An analysis of religious belief

by viscount John Russell Amberley

In China, the animals slain are "bullocks, heifers, sheep, and pigs," which are duly purified for a certain period beforehand (C. O., vol. ii. p. 192). Among the Jews, pigs, whose flesh was regarded as impure, were not offered; bullocks, goats, and sheep were the chief sacrificial animals; and extreme care was taken in their law that they should be entirely without blemish; that is, that, like the ox of the Kafirs, they should be the best obtainable (Lev. xxii. 17-25). This is a remarkable illustration of the tendency to offer only articles of value in human estimation to God; for here that which would be good enough for men is treated as unfit for Jehovah. Animals of lesser magnitude are sometimes offered; as, for instance, the quails which the Mexicans used to sacrifice (H. I., b. v. ch. 18). Birds are not unfrequently chosen as fitting objects to present to the gods. Among the Ibos, a negro tribe, it is the custom for women, six weeks after childbirth, to present a pair of hens as an offering, which, however, are not killed, but liberated after certain ceremonies. In like manner the Hebrew woman after her delivery was enjoined to bring a lamb and a pigeon or turtle-dove; or, if she were unable to bring the lamb, two young pigeons or two turtle-doves (Lev. xii. 6-8). In addition to animals, a considerable variety of objects is sacrificed, generally the fruits of the earth or flowers. There is, however, no limit to the number of things which may be held suitable for presentation to the gods. Thus, in Samoa (in Polynesia), the offerings were "principally cooked food" (N. Y. p. 241). In other Islands "the first fruits are presented to the gods" (Ibid., p. 327), a practice which corresponds, as the missionary who records it justly remarks, to that of the ancient Israelites. The Red Indians used to offer to their spirits "petun, tobacco, or birds." In honor of the Sun, and even of subordinate spirits, they would throw into the fire everything they were in the habit of using, and which they acknowledged as received from them (N. F., vol. iii. pp. 347, 348). Acosta divides the sacrifices of the Mexicans and Peruvians into three classes: the first, of inanimate objects; the second, of animals; the third, of men. In the first class are included cocoa, maize, colored feathers, seashells, gold and silver, and fine linen (H. I., b. v. ch. 18). Among the sacrifices offered by the Incas to the sun, the most esteemed, according to Garcilasso de la Vega, were lambs, then sheep, then barren ewes. Besides these, they sacrificed tame rabbits, all edible birds (remark the limitation), and fat of beasts, as well as all the grains and vegetables up to cocoa, and the finest linen (observe again the care that it should be fine) (C. R., b. ii. ch. 8). At a certain Hindu festival described by Wilson, a goddess named Varadá Chaturthi "is worshipped with offerings of flowers, of incense, or of lights, with platters of sugar and ginger, or milk or salt, with scarlet or saffron-tinted strings and golden bracelets" (W. W., vol. ii. pp. 184, 185). Among the Parsees the sacrifices consist of little loaves of bread, and of Haoma, the sacred plant. The Indian Parsees send from time to time to Kirman to obtain Haoma-branches from this holy territory (Z. A., vol. ii. p. 535). The Parsees also offer flowers, fruits, rice, odoriferous grains, perfumes, milk, roots of certain trees, and meat. The Jews, like them, offered the productions of the soil in sacrifice.

Beauty, and even utility, when not accompanied by considerable value in exchange, do not suffice to constitute fitness for religious sacrifice. Common plants and shrubs, branches of trees, wild birds or insects, are some of them among the most beautiful productions of nature; yet they are not sacrificed. Stones and wood are both useful, but they are obtained, as a rule, at little cost; and they are not sacrificed. Flowers, which certainly have no high value, were sometimes offered to idols in the form of wreaths and garlands: they scarcely constitute an exception to the rule, for they are prized as ornaments by men, and the process of plucking and weaving them into appropriate shapes imposes trouble—the equivalent of cost—on the devotee. It is plainly not owing to any accidental circumstance that highly valuable objects have been selected by all the nations of the earth as alone appropriate for religious sacrifice. Two reasons may be assigned for this selection. In the first place, the general assimilation of deities to mankind goes far to account for it. Everywhere, and at all times—as we shall have occasion frequently to observe in this work—men have reasoned as to the divine nature from their knowledge of their own. A noteworthy instance of this is to be seen in Malachi, who does not scruple to tell the Jews that their God feels the same kind of offense at the poverty of their offerings as a human governor would do. "And if," says that prophet, "ye offer the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? and if ye offer the lame and sick, is it not evil? offer it now unto thy governor; will he be pleased with thee, or accept thy person? saith the Lord of hosts." A few verses later he recurs to the sorrow felt by Jehovah at such insults. "And ye bring that which is robbed, and the lame, and the sick; thus ye bring an offering: should I accept this of your hand? saith the Lord. But cursed be the deceiver, which hath in his flock a male, and voweth and sacrificeth unto the Lord a bad female." It would be difficult to find the theory of God's resemblance to man expressed in a cruder form. Even as a governor will show the greatest favor to those who approach him with the costliest gifts, so the mouthpiece of the Hebrew deity declares in his name that he must have the pick of his servant's flocks—the males, not the females, the sound and the perfect, not the sickly or the maimed. In a precisely similar spirit, it is enjoined in one of the sacred books of the Buddhists that no spoilt victuals or drinks may be used in sacrifice (Wassiljew, p. 211).

