Abel’s sacrifice. Many readers will ask me with curiosity to tell them in this article what Abel’s sacrifice consisted in, why the supreme being acknowledged his offering, and not Cain’s, who nevertheless presented to him the first fruits of his labor and the fruit of his labor; how, in short, God made it known that Abel’s offering alone was pleasing to him. I shall reply my best to these three questions which divide the interpreters of Scripture, ancient and modern.

The author of Genesis 4:4 says, according to our translations, that Abel offered some of the firstborn of his livestock, and of their fat.  [1] It is on the basis of this passage that most commentators, according to the rabbis, believe that Abel offered to God the firstborn of his flock as a burnt offering, and they maintain that this order of sacrifice was the only one that was practiced before there was a law. But various scholars, among whom the illustrious Grotius, [2] are of a different opinion. They think that Abel offered only milk or cream from his livestock; they observe as evidence that only what was consumed by humans was offered to God; and since before the flood they did not consume meat, they also did not sacrifice any living creature.

Our versions say that Abel offered from among the firstborn of his fold, and of their fat . Grotius and M. Le Clerc [3] observe that by firstborn we must understand the best, and that the term בכור often means everything that excels in its genre. They remark further that the word khalab , which had been translated by the term fat , also means milk , or the fat of milk , in other words cream; that the seventy [4] had often translated it this way, and in particular Genesis 8:8, [5] where our versions read milk . The ancient Egyptians also offered milk to their gods. Diodorus of Sicily relates that it was the custom of the inhabitants of the Isle of Meroe to fill three hundred vessels with milk every day while invoking the names of the deities they worshipped.

As for the deficiency of Cain’s sacrifice, Philo has it consist in two things: first, that he did not offer it promptly enough, but μεθ ἡμέρας, after a few days;  [6] second, that he offered only the fruits of the earth, and not the firstborn of his flocks. The holy author of the epistle to the Hebrews (11:4) says much better that it was because of Abel’s faith that his sacrifice was preferred to Cain’s; [7] this faith, which is a state or a firm expectation, ὑπόστασις, of things for which one hopes, in other words the persuasion that God will reward good people in this life or in another.

According to most commentators, God brought down fire from heaven to show that Abel’s sacrifice was pleasing to him; but it is quite permissible to think otherwise. It is agreed that there are examples in sacred history of sacrifices consumed by a miraculous fire; but when that has happened, Scripture says so explicitly, whereas in the occasion we are discussing there is no mention of such fire, and we ought not to assume miracles when it is not necessary. Moreover, there is every reason to believe that the impious Cain would have worried little about whether his sacrifice was consumed by fire or not. It is therefore natural to look for some other sign of God’s approval that might have affected Cain, and which could have provoked his resentment against his brother. Here then is the ingenious thought of a professor from Leiden about this third question.

He agrees that Moses relates (immediately after saying that Cain and Abel offered sacrifices) that God had regard for Abel’s offering, and that he had no regard for Cain’s; but one must not conclude from this that signs of divine approval immediately followed the sacrifice. The manner in which this story is reported hints to us that Abel and Cain lived for several years, the one as a shepherd and the other as a farmer; and we can assume without doing the text violence that when they drew some profit from their labors they offered their fruits to God, and continued for several years. Abel, says the sacred historian, was a shepherd, but Cain was a farmer, and it happened after some time , etc. These words after some time , in Hebrew mikketz jamin , sometimes mean after some or several years , as we can see ( Deuteronomy 14:28 ) after three years , where the word three determines the number of years. But as there is no number noted in the passage in question, it could be translated after several years .

Indeed, it is quite probable that it was only after some years that Abel realized he was pleasing to God and Cain that he was not. The first prospered and saw his flock grow; Cain on the contrary could see that he was not flourishing, and that the earth did not furnish him with abundant harvests. These were the means by which God made him aware that he had accepted the sacrifice of Abel and had no regard for Cain’s, and this is what embittered the jealous Cain against his brother. Seeing that God blessed him much more than himself, Cain finally decided to kill him, and carried out that horrible plan.

