CHAPTER XVI

BRITISH FREETHOUGHT IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

§ 1

It appears from our survey that the "deistic movement," commonly

assigned to the eighteenth century, had been abundantly prepared

for in the seventeenth, which, in turn, was but developing ideas

current in the sixteenth. When, in 1696, John Toland published his

Christianity Not Mysterious, the sensation it made was due not so

much to any unheard-of boldness in its thought as to the simple fact

that deistic ideas had thus found their way into print. [684] So far

the deistic position was explicitly represented in English literature

only by the works of Herbert, Hobbes, and Blount; and of these only

the first (who wrote in Latin) and the third had put the case at any

length. Against the deists or atheists of the school of Hobbes, and

the Scriptural Unitarians who thought with Newton and Locke, there

stood arrayed the great mass of orthodox intolerance which clamoured

for the violent suppression of every sort of "infidelity." It was

this feeling, of which the army of ignorant rural clergy were the

spokesmen, that found vent in the Blasphemy Act of 1697. The new

literary growth dating from the time of Toland is the evidence of

the richness of the rationalistic soil already created. Thinking men

craved a new atmosphere. Locke's Reasonableness of Christianity is an

unsuccessful compromise: Toland's book begins a new propagandist era.

Toland's treatise, [685] heretical as it was, professed to be a

defence of the faith, and avowedly founded on Locke's anonymous

Reasonableness of Christianity, its young author being on terms of

acquaintance with the philosopher. [686] He claimed, in fact, to take

for granted "the Divinity of the New Testament," and to "demonstrate

the verity of divine revelation against atheists and all enemies of

revealed religion," from whom, accordingly, he expected to receive no

quarter. Brought up, as he declared, "from my cradle, in the grossest

superstition and idolatry," he had been divinely led to make use of

his own reason; and he assured his Christian readers of his perfect

sincerity in "defending the true religion." [687] Twenty years later,

his primary positions were hardly to be distinguished from those of

ratiocinative champions of the creed, save in respect that he was

challenging orthodoxy where they were replying to unbelievers. Toland,

however, lacked alike the timidity and the prudence which so safely

guided Locke in his latter years; and though his argument was only

a logical and outspoken extension of Locke's position, to the end

of showing that there was nothing supra-rational in Christianity of

Locke's type, it separated him from "respectable" society in England

and Ireland for the rest of his life. The book was "presented" by the

Grand Juries of Middlesex and Dublin; [688] the dissenters in Dublin

being chiefly active in denouncing it--with or without knowledge

of its contents; [689] half-a-dozen answers appeared; and when in

1698 Toland produced another, entitled Amyntor, showing the infirm

foundation of the Christian canon, there was again a speedy crop of

replies. Despite the oversights inevitable to such pioneer work, this

opens, from the side of freethought, the era of documentary criticism

of the New Testament; and in some of his later freethinking books,

as the Nazarenus (1718) and the Pantheisticon (1720), he continues to

show himself in advance of his time in "opening new windows" for his

mind. [690] The latter work represents in particular the influence

of Spinoza, whom he had formerly criticized somewhat forcibly [691]

for his failure to recognize that motion is inherent in matter. On

that head he lays down [692] the doctrine that "motion is but matter

under a certain consideration"--an essentially "materialist" position,

deriving from the pre-Socratic Greeks, and incidentally affirmed by

Bacon. [693] He was not exactly an industrious student or writer;

but he had scholarly knowledge and instinct, and several of his works

show close study of Bayle.

As regards his more original views on Christian origins, he is not

impressive to the modern reader; but theses which to-day stand for

little were in their own day important. Thus in his Hodegus (pt. i of

the Tetradymus, 1720) it is elaborately argued that the "pillar of

fire by night and of cloud by day" was no miracle, but the regular

procedure of guides in deserts, where night marches are the rule;

the "cloud" being simply the smoke of the vanguard's fire, which by

night flared red. Later criticism decides that the whole narrative

of the Exodus is myth. Toland's method, however, was relatively so

advanced that it had not been abandoned by theological "rationalists" a

century later. Of that movement he must be ranked an energetic pioneer:

though he lacked somewhat the strength of character that in his day

was peculiarly needed to sustain a freethinker. Much of his later life

was spent abroad; and his Letters to Serena (1704) show him permitted

to discourse to the Queen of Prussia on such topics as the origin

and force of prejudice, the history of the doctrine of immortality,

and the origin of idolatry. He pays his correspondent the compliment

of treating his topics with much learning; and his manner of assuming

her own orthodoxy in regard to revelation could have served as a model

to Gibbon. [694] But, despite such distinguished patronage, his life

was largely passed in poverty, cheerfully endured, [695] with only

chronic help from well-to-do sympathizers, such as Shaftesbury, who

was not over-sympathetic. When it is noted that down to 1761 there

had appeared no fewer than fifty-four answers to his first book,

[696] his importance as an intellectual influence may be realized.

A certain amount of evasion was forced upon Toland by the Blasphemy

Law of 1697; inferentially, however, he was a thorough deist until

he became pantheist; and the discussion over his books showed that

views essentially deistic were held even among his antagonists. One,

an Irish bishop, got into trouble by setting forth a notion of

deity which squared with that of Hobbes. [697] The whole of our

present subject, indeed, is much complicated by the distribution

of heretical views among the nominally orthodox, and of orthodox

views among heretics. [698] Thus the school of Cudworth, zealous

against atheism, was less truly theistic than that of Blount, [699]

who, following Hobbes, pointed out that to deny to God a continual

personal and providential control of human affairs was to hold to

atheism under the name of theism; [700] whereas Cudworth, the champion

of theism against the atheists, entangled himself hopelessly [701]

in a theory which made deity endow Nature with "plastic" powers and

leave it to its own evolution. The position was serenely demolished

by Bayle, [702] as against Le Clerc, who sought to defend it; and

in England the clerical outcry was so general that Cudworth gave

up authorship. [703] Over the same crux, in Ireland, Bishop Browne

and Bishop Berkeley accused each other of promoting atheism; and

Archbishop King was embroiled in the dispute. [704] On the other hand,

the theistic Descartes had laid down a "mechanical" theory of the

universe which perfectly comported with atheism, and partly promoted

that way of thinking; [705] and a selection from Gassendi's ethical

writings, translated into English [706] (1699), wrought in the same

direction. The Church itself contained Cartesians and Cudworthians,

Socinians and deists. [707] Each group, further, had inner differences

as to free-will [708] and Providence; and the theistic schools of

Newton, Clarke, and Leibnitz rejected each other's philosophies as well

as that of Descartes. Leibnitz complained grimly that Newton and his

followers had "a very odd opinion concerning the Work of God," making

the universe an imperfect machine, which the deity had frequently to

mend; and treating space as an organ by which God perceives things,

which are thus regarded as not produced or maintained by him. [709]

Newton's principles of explanation, he insisted, were those of

the materialists. [710] John Hutchinson, a professor at Cambridge,

in his Treatise of Power, Essential and Mechanical, also bitterly

assailed Newton as a deistical and anti-scriptural sophist. [711]

Clarke, on the other hand, declared that the philosophy of Leibnitz

was "tending to banish God from the world." [712] Alongside of such

internecine strife, it was not surprising that the great astronomer

Halley, who accepted Newton's principles in physics, was commonly

reputed an atheist; and that the freethinkers pitted his name in that

connection against Newton's. [713] As it was he who first suggested

[714] the idea of the total motion of the entire solar system in

space--described by a modern pietist as "this great cosmical truth,

the grandest in astronomy" [715]--they were not ill justified. It can

hardly be doubted that if intellectual England could have been polled

in 1710, under no restraints from economic, social, and legal pressure,

some form of rationalism inconsistent with Christianity would have

been found to be nearly as common as orthodoxy. In outlying provinces,

in Devon and Cornwall, in Ulster, in Edinburgh and Glasgow, as well as

in the metropolis, the pressure of deism on the popular creed evoked

expressions of Arian and Socinian thought among the clergy. [716]

It was, in fact, the various restraints under notice that determined

the outward fortunes of belief and unbelief, and have substantially

determined them since. When the devout Whiston was deposed from

his professorship for his Arianism, and the unbelieving Saunderson

was put in his place, [717] and when Simson was suspended from his

ministerial functions in Glasgow, [718] the lesson was learned that

outward conformity was the sufficient way to income. [719]