Men's notion of their god was often derived, like Malachi's, not only from human nature, but from those who were by no means the best specimens of human nature,—the rulers. The religious emotion, imbued with this conception of its deities, shrank through a sense of piety from the irreverent, and, as it seemed, sacrilegious act of presenting them with anything but the best. But there was another reason which, doubtless, had its weight. Not only must the offering be of a kind acceptable to the god to whom it was given; it must also impose some cost upon the worshiper. Religious sentiment imperatively required that there should be an actual sacrifice of something which the owner valued, and the surrender of which imposed a burden upon him. This seemed to be involved in the very notion of sacrifice. Its sense and purpose was, that the devotee, coming to his god, and desiring to obtain some favor from him, should show the high importance he attached to it by parting with some portion of his possessions. And plainly this portion must be such as to indicate by its character the esteem and reverence felt by the worshiper for the being whom he worshiped. To indicate this, it must be something which he would unwillingly resign but for his religious feelings. Hence a special part of the fruits of the soil would be an appropriate offering. It would involve a real diminution in the wealth of the worshiper, a real surrender of something useful and valuable to mankind. To these two reasons may be added a third, which, no doubt, must have had its weight. In many cases, a portion of the sacrifices was the property of the priests. As will be more fully shown hereafter, the priesthood frequently contrived to transfer to themselves the piety which was felt towards the gods. Hence the sacrifices, originally given to the divine beings, were in part appropriated by their ministers; and it was obviously of importance to them that the thing sacrificed should be such as they could profit by and enjoy.

It sometimes happens that the sacrifice, or a portion of it, is consumed either by the worshipers in general, or by their priests. A case of the former kind is mentioned by Oldendorp. When the young men among the Tembus (negroes) are going to battle, the old men offer sheep and hens to their god Zioo for their success; the blood and bowels they bestow upon Zioo, and the flesh they eat themselves (G. d. M., p. 330). Sometimes the thing sacrificed is itself regarded as an idol or god, and is eaten religiously, under a belief that it is a food of peculiar efficacy. Such is the case with the Christian sacrament; and such was the case, too, with the remarkable custom observed among the Mexicans at the feast of Vitziliputzli, where an idol composed of corn and honey used to be solemnly consecrated, and afterwards distributed to be eaten by the people, who received it with extreme reverence, awe, and tears, as the flesh and bones of the god himself (H. I., b. v. ch. 24). It is an exception, however, when the laity partake in the consumption of the sacrifices; they are generally reserved for the priests. Among the Jews, it was the privilege of the priests to eat certain portions of the animals brought for sacrifice; and in like manner the Parsee priest, or Zaota, eats the bread and drinks the Haoma (Av., vol. ii. p. lxxii). And it deserves especial mention, that the Haoma, a plant of which the juice is thus drunk in certain rites both in the Indian and the Parsee religions, is in both considered a god as well as a plant; just as the wine of the Christian sacrament is both the juice of the grape and the blood of the Redeemer (Av., vol. i. p. 8).

In the above cases, food consecrated to the gods is eaten by men. The converse practice, that of bestowing a portion of the ordinary food of men upon the gods, is also common. The habit of the ancients of making libations is well known. But the same practice has prevailed, or prevails still, in many distinct parts of the world. A traveler who visited Tartary in the thirteenth century states that it was the custom of the Tartar chiefs of one thousand or one hundred men, before they ate or drank anything, to offer some of it to an idol which they always kept in the middle of their dwelling place (Bergeron, Voyage de Carpin, art. iii., p. 30). In Samoa, when a family feast was held in honor of the household gods, "a cup of their intoxicating ava draught was poured out as a drink-offering" (N. Y., p. 239). Among the Soosoos, on the west coast of Africa, a custom prevails "which resembles the ancient practice of pouring out a libation: they seldom or never drink spirits, wine, etc., without spilling a little of it upon the ground, and wetting the gree-gree or fetish hung round the neck: at the same time they mutter a kind of short prayer" (N. A., p. 123). Again, in Sierra Leone, "when they want to render their devil propitious to any undertaking, they generally provide liquor: a very small libation is made to him, and the rest they drink before his altar" (S. L., p. 66). While in Thibet, "the execution by a Lama is not required for the usual libations to the personal genii, nor to those of the house, the country, etc., in whose honor it is the custom to pour out upon the ground some drink or food, and to fill one of the offering vessels ranged before their images before eating or drinking one's self" (B. T., p. 247).