We know the moving and pathetic manner in which the spiritual author of the poem on the death of Abel just recently treated this subject of our religion. Not only is this a novel work by its structure, its form, and its tone, but M. Gessner possesses in addition the art of increasing the interest we take in this event of sacred history with the vivid and stirring way he depicts the various passions of our first ancestors, and by the graces and the truth he puts into his representations when he describes the way of living of the first men to inhabited the earth. With regard to the sacrifice which Abel offered to God, he felt he should favor the theory of a victim in flames over the opinion of Grotius, and this is how he expresses himself on this subject in the careful translation made of it by M. Huber. It is too fine a piece not to adorn my article. Please read it. [8]

The sun, no longer yielding more than some soft light, was still shooting its last rays through the leaves, about to go hide behind the mountains; the flowers shed their perfumes on the zephyrs, as if trusting them to exhale them on the sun, and the birds freely gave to it the agreeable distraction of their concerts. Cain and Abel arrived under the canopy and saw with great joy their father restored to their sight. His prayer ended, he rose and embraced his wife and children with tears in his eyes, after which he returned to his cabin. Meanwhile Abel said to Cain: My dear brother, what form of thanks shall we offer to the lord for hearing our cries and restoring to us our precious father? For me, I shall go down to my altar, at this hour when the moon is rising, to offer in sacrifice to the lord the youngest of my lambs. And thou, my dear brother, hast thou the same thought? Wouldst thou also like to make a sacrifice to the lord on thine altar?

Cain, looking at him pensively: Yes, he said, I shall go to my altar to offer as a sacrifice to the lord what the barrenness of the fields gives me. Abel replied to him graciously: My brother, the lord counts for nothing the lamb that burns before him nor the fruits of the land which the flame consumes, provided a spotless piety burns in the heart of the man who offers one or the other.

Cain replied: It is true, the fire will instantly come down from heaven to consume thy burnt offering; for it is through thee that the lord has sent help; for my part, he disdained me, but I shall nevertheless go offer him my sacrifice.

Then Abel embraced Cain tenderly, saying: Ah, my brother, my dear brother, is it a further subject of displeasure for thee that the lord has used me to bring help to my father? If he used me, it is a commission which he gave to me for all of us. Oh my brother, banish, I pray thee, these terrible thoughts. The lord, who knows our soul, is able to find in them unjust thoughts and silent murmurs. Love me, as I love thee. Go and offer thy sacrifice, but do not allow impure dispositions to soil its holiness, and be sure that then the lord will receive favorably thy praise and thankful offering, and will bless thee from his lofty throne.

Cain did not reply; he set out for his fields, and Abel, watching him sorrowfully, set out for his pastures, each in the direction of his altar. Abel slaughtered the youngest of his lambs, laid it on the altar, sprinkled it with aromatic branches and flowers, and set fire to the sacrifice; then, stirred by fervent piety, he kneeled before the altar, and gave thanks to God with the most affectionate praise. During this time, the flame of the sacrifice spiraled up through the shades of night; the lord had forbidden the winds to blow because the sacrifice was pleasing to him.

Cain, for his part, placed the fruits of his fields on his sacrifice, and prostrated himself before his altar; at once the bushes rustled with a frightful noise, and a whirlwind dissipated the sacrifice with a roar and covered the poor devil in flames and smoke. Trembling, he stepped back from the altar, and a terrifying voice came out of the cloud and said to him: Why dost thou tremble, and why is there terror on thy face? There is still time: repent, I will forgive thee thy sin; or else thy sin and its punishment will pursue thee into thy cabin. Why dost thou hate thy brother? He loves and honors thee. The voice ceased, and Cain, gripped with fright, left this place so awesome for him, and returned home. The violent wind still chased behind him the vile smoke of the sacrifice; his heart shuddered, and a cold sweat flowed down his limbs.

Meanwhile, looking about him, he saw in the countryside the flames of his brother’s sacrifice spiraling up through the air. Filled with despair by this sight, he turned his steps away and went off with his grim melancholy until finally he stopped under a bush, and sleep soon spread its dark wings over him.

The genius that hell called Anamelech had long been observing his movements. He quietly followed Cain’s step, and seized the moment to trouble his soul with all the imaginings that could provoke him to distraction, envy with its corrupting sting, anger unleashed, and all the furious passions. While the impure spirit was working to trouble Cain’s soul thus, a tremendous noise could be heard on the crest of the mountains, a roaring wind shook the bushes and blew locks of Cain’s hair down his forehead and cheeks. But in vain did the bushes roar; in vain did the locks of his hair beat at his forehead and cheeks, sleep had pressed down on his eyes, and nothing could make him open them.

Cain was still shuddering from his dream when Abel, who had spotted him in the thicket at the foot of a boulder, approached, and casting on him eyes full of affection, he said with that gentleness that so characterized him: Oh, my brother, mayest thou soon awaken so that my heart, filled with tenderness, can express its feelings to thee, and my arms embrace thee! But rather, calm yourselves, impatient desires. His weary limbs may still need the restoring influence of sleep. But... see him lying there, defeated... anguished; ... fury seems painted on his brow. And why do you trouble him, frightening dreams? Leave his soul in peace; come, pleasant images, visions of sweet domestic occupations and tender embraces, come into his heart. May all that is lovely and pleasing in nature fill his imagination with charms and delights; may it be cheerful like a spring day! May joy be painted on his countenance, and at his awakening may anthems spring from his lips. At these words, he gazed at his brother with eyes alive with tender love and uneasy expectation.

