this licentiousness of the tongue ;
and the other, tho great danger and viciousness of it.
When he that is a fool walketh by the way side, his
wisdom faileih him, and he saith to every one that he
is a fool* Tho other is, In the multitude of words
there wanteth not sin.f

As to tho government of the tongue in respect to
talking upon indifferent subjects : after what has been
said concerning the duo government of it in respect to
the occasions and times for silence, there is little more
necessary than only to caution men to be fully
satisfied that the subjects are indeed of an indifferent
nature ; and not to spend too much time in conversation
of this kind. But persons must be sure to take heed
that the subject of their discourse be at least of an

* Eccles. x. 3. t Prov. x 19.

c— 93

66 butler's sermons,

indifferent nature : that it be no way offensive to
virtue, religion, or good manners : that it be not of a
licentious, dissolute sort, this leaving always ill im-
pressions upon the mind ; that it be no way injurious
or vexatious to others ; and that too much time bo not
spent this way, to the neglect of those duties and offices
of life which belong to their station and condition in
the world. However, though there is not any necessity
that men should aim at being important and weighty
in every sentence they speak : yet since useful subjects,
at least of some kinds, are as entertaining as others,
a wise man, even when he desires to unbend his mind
from business, would choose that the conversation
might turn upon somewhat instructive.

The last thing is, the government of the tongue as
relating to discourse of the affairs of others, and
giving of characters. These are in a manner the
same ; and one can scarce call it an indifferent subject,
because discourse upon it almost perpetually runs into
somewhat criminal.

And, first of all, it were very much to be wished
that this did not take up so great a part of conversa-
tion; because it is indeed a subject of a dangerous
nature. Let any one consider the various interests,
competitions, and little misunderstandings which arise
amongst men ; and he will soon see that he is not un-
prejudiced and impartial; that he is not, as I may
speak, neutral enough to trust himself with talking

UPON THE GOVERNMENT OP THE TONGUE. 67

of the character and concerns of his neighbour, in a
free, careless, and unreserved manner. There is per-
petually, and often it is not attended to, a rivalship
amongst people of one kind or another in respect to
wit, beauty, learning, fortune, and that one thing will
insensibly influence them to speak to the disadvantage
of others, even where there is no formed malice or
ill-design. Since therefore it is so hard to enter into
this subject without offending, the first thing to be
observed is that people should learn to decline it ; to
get over that strong inclination most have to be
talking of the concerns and behaviour of their neigh-
bour.

But since it is impossible that this subject should be
wholly excluded conversation ; and since it is necessary
that the characters of men should be known : the next
thing is that it is a matter of importance what is said ;
and, therefore, that we should be religiously scrupulous
and exact to say nothing, either good or bad, but what
is true. I put it thus, because it is in reality of as
great importance to the good of society, that the
characters of bad men should be known, as that the
characters of good men should. People who are given
to scandal and detraction may indeed make an ill-use
of this observation; but truths, which are of service
towards regulating our conduct, are not to be disowned,
or even concealed, because a bad use may be made of
them. This however would be effectually prevented

68 butler's sermons.

if these two things were attended to. First, That,
though it is equally of bad consequence to society
that men should have either good or ill characters
which they do not deserve ; yet, when you say some-
what good of a man which he does not deserve, there
is no wrong done him in particular; whereas, when
you say evil of a man which he does not deserve, here
is a direct formal injury, a real piece of injustice done
him. This therefore makes a wide difference ; and
gives us, in point of virtue, much greater latitude in
speaking well than ill of others. Secondly, A good
man is friendly to his fellow- creatures, and a lover of
mankind ; and so will, upon every occasion, and often
without any, say all the good he can of everybody;
but, so far as he is a good man, will never be disposed
to speak evil of any, unless there be some other reason
for it, besides, barely that it is true. If lie be charged
with having given an ill character, he will scarce think
it a sufficient justification of himself to say it was a
true one, unless he can also give some further account
how he came to do so : a just indignation against par-
ticular instances of villainy, where they are great and
scandalous ; or to prevent an innocent man from being
deceived and betrayed, when he has great trust and
confidence in one who does not deserve it. Justice
must be done to every part of a subject when we are
considering it. If there be a man. who bears a fair
character in the world, whom yet we know to be

UPON THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE. 69

without faith or honesty, to be really an ill man; it
must be allowed in general that we shall do a piece of
service to society by letting such a one's true cha-
racter be known. This is no more than what we have
an instance of in our Saviour himself; * though He was
mild and gentle beyond example. However, no words
can express too strongly the caution which should be
used in such a case as this.

Upon the whole matter : If people would observe
the obvious occasions of silence, if they would sub-
due the inclination to talebearing, and that eager
desire to engage attention, which is an original
disease in some minds, they would be in little danger
of offending with their tongue ; and would, in a
moral and religious sense, have due government
over it.

I will conclude with some precepts and reflections
of the Son of Sirach upon this subject. Be swift to
hear; and, if thou hast understanding, answer thy
neighbour; if not, lay thy hand upon thy mouth.
Honour and shame is in talk. A man of an ill
tongue is dangerous in his city, and he that is rash
in his talk shall be hated. A wise man will hold his
tongue till he see opportunity ; but a babbler and a
fool will regard no time. He that useth many words
shall be abhorred; and he that laketh to himself
authority therein shall be hated. A backbiting tongue
* Mark xii. 88, 40.

-70 butler's sermons.

hath disquieted many ; strong cities hath it pulled
down, and overthrown the houses of great men. The
tongue of a man is his fall ; but if thou love to hear,
thou shalt receive understanding.

UPON COMPASSION. 71

SEEMCXN V.

UPON COMPASSION.

Rom. xii. 15.
Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.

Every man is to be considered in two capacities,
the private and public ; as designed to pursue his own
interest, and likewise to contribute to the good of
others. Whoever will consider may see that, in
general, there is no contrariety between these; but
that from the original constitution of man, and the
circumstances he is placed in, they perfectly coincide,
and mutually carry on each other. But, amongsi,
the great variety of affections or principles of action
in our nature, some in their primary intention and
design seem to belong to the single or private, others
to the public or social capacity. The affections re-
quired in the text are of the latter sort. When we
rejoice in the prosperity of others, and compassionate
their distresses, we as it were substitute them for \
ourselves, their interest for our own; and have the\
same kind of pleasure in their prosperity, and sorrow
in their distress, as we have from reflection upon our
own. Now there is nothing strange or unaccountable

72 butler's sermons.

in our being thus carried out, and affected towards
the interests of others. For, if there bo any appetite,
or any inward principle besides self-love ; why may
there not be an affection to the good of our fellow-
creatures, and delight from that affection's being
gratified, and uneasiness from things going contrary to
it?*

* There being manifestly this appearance of men's substituting
others for themselves, and being carried out and affected towards
them as towards themselves ; some persons, who have a system
which excludes every affection of this sort, have taken a pleasant
method to solve it ; and tell you it is not another you are at all con-
cerned about, but your self only, when you feel the affection called
compassion, i.e. Here is a plain matter of fact, which men cannot
reconcile with the general account they think fit to give of' things :
they therefore, instead of that manifest fact, substitute another, which
is reconcilable to their own scheme. For does not everybody by
compassion mean an affection, the object of which is another in dis-
tress? Instead of this, but designing to have it mistaken for this,
they speak of an affection or passion, the object of which is our-
selves, or danger to ourselves. Hobbes defines pity, imagination, or
fiction of future calamity to ourselves, •proceeding from the sense (he
means sight or knowledge) of another man's calamity. Thus fear and

* Compassion would be the same idea, and a fearful and a compas-
sionate man the same character, which every (me immediately sees
are totally different. Further, to those who give any scope to their
affections, there is no perception or inward feeling more universal
than this : that one who has been merciful and compassionate
throughout the course of his behaviour should himself be treated
with kindness, if he happens to fall into circumstances of distress.

* Is fear, then, or cowardice, so great a recommendation to the favour
of the bulk of mankind? Or is it not plain that mere fearlessness
(and therefore not the contrary) is one of the most popular qualifi-
cations? Tliis shows that mankind are not affected towards com-
passion as fear, but as somewhat totally different.

Nothing would more expose such accounts as these of the affections
which ate favourable and friendly to our fellow-creatures than to
substitute the definitions, which this author, and others who follow

UPON COMPASSION. 73

Of these two, delight in the prosperity of others,
and compassion for their distresses, the last is felt
much more generally than the former. Though men
do not universally rejoice with all whom they see
rejoice, yet, accidental obstacles removed, they na-
turally compassionate all, in some degree, whom they
see in distress ; so far as they have any real percep-
tion or sen ?e of that distress : insomuch that words
expressing this latter, pity, compassion, frequently
occur : whereas we have scarce any single one by
which the former is distinctly expressed. Congratu-
lation indeed answers condolence : but both these

his steps, give of such affections, instead of the words by which
they are commonly expressed. Hobbes, after having laid down,
that pity or compassion is only fear for ourselves, goes on to explain
the reason why we pity our friends in distress more than others.
Now substitute the word definition instead of the word pity in this
place, and the inquiry will be, why we fear our friends, &c, which words
(since he really does not mean why we are afraid of them) make no
question or sentence at all. So that common language, the words
to compassionate, to pity, cannot be accommodated to his account of
compassion. The very joining of the words to pity our friends is a
direct contradiction to his definition of pity : because those words,
so joined, neccessarily express that our friends are the objects of the
passion ; whereas his definition of it asserts that ourselves (or danger
to ourselves) are the only objects of it. He might indeed have
avoided this absurdity, by plainly saying what he is going to account
for ; namely, why the sight of the innocent, or of our friends in dis-
tress, raises greater fear for ourselves than the sight of other persons
in distress. But had he put the thing thus plainly, the fact itself
would have been doubted ; that the sight of our friends in distress
raises in us greater fear for ourselves than the sight of others in distress.
And in the next place it would immediately have occurred to every
one that the fact now mentioned, which at least is doubtful whether,
true or false, was not the same with this fact, which nobody ever

74 butler's sermons.

words are intended to signify certain forms of civility
rather than any inward sensation or feeling. This
difference or inequality is so remarkablo that we
plainly consider compassion as itself an original, dis-
tinct, particular affection in human nature; whereas
to rejoice in the good of others is only a consequence
of the general affection of love and good-will to them.
The reason and account of which matter is this : when
a man has obtained any particular advantage or feli-
city, his end is gained ; ana ho does not in that par.
ticular want the assistance of another: there was
therefore no need of a distinct affection towards that

doubted, that the sight of our friends in distress raises in us greater
compassion than the sight of otliers in distress : every one, I say,
would have seen that these are not the same, but two different in-
quiries ; and, consequently, that fear and compassion are not the
same. Suppose a person to be in real danger, and by some means
or other to have forgot it; any trifling accident, any sound might
alarm him, recall the danger to his remembrance, and renew his fear;
but it is almost too grossly ridiculous (though it is to show an ab-
surdity) to speak of that sound or accident as an object of compas-
sion ; and yet, according to Mr. Hobbes, our greatest friend in dis-
tress is no more to us, no more the object of compassion, or of any
affection in our heart : neither the one nor the other raises any emo-
tion in our mind, but only the thoughts of our liableness to calamity,
and the fear of it ; and both equally do this. It is fit such sort of
accounts of human nature should be shown to be what they really
are, because there is raised upon them a general scheme, which un-
dermines the whole foundation of common justice and honesty. See
Hobbes of Human Nature, c. 9. § 10.

There are often three distinct perceptions or inward feelings upon
sight of persons in distress : real sorrow and concern for the misery
of our fellow-creatures ; some degree of satisfaction from a conscious-
ness of our freedom from that misery ; and as the mind passes on
from one thing to another, it is not unnatural from such an occasion

UPON COMPASSION. 75

felicity of another already obtained ; neither would
such affection directly carry him on to do good to that
person : whereas men in distress want assistance ; and
compassion leads us directly to assist them. The
object of the former is the present felicity of another ;
the object of the latter is the present misery of
another. It is easy to see that the latter wants a
particular affection for its relief, and that the former
does not want one because it does not want assistance.
And upon supposition of a distinct affection in both
cases, the one must rest in the exercise of itself,
having nothing further to gain ; the other does not

to reflect upon our own liableness to the same or other calamities.
The two last frequently accompany the tirst, but it is the first only
which is properly compassion, of which the distressed are the objects,
and which directly carries us with calmness and thought to their
assistance. Any one of these, from various and complicated reasons,
may in particular cases prevail over the other two ; and there are, I
suppose, instances, where the bare sight of distress, without our
feeling any compassion for it, may be the occasion of either or both of
the two latter perceptions. One might add that if there be really
any such thing as the fiction or imagination of danger to ourselves
from sight of the miseries of others, which Hobbes speaks of, and
which he has absurdly mistaken for the whole of compassion ; if
there be anything of this sort common to mankind, distinct from the
reflection of reason, it would be a most remarkable instance of what
was furthest from his thoughts— namely, of a mutual sympathy be-
tween each particular of the species, a fellow-feeling common to man-
kind. It would not indeed be an example of our substituting others
for ourselves, but it would be an example of our substituting ourselves
for others. And as it woidd not be an instance of benevolence, so
neither would it be any instance of self-love: for this phantom of
danger to ourselves, naturally rising to view upon sight of the dis-
tresses of others, woidd be no more an instance of love to ourselves
than the pain of hunger is.

76 butler's sermons.

rest in itself, but carries us ou to assist the dis-
tressed.

But, supposing these affections natural to the mind,
particularly the last; "Has not each man troubles
enough of his own ? must ho indulge an affection
which appropriates to himself those of others? which
leads him to contract the least desirable of all friend-
ships, friendships with the unfortunate ? Must wo
invert the known ride of prudence, and choose to
associate ourselves with the distressed? or, allowing
that wo ought, so far as it is in our power to relieve
them, yet is it not bettor to do this from reason and
duty ? Does not passion and affection of every kind

(perpetually mislead us Y Nay, is not passion and
affection itself a weakness, and what a perfect Jjgiiig
must be entirely freo from ? " Perhaps so, but it is
mankind I am speaking of ; imperfect creatures, and
who naturally and, from the condition we are placed
in, necessarily depend upon each other. With respect
A. to such creatures, it would be found of as bad conse-
■ qaence to eradicate all natural affections as to be
entirely governed by them. This would almost sink
us to the condition of brutes; and that would leave us
without a sufficient principle of action. Reason alone,
whatever any one may wish, is not in reality a
sufficient motive of virtue in such a creaturo as man ;
but this reason joined with those affections which God
lias impressed upon his heart, and when those are

I

UPON COMPASSION. 77

(allowed scope to exercise themselves, but under strict
government and direction of reason, then it is we act 1
suitably to our nature, and to the circumstances Gody
has placed us in. Neither is affection itself at all a
weakness ; nor does it argue defect, any otherwise than
as our senses and appetites do ; they belong to our
condition of nature, and are what we cannot be without.
God Almighty is, to be sure, unmoved by passion or
appetite, unchanged by affection ; but then it is to be
added that He neither sees nor hears nor perceives
things by any senses like ours ; but in a manner
infinitely more perfect. Now, as it is an absurdity
almost too gross to be mentioned, for a man to
endeavour to get rid of his senses, because the
Supreme Being discerns things more perfectly without
them ; it is as real, though not so obvious an absurdity,
to endeavour to eradicate the passions He has given us,
because He is without them. For, since our passions
are as really a part of our constitution as our senses ;
since the former as really belong to our condition of
nature as the latter ; to get rid of either is equally a
violation of and breaking in upon that nature and
constitution He has given us. Both our senses and
our passions are a supply to the imperfection of our •
nature ; thus they show that we are such sort of
creatures as to stand in need of those helps which
higher orders of creatures do not. But it is not the
supply, but the deficiency ; as it is not a remedy, but

\

78 butler's sermons.

a disease, which is the imperfection. However, our
appetites, passions, senses, no way imply disease : nor
indeed do they imply deficiency or imperfection of any
sort ; but only this, that the constitution of nature,
according to which God has made us, is such as to
require them. And it is so far from being true,
that a wise man must entirely suppress compassion,
and all fellow-feeling for others, as a weakness ; and
trust to reason alone to teach and enforce upon him the
practice of the several charities we owe to our kind ;
that, on the contrary, even the bare exercise of such
affections would itself be for the good and happiness
of the world; and the imperfection of the higher
principles of reason and religion in man, the little
influence they have upon our practice, and the strength
and prevalency of contrary ones, plainly require these
affections to be a restraint upon these latter, and a
supply to the deficiencies of the former.

First, The very exercise itself of these affections in
a just and reasonable manner and degree would upon
the whole increase the satisfactions and lessen the
miseries of life.

It is the tendency and business of virtue and
religion to procure, as much as may be, universal
good- will, trust, and friendship amongst mankind. If
this could be brought to obtain ; and each man enjoyed
the happiness of others, as every one does that of a
friend ; and looked upon the success and prosperity of

UPON COMPASSION. 79

his neighbour as every one does upon that of his
children and family ; it is too manifest to be insisted
upon how much the enjoyments of life would be
increased. There would be so much happiness intro-
duced into the world, without any deduction or incon-
venience from it, in proportion as the precept of
rejoicing with those who rejoice was universally obeyed.
Our Saviour has owned this good affection as belonging
to our nature in the parable of the lost sheep, and does
not think it to the disadvantage of a perfect state to
represent its happiness as capable of increase from
reflection upon that of others.

But since in such a creature as man, compassion
or sorrow for the distress of others seems so far
necessarily connected with joy in their prosperity, as
that whoever rejoices in one must unavoidably com-
passionate the other; there cannot be that delight or
satisfaction, which appears to be so considerable, with-
out the inconveniences, whatever they are, of com-
passion.

