ction of religion, their
error was one of a class of errors into which the human mind is at no
time exempt from falling. And they had this further excuse, that the
destruction of mythology did logically and necessarily imply the
destruction of polytheism. Polytheism and mythology were complementary
parts of their idea of the Godhead. Demonstrations therefore of the
inconsistency and immorality involved in their idea were purely
negative and destructive; and they were, accordingly, unavailing until
a higher idea of the unity of the Godhead was forthcoming.

Until that time, polytheism and mythology struggled on. They were
burdened, and, as time went on, they were overburdened, with the
weight of the repulsive myths which could not be denied and disowned,
but could only be thrust out of sight as far, and as long, as
possible. These myths, however offensive they became in the long run
to the conscience of the community, were, in their origin, narratives
which were not offensive to the common consciousness, for the simple
reason that they were the work of the common consciousness, approved
by it and transmitted for ages under the seal of its approval. If they
were not offensive to the common consciousness at the time when they
originated, and only became so later, the reason is that the morality
of the community was less developed at the time of their origin than
it came to be subsequently. If they became offensive, it was because
the morality of the community tended to advance, while they remained
what they had always been.

It may, perhaps, be asked, why the morality of the community should
tend to change, and the myths of the community should not? The reason
seems to be that myths are learned by the child in the nursery, and
morality is learned by the man in the world. The family is a smaller
community than the village community, the city, or the state; and the
smaller the community, the more tenacious it is of its customs and
traditions. The toys of Athenian children, which have been discovered,
are, all, the toys which children continue to use to this day. In the
Iliad children built sand-castles on the sea-shore as they do now; and
the little child tugged at its mother's dress then as now. Children
then as now would insist that the tales told to them should always be
told exactly as they were first told. Of the discrepancy between the
morality exhibited by the heroes of nursery-tales and that practised
by the grown-