furnish us with not only the best, but the only
means of scientifically treating the evil.

And it may be further observed, that the
fewer the points of similarity which exist
between any two social systems and historical
epochs, the more easy will it be to discover the
law which rules any phenomena that may be
common to both of them. For as this law must
of course be sought for by examining the
circumstances in which they are like each other,
the smaller this area, the less difficult the search.
The true causes of an entirely unknown epidemic,
which should be found equally prevalent among
the inhabitants of these islands and the
Esquimaux, would be more readily discoverable by
science than those of a malady which confined
its attacks to the different nations of civilised
Europe.

It was at the beginning of the second quarter
of the eighteenth century that a religious
movement took place at Paris, the phenomena and
scope of which were so singularly similar to
those of the exhibitions which have recently
been taking place among ourselves, that, though
the modern term "Revival " had not then been
invented, they are at once recognised as belonging
to the same category, and as depending for
their outward manifestations on the same
principle of physical law. That such manifestations
are very far from rare or new, we all know.
But, for the reasons given above, it will not be
without interest at the present moment to
observe the curious identity of the phenomena,
while adverting to the very marked difference in
most of the features of the social systems amid
which they arose.

The age of Louis the Fifteenth in France is
understood by the merest tyro in history to have
marked the lowest degree of corruption and
depravity to which it was possible for a social
system to sink, and yet to continue to exist—to
continue for a short time—for it could not
continue to hold together long, as we know. And
in this case, at least, every more careful
investigation of the time but confirms the popular
notion. We are generally wont also to speak of
the eighteenth century as of a period of very
generally diffused and avowed infidelity,
especially in France. But this ought to be
understood to apply chiefly to a later part of the
century than that with which we are now
concerned. When Louis the Fifteenth was declared,
at sixteen years old, to be capable of reigning
in the year 1726, all the world was still orthodox
and prized its orthodoxy so highly, that the
quarrel between the two religious parties, into
which society was divided, as to which was the
more orthodox, occupies a foremost place in the
history of the time, and filled a very large space
in the thoughts and lives of the Frenchmen and
women of that day.

The two parties were the Jesuits, or Mo
linists, as the party was more especially called
at that time, from one of the principal
expounders of their scheme of doctrine, and the
Jansenisls. It is, happily, by no means needful
to the tolerably clear understanding of the social
position occupied by these parties respectively,
to enter on any attempt at an exact
account of the theological points and doctrinal
niceties which divided these sects of the
"indivisible and infallible" Roman Catholic Church.
We know but too well how great the difference
may be "'twixt tweedledum and tweedledee."
And it will be quite sufficient for our present
purpose to understand that the first of the
above-named sections of the Church, the
Moinists, were in doctrine and tendencies
anaogous to our High-Church party, and the
Jansenists to the Low-Church men. The
first assigned a larger place in its scheme to
the indispensability of priestly ministrations,
and, consequently, to the dignity, authority,
power and ascendancy of the priesthood; and
more especially of Rome, as the head and
fountain of priestly power. The latter went to
lengths, which the shrewder worldly wisdom of
most of the higher ranks of the hierarchy clearly
perceived to be dangerous, in making spiritual
commuuication between man and his Maker a
matter of individual competence and consciousness.

Of course the former scheme of doctrine was
that most favoured by the ruling powers both in
Church and State. Religion, to be useful for
State purposes, must be an outward and visible
thing. Despotic monarchs, however, are apt to
find one drawback to the advantages of High-
Church Romanism. Although it loves lay
despotism much, it loves ecclesiastical despotism
more; and, when it is too luxuriantly vigorous,
is wont to filch for the profit of its own special
master at Rome a larger portion of the lay
despot's power, than the latter is, when strong
and fearless, willing to tolerate.

Louis the Fourteenth accordingly very
strenuously held his own in these matters; and the
"liberties of the Gallican Church" were safe in
the keeping of a monarch, jealous, energetic, and
powerful enough to insist, despite his profound
and pious orthodoxy, on being the pope of his
own kingdom. But under worthless, indolent,
indifferent, superstitious Louis the Fifleenth,
things were changed. Ultramontanism became
rampant. And the celebrated bull, called, from
the first word of it, "Unigenitus," which
supported Molinism in all its pretensions against
Jansenism, was accepted by the court, its
creatures, and the great body of the episcopacy,
despite the vigorous resistance of the Jansenists
and of the parliament, to which its
ultramontanism made it extremely obnoxious. The
parliament, however, weaker than the weak court,
was compelled to yield, despite protests and
remonstrances. France was divided into
"constitutionnaires," or those who were in favour of
the bull, and "appelants," or those who
declared that, it was contrary to their conscience
to receive it. Much persecution resulted from
this state of things. Priests were turned out
of their benefices, and many, both priests and
laymen, were imprisoned or exiled. Many fled
to Utrecht, which became, as the French
historian Henri Martin expresses it, a Jansenist