The analogy of religion, natural and revealed, to the constitution and course of nature. : To which are added, two brief dissertations: I. On personal identity: and II. On the nature of virtue. : Together with A charge, delivered to the clergy of the diocese of Durham, at the primary visitation, in the year 1751.

Front matter

l^ ^'iVjLHi f'

DUKE

UNIVERSITY

Preface

'•■ AVhen t consid* how light a matter very often subjects the best established charac " ters to tlie suspicions of posterity, posterity often as malignant to virtue as the age " that saw it was envious of its glory; and how i-eady a remote age is to catch at a low " revived slander, which the times that brought it foitli saw despised and forgotten " almos! in its birth; I cannot but think it a matter that deserves attention." — Letter to the Editor of the Letters on the Spirit of Patriotism, &c. by Bishop WAnBUBTOK. See his Works, vol. vii. p. 547,

THE charge to the Clergy of the Diocese of Durham, which is subjoined to the present volume, was printed and published in the year 1751, by the learned Prelate, whose name it bears; and, together with the Sermons and Analogy of the same writer, both too well known to need a more particular description, completes the collection of his works. It has long been considered as a matter of curiosity, on account of its scarceness; and it is equally curious on other accounts, its subject, and the calumny to which it gave occasion, of representing the Author as addicted to superstition, as inclined to popery, and as dying in the communion of the church of Rome. The improved edition of Biographia Britannica, now publishing under the care of Dr. Kippis, having unavoidably brought this calumny again into notice; it may not be unseasonable to offer a few reflections in this place, by way of obviating any impressions that may hence arise, to the disadvantage of so great a character as that of the late Bishop Butler; referring those who desire a more particular account of his life, to the third volume of the same entertaining work, printed in 1784. Art. Butler [Joseph.)

I. The principal design of the Bishop, in his Charge, is to exhort his Clergy to " to do their part towards reviving a practical sense of religion amongst the people committed to their care;" and, as one way of effecting this, to " instruct them in the importance of external religion,^^ or the usefulness of outward observances in promoting inward piety. Now, from the compound nature of man, consisting of two parts, the body and the mind, together with the influence which these are found to have on one another, it follows, that the-ceiigious regards of such a creature ought to be so framed, as to beia some way properly accommodated to botfi. A religion which is pur.ely spiritual, stripped of every thing that may affect the senses, aod considered only as a divine philosophy of the mind, if it do not mount up into enthusiasm, as has frequently been the case, oft^n sinks, after & B few short fervors, into indiffererce: an abstracted invisible object, like that which naturai religion oiTers, ceases to move or interest the heart; aur' something further is wanting to bring it nearer, and render it more present to our view, than merely an intellectual contemplation. On the other hand when, in girder to remedy this inconvenience, recourse is had to instituted forms and ritual injunctions; there is always danger lest men be tempted to rest entirely on these, and persuade ihemselves that a painful attention to such observances will attone for the \/ant of genuine piety and virtue. Yet surely there is a way of steering safely between these two extreioes; of so consulting both the parts of our constitution, that the body and the mind may concur in rendering our religious services acceptable to God, and at the same time useful to ourselves.

