pleasant and may be beautiful. The child who saw God in the swelling and rounded clouds of a June day, and left on a rock the ribbon-grass and garden roses as mute symbols of gratitude to the Great Spirit who poured out the voluptuous weather; the ancient pagan who bowed prone to the dust, in homage, as the sun looked out from the windows of morning, or offered the smoke of incense at nightfall in gratitude for the day, or kissed his hand to the Moon, thankful for that spectacle of loveliness passing above him; the man who, with reverent thankfulness or penitence, offers a sacrifice of joy or grief, to express what words too poorly tell;—he is no idolater, but Nature's simple child. We rejoice in self-denial for a father, a son, a friend. Love and every strong emotion has its sacrifice. It is rooted deep in the heart of men. God needs nothing. He cannot receive; yet Man needs to give. But if these things are done as substitutes for holiness, as causes and not mere signs of reconciliation with God, as means to coax and wheedle the Deity and bribe the All-powerful, it is Superstition, rank and odious. Examples enough of this are found in all ages. To take two of the most celebrated cases, one from the Hebrews, the other from a Heathen people: Abraham would sacrifice his son to Jehovah, who demanded that offering,[1] Agamemnon his daughter to
- ↑
Gen. xxii. 1-14. The conjectures of the learned about this mythical
legend, which may have some fact at its foundation, are numerous, and some of
them remarkable for their ingenuity. Some one supposes that Abraham was
tempted by the Elohim, but Jehovah prevented the sacrifice. It is easy to find
Heathen parallels. See the story of Cronus in Eusebius, P. E. I. 10; of
Aristodemus, of whom Pausanias tells a curious story, IV. 9. See the case of
Helena and Valeria Luperca, who were both miraculously saved from sacrifice,
in Plutarch, Paralel. Opp. Vol. II. p. 314. The Bulgarian legend of poor Lasar
is quite remarkable, and strikingly analogous to that of Abram and Isaac. A
stranger comes to Lasar's house, L. has nothing for his guest's supper, and
therefore, at his suggestion, kills Jenko, his son; the guest eats; but at
midnight cries aloud that he is—the Lord! Jenko is restored to life. See the story
in a notice of Paton's Servia, in For. Quart. Review for Oct. 1845, Am. ed. p.
130.
Polybius says we must allow writers to enlarge in stories of miracles, and in fables of that sort, when they desire to promote piety among the people. But, he adds, an excess in this line is not to be tolerated. Opp. Lib. XVI. ch. 11, ed. Schweighäuser, Oxon. 1823, III. p. 289. Elsewhere he says, this would not be necessary in a state composed of wise men, but the people require to be managed with obscure fears and tragical stories. Ibid. Lib. VI. ch. 56, Vol. II. p. 389. Strabo is of the same opinion, and thinks that women and the people cannot be led to piety by philosophical discourses, only by Fables and Myths. Geog. Lib. I. ch. 2, ed. Siebenkees, p. 51-2. Dionysius. Hal. speaks more