However, without considering this connection, there
is no doubt but that more good than evil, more delight
than sorrow, arises from compassion itself ; there being
so many things which balance the sorrow of it. There
is first the relief which the distressed feel from this
affection in others towards them. There is likewise
the additional misery which they would feel from the
reflection that no one commiserated their case. It is

80 butler's sermons.

indeed true that any disposition, prevailing beyond a
certain degree, becomes somewhat wrong ; and we
have ways of speaking, which, though they do not
directly express that excess, yet always lead our
thoughts to it, and give us the notion of it. Thus,
when mention is made of delight in being pitied,
this always conveys to our mind the notion of some-
what which is really a weakness. The manner of
speaking, I say, implies a certain weakness and feeble-
ness of mind, which is and ought to be disapproved.
But men of the greatest fortitude would in distress
feel uneasiness from knowing that no person in the
world had any sort of compassion or real concern for
them ; and in some cases, especially when the temper
is enfeebled by sickness, or any long and great distress,
doubtless, would feel a kind of relief even from the
helpless goodwill and ineffectual assistances of those
about them. Over against the sorrow of compassion
is likewise to be set a peculiar calm kind of satis-
faction, which accompanies it, unless in cases where
the distress of another is by some means so brought
home to ourselves as to become in a manner our own ;
or when from weakness of mind the affection rises too
high, which ought to be corrected. This tranquillity,
or calm satisfaction, proceeds partly from conscious-
ness of a right affection and temper of mind, and
partly from a sense of our own freedom from the
misery we compassionate. This last may possibly

UPON COMPASSION. 81

appear to some at first sight faulty; but it really is
not so. It is the same Avith that positive enjoyment,
which sudden ease from pain for the present affords,
arising from a real sense of misery, joined with a sense
of our freedom from it ; which in all cases must afford
some degree of satisfaction.

To these things must be added the observation
which respects both the affections we are considering ;
that they who have got over all fellow-feeling for
others have withal contracted a certain callousness of
heart, which renders them insensible to most other
satisfactions but those of the grossest kind.

Secondly, Without the exercise of these affections
men would certainly be much more wanting in the
offices of charity they owe to each other, and likewise
more cruel and injurious than they are at present.

The private interest of the individual would not. be
sufficiently provided for by reasonable and cool self-
love alone; therefore the appetites and passions are
placed within as a guard and further security, with-
out which it would not be taken due care of. It is
manifest our life would be neglected were it not for
the calls of hunger and thirst and weariness ; notwith-
standing that without them reason would assure us
that the recruits of food and sleep are the necessary
means of our preservation. It is therefore absurd To
imagine that, without affection, the same reason alone
would be more effectual to engage us to perform the

82 butler's sermons.

duties we owe to our fellow-creatures. One of this
make would be as defective, as much wanting, con-
sidered with respect to society, as one of the former
make would be defective, or wanting, considered as
an individual, or in his private capacity. Is it pos-
sible any can in earnest think that a public spirit, i.e.,
a settled reasonable principle of benevolence to man-
kind, is so prevalent and strong in the species as that
we may venture to throw off the under affections,
which are its assistants, carry it forward and mark
out particular courses for it ; family, friends, neigh-
bourhood, the distressed, our country ? The common
joys and the common sorrows, which belong to these
relations and circumstances, are as plainly useful to
society as the pain and pleasure belonging to hunger,
thirst, and weariness are of service to the individual.
In defect of that higher principle of reason, com-
passion is often the only way by which the indigent
can have access to us : and therefore, to eradicate
this, though it is not indeed formally to deny them
that assistance which is their due ; yet it is to cut
them off from that which is too frequently their only
way of obtaining it. And as for those who have
shut up this door against the complaints of the
miserable, and conquered this affection in themselves ;
even these persons will be under great restraints
from the same affection in others. Thus a man who
has himself no sense of injustice, cruelty, oppression,

UPON COMPASSION. 83

will be kept from running the utmost lengths of
wickedness by fear of that detestation, and even
resentment of inhumanity, in many particular in-
stances of it, which compassion for the object towards
whom such inhumanity is exercised, excites in the
bulk of mankind. And this is frequently the chief
danger and the chief restraint which tyrants and the
great oppressors of the world feel.

In general, experience will show that, as want of
natural appetite to food supposes and proceeds from
some bodily disease ; so the apathy the Stoics talk of
as much supposes, or is accompanied with, somewhat
amiss in the moral character, in that which is tho
health of the mind. Those who formerly aimed at
this upon the foot of philosophy appear to have had
better success in eradicating the affections of tender-"
ness and compassion than they had with the passions
of envy, pride, and resentment : these latter, at best,
were but concealed, and that imperfectly too. How
far this observation may be extended to such as
endeavour to suppress the natural impulses of their
affections, in order to form themselves for business'
and the world, I shall not determine. But there does
not appear any capacity or relation to be named,
in which men ought to be entirely deaf to the calls
of affection, unless the judicial one is to be excepted.

And as to those who are commonly called the men
of pleasure, it is manifest that the reason they set up

84 butler's sermons.

for hardness of heart is to avoid being interrupted in
their course by the ruin and misery they are the
authors of ; neither are persons of this character
always the most free from the impotencies of envy
and resentment. What may men at last bring them-
selves to, by suppressing their passions and affections
of one kind, and leaving those of tho other in their
full strength ? But surely it might be expected that
persons who make pleasure their study and their
business, if they understood what they profess, would
reflect, how many of the entertainments of life, how
many of those kind of amusements which seem pecu-
liarly to belong to men of leisure and education
they became insensible to by this acquired hardness
of heart.

I shall close these reflections with barely mention-
ing the behaviour of that divine Person, who was
the example of all perfection in human nature, as
represented in the Gospels mourning, and even, in
a literal sense, weeping over the distresses of His
creatures.

The observation already made, that, of the two
affections mentioned in the text, the latter exerts
itself much more than the former; that, from the
original constitution of human nature, we much more
generally and sensibly compassionate the distressed,
than rejoice with tho prosperous, requires to be par-
ticularly considered. This observation, therefore,

UPON COMPASSION. 85

with, the reflections which arise out of it, and which
it leads our thoughts to, shall be the subject of another
discourse.

For the conclusion of this, let me just take notice
of the danger of over-great refinements ; of going
beside or beyond the plain, obvious, first appearances
of things, upon the subject of morals and religion.
The least observation will show how little the gener-_i
alitv_ of men are capable of speculations. There- I
fore morality and religion must be somewhat plain
and easy to bo understood : it must appeal to what
we call plain common sense, as distinguished from
superior capacity and improvement; because it ap-
peals to mankind. Persons of superior capacity and
improvement have often fallen into errors which no
)Cone of mere common understanding could. Is it
possible that one of this latter character could ever
of himself have thought that there was absolutely
no such thing in mankind as affection to the good
of others ? suppose of parents to their children ; or
that what he felt upon seeing a friend in distress
was only fear for himself ; or, upon supposition of
the affections of kindness and compassion, that it
was the business of wisdom and virtue to set him
about extirpating them as fast as he coidd? And
yet each of these manifest contradictions to nature
has been laid down by men of speculation as a
discovery in moral philosophy ; which they, it seems,

86 butler's sermons.

have found out through all the specious appearances
to the contrary. This reflection may be extended
further. The extravagances of enthusiasm and
superstition do not at all lie in the road of common
sense; and therefore, so far as they are original
mistakes, must be owing to going beside or beyond
it. Now, since inquiry and examination can relate
only to things so obscure and uncertain as to stand
in need of it, and to persons who are capable of it;
the proper advice to be given to plain honest men, to
secure them from the extremes both of superstition
and irreligion, is that of the Son of Sirach : In every
good work trust thy own soul ; for this is the keeping
of the commandment*

* Ecclus. xxxii. 28.

UPON COMPASSION. 87

SERMON VI.

UPON COMPASSION.

PEE ACHED THE FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT.

Rom. xii. 15.

Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them tliat weep.

There is a much more exact correspondence between
the natural and moral world than we are apt to take
notice of. The inward frame of man does in a pecu-
liar manner answer to tho external condition and cir-
cumstances of life in which he is placed. This is a
particular instance of that general observation of the
Son of Sirach : All things are double one against
another, and God hath made nothing imperfect. *
The several passions and affections in the heart of
man, compared with the circumstances of life in
which he is placed, afford, to such as will attend
to them, as certain instances of final causes, as any
whatever, which are more commonly alleged for
such : since those affections lead him to a certain
determinate course of action suitable to those cir-
cumstances; as (for instance) compassion to relieve
the distressed. And as all observations of final

* Ecclus. xlii. 24.

OS BUTLER S SERMONS.

causes, drawn from the principles of action in the
heart of man, compared with the condition he is
placed in, serve all the good uses which instances
of final causes in the material world about us do ;
,'ind both these are equally proofs of wisdom and de-
sign in the Author of nature : so the former serve
to further good purposes ; they show us what course
of life we arc made for, what is our duty, and in a
peculiar manner enforce upon us the practice of it.

Suppose Ave are capable of happiness and of misery
in degrees equally intense and extreme, yet, we aro
capable of the latter for a mueh longer time, beyond
all comparison. We see men in the tortures of pain
for hours, days, and, excepting the short suspensions
of sleep, for months together, without intermission,
to which no enjoyments of life do, in degree and
continuance, bear any sort of proportion. And such
is our make and that of the world about us that
any thing may become the instrument of pain and
sorrow to us. Thus almost any one man is capable of
doing mischief to any other, though he may not be
capable of doing liiin good ; and if he be capable of
doing him some good, he is capable of doing him more
evil. And it is, in numberless cases, much more in
our power to lessen the miseries of others than to pro-
mote their positive happiness, any otherwise than as the
former often includes the latter ; ease from misery oc-
casioning for some time the greatest positive enjoyment.

UPON COMPASSION.

This institution of nature, namely, that it is so
much more iu our powor to occasion and likewise to
lessen misery than to promote positive happiness,
plainly required a particular affection to hinder us
from abusing, and to incline us to make a right use of
the former powers, i.e., the powers both to occasion
and to lessen misery ; over and above what was neces-
sary to induce us to make a right use of the latter
power, that of promoting positive happiness. The
power we have over the misery of our fellow-creatures,
to occasion or lessen it, being a more important trust
than the power we have of promoting their positive
happiness; the former requires and has a further,
an additional, security and guard against its being
violated, beyond and over and above what the latter
has. The social nature of man, and general good-
will to his species, equally prevent him from doing
evil, incline him to relieve the distressed, and to pro- \
mote the positive happiness of his fellow-creatures ; j
but compassion only restrains from the first, and 1
carries him to the second ; it hath nothing to do with
the third.

"The final causes, then, of compassion are to prevent
and to relieve misery.

As to the former : this affection may plainly be a
restraint upon resentment, envy, unreasonable self-
love; that is, upon all the principles from which
men do evil to one another. Let us instance only

CTJ <tA-^-eJ \f jLo

90 butler's sermons.

in resentment. It seldom happens, in regulated
societies, that men have an enemy so entirely in
their power as to ho able to satiate their resent-
ment with safety. But if wo were to put this case,
it is plainly supposable that a person might bring
his enemy into such a condition, as from being the
object of anger and rage, to become an object of com-
passion, even to himself, though the most malicious
man in the world ; and in this case compassion would
stop him, if he could stop with safety, from pursuing
his revenge any further. But since nature has placed
within us more powerful restraints to prevent mis-
chief, and since the final cause of compassion is much
more to relieve misery, let us go on to the considera-
tion of it in this view.
As this world was not intended to be a state of any

• great satisfaction or high enjoyment, so neither was
it intended to be a mere scene of unhappiness and

* sorrow. Mitigations and reliefs are provided by
the merciful Author of nature for most of the afflic-
tions in human life. There is kind provision made
even against our frailties : as we are so constituted
that time abundantly abates our sorrows, and begets
in us that resignment of temper, which ought to have
been produced by a better cause ; a due sense of the
authority of God, and our state of dependence. This
holds in respect too far the greatest part of the evils
of life ; I suppose, in some degree, as to pain and

UPON COMPASSION. 91

sickness. Now this part of the constitution or make
of man, considered as some relief to misery, and not as
provision for positive happiness, is, if I may so speak,
an instance of nature's compassion for us ; and every
natural remedy or relief to misery may be considered
in the same view.

But since in many cases it is very much in our
power to alleviate the miseries of each other; and
benevolence, though natural in man to man, yet is in
a very low degree kept down by interest and competi-
tions ; and men, for the most part, are so engaged in
the business and pleasures of the world, as to overlook
and turn away from objects of misery ; which are
plainly considered as interruptions to them in their
way, as intruders upon their business, their gaiety, and
mirth : compassion is an advocate within us in their
behalf, to gain the unhappy admittance and access, to
make their case attended to. If it sometimes serves a
contrary purpose, and makes men industriously turn
away from the miserable, these are only instances of
abuse and perversion : for the end, for which the
affection was given us, most certainly is not to make
us avoid, but to make us attend to, the objects of it.
And if men would only resolve to allow thus much to
it : let it bring before their view, the view of their
mind, the miseries of their fellow-creatures ; let it
gain for them that their case be considered ; I am per-
suaded it would not fail of gaining more, and that

'J2 butler's sermons.

very few real objects of charity would pass unrelieved.
Pain and sorrow and misery have a rig-lit to our assis-
tance : compassion puts us in mind of the debt, and
that we owe it to ourselves as well as to the distressed.
For, to endeavour to get rid of the sorrow of compas-
sion by turning from the wretched, when yet it is in
our power to relieve them, is as unnatural as to en-
deavour to get rid of the pain of hunger by keeping
from the sight of food. That we can do one with
greater success than we can the other is no proof
that one is less a violation of nature than the other.
Compassion is a call, a demand of nature, to relievo
Ihe unhappy as hunger is a natural call for food.
This affection plainly gives the objects of it an addi-
tional claim to relief and mercy, over and above what
our fellow-creatures in common have to our goodwill.
Liberality and bounty are exceedingly commendable ;
and a particular distinction in such a world as this,
where men set themselves to contract their heart, and
close it to all interests but their own. It is by no
means to be opposed to mercy, but always accompanies
it: the distinction between them is only that the
former leads our thoughts to a more promiscuous and
undistinguished distribution of favours ; to those Avho
are not, as well as those who are, necessitous ; whereas
ihe object of compassion is misery. But in the com-
parison, and where there is not a possibility of both,
mercy is to have the preference: the affection of

UPON COMPASSION. 93

compassion manifestly leads us to this preference. Thus,
to relieve the indigent and distressed, to single out the
unhappy, from whom can be expected no returns
either of present entertainment or future service, for
the objects of our favours ; to esteem a man's being
friendless as a recommendation; dejection, and in-
capacity of struggling through the world, as a motive
for assisting him ; in a word, to consider these circum-
stances of disadvantage, which are usually thought a
sufficient reason for neglect and overlooking a per-
son, as a motive for helping him forward : this is the
course of benevolence which compassion marks out and
directs us to : this is that humanity which is so pecu-
liarly becoming our nature and circumstances in this
world.

To these considerations, drawn from the nature of
man, must be added the reason of the thing itself we
are recommending, which accords to and shows the
same. For since it is so much more in our power to
lessen the misery of our fellow-creatures than to
promote their positive happiness : in cases where
there is an inconsistency, we shall be likely to do
much more good by setting ourselves to mitigate the
former than by endeavouring to promote the latter.
Let the competition be between the poor and the rich.
It is easy, you will say, to see which will have the
preference. True ; but the question is, which ought to
to have the preference? What proportion is there

94 butler's sermons.

between the happiness produced by doing a favour to
the indigent, and that produced by doing the same
favour to one in easy circumstances ? It is manifest
that the addition of a very large estate to one who
before had an affluence, will in many instances yield
him less new enjoyment or satisfaction than an
ordinary charity would yield to a necessitous person.
So that it is not only true that our nature, i.e., the
voice of God within us, carries us to the exercise of
charity and benevolence in the way of compassion or
mercy, preferably to any other way; but we also
manifestly discern much more good done by the
former ; or, if you will allow me the expressions, more
misery annihilated and happiness created. If charity
and benevolence, and endeavouring to do good to our
fellow-creatures, be anything, this observation deserves
to be most seriously considered by all who have to
bestow. And it holds with great exactness, when
applied to the several degrees of greater and less
indigency throughout the various ranks in human life :
the happiness or good produced not being in proportion
to what is bestowed, but in proportion to this joined
with the need there was of it.

It may perhaps be expected that upon this subject
notice should be taken of occasions, circumstances, and
characters which seem at once to call forth affections
of different sorts. Thus vice may be thought the object
both of pity and indignation : folly, of pity and of

UPON COMPASSION. 95

laughter. How far this is strictly true, I shall not
inquire; but only observe upon the appearance, how
much more humane it is to yield and give scope to
affections, which are most directly in favour of, and
friendly towards, our fellow-creatures ; and that there
is plainly much less danger of being led wrong by
these than by the other.

But, notwithstanding all that has been said in recom-
mendation of compassion, that it is most amiable, most
becoming human nature, and most useful to the world ;
yet it must be owned that every affection, as distinct
from a principle of reason, may rise too high, and be
beyond its just proportion. And by means of this one
carried too far, a man throughout his life is subject to
much more uneasiness than belongs to his share ; and
in particular instances, it may be in such a degree as
to incapacitate him from assisting the very person who
is the object of it. But as there are some who upon
principle set up for suppressing this affection itself as
weakness, there is also I know not what of fashion on
this side; and, by some means or other, the whole
world almost is run into the extremes of insensibility
towards the distresses of their fellow-creatures: so
that general rules and exhortations must always be on
the other side.

And now to go on to the uses we should make of the
foregoing reflections, the further ones they lead to, and
the general temper they have a tendency to beget in us.

Ofl BUTLER'S SERMONS.

These being that distinct affection implanted in tho
nature of man, tending to lessen tho miseries of life,
that particular provision made for abating its sorrows,
more than for increasing its positive happiness, as
before explained ; this may suggest to us what should
be our general aim respecting ourselves, in our passage
through this world: namely, to endeavour chiefly to
escape misery, keep free from uneasiness, pain, and
sorrow, or to get relief and mitigation of them; to
propose to ourselves peace and tranquillity of mind,
rather than pursue after high enjoyments. This is
what the constitution of nature before explained marks
out as the course we should follow, and the end we
should aim at. To make pleasure and mirth and jollity
our business, aiid be constantly hurrying about aftoi
some gay amusement, some new gratification of sense
or appetite, to those who will consider the nature of
man and our condition in this world, will appear the
most romantic scheme of life that ever entered into
thought. And yet how many are thero who go on in
this course, without learning better from the daily,
the hourly disappointments, listlessness, and satiety
which accompany this fashionable method of wasting
away their days !

