In the _Moral Sentiments_ and his other writings there are plenty of passages to indicate that he was a theist with a belief rather more active and definite than that of his friend Hume or of his master Aristotle, but few or none that he was a Christian. As professor he had to sign the Westminster Confession of Faith, a perfunctory act which even Hume would readily have performed without the scandal that surrounded Jowett’s cynical subscription a century later. But it was noticed by the orthodox that he was sadly wanting in zeal. Hutcheson, doubtless with the purpose of naturalising theology, had conducted a Sunday class on Christian evidences. Adam Smith discontinued this practice, and it was even whispered that he had applied to the authorities shortly after his appointment to be excused from opening his class with prayer. The request was refused, but the results were not satisfactory; for according to a contemporary, John Ramsay of Ochtertyre, his opening prayers “savoured strongly of natural religion,” while his theological lectures, though shorter, were no less flattering to human pride than those of Hutcheson, and led “presumptuous striplings” to draw the unwarranted conclusion “that the great truths of theology, together with the duties which man owes to God and his neighbours, may be discovered by the light of nature without any special revelation.” He was also, they say, often seen to smile openly during divine service in his place in the college chapel. When one remembers what orthodox Scottish sermons at that time meant, it is safe to conjecture that the smile was not always due (as Ramsay would have it) to an absent thought.