Hard as it was, however, to kick against the pricks of law and

prejudice, it is clear that many in the upper and middle classes

privately did so. The clerical and the new popular literature of

the time prove this abundantly. In the Tatler and its successors,

[720] the decorous Addison and the indecorous Steele, neither of

them a competent thinker, frigidly or furiously asperse the new

tribe of freethinkers; while the evangelically pious Berkeley and

the extremely unevangelical Swift rival each other in the malice of

their attacks on those who rejected their creed. Berkeley, a man of

philosophic genius but intense prepossessions, maintained Christianity

on grounds which are the negation of philosophy. [721] Swift, the

genius of neurotic misanthropy, who, in the words of Macaulay, "though

he had no religion, had a great deal of professional spirit," [722]

fought venomously for the creed of salvation. And still the deists

multiplied. In the Earl of Shaftesbury [723] they had a satirist with a

finer and keener weapon than was wielded by either Steele or Addison,

and a much better temper than was owned by Swift or Berkeley. He did

not venture to parade his unbelief: to do so was positively dangerous;

but his thrusts at faith left little doubt as to his theory. He was at

once dealt with by the orthodox as an enemy, and as promptly adopted

by the deists as a champion, important no less for his ability than

for his rank. Nor, indeed, is he lacking in boldness in comparison

with contemporary writers. The anonymous pamphlet entitled The Natural

History of Superstition, by the deist John Trenchard, M.P. (1709),

does not venture on overt heresy. But Shaftesbury's Letter Concerning

Enthusiasm (1708), his Essay on the Freedom of Wit and Humour (1709),

and his treatise The Moralists (1709), had need be anonymous because

of their essential hostility to the reigning religious ethic.

Such polemic marks a new stage in rationalistic propaganda. Swift,

writing in 1709, angrily proposes to "prevent the publishing of

such pernicious works as under pretence of freethinking endeavour to

overthrow those tenets in religion which have been held inviolable

in almost all ages." [724] But his further protest that "the doctrine

of the Trinity, the divinity of Christ, the immortality of the soul,

and even the truth of all revelation, are daily exploded and denied in

books openly printed," points mainly to the Unitarian propaganda. Among

freethinkers he names, in his Argument Against Abolishing Christianity

(1708), Asgill, Coward, Toland, and Tindal. But the first was

an ultra-Christian; the second was a Christian upholder of the

thesis that spirit is not immaterial; and the last, at that date,

had published only his Four Discourses (collected in 1709) and his

Rights of the Christian Church, which are anti-clerical, but not

anti-Christian. Prof. Henry Dodwell, who about 1673 published Two

Letters of Advice, I, For the Susception of Holy Orders; II, For

Studies Theological, especially such as are Rational, and in 1706

an Epistolary Discourse Concerning the Soul's Natural Mortality,

maintaining the doctrine of conditional immortality, [725] which he

made dependent on baptism in the apostolical succession, was a devout

Christian; and no writer of that date went further. Dodwell is in fact

blamed by Bishop Burnet for stirring up fanaticism against lay-baptism

among dissenters. [726] It would appear that Swift spoke mainly from

hearsay, and on the strength of the conversational freethinking so

common in society. [727] But the anonymous essays of Shaftesbury

which were issued in 1709 might be the immediate provocation of his

outbreak. [728]

An official picture of the situation is formally drawn in A

Representation of the Present State of Religion, with regard to the

late excessive growth of infidelity, heresy, and profaneness, drawn

up by the Upper House of Convocation of the province of Canterbury

in 1711. [729] This sets forth, as a result of the disorders of

the Rebellion, a growth of all manner of unbelief and profanity,

including denial of inspiration and the authority of the canon;

the likening of Christian miracles to heathen fables; the treating

of all religious mysteries as absurd speculations; Arianism and

Socinianism and scoffing at the doctrine of the Trinity; denial of

natural immortality; Erastianism; mockery of baptism and the Lord's

Supper; decrying of all priests as impostors; the collecting and

reprinting of infidel works; and publication of mock catechisms. It

is explained that all such printing has greatly increased "since

the expiration of the Act for restraining the press"; and mention

is made of an Arian work just published to which the author has put

his name, and which he has dedicated to the Convocation itself. This

was the first volume of Whiston's Primitive Christianity Revived, the

work of a devout eccentric, who had just before been deprived of his

professorship at Cambridge for his orally avowed heresy. Whiston, whose

cause was championed, and whose clerical opponents were lampooned,

in an indecorous but vigorous sketch, The Tryal of William Whiston,

Clerk, for defaming and denying the Holy Trinity, before the Lord

Chief Justice Reason (1712; 3rd ed. 1740), always remained perfectly

devout in his Arian orthodoxy; but his and his friends' arguments

were rather better fitted to make deists than to persuade Christians;

and Convocation's appeal for a new Act "restraining the present

excessive and scandalous liberty of printing wicked books at home,

and importing the like from abroad" was not responded to. There was

no love lost between Bolingbroke and Shaftesbury; but the government

in which the former, a known deist, was Secretary of State, could

hardly undertake to suppress the works of the latter.

§ 2

Deism had been thus made in a manner fashionable [730] when, in 1713,

Anthony Collins (1676-1729) began a new development by his Discourse

of Freethinking. He had previously published a notably freethinking

Essay Concerning the Use of Reason (1707), albeit without specific

impeachment of the reigning creed; carried on a discussion with

Clarke on the question of the immateriality of the soul; and issued

treatises entitled Priestcraft in Perfection (1709, dealing with the

history of the Thirty-nine Articles) [731] and A Vindication of the

Divine Attributes (1710), exposing the Hobbesian theism of Archbishop

King on lines followed twenty years later by Berkeley in his Minute

Philosopher. But none of these works aroused such a tumult as the

Discourse of Freethinking, which may be said to sum up and unify

the drift not only of previous English freethinking, but of the

great contribution of Bayle, whose learning and temper influence

all English deism from Shaftesbury onwards. [732] Collins's book,

however, was unique in its outspokenness. To the reader of to-day,

indeed, it is no very aggressive performance: the writer was a man

of imperturbable amenity and genuine kindliness of nature; and his

style is the completest possible contrast to that of the furious

replies it elicited. It was to Collins that Locke wrote, in 1703:

"Believe it, my good friend, to love truth for truth's sake is the

principal part of human perfection in this world, and the seed-plot

of all other virtues; and, if I mistake not, you have as much of it

as I ever met with in anybody." [733] The Discourse does no discredit

to this uncommon encomium, being a luminous and learned plea for the

conditions under which alone truth can be prosperously studied, and

the habits of mind which alone can attain it. Of the many replies, the

most notorious is that of Bentley writing as Phileleutherus Lipsiensis,

a performance which, on the strength of its author's reputation for

scholarship, has been uncritically applauded by not a few critics,

of whom some of the most eminent do not appear to have read Collins's

treatise. [734] Bentley's is in reality pre-eminent only for insolence

and bad faith, the latter complicated by lapses of scholarship hardly

credible on its author's part.

See the details in Dynamics of Religion, ch. vii. I am compelled

to call attention to the uncritical verdict given on this matter by

the late Sir Leslie Stephen, who asserts (English Thought, i, 206)

that Bentley convicts Collins of "unworthy shuffling" in respect

of his claim that freethinking had "banished the devil." Bentley

affirmed that this had been the work, not of the freethinkers,

but of "the Royal Society, the Boyles and the Newtons"; and

Sir Leslie comments that "nothing could be more true." Nothing

could be more untrue. As we have seen (above p. 82), Boyle was

a convinced believer in demonology; and Newton did absolutely

nothing to disperse it. Glanvill, a Royal Society man, had been

a vehement supporter of the belief in witchcraft; and the Society

as such never meddled with the matter. As to Collins's claim for

the virtue of freethinking, Sir Leslie strangely misses the point

that Collins meant by the word not unbelief, but free inquiry. He

could not have meant to say that Holland was full of deists. In

Collins's sense of the word, the Royal Society's work in general

was freethinking work.

