he spirit of barter, to see if the envious power could not be
mollified by something less than the total ruin of his victims, could
easily become a genial distribution of what custom assigned to each: so
much to the chief, so much to the god, so much to the husbandman. There
is a certain openness, and as it were the form of justice, in giving
each what is conventionally his due, however little he may really
deserve it. In religious observances this sentiment plays an important
part, and men find satisfaction in fulfilling in a seemly manner what is
prescribed; and since they know little about the ground or meaning of
what they do, they feel content and safe if at least they have done it
properly. Sacrifices are often performed in this spirit; and when a
beautiful order and religious calm have come to dignify the performance,
the mind, having meantime very little to occupy it, may embroider on the
given theme. It is then that fable, and new religious sentiments
suggested by fable, appear prominently on the scene.

[Sidenote: Thank-offerings.]

In agricultural rites, for instance, sacrifice will naturally be offered
to the deity presiding over germination; that is the deity that might,
perhaps, withdraw his favour with disastrous results. He commonly
proves, however, a kindly and responsive being, and in offering to him a
few sheaves of corn, some barley-cakes, or a libation from the vintage,
the public is grateful rather than calculating; the sacrifice has become
an act of thanksgiving. So in Christian devotion (which often follows
primitive impulses and repeats the dialectic of paganism in a more
speculative region) the redemption did not remain merely expiatory. It
was not merely a debt to be paid off and a certain quantum of suffering
to be endured which had induced the Son of God to become man and to take
up his cross. It was, so the subtler theologians declared, an act of
affection as much as of pity; and the spell of the doctrine over the
human heart lay in feeling that God wished to assimilate himself to man,
rather than simply from above to declare him forgiven; so that the
incarnation was in effect a rehabilitation of man, a redemption in
itself, and a forgiveness. Men like to think that God has sat at their
table and walked among them in disguise. The idea is flattering; it
suggests that the courtesy may some day be returned, and for those who
can look so deep it expresses pointedly the philosophic truth of the