with the selfish hopes and fears which they inspire, corrupts morality and that the only worthy motive for conduct is the beauty of virtue in itself.  He does not even consider deism a necessary assumption for a moral code; he admits that the opinion of atheists does not undermine ethics.  But he thinks that the belief in a good governor of the universe is a powerful support to the practice of virtue.  He is a thorough optimist, and is perfectly satisfied with the admirable adaptation of means to ends, whereby it is the function of one animal to be food for another.  He makes no attempt to reconcile the red claws and teeth of nature with the beneficence of its powerful artist.  “In the main all things are kindly and well disposed.”  The atheist might have said that he preferred to be at the mercy of blind chance than in the hands of an autocrat who, if he pleased Lord Shaftesbury’s sense

[150] of order, had created flies to be devoured by spiders.  But this was an aspect of the universe which did not much trouble thinkers in the eighteenth century.  On the other hand, the character of the God of the Old Testament roused Shaftesbury’s aversion.  He attacks Scripture not directly, but by allusion or with irony.  He hints that if there is a God, he would be less displeased with atheists than with those who accepted him in the guise of Jehovah.  As Plutarch said, “I had rather men should say of me that there neither is nor ever was such a one as Plutarch, than they should say ’There was a Plutarch, an unsteady, changeable, easily provokable and revengeful man.’ " Shaftesbury’s significance is that he built up a positive theory of morals, and although it had no philosophical depth, his influence on French and German thinkers of the eighteenth century was immense.

In some ways perhaps the ablest of the deists, and certainly the most scholarly, was Rev. Conyers Middleton, who remained within the Church.  He supported Christianity on grounds of utility.  Even if it is an imposture, he said, it would be wrong to destroy it.  For it is established by law and it has a long tradition behind it.  Some traditional religion is necessary and it would

[151] be hopeless to supplant Christianity by reason.  But his writings contain effective arguments which go to undermine Revelation.  The most important was his Free Inquiry into Christian miracles (1748), which put in a new and dangerous light an old question:  At what time did the Church cease to have the power of performing miracles?  We shall see presently how Gibbon applied Middleton’s method.

The leading adversaries of the deists appealed, like them, to reason, and, in appealing to reason, did much to undermine authority.  The ablest defence of the faith, Bishop Butler’s Analogy (1736), is suspected of having raised more doubts than it appeased.  This was the experience of William Pitt the Younger, and the Analogy made James Mill (the utilitarian) an unbeliever.  The deists, argued