And what way cau this be. but precisely that which is recommended in the charge; such a cultivation of outward as well as inward religion, that from both may result, what is the point chiefty to be labored after, and at all events to be secured, a correspondent temper and behavior; or, in other words, such an application of the forms of godliness as my be subservient in promoting the power and spirit of it.'' No man who believes the scriptures of the Old and New Testament, and understands what he believes, but must know, that external religion is as much enjoined, and constitutes as real a part of revelation, as that which is internal. The many ceremonies in use among the Jfews, in consequence of a divine command; the baptism of water, as an emblem of moral purity; the eating and drinking of bread and wine, as symbols and representations of the body and blood of Christ, required of Christians, are proofs of this. On comparing these two parts of religiori together, one, it is immediately seen, is of much greater impon.ance than the other; and. whenever they happen to interfere, is always to be preferred: but does it follow from hence, that therefore that other is of little or no importance, and, in- cases whei-e there is no competition, may entirely be neglected? Or rather is not the legitimate conclusion directly the reverse, that nothing is to be looked upon as of little importance, which is of any use at all in preserving npon our minds a sense of the Divine Authority, which recals to our remembrance the obligations we are under, and helps to keep us, as the scripture expresses it, in the fear of the Lord all the day long?* If, to adopt tlie instance mentioned in the charge, the sight of a Church should remind a man of some sentiment of piety; if, from the view of a material building dedicated to the service of God, he should be led to regard himself, his own body, as a living temple of the Holy Ghostyf and therefore no more than the other to be profaned or desecrated by any thing that defileth or is impure; could it be truly said of such a one tliat he was superstitious, or mistook the means of religion for the end? If, to use another, and what has been thought a more obnoxious instance, taken from the bishop's practice, a Cross, erected in a place of public worship,^ should cause us to reflect on him who died on across for our salvation, and on the necessity of our oivn dying to sin.§ and of crucifying the flesh with its

• Ptov. xxili, 17. 1 1 Cor. vi. 19. ^ See note [A] at the end of this Preface. § Roux, vi, 11.

affections and lusts;* would any worse consequences follow from such sentiments so excited, than if the same sentiments had been excited by the view of a picture, of the crucifixion suppose, such as is commonly placed, and with this very design, in foreign churches, and indeed in many of our own? Both the instances here adduced, it is very possible, may be far from being approved, even by those who are under the most sincere convictions of the importance of true religion; and it is easy to conceive how open to scotn and censure they must be from others, who think they have a talent for ridicule, and have accustomed themselves to regard all pretensions to piety as hypocritical or superstitious. But wisdom is justified of her £hildren.^ Religion is what it is, whether men will hear, or whether they will forbear;\ and whatever in the smallest degree promotes its interests, and assists us in performirg its command^-, whether that assistance be derived from the medium of the body or the mind, ought to be esteemed of great weight, and deserving of our most serions attention.

However, be the danger of superstition what it may, no one was more sensible of that danger, or more earnest in maintaining that external acts of themselves are nothing, and that moral holiness, a» distinguished from bodily observances of every kind, is that which constitutes the essence of religion, than Bishop Butler. Not only the charge itself, the whole intention of which is plainly nothing more than to enforce the necessity of practical religion, tiie reality as well as form, is a tiemonstration of this; but many passages besides, to the same purpose, selected from his other writings. Take the two following as specimens. In his Analogy he observes thus: " Though mankind have in all ages, been greatly prone to place their religion in peculiar positive rites, by way of equivalent for obedience to moral precepts; yet, without making any comparison at all between them, the nature of the thing abundantly sliews all notions of that kind to be utterly subversive of true religion: as they are, moreover, contrary to the whole general tenor of scripture; and likewise to the most express particular declarations of it, that nothing can render us acceptable of God, without moral virtue,"§ And to the same purpose in his Sermon, preached before the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, in February, 1738-9. "Indeed amongst creatures naturally formed for religion, yet so much under the power of imagination as men are, superstition is an evil, which can never be out of sight. But even against this, true religion is a great security ,'and the only one. True religion takes up tliat place in the mind which superstition would usurp, and so leaves little room for it; and likewise lays us under the strongest obligations to oppose it. ' On the contrary, the danger of superstition cannot hut be increased by the prevalence of irreligion; and by its general prevalence, the evil will be unavoidable. For the common people*, wanting a religion, will of course take up with almost any superstition which is thrown in their way; and, in process of time, amidst the infinite vicissitudes of the political world, the leaders of parties will certainly be able to serve themselves of that^ superstition, whatever

» Gi*I. V. 24, t Matth. xi. 19, + Ezek. ii. 5. § Analogy Part ii. Chap. 1, it be, which is getting groundj and will not fail to carry it to the Vtmost length their occasions require. The general nature of the thing shews this; and history and fact confirm it. It is therefore wonderful, those people who seem to think there is but one evil in life, that of superstition, should not see that atheism and profaneness must be the introduction of it,"*

He who can think and write in such a manner, can never be said to mistake the nature of real religion: and he, who, after such proofs to the contrary, can persist in asserting of so discreet and learned a person, that he was addicted to superstition, must himself be much a stranger both to truth and charity.