One mistranslation which appears to have been a printer's error,

and one mis-spelling of a Greek name, are the only heads on which

Bentley confutes his author. He had, in fact, neither the kind of

knowledge nor the candour that could fit him to handle the problems

raised. It was Bentley's cue to represent Collins as an atheist,

though he was a very pronounced deist; [735] and in the first uproar

Collins thought it well to fly to Holland to avoid arrest. [736] But

deism was too general to permit of such a representative being exiled;

and he returned to study quietly, leaving Bentley's vituperation and

prevarication unanswered, with the other attacks made upon him. In

1715 he published his brief but masterly Inquiry Concerning Human

Liberty--anonymous, like all his works--which remains unsurpassed as

a statement of the case for Determinism. [737]

The welcome given to Bentley's attack upon Collins by the orthodox

was warm in proportion to their sense of the general inadequacy of the

apologetics on their side. Amid the common swarm of voluble futilities

put forth by Churchmen, the strident vehemence as well as the erudite

repute of the old scholar were fitted at least to attract the attention

of lay readers in general. Most of the contemporary vindications of the

faith, however, were fitted only to move intelligent men to new doubt

or mere contempt. A sample of the current defence against deism is

the treatise of Joseph Smith on The Unreasonableness of Deism, or, the

Certainty of a Divine Revelation, etc. 1720, where deists in general

are called "the Wicked and Unhappy men we have to deal with": [738]

and the argumentation consists in alleging that a good God must reveal

himself, and that if the miracle stories of the New Testament had been

false the Jews would have exposed and discarded them. Against such

nugatory traditionalism, the criticism of Collins shone with the spirit

of science. Not till 1723 did he publish his next work, A Discourse of

the Grounds and Reasons of the Christian Religion, a weighty attack on

the argument from prophecy, to which the replies numbered thirty-five;

on which followed in 1727 his Scheme of Literal Prophecy Considered,

a reply to criticisms. The former work was pronounced by Warburton

one of the most plausible ever written against Christianity, and he

might well say so. It faced the argument from prophecy not merely

with the skepticism of the ordinary deist, but with that weapon of

critical analysis of which the use had been briefly shown by Hobbes

and Spinoza. Apparently for the first time, he pointed out that the

"virgin prophecy" in Isaiah had a plain reference to contemporary

and not to future events; he showed that the "out of Egypt" prophecy

referred to the Hebrew past; and he revived the ancient demonstration

of Porphyry that the Book of Daniel is Maccabean. The general dilemma

put by Collins--that either the prophecies must be reduced, textually

and otherwise, to non-prophetic utterances, or Christianity must give

up prophetic claims--has never since been solved.

The deistic movement was now in full flood, the acute Mandeville

[739] having issued in 1720 his Free Thoughts on Religion, and in

1723 a freshly-expanded edition of his very anti-evangelical Fable of

the Bees; while an eccentric ex-clergyman, Thomas Woolston, who had

already lost his fellowship of Sidney-Sussex College, Cambridge, for

vagaries of doctrine and action, contributed in 1726-28 his freshly

reasoned but heedlessly ribald Discourses on Miracles. Voltaire, who

was in England in 1728, tells that thirty thousand copies were sold;

[740] while sixty pamphlets were written in opposition. Woolston's

were indeed well fitted to arouse wrath and rejoinder. The dialectic

against the argument from miracles in general, and the irrelevance

or nullity of certain miracles in particular, is really cogent,

and anticipates at points the thought of the nineteenth century. But

Woolston was of the tribe who can argue no issue without jesting, and

who stamp levity on every cause by force of innate whimsicality. Thus

he could best sway the light-hearted when his cause called for the

winning-over of the earnest. Arguments that might have been made

convincing were made to pass as banter, and serious spirits were

repelled. It was during this debate that Conyers Middleton, Fellow

of Trinity College, Cambridge, produced his Letter from Rome (1729),

wherein the part of paganism in Christianity is so set forth as to

carry inference further than the argument ostensibly goes. In that

year the heads of Oxford University publicly lamented the spread of

open deism among the students; and the proclamation did nothing to

check the contagion. In Fogg's Weekly Journal of July 4, 1730, it is

announced that "one of the principal colleges in Oxford has of late

been infested with deists; and that three deistical students have been

expelled; and a fourth has had his degree deferred two years, during

which he is to be closely confined in college; and, among other things,

is to translate Leslie's Short and Easy Method with the Deists." [741]

It is not hard to divine the effect of such exegetic methods. In 1731,

the author of an apologetic pamphlet in reply to Woolston laments that

even at the universities young men "too often" become tainted with

"infidelity"; and, on the other hand, directing his battery against

those who "causelessly profess to build their skeptical notions"

on the writings of Locke, he complains of Dr. Holdsworth and other

academic polemists who had sought to rob orthodoxy of the credit of

such a champion as Locke by "consigning him over to that class of

freethinkers and skeptics to which he was an adversary." [742]

With the most famous work of Matthew Tindal, [743] Christianity

as Old as Creation (1730), the excitement seems to have reached

high-water mark. Here was vivacity without flippancy, and argument

without irrelevant mirth; and the work elicited from first to last

over a hundred and fifty replies, at home and abroad. Tindal's thesis

is that the idea of a good God involved that of a simple, perfect,

and universal religion, which must always have existed among mankind,

and must have essentially consisted in moral conduct. Christianity,

insofar as it is true, must therefore be a statement of this primordial

religion; and moral reason must be the test, not tradition or

Scripture. One of the first replies was the Vindication of Scripture

by Waterland, to which Middleton promptly offered a biting retort in a

Letter to Dr. Waterland (1731) that serves to show the slightness of

its author's faith. After demolishing Waterland's case as calculated

rather to arouse than to allay skepticism, he undertakes to offer

a better reply of his own. It is to the simple effect that some

religion is necessary to mankind in modern as in ancient times; that

Christianity meets the need very well; and that to set up reason

in its place is "impracticable" and "the attempt therefore foolish

and irrational," in addition to being "criminal and immoral," when

politically considered. [744] Such legalist criticism, if seriously

meant, was hardly likely to discredit Tindal's book. Its directness

and simplicity of appeal to what passed for theistic common-sense were

indeed fitted to give it the widest audience yet won by any deist;

and its anti-clericalism would carry it far among his fellow Whigs

to begin with. [745] One tract of the period, dedicated to the Queen

Regent, complains that "the present raging infidelity threatens an

universal infection," and that it is not confined to the capital, but

"is disseminated even to the confines of your kingdom." [746] Tindal,

like Collins, wrote anonymously, and so escaped prosecution, dying in

1733, when the second part of his book, left ready for publication, was

deliberately destroyed by Bishop Gibson, into whose hands it came. In

1736 he and Shaftesbury are described by an orthodox apologist as the

"two oracles of deism." [747]

Woolston, who put his name to his books, after being arrested in May,

1728, and released on bail, was prosecuted in 1729 on the charge of

blasphemy, in that he had derided the gospel miracles and represented

Jesus alternately as an impostor, a sorcerer, and a magician. His

friendly counsel ingeniously argued that Woolston had aimed at

safeguarding Christianity by returning to the allegorical method of

the early Fathers; and that he had shown his reverence for Jesus and

religion by many specific expressions; but the jury took a simpler

view, and, without leaving the court, found Woolston guilty. He was

sentenced to pay a fine of £100, to suffer a year's imprisonment,

and either to find surety for his future good conduct or pay or give

sureties for £2,000. [748] He is commonly said to have paid the penalty

of imprisonment for the rest of his life (d. 1733), being unable to

pay the fine of £100; but Voltaire positively asserts that "nothing

is more false" than the statement that he died in prison; adding:

"Several of my friends have seen him in his house: he died there, at

liberty." [749] The solution of the conflict seems to be that he lived

in his own house "in the rules of" the King's Bench Prison--that is,

in the precincts, and under technical supervision. [750] In any case,

he was sentenced; and the punishment was the measure of the anger felt

at the continuous advance of deistic opinions, or at least against

hostile criticism of the Scriptures.