As a fearsome lion asleep at the foot of a boulder terrifies the trembling traveler with his bristling mane and forces him to take a detour to pass; if in its rapid flight a deadly arrow should pierce his flank, he suddenly arises with a terrific roar and seeks his enemy, foaming with rage; the first object he encounters serves as fodder to his fury: he tears apart an innocent child playing with flowers in the grass. Thus did Cain arise, his eyes scintillating with rage. Cursed be the hour, he cried, when my mother, bringing me into the world, gave the first proof of her sad fecundity. Cursed be the region where she felt the first pains of childbirth. May all who were born here perish. May he who would sow there waste his efforts, and may a sudden terror give a shudder to all the bones of those who pass by.

Such were the lamentations of poor Cain, when Abel, pale as one is at the edge of the tomb, advanced with a timid and unsteady step. My brother, he said, his voice faltering with fright: Oh no... ye gods! ... I tremble!... One of the reproved rebels whom the lightning of the Eternal one cast down from heaven must have assumed his form and used it to blaspheme? Let us flee. Where art thou, my brother, that I may bless thee?

Here he is, cried Cain with thunder in his voice, here is that favorite of the eternal avenger and avenger of nature; all the rage of hell is in my heart. Can I not? .... Cain, my brother, said Abel, interrupting him with emotion in his voice and an alteration in his countenance, which expressed at once his surprise, his anxiety, and his affection, what terrible dream has troubled thy soul? I come at dawn to seek thee, to embrace thee with the new day; but what inner tempest stirs thee? How ill dost thou receive my tender love! When, alas, will the happy days come, the delightful days when peace and fraternal friendship restored will rekindle in our souls the sweet calm and joyous pleasures, those days for which our afflicted father and tender mother sigh so ardently? Oh Cain, does thou count for nothing the pleasures of reconciliation which thou didst feign to welcome when, all transported with joy, I ran into thine arms? Could I have since offended thee? Tell me if I had that misfortune; but thou ceaseth not to cast a furious gaze on me. I conjure thee by all that is sacred, let thyself be appeased, suffer my innocent caresses! Speaking these last words, he embraced Cain’s knees; but Cain lept backward: ... Ah! serpent, he said, thou wouldst wrap thyself around me! ... and saying this, he seized a heavy club which he raised with a furious arm, and struck Abel violently on the head. The innocent man fell at his feet, his skull crushed; he turned his gaze once more on his brother, his pardon painted in his eyes, and died. His blood ran down the curls of his blond hair to the very feet of the murderer.

At the sight of his crime, Cain, frightened, assumed a mortal pallor; cold sweat ran down his trembling limbs; he was witness to the final convulsions of his expiring brother. The smoke of this blood he had just spilled rose to him. Cursed blow! he cried, my brother!... Wake up, wake up, my brother! How pale is his face! How fixed is his eye! How his blood drenches his head... Wretch that I am.... Oh, what do I foresee!... He cast away from him the bloody club. Then, stooping to the poor victim of his rage, he tried to raise him up. Abel! my brother... he cried to the lifeless body; Abel, awake! .... Ah, the horror of hell is coming to seize me! O death.... It is over then forever; my crime is without remedy.

1. The Confraternity-Douay version is that Abel “brought some of the firstlings of his flock with their fat portions. The Lord was pleased with Abel and his offerings.”

2. Hugo Grotius (1583-1645), Dutch Humanist philosopher known today primarily for his just war theory, but wrote also on theology.

3. Jean Le Clerc (1657–1736), a prolific theologian, published a series of Biblical commentaries between 1693 and 1731.

4. I.e., the seventy presumed authors of the Septuagint.

5. The reference is faulty.

6. His use of Greek shows that Philo is most likely quoting from the Septuagint. The author of Biblical Antiquities ( Liber antiquitatum biblicarum ), probably written in Hebrew and first translated into Greek is now referred to as the anonymous Pseudo-Philo, writing probably in the first century.

7. “By faith Abel offered to God a sacrifice more excellent than did Cain” (Confraternity version).

8. Salomon Gessner (1730–1788), Der Tod Abels (Zurich, 1758); the link is to a 1764 Leipzig edition. It was translated into French as La mort d’Abel by Michel Huber (1727-1804) about 1760; the link is to an 1808 edition of this translation. The rest of this article, with some adaptation, consists of quotation from the third and fourth cantos of Gessner’s La Mort d’Abel in the Huber translation. Here is an eighteenth-century English translation.