And here it may be worth our while to observe, that the same ex- <fellent prelate, who by one set of men was suspected of superstition, on account of his charge, has by another been represented as leaning to the opposite extreme of enthusiasm, on account of his two discourses On the love of God. But both opinions are equally without foundation. He was neither superstitious nor an enthusiast. His mind was much too strong, anil his habits of thinking and reasoning much too strict and severe, to sutler him to descend to the weaknesses of either character. His piety was at once fervent and rational. When, impressed with a generous concern for the declining cause of religion, he labored to revive its dying interests, nothing he judged would be more effectual to that end, among creatures so much engaged with bodily things, and so apt to be affected with whatever strongly solicits the senses as men are, than a religion of such a .frame as should in its exercise require the joint exertions of the body and the mind. On the other hand, when penetrated with the dignity ^nd importance of the jir-st and great co7nmandment,-\ Love to God, Tie set himself to inquire, what those movements of the heart are, which'are due to him, the Author and Cause of e-i things; he found, in the coolest way of consideration, that God is the natural object of the same affections of gratitude, reverence, fear-, desire of approbation., trust, and dependence; the same affections in kind, though doubtless in a very disproportionate degree, which any one would feel from contemplating a perfect character in a creature, in which goodness with wisdom and power are supposed to be the predominant qualities, with the further circumstance that tliis creature was also his governor and friend. This subject is manifestly a real one; there is nothing in it fanciful or unreasonable. This way of being affected towards God is piety, in the strictest sense; ibis is religion, considered as a habit of mind: a religion, suited to the nature and condition of man \

II. Prom superstition to popery the transition is easy. No wonder then, that, in the progress of detraction, the simple imputation of the former of these, with which the attack on the character of our author was opened, should be followed by the more aggravated imputation of the latter. Nothing, I think, can fairly be gathered in support of such a suggestion from the charge, in which popery is barely mentioned, and occasionally only, and in a sentence or two;

» Serm. XVI. p, .339, HO, Ed. Wi^ 1749, t Matth xxii, 38. ^ See note [B], at the end of this Pre'friPe.

BY THE EDITOR. IS

yet even there, it should be remarked, the bishop takes care to describe the peculiar observances required by it, ''some as in themselves wrong and superstitious, and others of them as being made subservient to the purposes of superstition." With respect to his other writings, any one at all conversant with them needs not to be told, that the matters treated of both in his Sermons and his Analogy did, none of them, directly lead him to consider, and much less to combat, the opinions, whether relating to fai'h or worship, which are peculiar to the church «if Rome: it mighi tr erefore have happened, yet without any just conclusion arising from thence, of being himself inclined to favor those opinions, that he had never mentioned, so much as incidentally, the subject of popery at all But fortunately for the reputation of the bishop, and to the eternal disgrace of his calumniators, even this poor resource is wanting to support their malevo^ lence. In his sermon at St. Bride's, before the Lord Mayor, in. 1740, after having said that '-oor laws and whole constitution go more upon supposition of an equality amongst mankind, than the constitution and laws of other countries;'' he goes on to observe, that "this plainly requires, that more particular regard should be had to the education of the lower people here, than in places where they are born slaves of power, and to be made slaves of superstition:"* meaning evidently in this place by the general term superstition, the particular errors of the Romanists This is something; but we have a still plainer indication what his sentiments concerning popery really were, from another of his Additional Sermons, I mean that before the House of Lords, on June the 11th, 1747, the anniversary of his late Majesty's accession. ' The passage alluded to is as follows, and my readers will not be displeased that I give it them at length.