§ 3

Unitarianism, formerly a hated heresy, was now in comparison leniently

treated, because of its deference to Scriptural authority. Where

the deists rejected all revelation, Unitarianism held by the Bible,

calling only for a revision of the central Christian dogma. It

had indeed gained much theological ground in the past quarter of

a century. Nothing is more instructive in the culture-history

of the period than the rapidity with which the Presbyterian

succession of clergy passed from violent Calvinism, by way of

"Baxterian" Arminianism, to Arianism, and thence in many cases to

Unitarianism. First they virtually adopted the creed of the detested

Laud, whom their fathers had hated for it; then they passed step by

step to a heresy for which their fathers had slain men. A closely

similar process took place in Geneva, where Servetus after death

triumphed over his slayer. [751] In 1691, after a generation of

common suffering, a precarious union was effected between the English

Presbyterians, now mostly semi-Arminians, and the Independents, still

mostly Calvinists: but in 1694 it was dissolved. [752] Thereafter

the former body, largely endowed by the will of Lady Hewley in 1710,

became as regards its Trust Deeds the freest of all the English sects

in matters of doctrine. [753] The recognition of past changes had made

their clergy chary of a rigid subscription. Naturally the movement did

not gain in popularity as it fell away from fanaticism; but the decline

of Nonconformity in the first half of the eighteenth century was common

to all the sects, and did not specially affect the Presbyterians. Of

the many "free" churches established in England and Wales after the

Act of Toleration (1689), about half were extinct in 1715; [754] and

of the Presbyterian churches the number in Yorkshire alone fell from

fifty-nine in 1715 to a little over forty in 1730. [755] Economic

causes were probably the main ones. The State-endowed parish priest

had an enduring advantage over his rival. But the Hewley endowment

gave a certain economic basis to the Presbyterians; and the concern

for scholarship which had always marked their body kept them more open

to intellectual influences than the ostensibly more free-minded and

certainly more democratic sectaries of the Independent and Baptist

bodies. [756]

The result was that, with free Trust Deeds, the Presbyterians openly

exhibited a tendency which was latent in all the other churches. In

1719, at a special assembly of Presbyterian ministers at Salters'

Hall, it was decided by a majority of 73 to 69 that subscription to

the orthodox doctrine of the Trinity should no longer be demanded of

candidates for the ministry. [757] Of the 73, the majority professed to

be themselves orthodox; but there was no question that antitrinitarian

opinions had become common, especially in Devonshire, where the heresy

case of Mr. Peirce of Exeter had brought the matter to a crisis. [758]

From this date "Arian" opinions spread more rapidly in the dwindling

denomination, shading yet further into Unitarianism, step for step with

the deistic movement in the Church. "In less than half a century the

doctrines of the great founders of Presbyterianism could scarcely be

heard from any Presbyterian pulpit in England." [759] "In the English

Presbyterian ministry the process was from Arian opinions to those

called Unitarian ... by a gradual sliding," even as the transition had

been made from Calvinism to Arminianism in the previous century. [760]

Presbyterianism having thus come pretty much into line with

Anglicanism on the old question of predestination, while still

holding fast by Scriptural standards as against the deists, the

old stress of Anglican dislike had slackened, despite the rise of

the new heretical element. Unitarian arguments were now forthcoming

from quarters not associated with dissent, as in the case of Thomas

Chubb's first treatise, The Supremacy of the Father Asserted (1715),

courteously dedicated "To the Reverend the Clergy, and in particular

to the Right Reverend Gilbert Lord Bishop of Sarum, our vigilant

and laborious Diocesan." Chubb (1679-1747) had been trained to

glove-making, and, as his opponents took care to record, acted

also as a tallow-chandler; [761] and the good literary quality of

his work made some sensation in an England which had not learned to

think respectfully of Bunyan. Chubb's impulse to write had come from

the perusal of Whiston's Primitive Christianity Revived, in 1711,

and that single-minded Arian published his book for him.

The Unitarians would naturally repudiate all connection with such a

performance as A Sober Reply to Mr. Higgs's Merry Arguments from the

Light of Nature for the Tritheistic Doctrine of the Trinity, which was

condemned by the House of Lords on February 12, 1720, to be burnt,

as having "in a daring, impious manner, ridiculed the doctrine of

the Trinity and all revealed religion." Its author, Joseph Hall, a

serjeant-at-arms to the King, seems to have undergone no punishment,

and more decorous antitrinitarians received public countenance. Thus

the Unitarian Edward Elwall, [762] who had published a book called

A True Testimony for God and his Sacred Law (1724), for which he was

prosecuted at Stafford in 1726, was allowed by the judge to argue his

cause fully, and was unconditionally acquitted, to the displeasure

of the clergy.

§ 4

Anti-scriptural writers could not hope for such toleration, being

doubly odious to the Church. Berkeley, in 1721, had complained bitterly

[763] of the general indifference to religion, which his writings had

done nothing to alter; and in 1736 he angrily demanded that blasphemy

should be punished like high treason. [764] His Minute Philosopher

(1732) betrays throughout his angry consciousness of the vogue of

freethinking after twenty years of resistance from his profession;

and that performance is singularly ill fitted to alter the opinions

of unbelievers. In his earlier papers attacking them he had put a

stress of malice that, in a mind of his calibre, is startling even

to the student of religious history. [765] It reveals him as no less

possessed by the passion of creed than the most ignorant priest of

his Church. For him all freethinkers were detested disturbers of his

emotional life; and of the best of them, as Collins, Shaftesbury,

and Spinoza, he speaks with positive fury. In the Minute Philosopher,

half-conscious of the wrongness of his temper, he sets himself to

make the unbelievers figure in dialogue as ignorant, pretentious,

and coarse-natured; while his own mouthpieces are meant to be benign,

urbane, wise, and persuasive. Yet in the very pages so planned he

unwittingly reveals that the freethinkers whom he goes about to

caricature were commonly good-natured in tone, while he becomes as

virulent as ever in his eagerness to discredit them. Not a paragraph in

the book attains to the spirit of judgment or fairness; all is special

pleading, overstrained and embittered sarcasm, rankling animus. Gifted

alike for literature and for philosophy, keen of vision in economic

problems where the mass of men were short-sighted, he was flawed on the

side of his faith by the hysteria to which it always stirred him. No

man was less qualified to write a well-balanced dialogue as between

his own side and its opponents. To candour he never attains, unless

it be in the sense that his passion recoils on his own case. Even

while setting up ninepins of ill-put "infidel" argument to knock down,

he elaborates futilities of rebuttal, indicating to every attentive

reader the slightness of his rational basis.

On the strength of this performance he might fitly be termed the most

ill-conditioned sophist of his age, were it not for the perception

that religious feeling in him has become a pathological phase, and

that he suffers incomparably more from his own passions than he can

inflict on his enemies by his eager thrusts at them. More than almost

any gifted pietist of modern times he sets us wondering at the power

of creed in certain cases to overgrow judgment and turn to naught

the rarest faculties. No man in Berkeley's day had a finer natural

lucidity and suppleness of intelligence; yet perhaps no polemist on

his side did less either to make converts or to establish a sound

intellectual practice. Plain men on the freethinking side he must

either have bewildered by his metaphysic or revolted by his spite;

while to the more efficient minds he stood revealed as a kind of

inspired child, rapt in the construction and manipulation of a set

of brilliant sophisms which availed as much for any other creed as

for his own. To the armoury of Christian apologetic now growing up

in England he contributed a special form of the skeptical argument:

freethinkers, he declared, made certain arbitrary or irrational

assumptions in accepting Newton's doctrine of fluxions, and it was only

their prejudice that prevented them from being similarly accommodating

to Christian mysteries. [766] It is a kind of argument dear to minds

pre-convinced and incapable of a logical revision, but worse than

inept as against opponents; and it availed no more in Berkeley's

hands than it had done in those of Huet. [767] To theosophy, indeed,

Berkeley rendered a more successful service in presenting it with the

no better formula of "existence [i.e., in consciousness] dependent upon

consciousness"--a verbalism which has served the purposes of theology

in the philosophic schools down till our own day. For his, however,

the popular polemic value of such a theorem must have been sufficiently

countervailed by his vehement championship of the doctrine of passive

obedience in its most extreme form--"that loyalty is a virtue or moral

duty; and disloyalty or rebellion, in the most strict and proper sense,

a vice or crime against the law of nature." [768]

It belonged to the overstrung temperament of Berkeley that, like

a nervous artist, he should figure to himself all his freethinking

antagonists as personally odious, himself growing odious under the

obsession; and he solemnly asserts, in his Discourse to Magistrates,

that there had been "lately set up within this city of Dublin" an

"execrable fraternity of blasphemers," calling themselves "blasters,"

and forming "a distinct society, whereof the proper and avowed business

shall be to shock all serious Christians by the most impious and

horrid blasphemies, uttered in the most public manner." [769] There

appears to be not a grain of truth in this astonishing assertion,

to which no subsequent historian has paid the slightest attention. In

a period in which freethinking books had been again and again burned

in Dublin by the public hangman, such a society could be projected

only in a nightmare; and Berkeley's hallucination may serve as a

sign of the extent to which his judgment had been deranged by his

passions. [770] His forensic temper is really on a level with that

of the most incompetent swashbucklers on his side.