The subject we have been insisting upon would lead
us into tho same kind of reflections by a different
connection. The miseries of life brought home to
ourselves by compassion, viewed through this affection

UPON COMPASSION. 97

considered as the sense by which they are perceived,
would beget in us that moderation, humility, and sober-
ness of mind which has been now recommended ; and
which peculiarly belongs to a season of recollection, the
only purpose of which is to bring us to a just sense
of things, to recover us out of that f orgetf ulness of our-
selves, and our true state, which it is manifest far the
greatest part of men pass their whole life in. Upon
this account Solomon says that it is better to go to the
house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting ;
i.e., it is more to a man's advantage to turn his eyes
towards objects of distress, to recall sometimes to his
remembrance the occasions of sorrow, than to pass
all his days in thoughtless mirth and gaiety. And he
represents the wise as choosirg to frequent the former
of these places ; to be sure not for his own sake, but
because by the sadness of the countenance, the heart is
made b,t'er. Everyone observes how temperate and
reasonable men are when humbled and brought low
by afflictions in comparison of what they are in high
prosperity. By this voluntary resort to the house of
mourning, which is here recommended, we might learn
all those useful instructions which calamities teach
without undergoing them ourselves ; and grow wiser
and better at a more easy rate than men commonly do.
The objects themselves, which in that place of sorrow
lie before our view, naturally give us a seriousness and
attention, check that wantonness which is the growth
d— 93

98 butler's sermons.

of prosperity and ease, and lead us to reflect upon the
deficiencies of human life itself ; that every man at his
best estate is altogether vanity. This would correct
the florid and gaudy prospects and expectations which
we are too apt to indulge, teach us to lower our notions
of happiness and enjoyment, bring them down to the
reality of things, to what i? attainable, to what the
frailty of our condition will admit of, which, for any
continuance, is only tranquillity, ease, and moderate
satisfactions. Thus we might at once become proof
against the temptations with which the whole world
almost is carried away ; since it is plain that not only
what is called a life of pleasure, but also vicious pur-
suits in general, aim at somewhat besides and beyond
these moderate satisfactions.

.'. nd as to that obstinacy and wilfulness, which
renders men so insensible to the motives of religion ;
this right sense of ourselves and of the world about us
would bend the stubborn mind, soften the heart, and
make it more apt to receive impression; and this is
the proper temper in which to call our ways to remem-
brance, to review and set home upon ourselves the mis-
carriages of our past life. In such a compliant state
of mind, reason and conscience will have a fair hear-
ing ; which is the preparation for, or rather the begin-
ning of, that repentance, the outward show of which
we all put on at this season.

Lastly, The various miseries of life which lie before

UPON COMPASSION. 99

us wherever we turn our eyes, the frailty of lliis mortal
state we are passing through, may put us in mind that
the present world is not our home ; that we are merely
strangers and travellers in it, as all our fathers were.
It is therefore to be considered as a foreign country ;
in which our poverty and wants, and the insufficient
supplies of them, were designed to turn our views to
that higher and better state we are heirs to : a state
where will be no follies to be overlooked, no miseries
to be pitied, no wants to be relieved ; where the affec-
tion we have been now treating of will happily be lost,
as there will be no objects to exercise it upon : for God
shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there
shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying ;
neither shall there be any more pain ; for the former
things are passed away.

100 butler's sermons

SERMON VII.

UPON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM.

PREACHED THE SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

Numbers xxiii. 10.
Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.

These words, taken alone, and without respect to him
who spoke them, lead our thoughts immediately to the
different ends of good and bad men. For though the
comparison is not expressed, yet it is manifestly implied;
as is also the preference of one of these characters to
the other in that last circumstance, death. And, since
dying the death of the righteous or of the wicked
necessarily implies men's being righteous or wicked ;
i.e., having lived righteously or wickedly ; a compari-
son of them in their lives also might come into con-
sideration, from such a single view of the words them-
selves. But my present design is to consider them
with a particular reference or respect to him who
spoke them ; which reference, if you please to attend,
you will see. And if what shall be offered to your
consideration at this time be thought a discourse upon
the whole history of this man, rather than upon the par-
ticular words I have read, this is of no consequence : it

UPON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 101

is sufficient if it afford reflection of use and service to
ourselves.

But, in order to avoid cavils respecting this remark-
able relation in Scripture, either that part of it which
you have heard in the first lesson for the day, or any
other ; let me just observe that as this is not a place
for answering them, so they no way affect the following
discourse ; since the character there given is plainly a
real one in life, and such as there are parallels to.

The occasion of Balaam's coining out of his own
country into the land of Moab, where he pronounced
this solemn prayer or wish, he himself relates in the
first parable or prophetic speech, of which it is the
conclusion. In which is a custom referred to, proper
to be taken notice cf : that of devoting enemies to
destruction before the entrance upon a war with
them. This custom appears to have prevailed over
a great part of the world ; for we find it amongst the
most distant nations. The Romans had public officers,
to whom it belonged as a stated part of their office.
But there was somewhat more particular in the case
now before us : Balaam being looked upon as an extra-
ordinary person, whose blessing or curse was thought
to be always effectual.

In order to engage the reader's attention to this
passnge, the sacred historian has enumerated the
preparatory circumstances, which are these. Balaam
requires the king of Moab to build him seven altars,

102 BUTLER'S SERMONS.

and to prepare hiin tlio same number of oxen and of
rams. The sacrifice being over, he retires alone to a
solitude sacred to these occasions, there to wait the
Divine inspiration or answer, for which the foregoing
rites were the preparation. And God met Balaam,
and put a word in his mouth ; * upon receiving
which, he returns back to the altars, where was the
king, who had all this while attended the sacrifice, as
appointed; he and all the princes of Moab standing,
big with expectation of the Prophet's reply. And he
took up his parable, and said, Balalc the Icing of Moab
hath brought me from Aram, out of the mountains of
the east, saying, Come, curse me Jacob, and come,
defy Israel. How shall I curse, whom God hath not
cursed ? Or how shall I defy, whom the Lord hath
not defied ? For from the top of the roclcs I see
him, and from the hills I behold him : lo, the people
shall dwell alone, and .shall not be reckoned among
the nations. Who can count the dust of Jacob, and
the number of the fourth pari of Israel ? Let me die the
death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.f
It is necessary, as you will see in the progress of
this discourse, particularly to observe what he under-
stood by righteous. And he himself is introduced in
the book of Micali J explaining it ; if by righteous is
meant good, as to be sure it is. 0 my people, re-
member now what Balak king of Moab consulted, and
* Ver. 4, 5. t Ver. 6. i Micah vi.

UPON THE CHARACTER OP BATAAM. 103

what Balaam the son of Beor answered him from
Shittim unto Gilgal. From the mention of Shittim it
is manifest that it is this very story which is here re-
ferred to, though another part of it, the account of
which is not now extant ; as there are many quotations
in Scripture out of books which are not come down to
us. Remember what Balaam answered, that ye may
know the righteousness of the Lord ; i.e., the righteous-
ness which God will accept. Balak demands, Where-
with shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself
before the high God ? Shall L come before him with
burnt-offerings, with calves of a year old? Will the
Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten
thousands of rivers of oil ? Shall I give my first-born
for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin
of my soul ? Balaam answers him, He hath showed
thee, 0 man, what is good : and what doth the Lord
require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and \
to walk humbly with thy God ? Hero is a good man
expressly characterised, as distinct from a dishonest
and a superstitious man. ]STo words can more strongly
exclude dishonesty and falseness of heart than doing
justice and loving mercy ; and both these, as well as
walking humbly with God, are put in opposition to
those ceremonial methods of recommendation, which
Balak hoped might have served the turn. From hence
appears what he meant by the righteous, whose death
he desires to die.

104 butler's sermons.

Whether it was his own character shall now be in-
quired ; and in order to determine it, we must take a
view of his whole behaviour upon this occasion. When
the elders of Moab came to him, though he appears to
have been much allured with the rewards offered, yet
he had such regard to the authority of God as to keep
the messengers in suspense until he had consulted His
will. And God said to him,, Thou shalt not go with
them ; thou shalt not curse the people, for they are
blessed* Upon this he dismisses the ambassadors,
with an absolute refusal of accompanying them back to
their king. Thus far his regards to his duty prevailed,
neither does there anything appear as yet amiss in his
conduct. His answer being reported to the king of
Moab, a more honourable embassy is immediately de-
spatched, and greater rewards proposed. Then the
iniquity of his heart began to disclose itself. A
thorough honest man would without hesitation have
repeated his former answer, that he could not be guilty
of so infamous a prostitution of the sacred character
with which he was invested, as in the name of a prophet
to curse those whom he knew to be blessed. But
instead of this, which was the only honest part in these
circumstances that lay before him, he desires the
princes of Moab to tarry that night with him also ; and
for the sake of the reward deliberates, whether by some
means or other lie might not be able to obtain leave to

* Chap. xxii. 12.

UPON THE CHAEACTEE OF BALAAM. 105

curse Israel , to do that, winch had been before revealed
to tam to be contrary to the will of God, which yet he
resolves not to do without that permission. Upon
which, as when this nation afterward, rejected God
from reigning over them, He gave them a ting in His
auger; m tIle same mj> as ^^ ^ ^

of the narration, He gives Balaam the permission he
desired : for tins is the most natural sense of the words
Arnvmg in the territories of Moab, and being received
witt particular distinction by the king, and he repeat
mg m person .the promise of the rewards he had before
made to Inm by his ambassadors, he seeks, the text savs
by sacrifices and enchantments (what these were is not
to our purpose), to obtain leave of God to curse the
people; keeping still his resolution, not to do it with!
out that permission, which not being able to obtain
he had suck regard to the command of God as to keep
tins resolution to the last. The supposition of his bein!
under a supernatural restraint is a mere fiction of Philo"
he is pla.nly represented to be under no other force or
restramt than the fear of God. However, he goes on
persevenngin that endeavour, after he had declared
hat God had not beheld' inanity in Jacob, neither had
he seenpenersenessin Israel;* i.e., they were apeople
ef virtue and piety, s„ f„ „ not to ^ ^J^
by them equity that curse which he was soliciting
leave to pronounce upon them. So that the state of

* Ver. 21.

106 butler's sermons.

Balaam's mind was this : lie wanted to do what he
knew to be very wicked, and contrary to the express
command of God; he had inward checks and restraints
which he could not entirely got over ; he therefore casts
about for ways to reconcile this wickedness with his
duty. How great a paradox soever this may appear,
as it is indeed a contradiction in terms, it is the very
account which the Scripture gives us of him.

But there is a more surprising piece of iniquity yet
behind. Not daring in his religious character, as a
prophet, to assist the king of Moab, he considers
whether there might not be found some other means of
assisting him against that very people, whom he him-
self by the fear of God was restrained from cursing in
words. One would not think it possible that the
weakness, even of religious self-deceit in its utmost
excess, could have so poor a distinction, so fond an eva-
sion, to serve itself of. But so it was ; and ho could
think of no other method than to betray the children
of Israel to provoke His wrath, who was their only
strength and defence. The temptation which he
pitched upon was that concerning which Solomon after-
wards observed, that it had cast down many wounded ;
yea, many strong men had been slain by it : and of
which he himself was a sad example, when Ids wives
turned away his heart after other gods. This suc-
ceeded : the people sin against God ; and thus the
Prophet's counsel brought on that destruction which

UPON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 107

lie could by no means be prevailed upon to assist with
the religious eeremony of execration, which the king of
Moab thought would itself have affected it. Their
crime and punishment are related in Deuteronomy*
and Numbcrs.f And from the relation repeated in
Numbers,]; it appears, that Balaam was the contriver
of the whole matter. It is also ascribed to him in the
Revelation, § where he is said to have taught Balak to
cast a stumbling -block before the children of Israel.

This was the man, this Balaam, I say, was the man,
who desired to die the death of the righteous, and that
his last end might be like his; and this was the state
of his mind when he pronounced these words.

So that the object we have now before us is ihe most
astonishing in the world : a very wicked man, under a
deep sense of God and religi m, persisting still in his
wickedness, and preferring the wages of unrighteous-
ness, even when he had before him a lively view of
death, and that approaching period of his days, which
should deprive him of all those advantages for which
he was prostituting himself ; and likewise a prospect,
whether certain or uncertain, of a future state of retri-
bution ; all this joined with an explicit ardent wish
that, when he was to leave this world, he might be in
the condition of a righteous man. Good God ! what
inconsistency, what perplexity is here! With what

* Chap. iv. t Chap. xxv.

t Chap. xxxi. § Chap. ii.

108 butler's sermons.

different views of things, with what contradictory prin-
ciples of action, mnst such a mind be torn and dis-
tracted ! It was not unthinking carelessness, by which
he ran on headlong in vice and folly, without ever
making a stand to ask himself what he was doing : no ;
he acted upon the cool motives of interest and advan-
tage. Neither was he totally hard and callous to im-
pressions of religion, what we call abandoned ; for he
absolutely denied to curse Israel. When reason
assumes her place, when convinced of his duty, when
he owns and feels, and is actually under the influence
of the divine authority ; whilst he is carrying on his
views to the grave, the end of all temporal greatness ;
under this sense of things, with the better character
and more desirable state present— full before him— in
his thoughts, in his wishes, voluntarily to choose the
worse_wliat fatality is here ! Or how otherwise can
such a character be explained ? And yet, strange as it
may appear, it is not altogether an uncommon one : nay,
with some small alterations, and put a little lower, it
is applicable to a very considerable part of the world.
For if the reasonable choice be seen and acknowledged,
and yet men make the unreasonable one, is not this the
same contradiction; that very inconsistency, which
appeared so unaccountable ?

To give some little opening to such characters and
behaviour, it is to be observed in general that there is
no account to be given in the way of reason, of men's

TJPON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 109

so strong attachments to the present world : our hopes
and fears and pursuits are in degrees beyond all pro-
portion to the known value of the things they respect.
This may be said without taking into consideration
religion and a future state ; and when these are
considered, the disproportion is infinitely heightened.
Now when men go against their reason, and contradict
a more important interest at a distance, for one
nearer, though of less consideration; if this be the
whole of the case, all that can be said is, that strong
passions, some kind of brute force within, prevails over
the principle of rationality. However, if this be with(
a clear, full, and distinct view of the truth of things,
then it is doing the utmost violence to themselves,
acting in the most palpable contradiction to their very J
nature. But if there be any such thing in mankind as
putting half -deceits upon themselves; which there
plainly is, either by avoiding reflection, or (if they do
reflect) by religious equivocation, subterfuges, and
palliating matters to themselves ; by these means
conscience may be laid asleep, and they may go on in a
course of wickedness with less disturbance. All the
various turns, doubles, and intricacies in a dishonest,
heart cannot be unfolded or laid open ; but that there
is somewhat of that kind is manifest, be it to be called)
self-deceit, or by any other name. Balaam had before
his eyes the authority of God, absolutely forbidding
him what he, for the sake of a reward, had the strongest

HO butler's sermons.

inclination to : he was likewise in a state of mind
sober enough to consider death and his last end : by
these considerations he was restrained, first from going
to the king of Moab, and after he did go, from
cursing Israel. But notwithstanding this, there was
great wickedness in his heart. He could not forego the
rewards of unrighteousness : he therefore first seeks
for indulgences, and when these could not be obtained,
he sins against the whole meaning, end, and design of
the prohibition, which no consideration in the world
could prevail with him to go against the letter of.
And surely that impious counsel he gave to Balak
against the children of Israel was, considered in
itself, a greater piece of wickedness than if he had
cursed them in words.

If it be inquired what his situation, his hopes, and
fears were, in respect to this his wish ; the answer
must be, that consciousness of the wickedness of his
heart must necessarily have destroyed all settled hopes
of dying the death of the righteous : he could have no
calm satisfaction in this view of his last end : yet, on
the other hand, it is possible that those partial regards
to his duty, now mention: d, might keep him from
perfect despair.

Upon the whole it is manifest that Balaam had the
most just and true notions of God and religion ; as
appears, partly from the original story itself, and more
plainly from the passage in Micah ; where he explains

UPON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM. Ill

religion to consist in real virtue and real piety, ex-
pressly distinguished from superstition, and in terms
which most strongly exclude dishonesty and falseness
of heart. Yet you see his behaviour : he seeks indul-
gences for plain wickedness, which not being able to
obtain he glosses over that same wickedness, dresses
it up in a new form, in order to make it pass off more
easily with himself. That is, he deliberately contrives '
to deceive and impose upon himself in a matter which ;
he knew to be of the utmost importance.

To bring these observations home to ourselves : it
is too evident that many persons allow themselves in
very unjustifiable courses who yet make great pre-
tences to religion ; not to deceive the world, none can
be so weak as to think this will pass in oar age ; but
from principles, hopes, and fears, respecting God and
a future state ; and go on thus with a sort of tran-
quillity and quiet of mind. This cannot be upon a
thorough consideration, and full resolution, that the
pleasures and advantages they propose ar3 to be
pursued at all hazards, against reason, against the law
of God, and though everlasting destruction is to be
the consequence. This would be doing too great
violence upon themselves. No, they are for making
a composition with the Almighty. These of His
commands they will obey ; but as to others — why, they
will make all the atonements in their power ; the
ambitious, the covetous, the dissolute man, each in a

112 butler's sermons.

way which shall not contradict his respective pursuit.
Indulgences before, which was Balaam's first attempt,
though he was not so successful in it as to deceive
himself, or atonements afterwards, are all the same.
And here, perhaps, come in faint hopes that they may,
and half-resolves that they will, one time or other,
make a change.

