from the injury received in the struggle with Port-Royal. It was
now still more rudely assailed by the philosophers. Its spirit
was broken; its reputation was tainted. Insulted by all the men
of genius in Europe, condemned by the civil magistrate, feebly
defended by the chiefs of the hierarchy, it fell: and great was
the fall of it.

The movement went on with increasing speed. The first generation
of the new sect passed away. The doctrines of Voltaire were
inherited and exaggerated by successors, who bore to him the same
relation which the Anabaptists bore to Luther, or the Fifth-
Monarchy men to Pym. At length the Revolution came. Down went the
old Church of France, with all its pomp and wealth. Some of its
priests purchased a maintenance by separating themselves from
Rome, and by becoming the authors of a fresh schism. Some,
rejoicing in the new licence, flung away their sacred vestments,
proclaimed that their whole life had been an imposture, insulted
and persecuted the religion of which they had been ministers, and
distinguished themselves, even in the Jacobin Club and the
Commune of Paris, by the excess of their impudence and ferocity.
Others, more faithful to their principles, were butchered by
scores without a trial, drowned, shot, hung on lamp-posts.
Thousands fled from their country to take sanctuary under the
shade of hostile altars. The churches were closed; the bells were
silent; the shrines were plundered; the silver crucifixes were
melted down. Buffoons, dressed in copes and surplices, came
dancing the carmagnole even to the bar of the Convention. The
bust of Marat was substituted for the statues of the martyrs of
Christianity. A prostitute, seated on a chair of state in the
chancel of Notre Dame, received the adoration of thousands, who