"The value of our religious establishment ought to be very much heightened in our esteem, by considering what it is a security from ; I mean that great corruption of Christianity, popery, which is ever hard at work to bring us again under its yoke. Whoever will consider the popish claims to the disposal of the whole earth, as of divine right, to diifpense with the most sacred engagements, the claims to supreme absolute authority in religion; in short, the general claims which the Canonists express by the words, pleniUide of* power — whoever, I say, will consider popery as it is professed at Rome, may see, that it is manifest, open usurpation of all human and divine authority. But even in those Roman-catholic countries where these monstrous claims are not admitted;,and the civil power, does, in many respects, restrain the papal; yet persecution is professed, as it is absolutely enjoined by what is acknowledged to be their highest authority, a general council, so called, with the pope at the head of it; and is practised in all of them, I think, without exception, where it can be done safely. Thus they go on to substitute force instead of argument, and external profession made by force instead of reasonable conviction. And thus corruptions of the grossest sort have been in vogue, for many generations, in many parts of Christendom; and are so still, even where popery obtains in its least absurd form: and their antiquity and wide extent are insisted upon as proofs of ^heir truth; a iiind of proof which at best can only be presumptive,

* Serm, XVIL p, %7.

but which i(|ses all its little weight, in proportion as the long and iarge prevalence of such corruptions have been obtained by force."* In another port of the same sermon, wher& he is again speaking of our ecclesiastical constitution, he reminds his audience that it is to be valued, ^ not because it leaves us at liberty to have as little religion as we please, without being accountable to human judicatories; but because it exhibits to our viev/, and enforces upon our consciences, genuine Christianity, free from the superstitions with which it is defiled in other countries;" which superstions, he observes, "naturally tend to abate its*force."t The date of this sermon should here be attended to. It was preached in June 1747; that is, four years before the delivery and publication of the charge, which was in the year 1751; and exactly five years before the author died, which was in June, 1752. We have then, in the passages now laid before the reader, a clear and unequivocal proof, brought down to within a few years of Bishop Butler's death, that popery was held by him in the utmost abhorrence, and that he regarded it in no other light than as th.t great corruption of Christianity, and a manifest, open usurpa- Hon of all human and divine authority. The argument is decisive; nor will any thing be of force to invalidate it, unless from some after-act during the short remainder of the bishop's life, besides that of delivering and printing his Charge, (which, after what I have said, here, and in the Notes added to this Preface and to the Charge, I must have leave to consider as affording no evidence at all of his inclination to papistical doctrines or ceremonies) the contrary shall incontrovertibly appear.

III. One such after-act, hbwever, has been alleged, which would effectually demolish all that we have urged in behalf of our Prelate, were it true, as is pretended, that he died in the communion of the church of Rome. Had a story of this sort been invented and propagated by Papists, the wonder might have been less :

But to the reproach of protestantism, the fabrication of this calumny, for such we shall find it, originated from among ourselves. It is pretty remarkable, that a circumstance so extraordinary should never have been divulged till the year 1767, fifteen years after the Bishop's decease. At that time Dr. Thomas Seckek was Archbishop of Canterbury; who of all others was the most likely to know the truth or falshood of the fact asserted, having been educated with our author in his early youth, and having lived in a constant habit of intimacy with him to the very time of his death. The good Archbishop was not silent on this occasion: with a virtuous indignation he stood forth to protect the posthumous character of his friend; and in a public newspaper, under the signature of Jfisopseudes, called upon his accuser to support what he had advanced, by whatever proofs he could. No proof, however, nor any thing like a proof, appeared in reply; and every man of sense and candor at that time was perfectly convinced the aijsertion was entirely groundless! As a further confirmation of the rectitude of this judgment, it may not be amiss to