Besides these there are also persons, who, from a
more just way of considering things, see the infinite
absurdity of this, of substituting sacrifice instead of
obedience ; there are persons far enough from super-
stition, and not without some real sense of God and
religion upon their minds ; who yet are guilty of most
unjustifiable practices, and go on with great coolness
and command over themselves. The same dishonesty
and unsoundness of heart discovers itself in these
another way. In_all_ common ordinary cases- -we- see
intuitively at first view what is our duty, what is the
honest part. This is the ground of the observation,
that the first thought is often the best. In these cases
doubt and deliberation is itself dishonesty, as it was in
Balaam upon the second message. That which is
called considering what is our duty in a particular
case is very often nothing but endeavouring to explain
it away. Thus those courses, which, if men would
fairly attend to the dictates of their own consciences,
they would see to be corruption, excess, oppression,
uncharitableness ; these are refined upon — things were

pb

■ j> V[ ?« f? U~~^s> y£

UPON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 113

so and so circumstantiated — great difficulties are raised
about fixing bounds and degrees, and thus every moral
obligation whatever may be evaded. Here is scope, I
say, for an unfair mind to explain away every moral
obligation to itself. Whether men reflect again upon
this internal management and artifice, and how explicit
they are with themselves, is another question. There
are many operatious of the mind, many things pass
within, which we never reflect upon again ; which a
bystander, from having frequent opportunities of
observing us and our conduct, may make shrewd
guesses at.

That great numbers are in this way of deceiving
themselves is certain. There is scarce a man in the
world, who has entirely got over all regards, hopes,
and fears, concerning God and a future state ; and
these apprehensions in the generality, bad as we are,
prevail in considerable degrees : yet men will and can
be wicked, with calmness and thought ; we see they
are. There must therefore be some method of making
it sit a little easy upon their minds ; which, in the
superstitious, is those indulgences and atonements
before mentioned, and this self-decit of another kind
in persons of another character. And both these
proceed from a certain unfairness of mind, a peculiar
iward dishonesty ; the direct contrary to that .sim-
plicity which our Saviour recommends, under the
notion of becoming little children, as a necessary

114 butler's sermons.

qualification for our entering into the kingdom of
heaven.

But to conclude : How mucli soever men differ in
the course of life they prefer, and in their ways of
palliating and excusing their vices to themselves ; yet
I all agree in one thing, desiring to die the death of the
J righteous. This is surely remarkable. The observa-
tion may be extended further, and put thus : even
without determining what that is which we call guilt
or innocence, there is no man but would choose, after
having had the pleasure or advantage of a vicious
action, to be free of the guilt of it, to be in the state of
an innocent man. This shows at least the disturbance
and i m pi i c j t ri i ssat.i sf ac ti on in vice. If weinquire into
the grounds of it, we shall find it proceeds partly from ~
an immediate sense of having done evil, and partly
from an apprehension that this inward sense shall one
time or another be seconded by a higher judgment,
upon which our whole being depends. Now to sus-
pend and drown this sense, and these apprehensions, be
it by the hurry of business or of pleasure, or by super-
stition, or moral equivocations, this is in a manner one
and the same, and makes no alteration at all in the
nature of our case. Things and actions are what they
are, and the consequences of them will be what they
will be : why, then, should we desire to be deceived ?
As we are reasonable creatures, and have any regard to
ourselves, we ought to lay these things plainly and

UPON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 115

honestly before our mind, and upon this, act as you
please, as you think most fit : make that choice, and
prefer that course of life, which you can justify to
yourselves, and which sits most easy upon your own
mind. Li will immediately appear that vice cannot be
the happiness, but must upon the whole be the misery, of
such a creature as man ; a moral, an accountable agent.
Superstitious observances, self-deceit though of a more
refined sort, will not in reality at all mend matters
with us. And the result of the whole can be nothing
else, but that with simplicity and fairness we keep
innocency, and take heed unto the thing that is right ;
for this alone shall bring a man peace at the last.

f-

116

BUTLER S SERMONS.

SEKMON XI.

UPON THE LOYE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR.

PREACHED ON ADVENT SUNDAY.

Romans xiii. 9.

A nd if there be any other commandment, it is briefly comprehended in this
saying, namely, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

It is commonly observed that there is a disposition in
men to complain of the viciousness and corruption of
the age in which they live as greater than that of
former ones; which is usually followed with this
further observation, that mankind has been in that
respect much the same in all times. Now, not to
determine whether this last be not contradicted by the
accounts of history ; thus much can scarce be doubted
that vice and folly takes different turns, and some
particular kinds of it are more open and avowed in
some ages than in others; and, I suppose, it may be
spoken of as very much the distinction of the present
to profess a contracted spirit, and greater regards to
self-interest, than appears to have been done formerly.
Upon this account it seems worth while to inquire
whether private interest is likely to be promoted in
proportion to the degree in which self-love engrosses

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 117

us, and prevails over all other principles ; or whether >
the contracted affection may not possibly be so prevalent
as to disappoint itself, and even contradict its own and |

private good.

And since, further, there is generally thought to be
some peculiar kind of contrariety between self-love and
the love of our neighbour, between the pursuit of
public and of private good ; insomuch that when you
are recommending one of these, you are supposed to be
speaking against the other ; and from hence arises a
secret prejudice against, and frequently open scorn of,
all talk of public spirit and real good-will to our
fellow-creatures ; it will be necessary to inquire what
respect benevolence hath to self-love, and the pursuit of
private interest to the pursuit of public : or whether
there be anything of that peculiar inconsistence and
contrariety between them over and above what there is
between self-love and other passions and particular
affections, and their respective pursuits.

These inquiries, it is hoped, may be favourably
attended to ; for there shall be all possible concessions
made to the favourite passion, which hath so much

, allowed to it, and whose cause is so universally
pleaded : it shall be treated with the utmost tenderness

1 and concern for its interests.

In order to do this, as well as to determine the fore-
mentioned questions, it will be necessary to consider
the nature, the object, and end of that self-love, as

118 butler's sermons.

distinguished from other principles or affections in the
mind, and their respective objects.

Every man hath a general ' desire of his own happi-
ness; and likewise a variety of particular affections,
passions, and appetites to particular external objects.
The former proeeeds from, or is, self-love ; and seems
inseparable from all sensible creatures, who can reflect
jupon themselves and their own interest or happiness
so as to have that interest an object to their minds;
what is to be said of the latter is, that they proceed from
or together make up that particular nature, according
to which man is made. The object the former pursues
is somewhat internal — our own happiness, enjoyment,
satisfaction ; whether we have, or have not, a distinct
particular perception what it is, or wherein it consists :
the objects of the latter are this or that particular
external thing, which the affections tend towards, and
of which it hath always a particular idea or perception.
The principle we call self-love never seeks anything
external for the sake of the thing, but only as a means
I of happiness or good : particular affections rest in the
external things themselves. One belongs to man as a
reasonable creature reflecting upon his own interest or
happiness. The other, though quite distinct from
reason, are as much a part of human nature.

That all particular appetites and passions are
towards external things themselves, distinct from the
pleasure arising from them, is manifested from hence;

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 119

that there could not be this pleasure, were it not for
that prior suitableness between the object and the
passion : there could be no enjoyment or delight from
one thing more than another, from eating food more
than from swallowing a stone, if there were not an
affection or appetite to one thing more than another. /

Every particular affection, even the love of our-'
neighbour, is as really our own affection as self-love ;
and the pleasure arising from its gratification is as
much my own pleasure as the pleasure self-love would
have from knowing I myself should be happy some
time hence would be my own pleasure. And if,
because every particular affection is a man's own, and
the pleasure arising from its gratification his own
pleasure, or pleasure to himself, such particular affec-
tion must be called self-love ; according to this way of
speaking, no creature whatever can possibly act but
merely from self-love ; and every action and every
affection whatever is to be resolved up into this one ^
principle. But then this is not the language of
mankind ; or if it were, we should want words to
express the difference between the principle of an
action, proceeding from cool consideration that it will
be to my OAvn advantage ; and an action, suppose
of revenge or of friendship, by which a man runs
upon certain ruin, to do evil or good to another. It is
manifest the principles of these actions are totally dif-
ferent, and so want different words to be distinguished

120 butler's sermons.

by ; all that they agree in is that they both proceed
from, and are done to gratify, an inclination in
a man's self. But the principle or inclination in one
case is self-love; in the other, hatred or love of
another. There is then a distinction between the cool
principle of self-love, or general desire of our own
happiness, as one part of our nature, and one principle
of action; and the particular affections towards
particular external objects, as another part of our
nature, and another principle of action. How much
soever therefore is to be allowed to self-love, yet it
cannot be allowed to be the whole of our inward
constitution ; because, you see, there are other parts or
principles which come into it.

Further, private happiness or good is all which
self-love can make us desire, or be concerned about :
i i having this consists its gratification : it is an affec-
tion to ourselves ; a regard to our own interest, hap-
piness, and private good : and in the proportion a
man hath this, he is interested, or a lover of himself.
Let this be kept in mind ; because there is commonly,
as I shall presently have occasion to observe, another
sense put upon these words. On the other hand,
particular affections tend towards particular external
things : these are their objects : having these is their
end : in this consists their gratification : no matter
whether it be, or be not, upon the whole, our interest
or happiness. An action done from the former of

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 121

these principles is called an interested action. An-V-
action proceeding from any of the latter has its de-j
nomination of passionate, ambitious, friendly, revenge-
ful, or any other, from the particular appetite orl
affection from which it proceeds. Thus self-love as
one part of human nature, and the several particular
principles as the other part, are, themselves, their
objects and ends, stated and shown.

From hence it will be easy to see how far, and in
what ways, each of these can contribute and be sub-
servient to the private good of the individual. Ha.p- j
pincss does not consist in self-love. The desire of
happiness is no more the thing itself than the desire
of riches is the possession or enjoyment of them.
People might love themselves with the most entire
and unbounded affection, and yet be extremely miser-
able. Neither can self-love any way help them
out, but by setting them on work to get rid jojLthe
causes of their misery, to gain or make use of those j
objects which are by nature adapted to afford satisfac- >
tion. Happiness or satisfaction consists only hi the-v
enjoyment of those objects which are by nature suited I

(to our several particular appetites, passions, and sdy
fections. So that if self-love wholly engrosses us,
and leaves no room for any other principle, there
can be absolutely no such thing at all as happiness
or enjoyment of any kind whatever ; since happiness
consists in the gratification of particular passions,

122 butler's sermons.

which supposes the having of them. Self-love then
does not constitute this or that to be our interest
or good ; but, our interest or good being constituted
by nature and supposed, self-love only puts us upon
obtaining and securing it. Therefore, if it be pos-
sible that self-love may prevail and exert itself in a
degree or manner which is not subservient to this
end ; then it will not follow that our interest will be
promoted in proportion to the degree in which that
principle engrosses us, and prevails over others. Nay,
further, the private and contracted affection, when it
is not subservient to this end, private good may, for
anything that appears, have a direct contrary ten-
dency and effect. And if we will consider the matter,
we shall see that it often really has. Disengagement

*f is absolutely necessary to enjoyment ; and a person
may have so steady and fixed an eye upon his own

. interest, whatever ho places it in, as may hinder him
from attending to many gratifications within his reach,
which others have their minds free and open to.
Over-fondness for a child is not generally thought to
be for its advantage ; and, if there be any guess to bo
made from appearances, surely that character we call
selfish is not the most promising for happiness. Such
a temper may plainly be, and exert itself in a degree
and manner which may give unnecessary and useless
f solicitude and anxiety, in a degree and manner which
may prevent obtaining the means and materials of

6 L--5

I

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 123

enjoyment, as well as the making use of them. Im-
moderate self-love docs very ill consult its own
interest : and, how much soever a paradox it may ap-
pear, it is certainly true that even from self-love we
should endeavour to get over all inordinate regard
to and consideration of ourselves. Every one of our
passions and affections hath its natural stint and
bound, which may easily be exceeded; whereas our
enjoyments can possibly be but in a determinate
measure and degree. Therefore such excess of the
affection, since it cannot procure any enjoyment,
must" in all cases be useless ; but is generally attended
with inconveniences, and often is downright pain and
misery. This holds as much with regard to self-love
as to all other affections. The natural degree of it,
so far as it sets us on work to gain and make use
of the materials of satisfaction, may be to our real
advantage ; but beyond or besides this, it is in several
respects an inconvenience and disadvantage. Thus
it appears that private interest is so far from being
likely to be promoted in proportion to the degree
in which self-love engrosses us, and prevails over
all other principles, that the contracted affection may I
be so prevalent as to disappoint itself, and even con-
tradict its own and private good.

" But who, except the most sordidly covetous, ever
thought there was any rivalship between the love of
greatness, honour, power, or between sensual appetites

»>

jf* V I 9

124 butler's sermons.

and self-love? No, there is a perfect harmony
between them. It is by means of these particular
appetites and affections that self-love is gratified in
enjoyment, happiness, and satisfaction. The compe-
tition and rivalship is between self-love and the love
of our neighbour: that affection which leads us out
of ourselves, makes us regardless of our own interest,
and substitute that of another in its stead." Whether,
then, there be any peculiar competition and contrariety
in this case shall now be considered.

Self-love and interestedness was stated to consist
in or be an affection to ourselves, a regard to our
own private good: it is therefore distinct from be-
nevolence, which is an affection to the good of our
fellow-creatures. But that benevolence is distinct
from, that is, not the same thing with self-love, is no
reason for its being looked upon with anx peculiar
suspicion ; because every principle whatever, by means
■ of which self-love is gratified, is distinct from it;
and all things which are distinct from each other
are equally so. A man has an affection or aversion
to another : that one of these tends to, and is grati-
fied by, doing good, that the other tends to, and is
gratified by, doing harm, does not in the least alter
the respect which either one or the other of these
inward feelings has to self-love. We use the word
•property so as to exclude any other persons having
an interest in that of which we say a particular man

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 125

has the property. And we often use the word selfish
so as to exclude in the same manner all regards to
the good of others. But the cases are not parallel :
for though that exclusion is really part of the idea of
property; yet such positive exclusion, or bringing
this peculiar disregard to the good of others into the
idea of self-love, is in reality adding to the idea, or
changing it from what it was before stated to consist
in, namely, in an affection to ourselves.* This being the
whole idea of self-love, it can no otherwise exclude
good-will or love of others, than merely by not in-
cluding it, no otherwise, than it excludes love of arts
or reputation, or of anything else. Neither on the
other hand does benevolence, any more than love of
arts or of reputation exclude self-love. Love of our
neighbour, then, has just the same respect to, is no
more distant from, self-love, than hatred of our neigh-
bour, or than love or hatred of anything else. Thus
the principles, from which men rush upon certain
ruin for the destruction of an enemy, and for the
preservation of a friend, have the same respect to
the private affection, and are equally interested, or
equally disinterested; and it is of no avail whether
they are said to be one or the other. Therefore to
those who are shocked to hear virtue spoken of as
disinterested, it may be allowed that it is indeed
absurd to speak thus of it; unless hatred, several

> „ \.zu»A^/A

^v ■ (, \, o rv, <UV

126 butler's sermons.

particular instances of vice, and all the common affec-
tions and aversions in mankind, are acknowledged to be
disinterested too. Is there any less inconsistence be-
tween the love of inanimate things, or of creatures
merely sensitive, and self-love, than between self-love
and the love of our neighbour ? Is desire of and delight
in the happiness of another any more a diminution of
self-love than desire of and delight in the esteem of
another ? They are both equally desire of and de-
light in somewhat external to ourselves ; either both
or neither are_SQ. The object of self-love is expressed
in the term self 5 and every appetite of sense, and
every particular affection of the heart, are equally
interested or disinterested, because the objects of
them all are equally self or somewhat else. Whatever
ridicule therefore the mention of a disinterested prin-
ciple or action may be supposed to lie open to, must,
upon the matter being thus stated, relate to ambition,
and every appetite and particular affection as much
as to benevolence. And indeed all the ridicule, and
all the grave perplexity, of which this subject hath
had its full share, is merely from words. The most
intelligible way of speaking of it seems to be this :
that self-love and the actions done in consequence of
it (for these will presently appear to be the same as
to this question) are interested ; that particular affec-
tions towards external objects, and the actions done
in consequence of those affections are not so. But

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 127

every one is at liberty to use words as he pleases.
All that is here insisted upon is that ambition, re- a
venge, benevolence, all particular passions whatever,
and the actions they produce, are equally interested
or disinterested.

Thus it appears that there is no peculiar contrariety
between self-love and benevolence ; no greater compe-
tition between these than between any other particular
affections and self-love. This relates to the affections
themselves. Let us now see whether there be any
peculiar contrariety between the respective courses of
life which these affections lead to ; whether there be
any greater competition between the pursuit of private
and of public good, than between any other particular
pursuits and that of private good.

There seems no other reason to suspect that there
is any such peculiar contrariety, but only that the
course of action which benevolence leads to has a
more direct tendency to promote the good of others,
than that course of action Avhich love of reputation
suppose, or any other particular affection leads to.
But that any affection tends to the happiness of
another does not hinder its tending to one's own
happiness too. That others enjoy the benefit of the
air and the light of the sun does not hinder but that
these are as much one's own private advantage now
as they would be if we had the property of them ex-
clusive of all others. So a pursuit which tends to

128 BUTLER S SERMONS.

promote the good of another, yet may have as great
tendency to promote private interest, as a pursuit
which does not tend to the good of another at all, or
which is mischievous to him. All particular affections
whatever, resentment, benevolence, love of arts,
equally lead to a course of action for their own
gratification ; i.e., the gratification of ourselves ; and
the gratification of each gives delight : so far, then, it
] is manifest they have all the same respect to private
1 interest. Now take into consideration, further, con-
cerning these three pursuits, that the end of the first is
the harm, of the second, the good of another, of the
last, somewhat indifferent ; and is there any neces-
sity that these additional considerations should alter
the respect, which we before saw these three pursuits
had to private interest, or render any one of them
less conducive to it, than any other ? Thus one man's
affection is to honour as his end ; in order to obtain
which he thinks no pains too great. Suppose another,
with such a singularity of mind, as to have the same
affection to public good as his end, which he endea-
vours with the same labour to obtain. In ease of
success, surely the man of benevolence hath as great
enjoyment as the man of ambition ; they both equally
having the end their affections, in the same degree,
tended to ; but in case of disappointment, the benevo-
lent man has clearly the advantage ; since endea-
vouring to do good, considered as a virtuous pursuit, is

UPON THE LOVE OP OUR NEIGHBOUR. 12£T

gratified by its own consciousness, i.e., is in a degree \\
its own reward.