Great importance is in all religions attached to sacrifice. It is universally supposed to conciliate, to soften, or to appease the deity in whose honor it is offered. Sometimes it is even conceived to have an actual material power of its own, the spirits deriving a positive benefit from the food presented to them. Spiegel states that the subordinate genii in the Parsee hierarchy of angels derive from the sacrifices strength and vigor to fulfil their duties (Av., vol. ii. p. lxiii). Generally, however, the conception of the influence of sacrifice is less materialistic. The Amazulus naively express the general sentiment by saying, that, in prospect of a battle, they sacrifice to their ancestors in order that they "may have no cause of complaint." Much more mystical were the views entertained on this point by the ancient Hindus, among whom the theory of sacrifice was probably more highly elaborated than in any other nation. Of a certain sacrificial ceremony it is stated, that the gods, after having performed it, "gained the celestial world. Likewise a sacrificer, after having done the same, gains the celestial world" (A. B., vol. ii. p. 22). And it is added, that the sacrificer who performs this rite "succeeds in both worlds, and obtains a firm footing in both worlds" (A. B., vol. ii. p. 25). While to another rite the following promise is attached: "He who, knowing this, sacrifices according to this rite, is born (anew) from the womb of Agni and the offerings, and participates in the nature of the Rik, Yajus, and Sâman, the Veda (sacred knowledge), the Brahma (sacred element), and immortality, and is absorbed in the deity" (A. B., vol. ii. p. 51). Often it is the forgiveness of some offense that is sought to be obtained by pacifying the indignant deity with a gift. In the Jewish law a large portion of the sacrifices enjoined have this object. They are termed sin-offerings or trespass-offerings.

The general idea which leads to sacrifice is in all religions the same. Respect is intended to be shown to the deity in whose honor the sacrifice is made by depriving ourselves of some valuable possession, and bestowing it on him. The pleasure supposed to be felt by God on receiving such presents is somewhat coarsely but emphatically expressed in the Hebrew Bible by the statement that when Aaron had made a sacrifice in the wilderness there came a fire from the Lord and consumed the meat which had been laid upon the altar (Lev. ix. 24).

Christianity offers only an apparent exception to the rule of the universal predominance of this idea. We do not, indeed, find among Christians the periodical and stated offerings, either of animals or of the products of the soil, which exist elsewhere. Nevertheless, the idea of sacrifice subsists among them in all its force. Indeed, it is the fundamental conception of the Christian religion itself, in which the sacrifice of the founder upon the cross embodies all those notions which are held to legitimate the custom of sacrificing among heathen nations. We have first the notion of an angry and exacting deity, who can only be rendered placable towards mankind by the surrender to him of some valuable thing; we have, consequently, the sacrifice of the most valuable thing that can possibly be offered, namely, the life of a human being; we have, lastly, the belief that this sacrifice was accepted, and that promises of mercy were in consequence held out to the human race. By a peculiar exaltation of the idea, the life thus given up is declared to be that of his own son—a conception by which the value of the sacrifice, and consequently the advantages it is capable of procuring, are indefinitely heightened.

Thus the idea of sacrifice is carried to its extreme limits in the religion of Christendom. Had it not been for the absolute necessity of some sacrifice being offered to God, there would—according to the theory of the Christian faith—have been absolutely no reason for the execution of Christ. He might have taught every doctrine associated with his name, performed every miracle related in the Gospels, have drawn to himself every disciple named in them, and yet have died, like the Buddha, in the calm of a venerated and untroubled old age. He was obliged to undergo this painful and melancholy death, if we accept the general belief of Christendom, solely because God required a sacrifice, and because without that sacrifice he could not forgive the offenses of mankind.

Simple prayer and sacrifice are, then, the most primitive and most general methods by which man approaches those whom his nature impels him to worship. But as these acts are repeated from time to time, and as their frequent repetition is supposed to be highly agreeable to their objects, it naturally happens that some particular mode of performing them comes to be preferred to others. By and by, the mode of worship usually adopted will become habitual; and a habit once formed will be strengthened by every repetition of the acts in question. Not only will certain forms of prayer, certain ways of sacrificing, certain postures, certain gestures, and a certain order of proceeding become established as usual and regular, but they will be regarded as the only appropriate and respectful forms, every attempt to depart from them being treated as a sacrilegious innovation. The form will be deemed no less essential than the substance.