CHAPTER III

MAIN FEATURES OF THE RELIGION OF NUMA

=1. Theology.=--The characteristic appellation of a divine spirit in

the oldest stratum of the Roman religion is not _deus_, a god, but

rather _numen_, a power: he becomes _deus_ when he obtains a name, and

so is on the way to acquiring a definite personality, but in origin he

is simply the 'spirit' of the 'animistic' period, and retains something

of the spirit's characteristics. Thus among the divinities of the

household we shall see later that the Genius and even the Lar

Familiaris, though they attained great dignity of conception, and were

the centre of the family life, and to some extent of the family

morality, never quite rose to the position of full-grown gods; while

among the spirits of the field the wildness and impishness of character

associated with Faunus and his companion Inuus--almost the cobolds or

hobgoblins of the flocks--reflects clearly the old 'animistic' belief

in the natural evilness of the spirits and their hostility to men. The

notion of the _numen_ is always vague and indefinite: even its sex may

be uncertain. 'Be thou god or goddess' is the form of address in the

farmer's prayer already quoted from Cato: 'be it male or female' is the

constant formula in liturgies and even dedicatory inscriptions of a

much later period.

These spirits are, as we have seen, indwellers in the objects of nature

and controllers of the phenomena of nature: but to the Roman they were

more. Not merely did they inhabit places and things, but they presided

over each phase of natural development, each state or action in the

life of man. Varro, for instance, gives us a list of the deities

concerned in the early life of the child, which, though it bears the

marks of priestly elaboration, may yet be taken as typical of the

feeling of the normal Roman family. There is Vaticanus, who opens the

child's mouth to cry, Cunina, who guards his cradle, Edulia and Potina,

who teach him to eat and drink, Statilinus, who helps him to stand up,

Adeona and Abeona, who watch over his first footstep, and many others

each with his special province of protection or assistance. The farmer

similarly is in the hands of a whole host of divinities who assist him

at each stage of ploughing, hoeing, sowing, reaping, and so forth. If

the _numen_ then lacks personal individuality, he has a very distinct

specialisation of function, and if man's appeal to the divinity is to

be successful, he must be very careful to make it in the right quarter:

it was a stock joke in Roman comedy to make a character 'ask for water

from Liber, or wine from the nymphs.' Hence we find in the prayer

formulæ in Cato and elsewhere the most careful precautions to prevent

the accidental omission of the deity concerned: usually the worshipper

will go through the whole list of the gods who may be thought to have

power in the special circumstances; sometimes he will conclude his

prayer with the formula 'whosoever thou art,' or 'and any other name by

which thou mayest desire to be called.' The _numen_ is thus vague in

his conception but specialised in his function, and so later on, when

certain deities have acquired definite names and become prominent above

the rest, the worshipper in appealing to them will add a cult-title, to

indicate the special character in which he wishes the deity to hear:

the woman in childbirth will appeal to Iuno Lucina, the general praying

for victory to Iuppiter Victor, the man who is taking an oath to

Iuppiter as the deus Fidius. As a still later development the

cult-title will, as it were, break off and set up for itself, usually

in the form of an abstract personification: Iuppiter, in the two

special capacities just noted, gives birth to Victoria and Fides.

The conception of the _numen_ being so formless and indefinite, it is

not surprising that in the genuine Roman religion there should have

been no anthropomorphic representations of the divinity at all. 'For

170 years,' Varro tells us, taking his date from the traditional

foundation of the city in 754 B.C., 'the Romans worshipped their gods

without images,' and he adds the characteristic comment, 'those who

introduced representations among the nations, took away fear and

brought in falsehood.' Symbols of a few deities were no doubt

recognised: we have noticed already the _silex_ of Iuppiter and the

boundary-stone of Terminus, which were probably at an earlier period

themselves objects of worship, and to these we may add the sacred

spears of Mars, and the _sigilla_ of the State-Penates. But for the

most part the _numina_ were without even such symbolic representation,

nor till about the end of the regal period was any form of temple built

for them to dwell in. The sacred fire of Vesta near the Forum was, it

is true, from the earliest times enclosed in a building; this, however,

was no temple, but merely an erection with the essentially practical

purpose of preventing the extinction of the fire by rain. The first

temple in the full sense of the word was according to tradition built

by Servius Tullius to Diana on the Aventine: the tradition is

significant, for Diana was not one of the _di indigetes_, the old

deities of the 'Religion of Numa,' but was introduced from the

neighbouring town of Aricia, and the attribution to Servius Tullius

nearly always denotes an Etruscan[3] or at any rate a non-Roman origin.

There were, however, altars in special places to particular deities,

built sometimes of stone, sometimes in a more homely manner of earth or

sods. We hear for instance of the altar of Mars in the Campus Martius,

of Quirinus on the Quirinal, of Saturnus at the foot of the Capitol,

and notably of the curious underground altar of Consus on what was

later the site of the Circus Maximus. But more characteristic than the

erection of altars is the connection of deities with special

localities. Naturally enough in the worship of the household Vesta had

her seat at the hearth, Ianus at the door, and the 'gods of the

storehouse' (_Penates_) at the cupboard by the hearth, but the same

idea appears too in the state-cult. Hilltops, groves, and especially

clearings in groves (_luci_) are the most usual sacred localities. Thus

Quirinus has his own sacred hill, Iuppiter is worshipped on the

Capitol, Vesta and Iuno Lucina have their sacred groves within the

boundaries of the city, and Dea Dia, Robigus, and Furrina similar

groves at the limits of Roman territory. The record of almost every

Roman cult reveals the importance of locality in connection with the

_di indigetes_, and the localities are usually such as would be

naturally chosen by a pastoral and agricultural people.