And as to these two, or benevolence and any other
particular passions whatever, considered in a further
view, as forming a general temper, which more or less
disposes us for enjoyment of all the common blessings
of life, distinct from their own gratification, is
benevolence less the temper of tranquillity and free-
dom than ambition or covetousness ? Does the bene-
volent man appear less easy with himself from hia
love to his neighbour ? Does he less relish his being ?
Is there any peculiar gloom seated on his face ? Is
his mind less open to entertainment, to any particular
gratification ? Nothing is more manifest than that
being in good humeur, which is benevolence whilst it
lasts, is itself the temper of satisfaction and enjoy-
ment.

Suppose then, a man sitting down to consider how
he might become most easy to himself, and attain the
greatest pleasure he could, all that which is his real .
natural happiness. This can only consist in the en-
joyment of those objects which are by nature adapted
to our geveral faculties. These particular enjoyments
make up the sum total of our happiness, and they are-
supposed to arise from riches, honours, and the grati-
fication of sensual appetites. Be it so ; yet none pro-
fess themselves so completely happy in these enjoy-
ments but that there is room left in the mind for
E— 93

130 butler's sermons.

others, if they were presented to them : nay, these, a9
much as they engage us, are not thought so high, but
that human nature is capable even of greater. Now
there have been persons uf^alT^es who have pro-
fessed that they found satisfaction in the exercise of
charity, in the love of their neighbour, in endea-
vouring to promote the happiness of all they had to
do with, and in the pursuit of what is just and right
and good as the general bent of their mind and end
of their life ; and that doing an action of baseness or
cruelty would be as great violence to their self,
as much breaking in upon their nature, as any ex-
ternal force. Persons of this character would add,
if they might be heard, that they consider themselves
as acting in the view of an Infinite Being, who is in a
much higher sense the object of reverence and of love,
than all the world besides ; and therefore they could
have no more enjoyment from a wicked action done
under His eye than the persons to whom they are
making their apology could if all-mankind were the
spectators of it ; and that the satisfaction of approving
themselves to his unerring judgment, to whom they
thus refer all their actions, is a more continued
settled satisfaction than any this world can afford;
as also that they have, no less than others, a mind
free and open to all the common innocent gratifica-
tions of it, such as they are. And if we go no farther,
does there appear any absurdity in this ? Will any

^ / a...

C\ _^ v2

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 131

one take upon him to say that a man cannot find his
account in this general course of life as much as in
the most unbounded ambition, and the excesses of
pleasure ? Or that such a person has not consulted so
well for himself, for the satisfaction and peace of his
own mind, as the ambitious or dissolute man P And
though the consideration that God himself will in the
end justify their taste, and support their cause, is not
formally to be insisted upon here, yet thus much
comes in, that all enjoyments whatever are much more
clear and unmixed from the assurance that they will
end well. Is it certain, then, that there is nothing in
these pretensions to happiness ? especially when there
are not wanting persons who have supported them-
selves with satisfactions of this kind in sickness,
poverty, disgrace, and in the very pangs of death;
whereas it is manifest all other enjoyments fail in
these circumstances. This surely looks suspicious of
having somewhat in it. Self-love, methinks, should
be alarmed. May she not possibly pass over greater
pleasures than those she is so wholly taken up with ?

The short of the matter is no more than this.
Happiness consists in the gratification of certain
affections, appetites, passions, with objects which are
by nature adapted to them. Self-love may indeed
set us on work to gratify these, but happiness or en-
joyment has no immediate connection with self-love,
but arises from such gratification alone. Love of our

132 butler's sermons.

neighbour is one of those affections. This, considered
as a virtuous principle, is gratified by a consciousness
of endeavouring to promote the good of others, but
considered as a natural affection, its gratification con-
sists in the actual accomplishment of this endeavour.
Now indulgence or gratification of this affection,
whether in that consciousness or this accomplishment,
has the same respect to interest as indulgence of any
other affection ; they equally proceed from or do not
proceed from self-love, they equally include or equally
exclude this principle. Thus it appears, that bene-
volence and the pursuit of public good hath at least as
I great respect to self-love and the pursuit of private
good as any other particular passions, and their
respective pursuits.

Neither is covetousness, whether as a temper or
pursuit, any exception to this. For if by covetous-
ness is meant the desire and pursuit of riches for
their own sake, without any regard to, or considera-
tion of, the uses of them, this hath as little to do with
self-love as benevolence hath. But by this word is
usually meant, not such madness and total distraction
of mind, but immoderate affection to and pursuit of
riches as possessions in order to some further end,
namely, satisfaction, interest, or good. This, there-
fore, is not a particular affection or particular pursuit,
but it is the general principle of self-love, and the
general pursuit of our own interest, for which reason

UPON THE LOVE OF OUK NEIGHBOUR. 133

the word selfish is by every one appropriated to this
temper and pursuit. Now as it is ridiculous to assert
that self-love and the love of our neighbour are the
same, so neither is it asserted that following these
different affections hath the same tendency and respect
to our own interest. The comparison is not between
self-love and the love of our neighbour, between
pursuit of our own interest and the interest of others,
but between the several particular affections in
human nature towards external objects, as one part
of the comparison, and the one particular affec-
tion to the good of our neighbour as the other part
of it: and it has been shown that all these have
the same respect to self-love and private interest.

There is indeed frequently an inconsistence or inter-
fering between self-love or private interest and the
several particular appetites, passions, affections, or the
pursuits they lead to. But this competition or inter-
fering is merely accidental, and happens much oftener
between pride, revenge, sensual gratifications, and pri-
vate interest, than between private interest and bene-
volence. For nothing is more common than to see
men give themselves up to a passion or an affection to
-their known prejudice and ruin, and in direct contra-
diction tq^manifest and real interest, and the loudest
calls of self-love: whereas the seeming competitions
and interfering, between benevolence and private in-
terest, relate much more to the materials or means of

134 butler's sermons.

enjoyment than to enjoyment itself. There is often
an interfering in the former when there is none in the
latter. Thus as to riches : so much money as a man
gives away, so much less will remain in his possession.
Here is a real interfering. But though a man cannot
possibly give without lessening his fortune, yet there are
multitudes might give without lessening their own en-
joyment, because they may have more than they can
turn to any real use or advantage to themselves. Thus
the more thought and time any one employs about the
interests and good of others, he must necessarily have
less to attend his own : but he may have so ready and
large a supply of his own wants, that such thought
might be really useless to himself, though of grea^.
service and assistance to others.

The general mistake, that there is some greater in-
consistence between endeavouring to promote the good
of another and self-interest, than between self-interest
and pursuing anything else, seems, as hath already
been hinted, to arise from our notions of property,
and to be carried on by this property's being supposed
to be itself our happiness or good. People are so very
much taken up with this one subject, that they seem
from it to have formed a general way of thinking,
which they apply to other things that they have
nothing to do with. Hence in a confused and slight
way it might well be taken for granted that another's
having no interest in an affection (i.e., his good not

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 135

being the object of it) renders, as one may speak, \he
proprietor's interest in it greater; and that if
another had an interest in it this would render his
less, or occasion that such affection could not be so
friendly to self-love, or conducive to private good, as
an affection or pursuit which has not a regard to the
good of another. This, I say, might be taken for
granted, whilst it was not attended to, that the object
of every particular affection is equally somewhat ex-
ternal to ourselves, and whether it be the good of
another person, or whether it be any other external
thing, makes no alteration with regard to its being
one's own affection, and the gratification of it one't
own private enjoyment. And so far as it is taken fo-
granted that barely having the means and material:-
of enjoyment is what constitutes interest and happi-
ness ; that our interest or good consists in possessions
themselves, in having the property of riches, houses,
lands, gardens, not in the enjoyment of them ; so far
it will even more strongly be taken for granted, in the
way already explained, that an affection's conducing to
the good of another must even necessarily occasion it
to conduce less to private good, if not to be positively
detrimental to it. For, if property and happiness are
one and the same thing, as by increasing the property
of another you lessen your own property, so by pro-
moting the happiness of another you must lessen your
own happiness. But whatever occasioned the mistake,

136 butler's sermons.

I hope it has been fully proved to be one, as it has
been proved, that there is no peculiar rival ship or com-
petition between self-love and benevolence : that as
there may be a competition between these two, so there
may also between any particular affection whatever
and self-love ; that every particular affection, benevo-
lence among the rest, is subservient to self-love by
being the instrument of private enjoyment ; and that
in one respect benevolence contributes more to private
interest, i.e., enjoyment or satisfaction, than any other
of the particular common affections, as it is in a degree
its own gratification.

And to all these things may be added that religion,
from whence arises our strongest obligation to benevo-
lence, is so far from disowning the principle of self-
love, that it often addresses itself to that very prin-
*L ciple,and always to the mind in that state when reason
presides, and there can no access be had to the under-
standing, but by convincing men that the course of
life we would persuade them to is not contrary to their
interest. It may be allowed, without any prejudice to
the cause of virtue and religion, that our ideas of
happiness and misery are of all our ideas the nearest
and most important to us ; that they will, nay, if you
please, that they ought to prevail over those of order,
and beauty, and harmony, and proportion, if there
should ever be, f„s it is impossible there ever should be,
any inconsistence between them, though these last,

1*

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 137

too, as expressing the fitness of actions, are real as
truth itself. Let it be allowed,though virtue or moral
rectitude does indeed consist in affection to and pur-
suit of what is right and good, as such, yet, that when
we sit down in a cool hour, we can neither justify to
ourselves this or any other pursuit, till we are con-
vinced that it will be for our happiness, or at least not I
contrary to it.

Common reason and humanity will have some in-
fluence upon mankind, whatever becomes of specula-
tions ; but, so far as the interests of virtue depend
upon the theory of it being secured from open scorn,
so far its very being in the world depends upon its
appearing to have no contrariety to private interest
and self-love. The foregoing observations, therefore,
it is hoped, may have gained a little ground in favour
of the precept before us, the particular explanation of
which shall be the subject of the next discourse.

I will conclude at present with observing the pecu-
liar obligation which we are under to virtue and
religion, as enforced in the verses following the text,
in the epistle for the day, from our Saviour's coming
into the world. The night is far spent, the day is at
hand ; let us therefore cast off the worlcs of darhiess,
and let us put on the armour of light, &c. The mean-
ing and force of which exhortation is, that Christianity
lays us under new obligations to a good life, as by it
the will of God is more clearly revealed, and as it

138 butlee's sermons.

affords additional motives to the practice of it, over
and above those which arise out of the nature of virtue
and vice, I might add, as our Saviour has set us a
perfect example of goodness in our own nature. Now

(love and charity is plainly the thing in which He hath
placed His religion; in which, therefore, a3 we have any
pretence to the name of Christians, we must place ours.
He hath at once enjoined it upon us by way of com-
mand with peculiar force, and by His example, as
I having undertaken the work of our salvration out of
pure love and goodwill to mankind. The endeavour
to set home this example upon our minds is a very
proper employment of this season, which is bringing
on the festival of His birth, whic«, as it may teach us
many excellent lessons of humility, resignation, and
obedience to the will of God, so there is none it re-
commends with greater authority, force, and advan-
tage than this love and charity, since it was for us
men, and for our salvation, that He came down from
heaven, and was incarnate, and was made man, that
He might teach us our duty, and more especially that
He might enforce the practice of it, reform mankind,
and finally bring us to that eternal salvation, of which
He is the Author to all those that obey Him.

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 139

SERMON XEI.

UPON THE LOYE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR.

Rom. xiii. 9.

And if there he any other commandment, It is briefly comprehended in this
saying, namely, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

Having already removed the prejudices against
public spirit, or the love of our neighbour, on the side
of private interest and self-love, I proceed to the par-
ticular explanation of the precept before us, by show-
ing, Who is our neighbour : In what sense we are
required to love him as ourselves ; The influence such
love would have upon our behaviour in life ; and lastly,
How this commandment comprehends in it all others.

I. The objects and due extent of this affection
will be understood by attending to the nature of it,
and to the nature and circumstances of mankind in this
world. The love of our neighbour is the same with
charity, benevolence, or goodwill : it is an affection to
the good and happiness of our fellow-creatures. This
implies in it a disposition to pr^11.™ bajpgu^eas, and
this is the simple notion of goodness, which appears so
amiable wherever we meet with it. From hence it is
easy to see that the perfection of goodness consists in

140 butler's sermons.

love to the whole universe. This is the perfection of
f Almighty God.

But as man is so much limited in his capacity, as
so small a part of the Creation comes under his notice
and influence, and as we are not used to consider things
in so general a way, it is not to be thought of that the

• universe should be the ol j >ct of benevolence to such
creatures as we are. Thus in that precept of our
Saviour, Be ye perfect, eve*, as your Father, which is
in heaven, is perfect,* the perfection of the divine
goodness is proposed to our imitation as it is promis-
cuous, and extends to the evil as well as the good ; not
as it is absolutely universal, imitation of it in this
respect being plainly beyond us. The object is too
vast. For this reason moral writers also have substi-

• tuted a less general object for our benevolence, man-
kind. But this likewise is an object too general, and

-* very much out of our view. Therefore persons more
practical have, instead of mankind, put our country,
and made the principle of virtue, of human virtue, to
consist in the entire uniform love of our country : and
this is what we call a public spirit, which in men of
public stations is the character of a patriot. But this
» is speaking to the upper part of the world. Kingdoms
and governments are large, and the sphere of action
of far the greatest part of mankind is much narrower
than the government they live under: or however,

* Matt. v. 48.

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 141

common men do not consider their actions as affecting
the whole community of which they are members.
There plainly is wanting a less general and nearer
object of benevolence for the bulk of men than that of
their country. Therefore the Scripture, not being a
book of theory and speculation, but a plain rule of life
for mankind, has with the utmost possible propriety
put the principle of virtue upon the love of our neigh-
bour, which is that part of the universe, that part of t
mankind, that part of our country, which comes under J
our immediate notice, acquaintance, and influence, and*
with which we have to do.

This is plainly the true account or reason why our
Saviour places the principle of virtue in the love of our
neighbour, and the account itself shows who are com-
prehended under that relation.

II. Let us now consider in what sense we are com-
manded to love our neighbour as ourselves.

This precept, in its first delivery by our Saviour,
is thus introduced : — Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thine heart, with all thy soul, and
with all thy strength ; and thy neighbour as thyself.
These very different manners of expression do not
lead our thoughts to the same measure or degree
of love, common to both objects, but to one peculiar
to each. Supposing, then, which is to be supposed, a
distinct meaning and propriety in the words, as thy-
self; the precept we are considering will admit of any

142 butler's sermons.

of these senses : that we bear the same hind of affection
to our neighbour as we do to ourselves, or, that the
love we bear to our neighbour should have some certain
proportion or other to self-love : or, lastly, that it
should bear the particular proportion of equality, that
it he in the same degree.

First, The precept may be understood as requiring
only that we have the same hind of affection to our
fellow-creatures as to ourselves; that, as every man
has the principle of self-love, which disposes him to
avoid misery, and consult his own happiness, so we
should cultivate the affection of goodwill to our
neighbour, and that it should influence us to have tlie
same kind of regard to him. This at least must be
commanded, and this will not only prevent our being
injurious to him, but will also put us upon promoting
his good. There are blessings in life, which we share
in common with others, peace, plenty, freedom,
healthful seasons. But real benevolence to our fellow-
creatures would give us the notion of a common
interest in a stricter sense, for in the degree we love

■ another, his interest, his joys and sorrows, are our
own. It is from self-love that we form the notion of
private good, and consider it is our own : love of our
neighbour would teach us thus to appropriate to our-

1 selves his good and welfare ; to consider ourselves as
having a real share in his happiness. Thus the
principle of benevolence would be an advocate within

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 143

our own breasts, to take care of the interests of our
follow- creatures in all the interfering and competitions
which cannot but be, from the imperfection of our
nature, and the state we are in. It would likewise, in
some measure, lessen that interfering, and hinder men
from forming so strong a notion of private good, ex-
clusive of the good of others, as we commonly do.
Thus, as the private affection makes us in a peculiar
manner sensible of humanity, justice or injustice, when
exercised towards ourselves, love of our neighbour •
would give us the same kind of sensibility in his —
behalf. This would be the greatest security of our
uniform obedience to that most equitable rule. What-
soever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye
even so unto them.

All this is indeed no more than that we should have
a real love to our neighbour ; but then, which is to be
observed, the words as thyself express this in the
most distinct manner, and determine the precept to
relate to the affection itself. The advantage which
this principle of benevolence has over other remote
considerations is, that it is itself the temper of virtue, )
and likewise that it is the chief, nay, the only effectual \
security of our performing the several offices of kind--'
ness we owe to our fellow-creatures. When from
distant considerations men resolve upon any thing to
which they have no liking, or perhaps an averseness,
they are perpetually finding out evasions and excuses,

144 butler's sermons.

which need never be wanting, if people look for them :
and they equivocate with themselves in the plainest
cases in the world. This may be in respect to single
determinate acts of virtue, but it comes in much more,
where the obligation is to a general course of behaviour,
and most of all, if it be such as cannot be reduced to
fixed determinate rules. This observation may account
for the diversity of the expression in that known
\ passage of the prophet Micah, to do justly, and to love
mercy. A man's heart must be formed to humanity
and benevolence, he must love mercy, otherwise he will
X not act mercifully in any settled course of behaviour.
As consideration of the future sanctions of religion is
2 our only security of preserving in our duty, in cases of
great temptation : so to get our heart and temper
formed to a love and liking of what is good is
X absolutely necessary in order to our behaving rightly
in the familiar and daily intercourses amongst man-
kind.

