faith the same speaker subsequently represents himself as neither altogether a believer nor a disbeliever, and he proceeds to search, in Plutarch's own special way, for "faint and dim emanations of truth dispersed about among the mythologies of the Egyptians."[1] Plutarch's lofty idea of the passion of Love may have induced him in this, as his strenuous moral aim did in so many other instances, to emphasize for the moment any particular aspect of the ancient faith which appeared likely to furnish inspiration to the realization of noble ethical ideals. He is anxious, at all events, that his purely rational arguments shall not carry him too far, as, on one occasion, after a long disquisition, the undoubted purport of which is to refer oracular inspiration to subterraneous fumes and exhalations, or, as one of the speakers says, "to accident and natural means," Plutarch ("Lamprias" here is clearly a thin disguise of Plutarch himself) is disturbed and confused that he should be thought desirous of refuting any "true and religious" opinions recognized with respect to the Deity; and he forthwith proceeds to prove that it is quite possible to investigate natural phenomena for secondary causes, while recognizing a final cause in the creative Deity.[2] Not only does Plutarch sympathize with those who accept with pious simplicity the tenets of the "ancient and hereditary Faith;" not only does he deprecate too severe a handling of religious questions; but he is also eager to support his view of a subject by showing that it is not out of harmony with the
