"Hector," says Zeus to Hera, "was dearest to the gods of all mortals
that are in Ilios. So was he to me at least, for nowise failed he in the
gifts I loved. Never did my altar lack seemly feast, drink-offering and
the steam of sacrifice, even the honour that falleth to our due."
[Footnote: Iliad xxiv. 66.--Translated by Lang, Leaf and Myers.] And he
concludes that he must intervene to secure the restoration of the body
of Hector to his father.

The performance of sacrifice, then, ensures favour; and on the other
hand its neglect entails punishment. When Apollo sends a plague upon the
Greek fleet the most natural hypothesis to account for his conduct is
that he has been stinted of his due meed of offerings; "perhaps," says
Agamemnon, "the savour of lambs and unblemished goats may appease him."
Or again, when the Greeks omit to sacrifice before building the wall
around their fleet, they are punished by the capture of their position
by the Trojans. The whole relation between man and the gods is of the
nature of a contract. "If you do your part, I'll do mine; if not, not!"
that is the tone of the language on either side. The conception is
legal, not moral nor spiritual; it has nothing to do with what we call
sin and conscience.

At a later period, it is true, we find a point of view prevailing which
appears at first sight to come closer to that of the Christian. Certain
acts we find, such as murder, for example, were supposed to infect as
with a stain not only the original offender but his descendants from
generation to generation. Yet even so, the stain, it appears, was
conceived to be rather physical than moral, analogous to disease both in
its character and in the methods of its cure. Aeschylus tells us of the
earth breeding monsters as a result of the corruption infused by the
shedding of blood; and similarly a purely physical infection tainted the