Secondly, The precept before us may be understood
to require that we love our neighbour in some certain
proportion or other, according as we love ourselves
And indeed a man's character cannot be determined by
the love he bears to his neighbour, considered
absolutely, but the proportion which this bears to self-
love, Avhether it be attended to or not, is the chief thing
which forms the character and influences the actions.
For, as the form of the body is a composition of

*

UPON THE LOYE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 145

various parts, so likewise our inward structure is not
simple or uniform, but a composition of various pas-
sions, appetites, affections, together with rationality,
including in this last both the discernment of what is
right, and a disposition to regulate ourselves by it.
There is greater variety of parts in what we call a
character than there are features in a face, and the
morality of that is no more determined by one part
than the beauty or deformity of this is by one single
feature : each is to be judged of by all the parts or
features, not taken singly, but together. In the
inward frame the various passions, appetites, affections,
stand in different respects to each other. The
principles in our mind may be contradictory, or checks
and allays only, or incentives and assistants to each
other. And principles, which in their nature have no
kind of contrariety or affinity, may yet accidentally be
each other's allays or incentives.

From hence it comes to pass, that though we were
able to look into the inward contexture of the heart, and
see with the greatest exactness in what degree any one
principle is in a particular man, we could not from
thence determine how far that principle would go
towards forming the character, or what influence it
would have upon the actions, unless we could likewise
discern what other principles prevailed in him, and see
the p^rppnrt. i rnx^wli i o li that one bears to the others.
Thus, though two men should have the affection of

146 butler's sermons.

compassion in the same degree exactly, yet one may
have the principle of resentment or of ambition so
strong in him as to prevail over that of compassion,
and prevent its having any influence upon his actions,
so that he may deserve the character of a hard or
cruel man, whereas the other having compassion in
just the same degree only, yet having resentment or
ambition in a lower degree, his compassion may pre-
vail over them, so as to influence his actions, and to
denominate his temper compassionate. So that, how
strange soever it may appear to people who do not
attend to the thing, yet it is quite manifest that, when
we say one man is more resenting or compassionate
than another, this does not necessarily imply that one
has the principle of resentment or of compassion
stronger than the other. For if the proportion which
resentment or compassion bears to other inward
principles is greater in one than in the other, this is
itself sufficient to denominate one more resenting or
compassionate than the other.

Further, the whole system, as I may speak, of
affections (including rationality), which constitute the
heart, as this word is used in Scripture and on moral
subjects, are each* and all of them stronger in some
than in others. How the proportion which the two
general affections,; benevolence and self-love, bear to
each other, according to this interpretation of the text,
denomiiates men's character as to virtue. Suppose,

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VVfi> /'Jlu *» w* C*N V v • A. W^A.jv

** UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR., T.47 l

- ■■

then, one man to have the principle of benevolence
in a higher degree than another; it will not follow
from hence that his general temper or character
or actions will be more benevolent than the other's.
For he may have self-love in such a degree as quite
to prevail over benevolence, so that it may have
no influence at all upon his action, whereas bene-
volence in the other person, though in a lower degree,
may yet be the strongest principle in his heart, and
strong enough to be the guide of his actions, so
as to denominate him a good and virtuous man.
The case is here as in scales i it is not one weight
considered in itself, which determines whether the
scale shall ascend or descend, but this depends upon
the proportion which that one weight hath to the
other.

It being thus manifest that the influence which
benevolence has upon our actions, and how far it
goes towards forming our character, is not deter-
mined by the degree itself of this principle in our
mind, but by the proportion it has to self-love and
other principles : a comparison also being made in
the text between self-love and the love of our neigh-
bour; these joint considerations afforded sufficient
occasion for treating here of that proportion. It plainly
is implied in the precept, though it should be ques-
tioned, whether it be the exact meaning of the words,
as thyself.

148 butler's sermons.

Love of our neighbour, then, must beat some pro-
portion to self-love, and virtue, to be sure, consists in
the due proportion. What this due proportion is,
whether as a principle in the mind, or as exerted in

4 actions, can be judged of only from our nature and
condition in this world. Of the degree in which

| affections and the principles of action, considered in
themselves, prevail, we have no m easure : let us,
then, proceed to the course of behaviour, the actions
they produce.

Both our nature and condition require that each
particular man should make particular provision for
himself : and the inquiry, what proportion benevo-
lence should have to self-love, when brought down

f to practice, will be, what is a competent care and
X>rovision for ourselves ? And how certain soever it
be that each man must determine this for himself,
and how ridiculous soever it would be for any to
attempt to determine it for another, yet it is to be
observed that the proportion is real, and that a
competent provision has a bound, and that it cannot
be all which we can possibly get and keep within our

• grasp, without legal injustice. Mankind almost
v universally bring in vanity, supplies for what is
called a life of pleasure, covetousness, or imaginary
notions of superiority over others, to determine this
question : but every one who desires to act a proper
part in society would do well to consider how far

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 149

any of them come in to determine it, in the way of
moral consideration. All that can be said is, sup-
posing what, as the world goes, is so much to be
supposed that it is scarce to be mentioned, that
persons do not neglect what they really owe to
themselves; the more of their care and thought
and of their fortune they employ in doing good to
their fellow-creatures the nearer they come up to
the law of perfection, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself.

Thirdly, if the words as thyself were to be under-
stood of an equality of affection, it would not be
attended with those consequences which perhaps
may be thought to follow from it. Suppose a person to
have the same settled regard to others as to himself ;
that in every deliberate scheme or pursuit he took
their interest into the account in the same degree as
his own, so far as an equality of affection would
produce this : yet he would, in fact, and ought to be,
much more taken up and employed about himself,
and his own concerns, than about others, and their
interests. For, besides the one common affection
toward himself and his neighbour he would have
several other particular affections, passions, appetites,
which he could not possibly feel in common both for
himself and others. Now these sensations themselves
very much employ us, and have perhaps as great
influence as self-love. So far indeed as self-love,

150 butler's sermons.

and cool reflection upon what is for our interest,
would set us on work to gain a supply of our own
several wants, so far the love of our neighbour
would make us do the same for him : but the degree
in which we are put upon seeking and making use
of the means of gratification, by the feeling of those

{ affections, appetites, and passions, must necessarily be
peculiar to ourselves.

That there are particular passions (suppose shame,
resentment) which men seem to have, and feel in
common, both for themselves and others, makes no
alteration in respect to those passions and appetites
which cannot possibly be thus felt in common.
From hence (and perhaps more things of the like
kind might be mentioned) it follows, that though
there were an eqnality of affection to both, yet
regards to ourselves would be more prevalent than
attention to the concerns of others.

And from moral considerations it ought to be so,
supposing still the equality of affection commanded,
because we are in a peculiar manner, as I may speak,

\ intrusted with ourselves, and therefore care of our

| own interests, as well as of our conduct, particularly

I belongs to us.

To these things must be added, that moral obliga
tions can extend no further than to natural possi-
bilities. Now we have a perception of our own
interests, like consciousness of our own existence,

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 151

which we always carry about with us, and which,
in its continuation, kind, and degree, seems im-
possible to be felt in respect to the interests of
others.

From all these things it fully appears that though
we were to love our neighbour in the same degree
as we love ourselves, so far as this is possible, yet
the care of ourselves, of the individual, would not be
neglected, the apprehended danger of which seems
to be the only objection against understanding the
precept in this strict sense.

III. The general temper of mind which the due
love of our neighbour would form us to, and the
influence it would have upon our behaviour in life,
is now to be considered.

The temper and behaviour of charity is explained
at large in that known passage of St. Paul : *
Charity suffereth long, and is kind ; charity en-
vieth not, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeheth
not her own, thinketh no evil, beareth all things
beliereth all things, hopeth all things. As to the
meaning of the expressions, seelceth not her own,
thinketh no evil, believeth all things; however those
expressions may be explained away, this meekness,
and in some degree easiness cf temper, readiness
to forego our right for the sake of peace, as well
as in the way of compassion, freedom from n istrust,

* I Cor. xiii.

lo2 butler's sermons.

and disposition to believe well of our neighbour,
this general temper, I say, accompanies, and is plainly
the effect of love and goodwill. And, though such is
the world in which we live, that experience and know-
ledge of it not only may, but must beget, in us greater
regard to ourselves, and doubtfulness of the characters
of others, than is natural to mankind, yet these ought
not to be carried further than the nature and course of
things make necessary. It is still true, even in the
present state of things, bad as it is, that a real good
man had rather be deceived than be suspicious ; had
rather forego his known right, than run the venture
of doing even a hard thing. This is the general
temper of that charity, of which the apostle asserts,
that if he had it not, giving his body to be burned would
avail him nothing ; and which he says shall never
fail.

The happy influence of this temper extends to
every different relation and circumstance in human
life. It plainly renders a man better, more to be
desired, as to all the respects and relations we can
stand in to each other. The benevolent man is dis-
posed to make use of all external advantages in such
a manner as shall contribute to the good of others,
as well as to his own satisfaction. His own satis-
faction consists in this. He will be easy and kind to
his dependents, compassionate to the poor and dis-
tressed, friendly to all with whom he has to do.

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR.

153

This includes the good neighbour, parent, master,
magistrate : and such a behaviour would plainly
make dependence, inferiority, and even servitude,
easy. So that a good or charitable man of superior
rank in wisdom, fortune, authority, ' is a common
blessing to the place he lives in : happiness grows
under his influence. This good principle in inferiors
would discover itself in paying respect, gratitude,
obedience, as due. It were therefore, methinks, one
just way of trying one's own character to ask our-
selves, am I in reality a better master or servant, a

^ better friend, a better neighbour, than such and
such persons, whom, perhaps, I may think not to
deserve the character of virtue and religion so much
as myself ?

And as to the spirit of party, which unhappily
prevails amongst mankind, whatever are the dis-
tinctions which serve for a supply to it, some or
other of which have obtained in all ages and countries,
one who is thus friendly to his kind will immediately

\ make due allowances for it, as what cannot but be
amongst such creatures as men, in such a world as this.
' And as wrath and fury and overbearing upon these
occasions proceed, as I may speak, from men's feeling
only on their own side, so a common feeling, for
others as well as for ourselves, would render us sen-
sible to this truth, which it is strange can have so little
iufiuence, that we ourselves differ from others, just as

154 butler's sermons.

"V7

much as they do from us. I put the matter in this
way, because it can scarce be expected that the
generality of men should see that those things which
are made the occasions of dissension and fomenting
the party-spirit are really nothing at all : but it may
be expected from all people, how much soever thev are
in earnest about their respective peculiarities, that
humanity and common goodwill to their fellow-
creatures should moderate and restrain that wretched
spirit.

This good temper of charity likewise would pre-
vent strife and enmity arising from other occasions :
it would prevent our giving just cause of offence, and
our taking it without cause. And in cases of real in-
jury, a good man will make all the allowances which
are to be made, and, without any attempts of re-
taliation, he will only consult his own and other
men's security for the future against injustice and
wrong.

IV. I proceed to consider, lastly, what is affirmed
of the precept now explained, that it comprehends in
it all others, i.e., that to love our neighbour as our-
selves includes in it all virtues.

Now the way in which every maxim of conduct,
or general speculative assertion, when it is to be
explained at large should be treated, is, to show what
are the particular truths which were designed to
be comprehended under such a general observation,

2n> s s\ ^

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 155

how far it is strictly true, and then the limitations,
restrictions, and exceptions, if there be exceptions,
with which it is to be understood. But it is only the
former of these, namely, how far the assertion in the
text holds, and the ground of the pre-eminence assigned
to the precept of it, which in strictness comes into our
present consideration.

However, in almost everything that is said, there
is somewhat to be understood beyond what is ex-
plicitly laid down, and .which we of course supply,
somewhat, I mean, which would not be commonly
called a restriction or limitation. Thus, when bene-
volence is said to be the sum of virtue, it is not
spoken of as a blind propension, but as a principle in

1 reasonable creatures, and so to be directed by their
reason, for reason and reflection comes into our
notion of a moral agent. And that will lead us to
consider distant consequences, as well as the im-
mediate tendency of an action. It will teach us that
the care of some persons, suppose children and
families, is particularly committed to our charge
by Natureand~TFrovidence, as' also that there are
other circumstances, suppose friendship or former
obligations, which require that we do good to some,
preferably to others. Reason, considered merely as
subservient to benevolence, as assisting to produce the
greatest good, will teach us to have particular regard
to these relations and circumstances, because it is

156 butler's sermons.

plainly for the good of tlie world that they should be
regarded. And as there are numberless cases in
which, notwithstanding appearances, we are not com-
petent judges, whether a particular action will upon
the whole do good or harm, reason in the same

Iway will teach us to be cautious how we act in these
cases of uncertainty. It will suggest to our considera-
tion which is the safer side ; how liable we are to be
led wrong by passion and private interest ; and what
regard is due to laws, and the judgment of mankind.
All these things must come into consideration,
were it only in order to determine which way of
acting is likely to produce the greatest good. Thus,
upon supposition that it were in the strictest sense
true, without limitation, that benevolence includes in
it all virtues, yet reason must come in as its guide")
and director, in order to attain its own end, the end
of benevolence, the greatest public good. Reason, then, \ "t*
being thus included, let us now consider the truth of )
the assertion itself. ^

First, It is manifest that nothing can be of conse-
quence to mankind or any creature but happiness.
This, then, is all which any person can, in strictness
of speaking, be said to have a right to. We can
therefore owe no man anything, but only to further
and promote his happiness, according to our abilities.
And therefore a disposition and endeavour to do good
to all with whom we have to do, in the degree and

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 157

manner which the different relations we stand in to
them require, is a discharge of all the obligations we
are under to them.

As human nature is not one simple uniform thing,
but a composition of various parts, body, spirit, appe-
tites, particular passions, and affections, for each of
which reasonable self-love would lead men to have due
regard, and make suitable provision, so society con-
sists of various parts to which we stand in different
respects and relations, and just benevolence would
as surely lead us to have due regard to each of these.
and behave as the respective relations require. Rea-
sonable goodwill and right behaviour towards our
fellow- creatures are in a manner the same, only that
the former expresseth the principle as it is in the
mind ; the latter, the principle as it were become
external, i.e., exerted in actions.

And so far as temperance, sobriety, and moderation
in sensual pleasures, and the contrary vices, have any
respect to our fellow-creatures, any influence upon
their quiet, welfare, and happiness, as they always
have a real, and often a near influence upon it, so far f
it is manifest those virtues may be produced by the '
love of our neighbour, and that the contrary vices
would be prevented by it. Indeed, if men's regard to
themselves will not restrain them from excess, it
may be thought little probable that their love to
others will be sufficient : but the reason is, that their

158 butler's sermons.

love to others is not, any more than their regard to
-themselves, just, and in its due degree. There are,
however, manifest instances of persons kept sober and
temperate from regard to their affairs, and the wel-
fare of those who depend upon them. And it is
obvious to every one that habitual excess, a dissolute
course of life, implies a general neglect of the duties
we owe towards our friends, our families, and our
country.

From hence it is manifest that the common virtues
and the common vices of mankind may be traced up
to benevolence, or the want of it. And this entitles
the precept, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,
to the pre-eminence given to it, and is a justification
of the apostle's assertion, that all other command-
ments are comprehended in it, whatever cautions and
restrictions # there are, which might require to be

* For instance : as we are not competent judges, what is upon the
whole fur tin: good of the world, there niaj he other immediate ends
appointed us to pursue, hesides that one of doing good or producing
hnppmcr.s. Though the good of the Creation be the only end of the
Author of it, yet he may have laid us under particular obligations.
which we may discern and feel ourselves under, quite distinct from
a perception, that the observance or violation of them it for the hap-
piness or misery of our fellow-creatures. And this is in fact the case,
for there are certain dispositions of mind, and certain actions, which
are in themselves approved or disapproved by mankind, abstracted
from the consideration of their tendency to the happiness or misery
of the world ; approved or disapproved by reflection, by that prin-
ciple within, which is the guide of life, the judge of right and wrong.
Numberless instances of this kind might be mentioned. There are
pieces of treachery, which in themselves appear base and detestable

kind. But,

Secondly, It might be added, that in a higher ami

UPON THE LOY1* OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 159

considered, if we were to state particularly and at
length what is virtue and and right behaviour in man-
more general way of consideration, leaving out the
particular nature of creatures, and the particular
circumstances in which they are placed, benevolence
seems in the strictest sense to include in it all that is
good and worthy, all that is good, which we have any
distinct particular notion of. We have no clear con-
ception of any position moral attribute in the Supreme
Being, but what may be resolved up into goodness.
And, if we consider a reasonable creature or moral
agent, without regard to the particular relations and j
circumstances in which he is placed, we cannot

to every one. There are actions, which perhaps can scarce have any

other general name given them than ino^ecemjjgg, which yet are odious
and shocking to human nature. There is such a thing as meanness, £ -
a little mind, which as it is quite distinct from incapacity, "So- it
raises a dislike and disapprobation quite different from that contempt,
which men are too apt to have, of mere folly. On the other hand,
what we call greajtness of mind is the object of another sort of appro- *'
bation, than superior understanding. Fidelity, hongur, strict jus- Vj
tice, are themselves approved in the highest degree, abstract eTTTi om ,
the consideration of their tendency. Now, whether it be thought ^
that each of these are connected with benevolence in our nature, and W
so may be considered as the same thing with it, or whether some of ' f
them be thought an inferior kind of virtues and vices, somewhat like I j
natural beauties and deformities, or lastly, plain exceptions to the £ »
► general rule, thus much however is certain, that the things now in- ly*

j stanced in, and numberless others, are approved or disapproved by
! mankind in general, in quite another view than as conducive to the 1)
happiness or misery of the World ^ J. ^ ^^-> UAi-&f.

A. . A.AL. \ H /„ X ^ - V t

160 butler's sermons.

conceive anything else to come in towards determining
whether he is to be ranked in a higher or lower class
of virtuous beings, but the higher or lower degree in
which that principle, and what is manifestly connected
with it, prevail in him.

