ing and short-sighted appetites. The weakness of the | social affections and the strength of the private de- j sires properly constitute scllishness, a vice utterh' at variance with the happiness of him who harbors it, and, as such, condemned by self-love. There are as few who attain the greatest satisfaction to themselves as who do the greatest good to others. It is absurd to say with some that the pleasure of benevolence is self- ish because it is felt by self. Understanding and rea- soning are acts of self, for no man can think bj' proxy; but no one ever called them selfish. A\'hy ? Evi- dently because thcv do not regard self. Precisely the same rule applies to benevolence. Such an argument is a gross confusion of self, as it is a subject of feeling or thought, with self considered as the object of either. It is no more just to refer the private appetites to self- love because they commonly promote happiness, than it would be to refer them to self-hatred in those fre- quent cases where their gratification obstructs it. But, besides the private or public desires, and besides the calm regard to our own general welfare, there is a principle in man, in its nature supreme over all oth- ers. This natural supremacy belongs to the faculty which survey's, approves, or disapproves the several affections of our minds and actions of our lives. As self-love is superior to the private passions, so con- science is superior to the whole of man. Passion im- plies nothing but an inclination to follow it, and in that respect passion differs only in force. But no no- tion can be formed of the principle of reflection or con- science which does not comprehend judgment, direc- tion, superintendency. Authority over all other prin- ciples of action is a constituent part of the idea of con- science, and cannot be separated from it. Had it strength as it has right, it woiild govern the world. The passions would have their power but according to their nature, which is to be sid)ject to conscience. Hence we may understand the purpose at which the ancients, perhaps confusedly, aimed when they laid it down that virtue consisted in following nature. It is neither easy, nor, for the main object of the moralist, important to render the doctrines of the ancients by modern language. If Butler returns to this phrase too often, it was rather from the remains of undis- tinguishing reverence for anticpiity than because he could deem its emploj'ment important to his own opin- ions. The tie which holds together religion and mo- ralit}'' is, in the system of Butler, somewhat different from the common representations, Init not less close. Conscience, or the faculty of approving or disapprov- ing, necessarily constitutes the bond of union. Set- ting out from the belief of theism, and combining it, as he had entitled himself to do, with the reality of conscience, he could not avoid discovering that the being who possessed the highest moral qualities is the object of the highest moral affections. He contem- plates the Deity through the moral nature of man. In the case of a being who is to be perfectly loved, 'good- ness nnist be the sinqde actuating principle within him, this being the moral qualit}' which is the imme- diate object of love.' 'The highest, the adecjuate ob- ject of this affection, is perfect goodness, which, there- fore, we are to love with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our strength.' 'AVe should refer ourselves implicitly to him, and oast ourselves entirely upon him. The whole attention of life should be to obey his commands' (Sermon xiii. On the Love of God). Moral distinctions are thus presupposed before a step can be made towards religion : virtue leads to piety ; God is to be loved, because goodness is the object of love ; and it is only after the mind rises through hu- man morality to divine perfection tliat all the virtues and ilutics are seen to hans from the throne of God" (Mackintosh, Iliiitori/ of Ethical PhUosojjhy., 116 sq.).
To the same school lielong Hutchesdn (f 1747), who taught that moral good is simph- what the word itself expresses, which is not explicable by any other phrase.
From this he argues that moral good must be perceived by a sense, because the senses alone are percipient of simple qualities (see his Inquiry into the Oric/inal of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue, Glasgow, 1725, and often). Hume (^Inquiry concei-ning the Principles of Moixds) asserts, indeed, that general utility constitutes a uni- form ground of moral distinctions, and that reason judges of the utilitj' of actions. But he asserts also that we approve of good and disapprove of evil in vir- tue of a primary sentiment of our nature (distinct from self-love), which he calls benevolence or human- ity, but which is identical with conscience, or the moral sense. As to the idea of moral obligation, he makes it simply a judgment of the understanding that happiness flows from obedience to the moral faculty rather than from obedience to self-love. For the doc- trines of Mackintosh, we must refer our readers to his admirable sketch (so often cited in this article) of the IJistory of Ethical Philosnjjhy.
Of the so-called Rational school, the distinctive characteristic is " that it considers the idea of good to be an a priori conception of reason, in which the idea of obligation is necessarily and essentialh- implied. As to the nature of the idea itself, two opinions have been held, viz. 1, that it is simple and immediate ; 2, that it derives its explanation and authority from some higher notion of the intellect. The most distinguish- ed representatives of the latter opinion are Clarke and Wollaston, while the former has found able advocates in Cudworth, Price, and Stewart" (Brande, I. c).