We have given, however, no notion at all of the chief object of this class of writings, the liturgical details of the sacrifices themselves.

Even a resume of one comparatively short ceremony would be so long and tedious that the explication of the intricate formalities would scarcely be a sufficient reward.

With Hillebrandt's patient analysis of the New-and Full-Moon sacrifice,[67] of which a sketch is given by von Schroeder in his _Literatur und Cultur_, the curious reader will be able to satisfy himself that a minute description of these ceremonies would do little to further his knowledge of the religion, when once he grasps the fact that the sacrifice is but show.
Symbolism without folk-lore, only with the imbecile imaginings of a daft mysticism, is the soul of it; and its outer form is a certain number of formulae, mechanical movements, oblations, and slaughterings.
But we ought not to close the account of the era without giving counter-illustrations of the legendary aspect of this religion; for which purpose we select two of the best-known tales, one from the end of the Br[=a]hmana that is called the [=A]itareya; the other from the beginning of the Catapatha; the former in abstract, the latter in full.
THE SACRIFICE OF DOGSTAIL (_[=A]it.

Br._ vii.

13).
Hariccandra, a king born in the great race of Ikshv[=a]ku, had no son.
A sage told him what blessings are his who has a son: 'He that has no son has no place in the world; in the person of a son a man is reborn, a second self is begotten.' Then the king desired a son, and the sage instructed him to pray to Varuna for one, and to offer to sacrifice him to the god.