aganism is
not a simple fact: it offers to view in the same bed two currents, the
one pure and the other impure. What is the relation between these two
currents? A passage in a writer of the Latin Church throws a vivid light
upon their actual relation in practical life. It is thus that Lactantius
expresses himself: "When man (the pagan) finds himself in adversity,
then it is that he has recourse to God (to the only God). If the horrors
of war threaten him, if there appear a contagious disease, a drought, a
tempest, then he has recourse to God.... If he is overtaken by a storm
at sea, and is in danger of perishing, immediately he calls upon God; if
he finds himself in any urgent peril, he has recourse to God.... Thus
men bethink themselves of God when they are in trouble; but as soon as
the danger is past, and they are no longer in any fear, we see them
return with joy to the temples of the false gods, make to them
libations, and offer sacrifices to them."[9] This is a striking picture
of the workings of man's heart in all ages; for, as our author observes,
"God is never so much forgotten of men as when they are quietly enjoying
the favors and blessings which He sends them."[10] As regards our
special object, this page reveals in a very instructive manner the
religious condition of heathen antiquity. The thought of the sovereign
God was stifled without being extinguished; it awoke beneath the
pressure of anguish; but ordinary life, the life of every day, belonged
to the easy worship of idols.

It may now be asked what is the historical relation between the two
currents of paganism of which we have just established the actual
relation in practical life. Did humanity begin with a coarse fetichism,
and thence rise by slow degrees to higher conceptions? Do the traces of
a comparatively pure monotheism first show themselves in the most recent
periods of idolatry? Contemporary science inclines more and more to
answer in the negative. It is in the most ancient historical ground
(allow me these geological terms) that the laborious investigators of
the past meet with the most elevated ideas of religion. Cut to the
ground a young and vigorous beech-tree, and come back a few years
afterwards: in place of the tree cut down you will find coppice-wood;
the sap which nourished a single trunk has been divided amongst a
multitude of shoots. This comparison expresses well enough the opinion
which tends to prevail amongst our savants on th