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,[18] 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 dogmatize everywhere.  “Joking is as much out of fashion as jumping jacks and tumblers.  Our good folks have no time to laugh!  There is God and the king to be hauled down first; and men and women, one and all, are devoutly employed in the demolition.  They think me quite profane for having any belief left. . . .  Do you know who the philosophers are, or what the term means here?  In the first place it comprehends almost everybody; and in the next, means men, who, avowing war against popery, take aim, many of them, at a subversion of all religion. . . .  These savants, — I beg their pardons, these philosophers — are insupportable, superficial, overbearing and fanatic:  they preach incessantly, and their avowed doctrine is atheism; you would not believe how openly.  Voltaire himself does not satisfy them.  One of their lady devotees said of him, ’He is a bigot, a deist!’ "

This is very strong, and yet we have not come to the end of it; for, thus far, impiety is less a conviction than the fashion.  Walpole, a careful observer, is not deluded by it.  “By what I have said of their religious or rather irreligious opinions, you must not conclude their people of quality atheists — at least not the men.  Happily for them, poor souls! they are not capable of going so far into thinking.  They assent to a great deal because it is the fashion, and because they don’t know how to contradict.”  Now that “dandies are outmoded” and everybody is “a philosopher,” “they are philosophers.”  It is essential to be like all the rest of the world.  But that which they best appreciate in the new materialism is the pungency of paradox and the freedom given to pleasure.  They are like the boys of good families, fond of playing tricks on their ecclesiastical preceptor.  They take out of learned theories just what is wanted to make a dunce-cap, and derive the more amusement from the fun if it is seasoned with impiety.  A seignior of the court having seen Doyen’s picture of “St. Genevieve and the plague-stricken,” sends to a painter the following day to come to him at his mistress’s domicile:  “I would