•Serm XX, i>, U0—ii2. f P- *^'^- * See note [C], at i^ie end of UusPref»ce.

mention, there is yet in existence a strong presuviptive argument at least in its favor, drawn from the testimony of those who attended our autiior in the sickness of which he died. The last days of this excellent Prelate were passed at Bath; Dr. Nathaitiel Forster, his chaplain, being continually with him; and for one (lay, and at the very end of his illness, Dr. Martin BE^^^oN also, thfe then Bishop of Glougester, who shortened his own life in his pioas haste to visit his dying friend. Both these persons constantly vrote letters to Dr. Secker, then Bishop of Oxford, containing accolints of Bishop Butler's declining health, and of the symptoms and progress of his disorder, which, as was. conjectured, soon terminated in his death. These letters, which are still preserved in the Lamkth library,* I have read; and not the slenderest argument can be collected from them in justification of the ridiculous slander we are h^re considering. If at that awful season the Bishop was not known to lave expressed any opinion, tending to shew his dislike to popery; neither was he known to have said any thing that could at all be construed in approbation of it: and the natural presumption is, that whatever sentiments he had formerly entertained concerning that corrupt system of religion, he continued to entertain them to the la^t. The truth is, that neither the word nor the idea of popery seemi once to have occurred either to the Bishop himself, or to those wh» watched his parting moments: their thoughts were otherwise enga^d. His disorder had reduced him to such debility, as to render hiii incapable of speaking much or long on any subject; the few bright intervals that occurred were passed in a state of the utmost tranquaity and composure; and in tJiat composure he expired. Mark th4 perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is pmce.-^ — Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be li\e hisl^

Out of pure respect for the virtues of a man whom Ihad never the happinessof knowing, or even of seeing, but from whkse writings I have received the greatest benefit and illumination, antt which I have reason to be thankful toProvidence for having early thrckn in my way; I have adventured, in what I have now oftered to the public, to step forth in his defence, and to vindicate his honest fame fiom the attacks of those,who, with the vain hope of bringing down superior characters to theipown level, are for ever at work in detracting torn their just praise. For the literary reputation of Bishop Butlei% it stands too high in the opinion of the world, to incur the danger of any diminution; but this in truth is the least of his excellencies. He was more than a good writer, he was a good man; and, what i&an addition even to this eulogy, he was a sincere Christian. His whole study was directed to the knowledge and practice of sound morality and true religion: these he adorned by his life, and has recommended to future ages in his writings; in which, if my judgment be of any avail, he has done essential service to both; as much, perhaps, as any single person, since the extraordinary gifts of the word of wisdom and the word of knowledge^ have been withdrawn.

* See note [D], at the cud of this Pt-eface. tPs xxxvii ST. tXumh. xxH«. 10. § I. Cor xii. 8, '

IN what follows, I propose to give a short account of the Bishop's Moral and Religious Systems, as these are collected from his works.

I. His way of treating the subject of morals is to be eathered from the volume ot his Sermons, and particularly from the three first, and from the preface to that volume.

"There is, "as our author with singular sagacity has observed, "a much more exact correspondence between the natural and moral world, than w? are apt to take notice of."* The inward frame of roan answers to his outward condition. The several propensities, passions, and iftections, implanted in our hearts by the Author of nature, are in a peculiar manner adapted to the circumstances of life in which he hath placed us. This general observation, properly pursued, leads to several important conclusions. The original internal constitution ol man, compared with his external condition, enables us to discern what course of action and behavior that constitution leads to, what is our duty respecting that condition, and furnishes us besides witi the most powerful arguments to the practice of it.