When educated Christians could be so habitually envenomed as was

Berkeley, there was doubtless a measure of contrary heat among English

unbelievers; but, apart altogether from what could be described as

blasphemy, unbelief abounded in the most cultured society of the

day. Bolingbroke's rationalism had been privately well known; and so

distinguished a personage as the brilliant and scholarly Lady Mary

Wortley Montagu, hated by Pope, is one of the reputed freethinkers

of her time. [771] In the very year of the publication of Berkeley's

Minute Philosopher, the first two epistles of the Essay on Man of

his own friend and admirer, Pope, gave a new currency to the form

of optimistic deism created by Shaftesbury, and later elaborated by

Bolingbroke. Pope was always anxiously hostile in his allusions to the

professed freethinkers [772]--among whom Bolingbroke only posthumously

enrolled himself--and in private he specially aspersed Shaftesbury,

from whom he had taken so much; [773] but his prudential tactic gave

all the more currency to the virtual deism he enunciated. Given out

without any critical allusion to Christianity, and put forward as a

vindication of the ways of God to men, it gave to heresy, albeit in

a philosophically incoherent exposition, the status of a well-bred

piety. A good authority pronounces that "the Essay on Man did more to

spread English deism in France than all the works of Shaftesbury";

[774] and we have explicit testimony that the poet privately avowed

the deistic view of things. [775]

The line of the Essay which now reads:

The soul, uneasy and confined from home,

originally ran "at home"; but, says Warton, "this expression

seeming to exclude a future existence, as, to speak the plain

truth, it was intended to do, it was altered"--presumably

by Warburton. (Warton's Essay on Pope, 4th ed. ii, 67.) The

Spinozistic or pantheistic character of much of the Essay

on Man was noted by various critics, in particular by the

French Academician De Crousaz (Examen de l'Essay de M. Pope sur

l'Homme, 1748, p. 90, etc.) After promising to justify the ways

of God to man, writes Crousaz (p. 33), Pope turns round and

justifies man, leaving God charged with all men's sins. When

the younger Racine, writing to the Chevalier Ramsay in 1742,

charged the Essay with irreligion, Pope wrote him repudiating

alike Spinoza and Leibnitz. (Warton, ii, 121.) In 1755, however,

the Abbé Gauchat renewed the attack, declaring that the Essay

was "neither Christian nor philosophic" (Lettres Critiques, i,

346). Warburton at first charged the poem with rank atheism, and

afterwards vindicated it in his manner. (Warton, i, 125.) But in

Germany, in the youth of Goethe, we find the Essay regarded by

Christians as an unequivocally deistic poem. (Goethe's Wahrheit

und Dichtung, Th. II, B. vii: Werke, ed. 1866, xi, 263.) And

by a modern Christian polemist the Essay is described as "the

best positive result of English deism in the eighteenth century"

(Gostwick, German Culture and Christianity, 1882, p. 31).

In point of fact, deism was the fashionable way of thinking among

cultured people. Though Voltaire testifies from personal knowledge

that there were in England in his day many principled atheists, [776]

there was little overt atheism, [777] whether by reason of the special

odium attaching to that way of thought, or of a real production of

theistic belief by the concurrence of the deistic propaganda on this

head with that of the clergy, themselves in so many cases deists. [778]

Bishop Burnet, in the Conclusion to the History of his Own Time,

pronounces that "there are few atheists, but many infidels, who are

indeed very little better than the atheists." Collins observed that

nobody had doubted the existence of God until the Boyle lecturers

began to prove it; and Clarke had more than justified the jest by

arguing, in his Boyle Lectures for 1705, that all deism logically

leads to atheism. But though the apologists roused much discussion on

the theistic issue, the stress of the apologetic literature passed

from the theme of atheism to that of deism. Shaftesbury's early

Inquiry Concerning Virtue had assumed the existence of a good deal

of atheism; but his later writings, and those of his school, do not

indicate much atheistic opposition. [779] Even the revived discussion

on the immateriality and immortality of the soul--which began with

the Grand Essay of Dr. William Coward, [780] in 1704, and was taken

up, as we have seen, by the non-juror Dodwell [781]--was conducted

on either orthodox or deistic lines. Coward wrote as a professed

Christian, [782] to maintain, "against impostures of philosophy,"

that "matter and motion must be the foundation of thought in men

and brutes." Collins maintained against Clarke the proposition that

matter is capable of thought; and Samuel Strutt ("of the Temple"),

whose Philosophical Inquiry into the Physical Spring of Human Actions,

and the Immediate Cause of Thinking (1732), is a most tersely cogent

sequence of materialistic argument, never raises any question of

deity. The result was that the problem of "materialism" was virtually

dropped, Strutt's essay in particular passing into general oblivion.

It was replied to, however, with the Inquiry of Collins, as late

as 1760, by a Christian controversialist who admits Strutt to

have been "a gentleman of an excellent genius for philosophical

inquiries, and a close reasoner from those principles he laid

down" (An Essay towards demonstrating the Immateriality and Free

Agency of the Soul, 1760, p. 94). The Rev. Mr. Monk, in his Life

of Bentley (2nd ed. 1833, ii, 391), absurdly speaks of Strutt as

having "dressed up the arguments of Lord Herbert of Cherbury and

other enemies of religion in a new shape." The reverend gentleman

cannot have paid any attention to the arguments either of Herbert

or of Strutt, which have no more in common than those of Toland

and Hume. Strutt's book was much too closely reasoned to be

popular. His name was for the time, however, associated with a

famous scandal at Cambridge University. When in 1739 proceedings

were taken against what was described as an "atheistical society"

there, Strutt was spoken of as its "oracle." One of the members

was Paul Whitehead, satirized by Pope. Another, Tinkler Ducket,

a Fellow of Caius College, in holy orders, was prosecuted in the

Vice-Chancellor's Court on the twofold charge of proselytizing for

atheism and of attempting to seduce a "female." In his defence he

explained that he had been for some time "once more a believer in

God and Christianity"; but was nevertheless expelled. See Monk's

Life of Bentley, as cited, ii, 391 sq.

§ 5

No less marked is the failure to develop the "higher criticism" from

the notable start made in 1739 in the very remarkable Inquiry into

the Jewish and Christian Revelations by Samuel Parvish, who made the

vital discovery that Deuteronomy is a product of the seventh century

B.C. [783] His book, which is in the form of a dialogue between a

Christian and a Japanese, went into a second edition (1746); but his

idea struck too deep for the critical faculty of that age, and not

till the nineteenth century was the clue found again by De Wette, in

Germany. [784] Parvish came at the end of the main deistic movement,

[785] and by that time the more open-minded men had come to a point of

view from which it did not greatly matter when Deuteronomy was written,

or precisely how a cultus was built up; while orthodoxy could not dream

of abandoning its view of inspiration. There was thus an arrest alike

of historical criticism and of the higher philosophic thought under

the stress of the concrete disputes over ethics, miracles, prophecy,

and politics; and a habit of taking deity for granted became normal,

with the result that when the weak point was pressed upon by Law and

Butler there was a sense of blankness on both sides. But among men

theistically inclined, the argument of Tindal against revelationism

was extremely telling, and it had more literary impressiveness

than any writing on the orthodox side before Butler. By this time

the philosophic influence of Spinoza--seen as early as 1699 in

Shaftesbury's Inquiry Concerning Virtue, [786] and avowed by Clarke

when he addressed his Demonstration (1705) "more particularly in

answer to Mr. Hobbs, Spinoza, and their followers"--had spread among

the studious class, greatly reinforcing the deistic movement; so that

in 1732 Berkeley, who ranked him among "weak and wicked writers,"

described him as "the great leader of our modern infidels."

