The origin and development of the moral ideas

Whilst in some cases the object of a sacrifice is to transfer conditional curses either to the god to whom it is made, or to both the god and the worshipper, the victim or article offered may in other instances be used as a vehicle for transferring benign virtue to him who offered it or to other persons. As we have noticed above, a sacrifice is very frequently believed to be endowed with beneficial magic energy in consequence of its contact or communion with the supernatural being to which it is offered, and this energy is then supposed to have a salutary effect upon the person who comes in touch with it. I have said before that in Morocco magic virtue is ascribed to various parts of the sheep which is sacrificed at the “Great Feast,” and that every offering to a holy person, especially a dead saint, is considered to participate to some extent in his sanctity.123 The Vedic people regarded sacrificial food as a kind of medicine.124 The Siberian Kachinzes blessed their huts with sacrificial milk.125 The Lapps strewed the ashes of their burnt-offerings upon their heads.126 It is quite possible that in some instances a desire to receive the benefit of the supernatural energy with which the sacrifice is endowed is by itself a sufficient motive for offering it to a god.

As is the case with other rites, sacrifices also have a strong tendency to survive the ideas from which they sprang. Thus when the materialistic conception of the nature of gods faded away, offerings continued to be made to them, though their meaning was changed. As Sir E. B. Tylor observes, “the idea of practical acceptableness of the food or valuables presented to the deity, begins early to shade into the sentiment of divine gratification or propitiation by a reverent offering, though in itself of not much account to so mighty a divine personage,”127 Sacrifice then becomes mainly, or exclusively, a symbol of humility and reverence. Even in the Rig-Veda, in spite of its crude materialism, we meet with indications of the idea that the value of a sacrifice lies in the feelings of the worshipper; if unable to offer an ox or cow, the singer hopes that a small gift from the heart, a fagot, a libation, a bundle of grass, offered with reverence, will be more acceptable to the god than butter or honey.128 In Greece, though the sacrificial ritual remained unchanged till the end of paganism, we frequently come upon the advanced reflection that righteousness is the best sacrifice, that the poor man’s slight offering avails more with the deity than hecatombs of oxen.129 According to Porphyry, the gods have no need of banquets and magnificent sacrifices, but we should with the greatest alacrity make a moderate oblation to them of our own property, as “the honours which we pay to the gods should be accompanied by the same promptitude as that with which we give the first seat to worthy

I have here spoken of the practice of sacrifice and the ideas on which it is based. But sacrifice has also a moral value attached to it. Though no doubt in many cases optional, it is under various circumstances regarded as a stringent duty. This is particularly the case with the offerings regularly made by the community at large on special occasions fixed by custom.

As supernatural beings have material needs like men, they also possess property like men, and this must not be interfered with. The Fjort of West Africa believe that the spirits of the rivers kill those who drink their waters and sometimes punish those who fish in them for greediness, by making them deaf and dumb.132 When their chief god “played” by thundering, the Amazulu said to him who was frightened, “Why do you start, because the lord plays? What have you taken which belongs to him?”133 The Fijians speak of a deluge the cause of which was the killing of a favourite bird belonging to the god Ndengei by two mischievous lads, his grandsons.134 In Efate, of the New Hebrides, to steal cocoanuts which are consecrated to the worship of the gods at some forthcoming festival “would be regarded as a much greater offence than common stealing.”135 So, too, the pillaging of a temple has commonly been looked upon as the worst kind of robbery.136 Among the Hebrews any trespass upon ground which was hallowed by the localised presence of Yahveh was visited with extreme punishment.137 In Arabia people were forbidden to cut fodder, fell trees, or hunt game within the precincts of a sacred place.138 The Moors believe that a person would incur a very great risk indeed by cutting the branch of a tree or shooting a bird in the ḥorm of a síyid, or dead saint. The ḥorm is the homestead and domain of the saint, and he is the owner of everything within its borders.

But the offence is not exclusively one against property, and it may be doubted whether originally any clear idea of ownership at all was connected with it. In a holy place all objects are endowed with supernatural energy, and may therefore themselves, as it were, avenge injuries committed against them. This is true of the ḥorm of a saint, as well as of any other sanctuary, all his belongings being considered to partake of his sanctity. But, as a matter of fact, the so-called tomb of a saint is frequently a place which was at first regarded as holy by itself, on account of its natural appearance, and was only afterwards traditionally associated with a holy person, when the need was felt of giving an anthropomorphous interpretation of its holiness.139 According to early ideas a sacred object cannot with impunity be appropriated for ordinary purposes;140 but, on the other hand, visitors are allowed to take a handful of earth from the tomb of the saint or in certain cases to cut a small piece of wood from some tree growing in his ḥorm, to be used as a charm.141 It also deserves notice that the saint protects not only his own property, but any goods left in his care; hence the country Arabs of Morocco often have their granaries in the ḥórŭmat of saints.

Moreover, anybody who takes refuge at a síyid is for the moment safe. The right of sanctuary is regarded as very sacred in Morocco, especially in those parts of the country where the Sultan’s government has no power. To violate it is an outrage which the saint is sure to punish. I saw a madman whose insanity was attributed to the fact that he once had forcibly removed a fugitive from a saint’s tomb; and of a late Grand-Vizier it is said that he was killed by two powerful saints of Dukkâla, on whose refugees he had laid violent hands. Even the descendants of the saint or his manager (mḳáddem) can only by persuasion and by promising to mediate between the suppliant and his pursuer induce the former to leave the place.142 As is well known, this is not a custom restricted to Morocco. Among many peoples, at different stages of civilisation, sacred places give shelter to refugees.143