didly concise eloquence of
Diderot, who touched the work with a master-hand. Nor did this powerful
book represent a tithe of D'Holbach's labors for the "good old cause."
His active pen produced a score of other works, under various names
and disguises, all addressed to the same object--the destruction
of superstition and the emancipation of the human mind. They were
extensively circulated, and must have created a powerful impression on
the reading public.

Leaving its authors and precursors, and coming to the Revolution itself,
we find that its most distinguished figures were Atheists. Mirabeau,
the first Titan of the struggle, was a godless statesman. In him the
multitude found a master, who ruled it by his genius and eloquence,
and his embodiment of its aspirations. The crowned king of France was
pottering in his palace, but the real king reigned in the National
Assembly.

The Girondists were nearly all Atheists, from Condorcet and Madame
Roland down to the obscurest victims of the Terror who went gaily to
their doom with the hymn of freedom upon their proud lips. Danton also,
the second Titan of the Revolution, was an Atheist. He fell in trying
to stop the bloodshed, which Robespierre, the Deist, continued until it
drowned him. With Danton there went to the guillotine another Atheist,
bright, witty Camille Desmoulins, whose exquisite pen had served the
cause well, and whose warm poet's blood was destined to gush out under
the fatal knife. Other names crowd upon us, too numerous to recite.
To give them all would be to write a catalogue of the revolutionary
leaders.

Atheism was the very spirit of the Revolution. This has been admitted
by Christian writers, who have sought revenge by libelling the movement.
Their slanders are manifold, but we select two which are found most
impressive at orthodox meetings.

It is stated that the Revolutionists organised a worship of the Goddess
of Reason, that they went in procession to Notre Dame, where a naked
woman acted the part of the goddess, while Chenier's _Ode_ was chanted
by the Convention. Now there is a good deal of smoke in this story and
very little flame. The naked female is a pious invention, and that being
gone, the calumny is robbed of its sting. Demoiselle Candeille,
an actress, was selected for her beauty; but she was not a "harlot," and
she was not undressed. Whoever turns to such an accessible account as
Carlyle's will see that the apologists of Christianity