See the Minute Philosopher, Dial. vii, § 29. Similarly Leland,

in the Supplement (1756) to his View of the Deistical Writers

(afterwards incorporated as Letter VI), speaks of Spinoza as "the

most applauded doctor of modern atheism." Sir Leslie Stephen's

opinion (English Thought, i, 33), that "few of the deists,

probably," read Spinoza, seems to be thus outweighed. If they

did not in great numbers read the Ethica, they certainly read the

Tractatus and the letters. As early as 1677 we find Stillingfleet,

in the preface to his Letter to a Deist, speaking of Spinoza as

"a late author [who] I hear is mightily in vogue among many who

cry up anything on the atheistical side, though never so weak

and trifling"; and further of a mooted proposal to translate the

Tractatus Theologico-Politicus into English. A translation was

published in 1689. In 1685 the Scotch Professor George Sinclar,

in the "Preface to the Reader" of his Satan's Invisible World

Discovered, writes that "There are a monstrous rabble of men,

who following the Hobbesian and Spinosian principles, slight

religion and undervalue the Scripture," etc. In Gildon's work of

recantation, The Deist's Manual (1705, p. 192), the indifferent

Pleonexus, who "took more delight in bags than in books,"

and demurs to accumulating the latter, avows that he has a few,

among them being Hobbes and Spinoza. Evelyn, writing about 1680-90,

speaks of "that infamous book, the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus,"

as "a wretched obstacle to the searchers of holy truth" (The

History of Religion, 1850, p. xxvii). Cp. Halyburton, Natural

Religion Insufficient, Edinburgh, 1714, p. 31, as to the "great

vogue among our young Gentry and Students" of Hobbes, Spinoza,

and others.

§ 6

Among the deists of the upper classes was the young William Pitt,

afterwards Lord Chatham, if, as has been alleged, it was he who in

1733, two years before he entered Parliament, contributed to the

London Journal a "Letter on Superstition," the work of a pronounced

freethinker. [787] On the other hand, such deistic writing as that

with which Chubb, in a multitude of tracts, followed up his early

Unitarian essay of 1715, brought an ethical "Christian rationalism"

within the range of the unscholarly many. Thomas Morgan (d. 1741),

a physician, began in the Moral Philosopher, 1739-1740, [788] to

sketch a rationalistic theory of Christian origins, besides putting

the critical case with new completeness. Morgan had been at one time a

dissenting minister at Frome, Somerset, and had been dismissed because

of his deistical opinions. Towards the Jehovah and the ethic of the

Old Testament he holds, however, the attitude rather of an ancient

Gnostic than of a modern rationalist; and in his philosophy he is

either a very "godly" deist or a pantheist miscarried. [789]

At the same time Peter Annet (1693-1769), a schoolmaster and

inventor of a system of shorthand, widened the propaganda in other

directions. He seems to have been the first freethought lecturer, for

his first pamphlet, Judging for Ourselves: or, Freethinking the Great

Duty of Religion, "By P. A., Minister of the Gospel" (1739), consists

of "Two Lectures delivered at Plaisterers' Hall." Through all his

propaganda, of which the more notable portions are his Supernaturals

Examined and a series of controversies on the Resurrection, there runs

a train of shrewd critical sense, put forth in crisp and vivacious

English, which made him a popular force. What he lacked was the

due gravity and dignity for the handling of such a theme as the

reversal of a nation's faith. Like Woolston, he is facetious where

he should be serious; entertaining where he had need be impressive;

provocative where he should have aimed at persuasion. We cannot say

what types he influenced, or how deep his influence went: it appears

only that he swayed many whose suffrages weighed little. At length,

when in 1761 he issued nine numbers of The Free Inquirer, in which

he attacked the Pentateuch with much insight and cogency, but with

a certain want of rational balance (shown also in his treatise,

Social Bliss Considered, 1749), he was made a victim of the then

strengthened spirit of persecution, being sentenced to stand thrice

in the pillory with the label "For Blasphemy," and to suffer a year's

hard labour. Nevertheless, he was popular enough to start a school

on his release.

Such popularity, of course, was alien to the literary and social

traditions of the century; and from the literary point of view the main

line of deistic propaganda, as apart from the essays and treatises of

Hume and the posthumous works of Bolingbroke, ends with the younger

Henry Dodwell's (anonymous) ironical essay, Christianity not Founded

on Argument (1741). So rigorously congruous is the reasoning of that

brilliant treatise that some have not quite unjustifiably taken it

for the work of a dogmatic believer, standing at some such position

as that taken up before him by Huet, and in recent times by Cardinal

Newman. [790] He argues, for instance, not merely that reason can yield

none of the confidence which belongs to true faith, but that it cannot

duly strengthen the moral will against temptations. [791] But the book

at once elicited a number of replies, all treating it unhesitatingly

as an anti-Christian work; and Leland assails it as bitterly as he

does any openly freethinking treatise. [792] Its thesis might have

been seriously supported by reference to the intellectual history

of the preceding thirty years, wherein much argument had certainly

failed to establish the reigning creed or to discredit the unbelievers.

§ 7

Of the work done by English deism thus far, it may suffice to say that

within two generations it had more profoundly altered the intellectual

temper of educated men than any religious movement had ever done in

the same time. This appears above all from the literature produced

by orthodoxy in reply, where the mere defensive resort to reasoning,

apart from the accounts of current rationalism, outgoes anything

in the previous history of literature. The whole evolution is a

remarkable instance of the effect on intellectual progress of the

diversion of a nation's general energy from war and intense political

faction to mental activities. A similar diversion had taken place

at the Restoration, to be followed by a return to civil and foreign

strife, which arrested it. It was in the closing years of Anne, and

in the steady régime of Walpole under the first two Georges, that the

ferment worked at its height. Collins's Discourse of Freethinking was

synchronous with the Peace of Utrecht: the era of war re-opened in

1739, much against the will of Walpole, who resigned in 1742. Home and

foreign wars thereafter became common; and in 1751 Clive opened the

period of imperialistic expansion, determining national developments

on that main line, concurrently with that of the new industry. Could

the discussion have been continuous--could England have remained what

she was in the main deistic period, a workshop of investigation and

a battleground of ideas--all European development might have been

indefinitely hastened. But the deists, for the most part educated

men appealing to educated men or to the shrewdest readers among the

artisans, had not learned to reckon with the greater social forces;

and beyond a certain point they could not affect England's intellectual

destinies.

It is worse than idle to argue that "the true cause of the decay of

deism is to be sought in its internal weakness," in the sense that

"it was not rooted in the deepest convictions, nor associated with

the most powerful emotions of its adherents." [793] No such charge

can be even partially proved. The deists were at least as much in

earnest as two-thirds of the clergy: the determining difference,

in this regard, was the economic basis of the latter, and their

social hold of an ignorant population. The clergy, who could not

argue the deists down in the court of culture, had in their own

jurisdiction the great mass of the uneducated lower classes, and

the great mass of the women of all classes, whom the ideals of the

age kept uneducated, with a difference. And while the more cultured

clergy were themselves in large measure deists, the majority, in

the country parishes, remained uncritical and unreflective, caring

little even to cultivate belief among their flocks. The "contempt of

the clergy" which had subsisted from the middle of the seventeenth

century (if, indeed, it should not be dated from the middle of the

sixteenth) meant among other things that popular culture remained on

a lower plane. With the multitude remaining a ready hotbed for new

"enthusiasm," and the women of the middle and upper orders no less

ready nurturers of new generations of young believers, the work of

emancipation was but begun when deism was made "fashionable." And with

England on the way to a new era at once of industrial and imperial

expansion, in which the energies that for a generation had made her

a leader of European thought were diverted to arms and to commerce,

the critical and rationalizing work of the deistical generation could

not go on as it had begun. That generation left its specific mark

on the statute-book in a complete repeal of the old laws relating to

witchcraft; [794] on literature in a whole library of propaganda and

apology; on moral and historic science in a new movement of humanism,

which was to find its check in the French Revolution.

How it affected the general intelligence for good may be partly

gathered from a comparison of the common English political

attitudes towards Ireland in the first and the last quarters of

the century. Under William was wrought the arrest of Irish industry

and commerce, begun after the Restoration; under Anne were enacted

the penal laws against Catholics--as signal an example of religious

iniquity as can well be found in all history. By the middle of the

century these laws had become anachronisms for all save bigots.

"The wave of freethought that was spreading over Europe and

permeating its literature had not failed to affect Ireland.... An

atmosphere of skepticism was fatal to the Penal Code. What element

of religious persecution there had been in it had long ceased to be

operative" (R. Dunlop, in Camb. Mod. Hist. vi, 489). Macaulay's

testimony on this head is noteworthy: "The philosophy of the

eighteenth century had purified English Whiggism of the deep

taint of intolerance which had been contracted during a long and

close alliance with the Puritanism of the eighteenth century"

(History, ch. xvii, end).

