“‘Then the birds moved their wings secure in the air, and the hare, without fear, wandered in the open fields. Then the fish did not fall a victim to the hook and its own credulity. Every place was void of treachery; there was no dread of injury--all things were full of peace. In later ages some one--a mischievous innovator (_non utilis auctor_), whoever he was--set at naught and scorned this pure and simple food, and engulfed in his greedy paunch victuals made from a carcase. It was he that opened the road to wickedness. I can believe that the steel, since stained with blood, was first dipped in the gore of savage wild beasts; and that was lawful enough. We hold that the bodies of animals that seek our destruction are put to death without any breach of the sacred laws of morality. But although they might be put to death they were not to be eaten as well. From this time the abomination advanced rapidly. The swine is believed to have been the first victim destined to slaughter, because it grubbed up the seeds with its broad snout, and so cut short the hopes of the year. For gnawing and injuring the vine the goat was led to slaughter at the altars of the avenging Bacchus. Its own fault was the ruin of each of these victims. “‘But how have you deserved to die, ye sheep, you harmless breed that have come into existence for the service of men--who carry nectar in your full udders--who give your wool as soft coverings for us--who assist us more by your life than by your death? Why have the oxen deserved this--beings without guile and without deceit--innocent, mild, born for the endurance of labour? Ungrateful, indeed, is man, and unworthy of the bounteous gifts of the harvest who, after unyoking him from the plough, can slaughter the tiller of his fields--who can strike with the axe that neck worn bare with labour, through which he had so often turned up the hard ground, and which had afforded so many a harvest. “‘And it is not enough that such wickedness is committed by men. They have involved the gods themselves in this abomination, and they believe that a Deity in the heavens can rejoice in the slaughter of the laborious and useful ox. The spotless victim, excelling in the beauty of its form (for its very beauty is the cause of its destruction), decked out with garlands and with gold is placed before their altars, and, ignorant of the purport of the proceedings, it hears the prayers of the priest. It sees the fruits which it cultivated placed on its head between its horns, and, struck down, with its life-blood it dyes the sacrificial knife which it had perhaps already seen in the clear water. Immediately they inspect the nerves and fibres torn from the yet living being, and scrutinise the will of the gods in them.