of those who boasted themselves the most religious nation, and, naturally, the most superstitious of all Greece.  How can we suppose those to be atheists who passed sentence upon Diagoras, Socrates, and Alcibiades for impiety!  These are glaring inconsistencies.  To say, like M. Boivin, for sake of getting clear of the difficulty, that Alcibiades, Socrates, and Diagoras attacked religion seriously, and were, therefore, not allowed, but that Aristophanes did it in jest, or was authorized by custom, would be to trifle with the difficulty, and not to clear it.  Though the Athenians loved merriment, it is not likely that, if Aristophanes had professed atheism, they would have spared him more than Socrates, who had as much life and pleasantry in his discourses, as the poet in his comedies.  The pungent raillery of Aristophanes, and the fondness of the Athenians for it, are, therefore, not the true reason why the poet was spared, when Socrates was condemned.  I shall now solve the question with great brevity.

The true answer to this question is given by Plutarch in his treatise of reading of the poets.  Plutarch attempts to prove, that youth is not to be prohibited the reading of the poets, but to be cautioned against such parts as may have bad effects.  They are first to be prepossessed with this leading principle, that poetry is false and fabulous.  He then enumerates, at length, the fables which Homer and other poets have invented about their deities, and concludes thus:  “When, therefore, there is found in poetical compositions any thing strange and shocking, with respect to gods or demi-gods, or concerning the virtue of any excellent and renowned characters, he that should receive these fictions as truth, would be corrupted by an erroneous opinion; but he that always keeps in his mind the fables and allusions, which it is the business of poetry to contrive, will not be injured by these stories, nor receive any ill impressions upon his thoughts, but will be ready to censure himself, if, at any time, he happens to be afraid, lest Neptune, in his rage, should split the earth, and lay open the infernal regions.”  Some pages afterwards, he tells us, “that religion is a thing difficult of comprehension, and above the understanding of poets; which it is,” says he, “necessary to have in mind when we read their fables.”

The pagans, therefore, had their fables, which they distinguished from their religion; for no one can be persuaded that Ovid intended his Metamorphoses, as a true representation of the religion of the Romans.  The poets were allowed their imaginations about their gods, as things which have no regard to the publick worship.  Upon this principle, I say, as I said before, there was, amongst the pagans, two sorts of religion; one a poetical, and the other a real religion; one practical, the other theatrical; a mythology for the poets, a theology for use.  They had fables, and a worship, which, though founded upon fable, was yet very different.