The denunciations of the penal laws by Arthur Young in 1780 [795]

are the outcome of two generations of deistic thinking; the spirit

of religion has been ousted by judgment. [796] Could that spirit have

had freer play, less hindrance from blind passion, later history would

have been a happier record. But for reasons lying in the environment

as well as in its own standpoint, deism was not destined to rise on

continuous stepping-stones to social dominion.

Currency has been given to a misconception of intellectual history

by the authoritative statement that in the deistic controversy

"all that was intellectually venerable in England" appeared

"on the side of Christianity" (Sir Leslie Stephen, English

Thought in the Eighteenth Century, i, 86). The same thing,

in effect, is said by Lecky: "It was to repel these [deistic]

attacks ['upon the miracles'] that the evidential school arose,

and the annals of religious controversy narrate few more complete

victories than they achieved" (Rise and Influence of Rationalism,

pop. ed. i, 175). The proposition seems to be an echo of orthodox

historiography, as Buckle had before written in his note-book:

"In England skepticism made no head. Such men as Toland and

Tindal, Collins, Shaftesbury, Woolston, were no match for Clarke,

Warburton, and Lardner. They could make no head till the time

of Middleton" (Misc. Works, abridged ed. i, 321)--a strain

of assertion which clearly proceeds on no close study of the

period. In the first place, all the writing on the freethinking

side was done under peril of Blasphemy Laws, and under menace of

all the calumny and ostracism that in Christian society follow

on advanced heresy; while the orthodox side could draw on the

entire clerical profession, over ten thousand strong, and trained

for and pledged to defence of the faith. Yet, when all is said,

the ordinary list of deists amply suffices to disprove Sir

L. Stephen's phrase. His "intellectually venerable" list runs:

Bentley, Locke, Berkeley, Clarke, Butler, Waterland, Warburton,

Sherlock, Gibson, Conybeare, Smalbroke, Leslie, Law, Leland,

Lardner, Foster, Doddridge, Lyttelton, Barrington, Addison, Pope,

Swift. He might have added Newton and Boyle. Sykes, [797] Balguy,

Stebbing, and a "host of others," he declares to be "now for the

most part as much forgotten as their victims"; Young and Blackmore

he admits to be in similar case. It is expressly told of Doddridge,

he might have added, that whereas that well-meaning apologist

put before his students at Northampton the ablest writings both

for and against Christianity, leaving them to draw their own

conclusions, many of his pupils, "on leaving his institution,

became confirmed Arians and Socinians" (Nichols in App. P to Life

of Arminius--Works of Arminius, 1825, i, 223-25). This hardly

spells success. [798] All told, the list includes only three or

four men of any permanent interest as thinkers, apart from Newton;

and only three or four more important as writers. The description

of Waterland, [799] Warburton, [800] Smalbroke, [801] Sherlock,

Leslie, and half-a-dozen more as "intellectually venerable"

is grotesque; even Bentley is a strange subject for veneration.

On the other hand, the list of "the despised deists," who "make

but a poor show when compared with this imposing list," runs thus:

Herbert, Hobbes, Blount, Halley (well known to be an unbeliever,

though he did not write on the subject), Toland, Shaftesbury,

Collins, Mandeville, Tindal, Chubb, Morgan, Dodwell, Middleton,

Hume, Bolingbroke, Gibbon. It would be interesting to know on

what principles this group is excluded from the intellectual

veneration so liberally allotted to the other. It is nothing

to the purpose that Shaftesbury and Mandeville wrote "covertly"

and "indirectly." The law and the conditions compelled them to do

so. It is still more beside the case to say that "Hume can scarcely

be reckoned among the deists. He is already [when?] emerging

into a higher atmosphere." Hume wrote explicitly as a deist;

and only in his posthumous Dialogues did he pass on to the

atheistic position. At no time, moreover, was he "on the side of

Christianity." On the other hand, Locke and Clarke and Pope were

clearly "emerging into a higher atmosphere" than Christianity,

since Locke is commonly reckoned by the culture-historians,

and even by Sir Leslie Stephen, as making for deism; Pope was

the pupil of Bolingbroke, and wrote as such; and Clarke was

shunned as an Arian. Newton, again, was a Unitarian, and Leibnitz

accused his system of making for irreligion. It would be hard

to show, further, who are the "forgotten victims" of Balguy and

the rest. Balguy criticized Shaftesbury, whose name is still a

good deal better known than Balguy's. The main line of deists is

pretty well remembered. And if we pair off Hume against Berkeley,

Hobbes against Locke, Middleton (as historical critic) against

Bentley, Shaftesbury against Addison, Mandeville against Swift,

Bolingbroke against Butler, Collins against Clarke, Herbert against

Lyttelton, Tindal against Waterland, and Gibbon against--shall

we say?--Warburton, it hardly appears that the overplus of merit

goes as Sir Leslie Stephen alleges, even if we leave Newton,

with brain unhinged, standing against Halley. The statement that

the deists "are but a ragged regiment," and that "in speculative

ability most of them were children by the side of their ablest

antagonists," is simply unintelligible unless the names of all

the ablest deists are left out. Locke, be it remembered, did not

live to meet the main deistic attack on Christianity; and Sir

Leslie admits the weakness of his pro-Christian performance.

The bases of Sir Leslie Stephen's verdict may be tested by his

remarks that "Collins, a respectable country gentleman, showed

considerable acuteness; Toland, a poor denizen of Grub Street, and

Tindal, a Fellow of All Souls, made a certain display of learning,

and succeeded in planting some effective arguments." Elsewhere

(pp. 217-227) Sir Leslie admits that Collins had the best of the

argument against his "venerable" opponents on Prophecy; and Huxley

credits him with equal success in the argument with Clarke. The

work of Collins on Human Liberty, praised by a long series of

students and experts, and entirely above the capacity of Bentley,

is philosophically as durable as any portion of Locke, who made

Collins his chosen friend and trustee, and who did not live to

meet his anti-Biblical arguments. Tindal, who had also won Locke's

high praise by his political essays, profoundly influenced such

a student as Laukhard (Lechler, p. 451). And Toland, whom even

Mr. A. S. Farrar (Bampton Lectures, p. 179) admitted to possess

"much originality and learning," has struck Lange as a notable

thinker, though he was a poor man. Leibnitz, who answered him,

praises his acuteness, as does Pusey, who further admits the

uncommon ability of Morgan and Collins (Histor. Enq. into German

Rationalism, 1828, p. 126). It is time that the conventional

English standards in these matters should be abandoned by modern

rationalists.

The unfortunate effect of Sir Leslie Stephen's dictum is

seen in the assertion of Prof. Höffding (Hist. of Modern

Philos. Eng. tr. 1900, i, 403), that Sir Leslie "rightly remarks

of the English deists that they were altogether inferior to their

adversaries"; and further (p. 405), that by the later deists,

"Collins, Tindal, Morgan, etc., the dispute as to miracles

was carried on with great violence." It is here evident that

Prof. Höffding has not read the writers he depreciates, for those

he names were far from being violent. Had he known the literature,

he would have named Woolston, not Collins and Tindal and Morgan. He

is merely echoing, without inquiring for himself, a judgment which

he regards as authoritative. In the same passage he declares that

"only one of all the men formerly known as the 'English deists'

[Toland] has rendered contributions of any value to the history

of thought." If this is said with a knowledge of the works of

Collins, Shaftesbury, and Mandeville, it argues a sad lack of

critical judgment. But there is reason to infer here also that

Prof. Höffding writes in ignorance of the literature he discusses.

While some professed rationalists thus belittle a series of

pioneers who did so much to make later rationalism possible, some

eminent theologians do them justice. Thus does Prof. Cheyne begin

his series of lectures on Founders of Old Testament Criticism

(1893): "A well-known and honoured representative of progressive

German orthodoxy (J. A. Dorner) has set a fine example of

historical candour by admitting the obligations of his country to

a much-disliked form of English heterodoxy. He says that English

deism, which found so many apt disciples in Germany, 'by clearing

away dead matter, prepared the way for a reconstruction of theology

from the very depths of the heart's beliefs, and also subjected

man's nature to stricter observation.' [802] This, however, as it

appears to me, is a very inadequate description of the facts. It

was not merely a new constructive stage of German theoretic

theology, and a keener psychological investigation, for which deism

helped to prepare the way, but also a great movement, which has in

our own day become in a strict sense international, concerned with

the literary and historical criticism of the Scriptures. Beyond

all doubt, the Biblical discussions which abound in the works of

the deists and their opponents contributed in no slight degree

to the development of that semi-apologetic criticism of the

Old Testament of which J. D. Michaelis, and in some degree even

Eichhorn, were leading representatives.... It is indeed singular

that deism should have passed away in England without having

produced a great critical movement among ourselves." Not quite

so singular, perhaps, when we note that in our own day Sir Leslie

Stephen and Lecky and Prof. Höffding could sum up the work of the

deists without a glance at what it meant for Biblical criticism.

