gainst religion itself. "There is danger," says Barbier in
1751, "that this may end seriously; we may some day see a revolution in
this country in favor of Protestantism."[4217] "The hatred against
the priests," writes d'Argenson in 1753, "is carried to extremes. They
scarcely show themselves in the streets without being hooted at. . . .As
our nation and our century are quite otherwise enlightened (than in
the time of Luther), it will be carried far enough; they will expel the
priests, abolish the priesthood and get rid of all revelation and all
mystery. . . . One dare not speak in behalf of the clergy in
social circles; one is scoffed at and regarded as a familiar of the
inquisition. The priests remark that, this year, there is a diminution
of more than one-third in the number of communicants. The College of
the Jesuits is being deserted; one hundred and twenty boarders have been
withdrawn from these so greatly defamed monks. It has been observed also
that, during the carnival in Paris, the number of masks counterfeiting
ecclesiastical dress, bishops, abbes, monks and nuns, was never so
great."--So deep is this antipathy, the most mediocre books become the
rage so long as they are anti-Christian and condemned as such. In 1748
a work by Toussaint called "Les Moeurs," in favor of natural religion,
suddenly becomes so famous, "that there is no one among a certain
class of people," writes Barbier, "man or woman, pretending to be
intellectual, who is not eager to read it." People accost each other on
their promenades, Have you read "Les Moeurs"?--Ten years later they
are beyond deism. "Materialism," Barbier further said, "is the great
grievance. . . . " "Almost all people of erudition and taste, writes
d'Argenson, "inveigh against our holy religion. . . . It is attacked on
all sides, and what animates unbelievers still more is the efforts made
by the devout to compel belief. They publish books which are but little
read; debates no longer take place, everything being laughed at, while
people persist in materialism." Horace Walpole, who returns to France in
1765,[4218] and whose good sense anticipates the danger, is astonished
at such imprudence: "I dined to day with a dozen scholars and
scientists, and although all the servants were around us and listening,
the conversation was much more unrestrained, even on the Old Testament,
than I would allow at my own table in England even if a single footman
was present." People dogmatiz