That which we more strictly call piety, or the love
of God, and which is an essential part of a right tem-
per, some may perhaps imagine no way connected
with benevolence : yet surely they must be connected,
if there be indeed in being an object infinitely good.
■Human nature is so constituted that every good
affection implies the love of itself, i.e., becomes the
object of a new affection in the same person. Thus,
to be righteous, implies in it the love of righteous-
ness ; to be benevolent, the love of benevolence ; to
be good, the love of goodness ; whether this righteous-
ness, benevolence, or goodness be ^viewed as in our
own mind or another's, and the love of God as a
being perfectly good is the love of perfect goodness
#T contemplated in a being or person. Thus morality

I and religion, virtue and piety, will at last necessarily
coincide, run up into one and the same point, and
love will be in all senses the end of the commandment.

0 Almighty God, inspire us with this divine princi-
ple ; kill in us all the seeds of envy and ill-will ;
and help us, by cultivating within ourselves the
love of our neighbour, to improve in the love of

UPON THE LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR. 161

Thee. Thou hast placed us in various kindreds,
friendships, and relations, as the school of disci-
pline for our affections: help us, by the due exercise
of them, to improve to perfection ; till all partial
affection be lost in that entire universal one, and
thou, 0 God, shalt be all in all.

162 butler's sermons.

SEBMON XIII., XIV.

UPON THE LOYE OP GOD.

Matthew xxii. 37.

Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy
soul, and with all thy mind.

Everybody knows, you therefore need only just be
put in mind, that there is such a thing as having so
great horror of one extreme as to run insensibly and
of course into the contrary; and that a doctrine's
i having been a shelter for enthusiasm, or made to

• Jserve the purposes of superstition, is no proof of the
falsity of it : truth or right being somewhat real in
itself, and so not to be judged of by its liableness to
abuse, or by its supposed distance from or nearness to
error. It may be sufficient to have mentioned this in
general, without taking notice of the particular ex-
travagances which have been vented under the
pretence or endeavour of explaining the love of God ;
or how manifestly we are got into the contrary

— extreme, under the notion of a reasonable religion; so

very reasonable as to have nothing to do with the

heart and affections, if these words signify anything

but the faculty by Avhich we discern speculative truth.

By the love of God I would understand all those

UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. 163

regards, all those affections of mind which are due
immediately to Him from such a creature as man, and
which rest in Him as their end. As this does not
include servile fear, so neither will any other regards,
how reasonable soever, which respect anything out of
or besides the perfection of the Divine nature, come
into consideration here. But all fear is not excluded,
because His displeasure is itself the natural proper
object of fear. Reverence, ambition of His love and
approbation, delight in the hope or consciousness of it,
come likewise into this definition of the love of God,
because He is the natural object of all those affections
or movements of mind as really as He is the object of
the affection, which is in the strictest sense called
love; and all of them equally rest in Him as their
end. And they may all be understood to be implied
in these words of our Saviour, without putting any
force upon them : for He is speaking of the love of
God and our neighbour as containing the whole of
piety and virtue.

It is plain that the nature of man is so constituted
as to feel certain affections upon the sight or contem-
plation of certain objects. Now the very notion of
affection implies resting in its object as an end. And
the particular affection to good characters, reverence
and moral love of them, is natural to all those who have
any degree of real goodness in themselves. This will
be illustrated by thjTdescription of a perfect character

164 butler's sermons.

in a creature ; and by considering the manner in
which a good man in his presence would be affected
towards such a character. He would of course feel
the affections of love, reverence, desire of his approba-
tion, delight in the hope or consciousness of it. And
surely all this is applicable, and may be brought up to
that Being, who is infinitely more than an adequate
object of all those affections ; whom we are commanded
to love with all our heart, ivith all our soul, and with
I all cur mind. And of these regards towards Almighty
God some are more particularly suitable to and
becoming so imperfect a creature as man, in this
mortal state we are passing through ; and some of
them, and perhaps other exercises of the mind, will be
the employment and happiness of good men in a state
of perfection.

This is a general view of what the following dis-
course will contain. And it is manifest the subject is a
real one : there is nothing in it enthusiastical or un-
reasonable. And if it be indeed at all a subject, it is
one of the utmost importance.

As mankind have a faculty by which they discern
speculative truth, so we have various affections to-
wards external objects. Understanding and temper,
reason and affection, are as distinct ideas as reason
and hunger, and one would think could no more be
confounded. It is by reason that we get the ideas of
several objects of our affections ; but in these cases

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 165

reason and affection are no more the same than sight
of a particular object, and the pleasure or uneasiness
consequent thereupon, are the same. Now as reason
tends to and rests in the discernment of truth, the
object of it, so the very nature of affection consists in
tending towards, and resting in, its objects as an end.
"We do indeed often in common language say that
things are loved, desired, esteemed, not for themselves,
but for somewhat further, somewhat out of and
beyond them ; yet, in these cases, whoever will attend
will see that these things are not in reality the objects
of the affections, i.e. are not loved, desired, esteemed,
but the somewhat further and beyond them. If we

fhave no affections which rest in what are called their
objects, then what is called affection, love, desire, hope,
t in human nature, is only an uneasiness in being at rest ;
an unquiet disposition to action, progress, pursuit,
without end or meaning. But if there be any such
thing as delight in- the company of one person, rather
than of another ; whether in the way of friendship, or
mirth and entertainment, it is all one, if it be without
respect to fortune, honour, or increasing our stores of
knowledge, or anything beyond the present time ; here
is an instance of an affection absolutely res^ny in ifo

I object as its eml, and being gratified iu the same way
as the appetite of hunger is satisfied with food. Yet
nothing is more common than to hear it asked, what
advantage a man hath in such a course, suppose of

166 butler's sermons.

study, particular friendships, or in any other ; nothing-,
I say, is more common than to hear such a question

Iput in a way which supposes no gain, advantage, or
interest, but as a means to somewhat further : and if
Iso, then there is no such thing at all as real interest,
gain, or advantage. Tiiis_is the same absurdity with
respect to life as an infinite series of effects without
a cause is in speculation. The gain, advantage, or

1 interest consists in the delight itself, arising from
such a faculty's having its object : neither is there
any such thing as happiness or enjoyment but what
arises from hence. The pleasures of hope and of
reflection are not exceptions : the former being only
this happiness anticipated ; the latter the same happi-
ness enjoyed over again after its time. And even the
general expectation of future happiness can afford

f satisfaction only as it is a present object to the
principle of self-love.

It was doubtless intended that life should be very
much a pursuit to the gross of mankind. But this is
carried so much farther than is reasonable that what
gives immediate satisfaction, i.e. our present interest,
is scarce considered as our interest at all. It is in-
ventions which have only a remote tendency towards
enjoyment, perhaps but a remote tendency towards
gaining the means only of enjoyment, which are
chiefly spoken of as useful to the world. And though
his way of thinking were just with respect to the

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 167

imperfect state we are now in, where we know so
little of satisfaction without satiety, yet it must be
guarded against when we are considering the happi-
ness of a state of perfection ; which happiness being
enjoyment and not hope, must necessarily consist in
this, that our affections have their objects, and rest
in those objects as an end, i.e. be satisfied with *^"
them. This will further appear in the sequel of this
discourse.

Of the several affections, or inward sensations,
which particular objects excite in man, there are
some, the having of which implies the love of them,
when they are reflected upon.* This cannot be said
of all our affections, principles, and motives of action.
It were ridiculous to assert that a man upon reflec-
tion hath the same kind of approbation of the appetite
of hunger or the passion of fear as he hath of good-
will to his fellow-creatures. To be a just, a good,
a righteous man, plainly carries with it a peculiar
affection to or love of justice, goodness, righteousness, *
when these principles are the objects of contemplation.
Now if a man approves of, or hath an affection to, any
principle in and for itself, incidental things allowed

* St. Austin observes, Amor ipse ordinate amandus est, quo bene
amatur quod amandum est, ut sit in nobis virtus qua vivitur bene,
i e. The affection which we rightly have for what is lovely must ordi-
nate justly, in due manner and proportion, become the object of a
new affection, or be itself beloved, in order to our being endued w'/h
that virtue which is the principle of a good life. Civ. Dei, 1. xv. c. 22.

168 butler's sermons.

for, it will be the same whether he views it in his own
mind or in another ; in himself or in his neighbour.
This is the account of our approbation of, or moral
love and affection to good characters ; which cannot
but be in those who have any degrees of real goodness
in themselves, and who discern and take notice of the
same principle in others.

From observation of what passes within ourselves,
our own actions, and the behaviour of others, the
mind may carry on its reflections as far as it pleases ;
much beyond what we experience in ourselves, or
discern in our fellow creatures. It may go on and
consider goodness as become a uniform continued
principle of action, as conducted by reason, and form-
ing a temper and character absolutely good and
perfect, which is in a higher sense excellent, and
proportionably tho object of love and approbation.

Let us then suppose a creature perfect according to
his created nature — let his form be human, and his
capacities no more than equal to those of the chief of
men — goodness shall bo his proper character, with
wisdom to direct it, and power within some certain
determined sphere of action to exert it : but goodness
must be the simple actuating principle within him ;
this being the moral quality which is amiable, or
the immediate object of love as distinct from other
affections of approbation. Here then is a finite object
for our mind to tend towards, to exercise itself

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 169

upon: a creature, perfect according to his capacity,
fixed, steady, equally unmoved by weak pity or more
weak fury and resentment ; forming the justest scheme
of conduct ; going on undisturbed in the execution of
it, through the several methods of severity and reward,
towards his end, namely, the general happiness of all
with whom he hath to do, as in itself right and valu-
able. This character, though uniform in itself, in its
principle, yet exerting itself in different ways, or
considered in different views, may by its appearino-
variety move different affections. Thus, the severity
of justice would not affect us in the same way as an
act of mercy. The adventitious qualities of wisdom
and power may be considered in themselves; and
even the strength of mind which this immovable
goodness supposes may likewise be viewed as an
object of contemplation distinct from the goodness
itself. Superior excellence of any kind, as well as
superior wisdom and power, is the object of awe
and reverence to all creatures, whatever their moral
character be; but so far as creatures of the lowest
rank were good, so far the view of this character,
as simply good, must appear amiable to them, be
the object of, or beget love. Further suppose we
were conscious that this superior person so far
approved of us that we had nothing servilely to
fear from him ; that he was really our friend, and kind
and good to us in particular, as he had occasionally

170 butler's sermons.

intercourse with us : we must be other creatures
than we are, or we could not but feel the same kind
of satisfaction and enjoyment (whatever would be
the degree of it) from this higher acquaintance and
friendship as we feel from common ones, the inter-
course being real and the persons equally present in
both cases. We should have a more ardent desire to
be approved by his better judgment, and a satisfaction
in that approbation of the same sort with what would
be felt in respect to common persons, or be wrought
in us by their presence.

Let us now raise the character, and suppose this
creature, for we are still going on with the suppos-
ition of a creature, our proper guardian and governor;
that we were in a progress of being towards somewhat
further ; and that his scheme of government was too
vast for our capacities to comprehend : remembering
still that he is perfectly good, and our friend as well
as our governor. Wisdom, power, goodness, acci-
dentally viewed anywhere, would inspire reverence,
awe, love; and as these affections would be raised
in higher or lower degrees in proportion as we had
occasionally more or less intercourse with the creature
endued with those qualities, so this further con-
sideration and knowledge that he was our proper
guardian and governor would much more bring these
objects and qualities home to ourselves; teach us
they had a greater respect to us in particular, that

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 171

we had a higher interest in that wisdom and power
and goodness. We should, with joy, gratitude, re-
verence, love, trust, and dependence, appropriate the
character, as what we had a right in, and make our
boast in such our relation to it. And the conclusion
of the whole would be that we should refer ourselves
implicitly to him, and cast ourselves entirely upon
him. As the whole attention of life should be to
obey his commands, so the highest enjoyment of it
must arise from the contemplation of this character,
and our relation to it, from a consciousness of his
favour and approbation, and from the exercise of
those affections towards him which could not but be
raised from his presence. A Being who hath these
attributes, who stands in this relation, and is thus
sensibly present to the mind, must necessarily be the
object of these affections : there is as real a corre-
spondence between them as between the lowest appe-
tite of sense and its object.

That this Being is not a creature, but the Almighty
God ; that He is of infinite power and wisdom and
goodness, does not render Him less the object of re-
verence and love than He would be if He had those
attributes only in a limited degree. The Being who
made us, and upon whom we entirely depend, is the
object of some regards. He hath given us certain
affections of mind, which correspond to wisdom,
power, goodness, i. e. which are raised upon view of

172 butler's sermons.

those qualities. If then He be really wise, powerful,
good, He is the natural object of those affections
which He hath endued us with, and which correspond
to those attributes. " That He is infinite in power, per-
fect in wisdom and goodness, makes no alteration, but
only that He is the obj ct of those affections raised to
the highest pitch. He is not, indeed, to be discerned
by any of our senses. I go forward, but He is not
there ; and backward, but I cannot perceive Him : on
the left hand where He doth work, but I cannot behold
Him : He hideth Himself on the right hand, that I can-
not see Him, Oh that I Tcnew where I might find Him !
that I might come even to His seat ! * But is He then
afar off ? does He not fill heaven and earth with His
presence P The presence of our fellow-creatures affects
our senses, and our senses give us the knowledge of
their presence ; which hath different kinds of influence
upon us — love, joy, sorrow, restraint, encouragement,
reverence. However, this influence is not immediately
from our senses, but from that knowledge. Thus
suppose a person neither to see nor hear another, not
to know by any of his senses, but yet certainly to
know, that another was with him ; this knowledge
might, and in many cases would, have one or more of
the effects before mentioned. It is therefore not only
reasonable, but also natural, to be affected with a
presence, though it be not the object of our senses ;
* Job xxii.

UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. 173

whether it be, or he not, is merely an accidental
circumstance, which needs not come into consideration :
it is the certainty that lie is with us, and we with him.
Which hath the influence. We consider persons then
as present, not only when they are within reach of our
senses, hut also when we are assured by any other
means that they arc within such a nearness; nay, if
they are not, we can recall them to our mind, and be
moved towards them as present; and must He, who is
so much more intimately with us, that in Him we live
and move and have our being, be thought too distant to
be the object of our affections ? We own and feel the
force of amiable and worthy qualities in our felloe
creatures ; and can we be insensible to the contempla-
tion of perfect goodness? Do we reverence the
shadows of greatness here below, are we solicitous
about honour and esteem and the opinion of the world,
and shall we not feel the same with respect to Him
whose are wisdom and power in the original, who is the
God of judgment by whom actions are weighed ? Thus
love, reverence, desire of esteem, every faculty, every
affection, tends towards and is employed about its
respective object in common cases: and must the
exercise of them be suspended with regard to Him
alone who is an object, an infinitely more than
adequate object, to our most exalted faculties ; Him, of
whom, and through whom, and to whom are all things ?
As we cannot remove from this earth, or change our

174 butler's sermons.

general business on it, so neither can we alter oar real
nature. Therefore no exercise of the mind can be re-
commended, but only the exercise of those faculties you
are conscious of. Religion does not demand new
affections, but only claims the direction of those you
already have, those affections you daily feel; though
unhappily confined to objects not altogether unsuitable
but altogether unequal to them. We only represent to
.you the, higher, the adequate objects of those very
faculties and affections. Let the man of ambition go
on still to consider disgrace as the greatest evil,
honour as his chief good. But disgrace in whose
estimation ? Honour in whose judgment ? This is
the only question. If shame, and delight in esteem, be
spoken of as real, as any settled ground of pain or
pleasure, both these must be in proportion to the
supposed wisdom, and worth of him by whom we are
contemned or esteemed. Must it then be thought
enthusiastical to speak of a sensibility of this sort
which shall have respect to an unerring judgment, to
infinite wisdom, when we are assured this unerring
judgment, this infinite wisdom does observe upon our
actions ?

It is the same with respect to the love of God in the
strictest and most confined sense. "We only offer and
represent the highest object of an affection supposed
already in your mind. Some degree of goodness must
be previously supposed ; this always implies the love

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 175

of itself, an affection to goodness : the highest, the
adequate object of this affection, is perfect goodness ;
which therefore we are to love with all our heart, with
all our soul, and with all our strength. " Must we ^
then, forgetting our own interest, as it were go out of
ourselves, and love God for His own sake ? " ISTo more
forget your own interest, no more go out of yourselves,
than when you prefer one place, one prospect, the con-
versation of one man to that of another. Does not
every affection necessarily imply that the object of it
be itself loved ? If it be not it is not the object of
the affection. Tou may, and ought if you can, but it
is a great mistake to think you can love or fear or hate
anything, from consideration that such love or fear
or hatred may be a means of obtaining good or avoid-
ing evil. But the question whether we ought to love
God for His sake or for our own being a mere mis-
take in language, the real question which this is mis-
taken for will, I suppose, be answered by observing
that the goodness of God already exercised towards us,
our present dependence upon Him, and our expectation
of future benefits, ought, and have a natural tendency,
to beget in us the affection of gratitudo, and greater
love towards Him, than the same goodness exercised
towards others ; were it only for this reason, that every
affection is moved in proportion to the sense we have of
the object of it ; and we cannot but have a more lively
sense of goodness when exercised towards ourselves

176 butler's sermons.

than when exercised towards others. I added expecta-
tion of future benefits because the ground of that
expectation is present goodness.

Thus Almighty God is the natural object of the
several affections, love, reverence, fear, desire of ap-
probation. For though He is simply one, yet we
cannot but consider Him in partial and different
views. He is in himself one uniform Being, and for
ever the same without variableness or shadow of
turning ; but His infinite greatness, His goodness, His
wisdom, are different objects to our mind. To which
is to be added, that from the changes in our own
characters, together with His unchangeableness, we
cannot but consider ourselves as more or less the
objects of His approbation, and really be so. For if
He approves what is good, He cannot, merely from
the unchangeableness of His nature, approve what is
evil. Hence must arise more various movements of
mind, more different kinds of affections. And this
greater variety also is just and reasonable in such
creatures as we are, though it respects a Being
simply one, good and perfect. As some of these
affections are most particularly suitable to so im-
perfect a creature as man in this mortal state we
are passing through, so there may be other exer-
cises of mind, or some of these in higher degrees,
our employment and happiness in a state of per-
fection

UPON THE LOVE OP GOD. 177

SERMON XIV.