§ 8

If we were to set up a theory of intellectual possibilities from

what has actually taken place in the history of thought, and without

regard to the economic and political conditions above mentioned, we

might reason that deism failed permanently to overthrow the current

creed because it was not properly preceded by discipline in natural

science. There might well be stagnation in the higher criticism of

the Hebrew Scriptures when all natural science was still coloured

by them. In nothing, perhaps, is the danger of Sacred Books more

fully exemplified than in their influence for the suppression of

true scientific thought. A hundredfold more potently than the faiths

of ancient Greece has that of Christendom blocked the way to all

intellectually vital discovery. If even the fame and the pietism

of Newton could not save him from the charge of promoting atheism,

much less could obscure men hope to set up any view of natural things

which clashed with pulpit prejudice. But the harm lay deeper, inasmuch

as the ground was preoccupied by pseudo-scientific theories which

were at best fanciful modifications of the myths of Genesis. Types

of these performances are the treatise of Sir Matthew Hale on The

Primitive Origination of Mankind (1685); Dr. Thomas Burnet's Sacred

Theory of the Earth (1680-1689); and Whiston's New Theory of the

Earth (1696)--all devoid of scientific value; Hale's work being

pre-Newtonian; Burnet's anti-Newtonian, though partly critical as

regards the sources of the Pentateuch; and Whiston's a combination

of Newton and myth with his own quaint speculations. Even the Natural

History of the Earth of Prof. John Woodward (1695), after recognizing

that fossils were really prehistoric remains, decided that they were

deposited by the Deluge. [803]

Woodward's book is in its own way instructive as regards the history

of opinion. A "Professor of Physick" in Gresham College, F.C.P.,

and F.R.S., he goes about his work in a methodical and ostensibly

scientific fashion, colligates the phenomena, examines temperately

the hypotheses of the many previous inquirers, and shows no violence

of orthodox prepossession. He claims to have considered Moses "only

as an historian," and to give him credit finally because he finds his

narrative "punctually true." [804] He had before him an abundance of

facts irreconcilable with the explanation offered by the Flood story;

yet he actually adds to that myth a thesis of universal decomposition

and dissolution of the earth's strata by the flood's action [805]--a

hypothesis far more extravagant than any of those he dismissed. With

all his method and scrutiny he had remained possessed by the tradition,

and could not cast it off. It would seem as if such a book, reducing

the tradition to an absurdity, was bound at least to put its more

thoughtful readers on the right track. But the legend remained in

possession of the general intelligence as of Woodward's; and beyond

his standpoint science made little advance for many years. Moral and

historical criticism, then, as regards some main issues, had gone

further than scientific; and men's thinking on certain problems of

cosmic philosophy was thus arrested for lack of due basis or discipline

in experiential science.

The final account of the arrest of exact Biblical criticism in the

eighteenth century, however, is that which explains also the arrest

of the sciences. English energy, broadly speaking, was diverted

into other channels. In the age of Chatham it became more and

more military and industrial, imperialist and commercial; and the

scientific work of Newton was considerably less developed by English

hands than was the critical work of the first deists. Long before

the French Revolution, mathematical and astronomical science were

being advanced by French minds, the English doing nothing. Lagrange

and Euler, Clairaut and D'Alembert, carried on the task, till Laplace

consummated it in his great theory, which is to Newton's what Newton's

was to that of Copernicus. It was Frenchmen, freethinkers to a man,

who built up the new astronomy, while England was producing only

eulogies of Newton's greatness. "No British name is ever mentioned

in the list of mathematicians who followed Newton in his brilliant

career and completed the magnificent edifice of which he laid the

foundation." [806] "Scotland contributed her Maclaurin, but England

no European name." [807] Throughout the latter half of the eighteenth

century "there was hardly an individual in this country who possessed

an intimate acquaintance with the methods of investigation which had

conducted the foreign mathematicians to so many sublime results." [808]

"The English mathematicians seem to have been so dazzled with the

splendour of Newton's discoveries that they never conceived them

capable of being extended or improved upon"; [809] and Newton's

name was all the while vaunted, unwarrantably enough, as being on

the side of Christian orthodoxy. Halley's great hypothesis of the

motion of the solar system in space, put forward in 1718, borne out

by Cassini and Le Monnier, was left to be established by Mayer of

Göttingen. [810] There was nothing specially incidental to deism,

then, in the non-development of the higher criticism in England

after Collins and Parvish, or in the lull of critical speculation

in the latter half of the century. It was part of a general social

readjustment in which English attention was turned from the mental

life to the physical, from intension of thought to extension of empire.

Playfair (as cited, p. 39; Brewster, Memoirs of Newton, i,

348, note) puts forward the theory that the progress of the

higher science in France was due to the "small pensions and great

honours" bestowed on scientific men by the Academy of Sciences. The

lack of such an institution in England he traces to "mercantile

prejudices," without explaining these in their turn. They are

to be understood as the consequences of the special expansion

of commercial and industrial life in England in the eighteenth

century, when France, on the contrary, losing India and North

America, had her energies in a proportional degree thrown back on

the life of the mind. French freethought, it will be observed,

expanded with science, while in England there occurred, not

a spontaneous reversion to orthodoxy any more than a surrender

of the doctrine of Newton, but a general turning of attention in

other directions. It is significant that the most important names

in the literature of deism after 1740 are those of Hume and Smith,

late products of the intellectual atmosphere of pre-industrial

Scotland; of Bolingbroke, an aristocrat of the deistic generation,

long an exile in France, who left his works to be published after

his death; and of Gibbon, who also breathed the intellectual air

of France.

§ 9

It has been commonly assumed that after Chubb and Morgan the

deistic movement in England "decayed," or "passed into skepticism"

with Hume; and that the decay was mainly owing to the persuasive

effect of Bishop Butler's Analogy (1736). [811] This appears to be

a complete misconception, arising out of the habit of looking to

the mere succession of books without considering their vogue and the

accompanying social conditions. Butler's book had very little influence

till long after his death, [812] being indeed very ill-fitted to turn

contemporary deists to Christianity. It does but develop one form of

the skeptical argument for faith, as Berkeley had developed another;

and that form of reasoning never does attain to anything better

than a success of despair. The main argument being that natural

religion is open to the same objections as revealed, on the score

(1) of the inconsistency of Nature with divine benevolence, and

(2) that we must be guided in opinion as in conduct by probability,

a Mohammedan could as well use the theorem for the Koran as could

a Christian for the Bible; and the argument against the justice of

Nature tended logically to atheism. But the deists had left to them

the resource of our modern theists--that of surmising a beneficence

above human comprehension; and it is clear that if Butler made any

converts they must have been of a very unenthusiastic kind. It is

therefore safe to say with Pattison that "To whatever causes is

to be attributed the decline of deism from 1750 onwards, the books

polemically written against it cannot be reckoned among them." [813]

On the other hand, even deists who were affected by the plea that the

Bible need not be more consistent and satisfactory than Nature, could

find refuge in Unitarianism, a creed which, as industriously propounded

by Priestley [814] towards the end of the century, made a numerical

progress out of all proportion to that of orthodoxy. The argument

of William Law, [815] again, which insisted on the irreconcilability

of the course of things with human reason, and called for an abject

submission to revelation, could appeal only to minds already thus

prostrate. Both his and Butler's methods, in fact, prepared the way

for Hume. And in the year 1741, five years after the issue of the

Analogy and seven before the issue of Hume's Essay on Miracles, we

find the thesis of that essay tersely affirmed in a note to Book II

of an anonymous translation (ascribed to T. Francklin) of Cicero's

De Natura Deorum.

A Short History of Freethought Ancient and Modern, Volume 2 of 2 Third edition, Revised and Expanded, in two volumes · 第 13 / 25 章