What the isward frame and constitution of man is, is a question of fact, to be determined as other facts are, from experience, from our internal feelings and external senses, and from the testimony of others. Whether human nature, and the circumstances in which it is placed, mi^ht not have been ordered otherwise, is foreign to our inquiry, and a one of our concern: our province is. taking both of these as thej are, and viewing the connexion between them, from that connexion to discover, if we can, what course of action is fitted to that naturi and those circumstances. From contemplating the bodily senses, and the organs or instruments adapted to them, we learn that the eye was given to see with, the ear to hear with. In like manner, rom considering our inward perceptions and the final causes of then, we collect that the feeling of shame for instance, v/as given to prev<nt the doing of things shameful; compassion, to carry us to releive others in distress; anger, to resist sudden violence offered to ourselves. If, continuing our inquiries in this way, it should at length appear that the whole nature of man, leads him to and is fitted for that particular course of behavior, which we usually distinguish by the tame of virtue; we are authorized to conclude, tjiat virtue is the law we are born under, that it was so intended by the Author of our being; and we are bound by the most intimate of all obligations, a rtgard to our own highest interest and happiness, to conform to it in all situations and events.

Human nature is not simple and uniform, but made up of several parts; and we can have no just idea of it as a system or constitution, unless we take into our view the respects and relations • which these parts have to each other. As the body is not one member, but many, so our inward structure consists of various instincts, appetites and propensions. Thus far there is no difference between human creatures and brutes. But besides these common passions and affections, there is another principle, peculiar to mankind, that of conscience, moral sense, reflection, call it what you please, by which they are enabled to review their whole conduct^, t<» approve of some

•SerHhVI.

actions in themselves, and to disapprove of others. That this principle will of course have some influence on our behavior, at least at times, will hardly be disputed: but the particular influence which it ought to have, the precise degree of power in the regulating of our internal frame that is assigned it by him who placed it there, is a point of the utmost consequence in itself, and on the determination of which the very hinge of our Author's moral system turns. If the faculty here spoken of be indeed, what it is asserted toba, in nature and kind superior to every other passion and affection, if it be given, not merely that it may exert its force occasionally, or as our present humor or fancy may dispose us, but that it may at all times exercise an uncontrollable authority and government over all the restj it will then follow, that in order to complete the idea of human nature, as a system, we must not only take in each particular bias, propension, instinct, which are seen to belong to it, but we must add, besides the principle of conscience, together with the subjection that is due to it from all the other appetites and passions; just as the idea of a civil constitution is formed, not barely from enumerating the several members and ranks of which it is composed, but from these considered as acting in various degrees of subordination to each other, and all under the direction of the same supreme authority, whether that authority be vested in one person or more.

The view here given of the internal constitution of man, and of the supremacy of conscience, agreeably to the conceptions of Bishop Butler, enables us to comprehend the force of that expression, common to him and the ancient moralists, that virtue consists in following nature. The meaning cannot be, that it consists in acting agreeably to that propensity of our nature which happens to be the strongest; or which propels us towards certain objects, without any regard to the methods by which they are to be obtained; but the meaning must be, that virtue consists in the due regulation and subjection of all the other appetites and aft'ections to the superior faculty of conscience ; from a conformity to which alone our actions are properly natural, or correspondent to the nature, to the whole nature of such an age«t as man. From hence to it appears, that the Author of our frame is by no means indifferent to virtue and vice, or has left us at liberty to act at random, as humor or appetite may prompt us; but that every man has the rule of right within him; a rule attended in the very notion of it with authority, and such as has the force of a direction and a command from him, who made us what we are, what course of behavior is suited to our nature, and which he expects that we should follow. This moral faculty implies also a pre-sentiraent and apprehension, that the judgment which it passes on our actions, considered as of good or ill desert, will hereafter be confirmed by the unerring judgment of God ; when virtue and happiness, vice and misery, whose ideas are now so closely connected, shall be indissolubly united, and the divine government be found to correspond in the most exact proportion to the nature he has given us. Lastly, this just prerogative or supremacy of conscience it is, ■which Mr. Pope has described in his Universal Prayer, though perhaps he may have expressed it rather too strongly, where he says,