Consider then our ignorance, the imperfection
of our nature, our virtue, and our condition in this
world, with respect to an infinitely good and just
Being, our Creator and Governor, and you will see
what religious affections of mind are most par-
ticularly suitable to this mortal state we are passing
through.

Though we are not affected with anything so
strongly as what we discern with our senses, and
though our nature and condition require that we be
much taken up about sensible things, yet our reason
convinces us that God is present with us, amT^^sce.
and feel the effects of His. goodness : He is therefore
the object of some regards. The imperfection of our
virtue, joined with the consideration of His absolute
rectitude or holiness, will scarce permit that perfection
of love which entirely casts out all fear : yet goodness
is the object of love to all creatures who have any de-
gree of it themselves ; and consciousness of a real en-
deavour to approve ourselves to Him, joined with the
consideration of His goodness, as it quite excludes
servile dread and horror, so it is plainly a reasonable
ground for hope of His favour. Neither fear nor hope
nor love then are excluded, and one or another of these
will prevail, according to the different views we have
of God, and ought toprevai], according to the changes

178 butler's sermons.

we find in our own character. There is a temper of
mind made up of, or which follows from all three, fear,
hope, love — namely, resignation to the Divine will,
which is the general temper belonging to this state ;
which ought to be the habitual frame of our mind and
heart, and to be exercised at proper seasons more dis-
tinctly, in acts of devotion.

Resignation to the will of God is the whole of piety.
It includes in it all that is good, and is a source of the
most settled quiet and composure of mind. There is
the general principle of submission in our nature.
Man is not so constituted as to desire things, and be
uneasy in the want of them, in proportion to their
known value : many other considerations come in to
determine the degrees of desire ; particularly whether
the advantage we take a view of be within the sphere
of our rank. Whoever felt uneasiness upon observ-
ing any of the advantages brute creatures have over us ?
And yet it is plain they have several. It is the same
with respect to advantages belonging to creatures of a
superior order. Thus, though we see a thing to be
highly valuable, yet that it does not belong to our con-
dition of being is sufficient to suspend our desires after
it, to make us rest satisfied without such advantage.
Now there is just the same reason for quiet resigna-
tion in the want of everything equally unattainable,
and out of our reach in particular, though others of
our species be possessed of it. All this may be applied

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 179

to the whole of life; to positive inconveniences as
well as wants, not indeed to the sensations of
pain and sorrow, but to all the uneasinesses of reflec-
tion, murmuring, and discontent. Thus is human
nature formed to compliance, yielding, submission of
temper. We find the principles of it within us ;
and every one exercises it towards some objects or
other, i.e. feels it with regard to some persons
and some circumstances. Now this is an excel-
lent foundation of a reasonable and religious resig-
nation. Nature teaches and inclines as to take up
with our lot ; the consideration that the course of
things is unalterable hath a tendency to quiet the
mind under it, to beget a submission of temper to it.
But when we can add that this unalterable course is
appointed and continued by infinite wisdom and good-
ness, how absolute should be our submission, how
entire our trust and dependence !

This would reconcile us to our condition, prevent
all the supernumerary troubles arising from imagina-
tion, distant fears, impatience — all uneasiness, except
that which necessarily arises from the calamities
themselves we may be under. How many of our
cares should we by this means be disburdened of !
Cares not properly our own, how apt soever they
may be to intrude upon us, and we to admit them;
the anxieties of expectation, solicitude about success
and disappointment, which in truth are none of our

180 butler's seemoxs.

concern. How open to every gratification would
that mind be which was clear of these encum-
brances !

Our resignation to tho will of God may be said to
be perfect when our will is lost and resolved up
into His: when we rest in His will as our end, as
-* being itself most just and right and good. And
* where is the impossibility of such an affection to
4 what is just, and right, and good, such a loyalty of
/heart to the Governor of the universe as shall pre-
vail over all sinister indirect desires of our own ?
Neither is this at bottom anything more than faith
^ and honesty and fairness of mind — in a more enlarged
sense inHeed than those words are commonly used.
And as, in common cases, fear and hope and other
passions are raised in . us by their respective objects,
4~so this submission of heart and soul and mind, this
religious resignation, would be as naturally produced
by our having just conceptions of Almighty God, and
a real sense of His presence with us. In how low a
degree soever this temper usually prevails amongst
men, yet it is a temper right in itself : it is what we
owe to our Creator : it is particularly suitable to our
mortal condition, and what we should endeavour after
for our own sates in our passage through such a world
as this, where is nothing upon which we can rest or
depend, nothing but what we are liable to be deceived
and disappointed in. Thus we might acquaint our-

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 181

with God, and be at peace. This is piety and
religion in the strictest sense, considered as a habit of
mind : an habitual sense of God's presence with us ;
being affected towards Him, as present, in the manner
His superior nature requires from such a creature as
man : this is to walk with God.

Little more need be said of devotion or religious
worship than that it is this temper exerted into act.
The nature of it consists in the actual exercise of
those affections towards God which are supposed
habitual in good men. He is always equally present
with us : but we are so much taken up with sensible
things that, Lo, He goeth by us, and we see Him not :
He passeth on also, but we perceive Him not* De-
votion is retirement from the world He has made
to Him alone : it is to withdraw from the avocations
of sense, to employ our attention wholly upon Him ,
as upon an object actually present, to yield ourselves
up to the influence of the Divine presence, and to
give full scope to the affections of gratitude, love,
reverence, trust, and dependence ; of which infinite
power, wisdom, and goodness is the natural and only
adequate object. We may apply to the whole of
devotion those words of the Son of Sirach, When you
glorify the Lord, exalt Him as much as you can ; for
even yet will He far exceed : and when you exalt Him,
put forth all your strength, and be not weary ; for you
* Job ix. 2.

182 butler's sermons.

can never go far enough* Our most raised affections
of every kind cannot but fall short and be dispropor-
tionate when an infinite being is the object of them.
This is the highest exercise and employment of mind
that a creature is capable of. As this divine service
and worship is itself absolutely due to God, so also is
it necessary in order to a further end, to keep alive
I upon our minds a sense of His authority, a sense that
in our ordinary behaviour amongst men we act under
him as our Governor and Judge.

Thus you see the temper of mind respecting God
which is particularly suitable to a state of imperfec-
tion, to creatures in a progress of being towards some-
what further.

Suppose now this something further attained, that
wo were arrived at it, what a perception will it be
to see and know and feel that our trust was not vain,
our dependence not groundless? That the issue,
event, and consummation came out such as fully to
justify and answer that resignation ? If the obscure
view of the divine perfection which we have in this
world ought in just consequence to beget an entire
resignation, what will this resignation be exalted
into when we shall see face to face, and know as we
are known ? If we cannot form any distinct notion of
that perfection of the love of God which casts out
all fear, of that enjoyment of Him which will be

* Ecclus. xliii. 30.

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 183

the happiness of good men hereafter, the considera-
tion of our wants and capacities of happiness, and that
He will be an adequate supply to them, must serve us
instead of such distinct conception of the particular
happiness itself.

Let us then suppose a man entirely disengaged
from business and pleasure, sitting down alone and
at leisure, to reflect upon himself and his own con-
dition of being. He would immediately feel that he
was by no means complete of himself, but totally
insufficient for his own happiness. One may venture
to affirm that every man hath felt this, whether he
hath again reflected upon it or not. It is feeling
this deficiency, that they are unsatisfied with them-
selves, which makes men look out for assistance from
abroad, and which has given rise to various kinds of
amusements, altogether needless any otherwise than
as they serve to fill up the blank spaces of time, and
so hinder their feeling this deficiency, and being un-
easy with themselves. Now, if these external things
we take up with were really an adequate supply
to this deficiency of human nature, if by their means
our capacities and desires were all satisfied and
filled up, then it might be truly said that we had
found out the proper happiness of man, and so might
sit down satisfied, and be at rest in the enjoyment
of it. But if it appears that the amusements which
men usually pass their time in are so far from coming

184 butler's sermons.

up to or answering our notions and desires of hap-
piness or good that they are really no more than what
they are commonly called, somewhat to pass away the
time, i.e. somewhat which serves to turn us aside from,
and prevent our attending to, this our internal poverty
and want; if they serve only, or chiefly, to suspend
instead of satisfying our conceptions and desires of
happiness ; if the want remains, and we have found
out little more than barely the means of making it less
sensible ; then are we still to seek for somewhat to be
an adequate supply to it. It is plain that there is a
capacity in the nature of man which neither riches nor
honours nor sensual gratifications, nor anything in this
world, can perfectly fill up or satisfy: there is a deeper
and more essential want than any of these things
can be the supply of. Yet surely there is a possi-
bility of somewhat which may fill up all our
capacities of happiness, somewhat in which our
souls may find rest, somewhat which may be to us
that satisfactory good we are inquiring after. But it
cannot be anything which is valuable only as it
tends to some further end. Those therefore who
have got this world so much into their hearts as not
to be able to consider happiness as consisting in any-
thing but property and possessions — which are only
valuable as the means to somewhat else — cannot have
the least glimpse of the subject before us, which is
the end, not the means ; the thing itself, not some-

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 185

what in order to it. But if you can lay aside that
general, confused, undeterminate notion of happiness,
as consisting in such possessions, and fix in your
thoughts that it really can consist in nothing but in
a faculty's having its proper object, you will clearly
see that in the coolest way of consideration, without
either the heat of fanciful enthusiasm or the warmth
of real devotion, nothing is more certain than that an
infinite Being may Himself be, if He pleases, the supply
to all the capacities of our nature. All the common
enjoyments of life are from the faculties He hath
endued us with and the objects He hath made suitable
to them. He may Himself be to us infinitely more
than all these ; He may be to us all that we want. As
our understanding can contemplate itself, and our
affections be exercised upon themselves by reflection,
so may each be employed in the same manner upon
any other mind; and since the Supreme Mind, the
Author and Cause of all things, is the highest possible
object to Himself, He maybe an adequate supply to all
the faculties of our souls, a subject to our understand-
ing, and an object to our affections.

Consider then: when we shall have put off this
mortal body, when we shall be divested of sensual
appetites, and those possessions which are now the
means of gratification shall be of no avail, when
this restless scene of business and vain pleasures,
which now diverts us» from ourselves, shall be all

\it .

7U*Z* fiu^v

•

186 butler's sermons.-

over, we, our proper self, shall still remain : fce shall
still continue the same creatures we are, with wants to
be supplied and capacities of happiness. We must I
have faculties of perception, though not sensitive
ones ; and pleasure or uneasiness from our perceptions,
as now we have.

There are certain ideas which we express by the

words order, harmony, proportion, beauty, the furthest

removed from anything isensual. Now what is there in

those intellectual images, forms, or ideas, which

begets that approbation, love, delight, and even rapture,

which is seen in some persons' faces upon having those

objects present to their minds ? — " Mere enthusiasm ! "

— Be it what it will : there are objects, works of nature

, and of art, which all mankind have delight from quite

distinct from their affording gratification to sensual

appetites, and from quite another view of them than

as being for their interest and further advantage. The

faculties from which we are capable of these pleasures,

I and the pleasures themselves, are as natural, and as

much to be accounted for, as any sensual appetite

whatever, and the pleasure from its gratification.

Words to be sure are wanting upon this subject ; to

/ say that everything of grace and beauty throughout

; the whole of nature, everything excellent and amiable

', shared in differently lower degrees by the whole

creation, meet in the Author and Cause of all things,

this is an inadequate and perhaps improper way of

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 187

speaking of the Divine nature ; but it is manifest that
absolute rectitude, the perfection of being, must be in
all senses, and in every respect, the highest object to
the mind.

In this world it is only the effects of wisdom and
power and greatness which we discern; it is not im-
possible that hereafter the qualities themselves in the
supreme Being may be the immediate object of con-
templation. "What amazing wonders are opened to
view by late improvements ! What an object is the
universe to a creature, if there be a creature who can
comprehend its system ! But it must be an infinitely
higher exercise of the understanding to view the
scheme of it in that mind which projected it before its
foundations were laid. And surely we have meaning
to the words when we speak of going further, and
viewing, not only this system in His mind, but the
wisdom and intelligence itself from whence it pro-
ceeded. The same may be said of power. But since
wisdom and power are not God, He is a wise, a power-
ful Being ; the divine nature may therefore be a further
object to the understanding. It is nothing to observe
that our senses give us but an imperfect knowledge of
things : effects themselves, if we knew them thoroughly,
would give us but imperfect notions of wisdom and
power ; much less of His being in whom they reside.
I am not speaking of any fanciful notion of seeing all
things in God, but only representing to you how

188 butler's sermons.

much a higher object to the understanding an infinite
Being Himself is than the things which He has made ;
and this is no more than saying that the Creator is
superior to the works of His hands.

This may be illustrated by a low example. Suppose
a machine, the sight of which would raise, and dis-
coveries in its contrivance gratify, our curiosity : the
real delight in this case would arise from its being
the effect of skill and contrivance. This skill in the
mind of the artificer would be a higher object, if we
had any senses or ways to discern it. For, observe,
the contemplation of that principle, faculty, or power
which produced any effect must be a higher exercise
of the understanding than the contemplation of the
effect itself. The cause must be a higher object to
the mind than the effect.

But whoever considers distinctly what the delight of
knowledge is will see reason to be satisfied that it
cannot be the chief good of man: all this, as it is
applicable, so it was mentioned with regard to the
attribute of goodness. I say goodness. Our being
and all our enjoyments are the effects of it : just men
bear its resemblance ; but how little do we know of
the orignal, of what it is in itself ? Recall what was
before observed concerning the affection to moral
characters — which, in how low a degree soever, yet
is plainly natural to man, and the most excellent part
of his nature. Suppose this improved, as it may be

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD.

improved, to any degree whatever, in the spirits of just
men made perfect ; and then suppose that they had a
real view of that r^hteous7iess which is an everlasting
righteousness, of the conformity of the Divine will to
the law of truth in which the moral attributes of God
consist, of that goodness in the sovereign Mind which
gave birth to the universe. Add, what will be true of
all good men hereafter, a consciousness of having an
interest in what they are contemplating — suppose them
able to say, This God is our God for ever and ever.
"Would they be any longer to seek for what was their
chief happiness, their final good ? Could the utmost
stretch of their capacities look further ? Would not
infinite perfect goodness be their very end, the last
end and object of their affections, beyond which they
could neither have nor desire, beyond which they
could not form a wish or thought ?

Consider wherein that presence of a friend consists
which lias often so strong an effect as wholly to
possess the mind, and entirely suspend all other
affections and regards, and which itself affords the
highest satisfaction and enjoyment. He is within
reach of the senses. Now as our capacities of per-
ception improve we shall have, perhaps by some
faculty entirely new, a perception of God's presence
with us in a nearer and stricter way, since it is certain
He is more intimately present with us than anything
else can be. Proof of the existence aud presence of

190 butler's sermons.

any being is quite different from the immediate per-
ception, the consciousness of it. What then will be
the joy of heart which His presence and the light of
His countenance, who is the life of the universe, will
inspire good men with when they shall have a sensa-
tion that He is the sustainer of their being, that they
exist in Him; when they shall feel His influence to cheer
and enliven and support their frame, in a manner of
which we have now no conception ? He will be in a
literal sense their strength and their portion for ever.

When we speak of things so much above our com-
prehension as the employment and happiness of a
future state, doubtless it behoves us to speak with all
modesty and distrust of ourselves. But the Scripture
represents the happiness of that state under the notions
of seeing God, seeing Him, as Tie is, knowing as we are
known, and seeing face to face. These words are not
general or undetermined, but express a particular de-
terminate happiness. And I will be bold to say that
nothing can account for or come up to these expressions
but only this, that God Himself will be an object to
our faculties, that He Himself will be our happiness as
distinguished from the enjoyments of the present
state, which seem to arise not immediately from Him
but from the objects He has adapted to give us delight.

To conclude : Let us suppose a person tired with
care and sorrow and the repetition of vain delights
which fill up the round of life ; sensible that everything

UPON THE LOVE OF GOD. 191

here below in its best estate is altogether vanity.
Suppose him to feel that deficiency of human nature
before taken notice of, and to be convinced that God
alone was the adequate supply to it. What could be
more applicable to a good man in this state of mind,
or better express his present wants and distant hopes,
his passage through this world as a progress towards a
state of perfection, than the following passages in the
devotions of the royal prophet ? They are plainly in a
higher and more proper sense applicable to this than
they could be to anything else. I have seen an end of
all 'perfection. Whom have I in heaven but Thee ?
And there is none upon earth that I desire in compari-
son of Thee. My jlcsh and my heart faileth : but God
is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever.
Like as the hart desircth the water-brooks, so longeth
my soul after Thee, 0 God. My soul is athirst for
God, yea, even for the living God : when shall I come
to appear before Him ? How excellent is Thy loving-
kindness, 0 God I and the children of men shall put
their trust under the shadow of Thy wings. They shall
be satisfied with the plenteousness of Thy house : and
Thou shalt give them drink of Thy pleasures, as out of
the river. For with Thee is the well of life : and in Thy
light shall we see light. Blessed is the man whom Thou
choosest, and receivest unto Thee : he shall dwell in Thy
court, and shall be satisfied with the pleasures of Thy
house, even of Thy holy temple. Blessed is the people,

192 butler's sermons.

0 Lord, that can rejoice in Thee : they shall walk in
the light of Thy countenance. Their delight shall be
daily in Thy name, and in Thy righteousness shall they
make their boast. For Thou art the glory of their
strength : and in Thy lovingkindness they shall be
exalted. As for me, I will behold Thy presence in
righteousness : and when I awake up after Thy like-
ness, I shall be satisfied with it. Thou shalt shew me
the path of life ; in Thy presence is the fulness of joy,
and at Thy right hand there is pleasure for evermore.

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