Such were roughly the main outlines of the genuine Roman 'theology.'

It has no gods of human form with human relations to one another,

interested in the life of men and capable of the deepest passions of

hatred and affection towards them, such as we meet, for instance, in

the mythology of Greece, but only these impersonal individualities, if

we may so call them, capable of no relation to one another, but able to

bring good or ill to men, localised usually in their habitations, but

requiring no artificial dwelling or elaborate adornment of their abode;

becoming gradually more and more specialised in function, yet gaining

thereby no more real protective care for their worshippers--a cold and

heartless hierarchy, ready to exact their due, but incapable of

inspiring devotion or enthusiasm. Let us ask next how the Romans

conceived of their own relations towards them.

=2. The Relation of Gods and Men.=--The character of the Roman was

essentially practical and his natural mental attitude that of the

lawyer. And so in his relation towards the divine beings whom he

worshipped there was little of sentiment or affection: all must be

regulated by clearly understood principles and carried out with formal

exactness. Hence the _ius sacrum_, the body of rights and duties in the

matter of religion, is regarded as a department of the _ius publicum_,

the fundamental constitution of the state, and it is significant, as

Marquardt has observed, that it was Numa, a king and lawgiver, and not

a prophet or a poet, who was looked upon as the founder of the Roman

religion. Starting from the simple general feeling of a dependence on a

higher power (_religio_), which is common to all religions, the Roman

gives it his own characteristic colour when he conceives of that

dependence as analogous to a civil contract between man and god. Both

sides are under obligation to fulfil their part: if a god answers a

man's prayer, he must be repaid by a thank-offering: if the man has

fulfilled 'his bounden duty and service,' the god must make his return:

if he does not, either the cause lies in an unconscious failure on the

human side to carry out the exact letter of the law, or else, if the

god has really broken his contract, he has, as it were, put himself out

of court and the man may seek aid elsewhere. In this notion we have the

secret of Rome's readiness under stress of circumstances, when all

appeals to the old gods have failed, to adopt foreign deities and cults

in the hope of a greater measure of success.

The contract-notion may perhaps appear more clearly if we consider one

or two of the normal religious acts of the Roman individual or state.

Take first of all the performance of the regular sacrifices or acts of

worship ordained by the state-calendar or the celebration of the

household _sacra_. The _pietas_ of man consists in their due

fulfilment, but he may through negligence omit them or make a mistake

in the ritual to be employed. In that case the gods, as it were, have

the upper hand in the contract and are not obliged to fulfil their

share, but the man can set himself right again by the offering of a

_piaculum_, which may take the form either of an additional sacrifice

or a repetition of the original rite. So, for instance, when Cato is

giving his farmer directions for the lustration of his fields, he

supplies him at the end with two significant formulæ: 'if,' he says,

'you have failed in any respect with regard to all your offerings, use

this formula: "Father Mars, if thou hast not found satisfaction in my

former offering of pig, sheep, and ox (the most solemn combination in

rustic sacrifices), then let this offering of pig and sheep and ox

appease thee": but if you have made a mistake in one or two only of

your offerings, then say, "Father Mars, because thou hast not found

satisfaction in that pig (or whatever it may be), let this pig appease

thee."' On the other hand, for intentional neglect, there was no

remedy: the man was _impius_ and it rested with the gods to punish him

as they liked (_deorum iniuriae dis curae_).

But apart from the regularly constituted ceremonies of religion, there

might be special occasions on which new relations would be entered into

between god and man. Sometimes the initiative would come from man:

desiring to obtain from the gods some blessings on which he had set

his heart, he would enter into a _votum_, a special contract by which

he undertook to perform certain acts or make certain sacrifices, in

case of the fulfilment of his desire. The whole proceeding is strictly

legal: from the moment when he makes his vow the man is _voti reus_, in

the same position, that is, as the defendant in a case whose decision

is still pending; as soon as the gods have accomplished their side of

the contract he is _voti damnatus_, condemned, as it were, to damages,

having lost his suit; nor does he recover his independence until he has

paid what he undertook: _votum reddidi lubens merito_ ('I have paid my

vow gladly as it was due') is the characteristic wording of votive

inscriptions. If the gods did not accomplish the wish, the man was of

course free, and sometimes the contract would be carried so far that a

time-limit for their action would be fixed by the maker of the vow:

legal exactness can hardly go further.

Or again, the initiative might come from the gods. Some marked

misfortune, an earthquake, lightning, a great famine, a portentous

birth, or some such occurrence would be recognised as a _prodigium_, or

sign of the god's displeasure. Somehow or other the contract must have

been broken on the human side and it was the duty of the state to see

to the restoration of the _pax deum_, the equilibrium of the normal

relation of god and man. The right proceeding in such a case was a

_lustratio_, a solemn cleansing of the people--or the portion of the

people involved in the god's displeasure--with the double object of

removing the original reason of misfortune and averting future causes

of the divine anger. The commercial notion is not perhaps quite so

distinct here, but the underlying legal relationship is sufficiently

marked.

If then the question be asked whether the relation between the Roman

and his gods was friendly or unfriendly, the correct answer would

probably be that it was neither. It was rather what Aristotle in

speaking of human relations describes as 'a friendship for profit': it

is entered into because both sides hope for some advantage--it is

maintained as long as both sides fulfil their obligations.

=3. Ceremonial.=--It has been said sometimes that the old Roman

religion was one of cult and ritual without dogma or belief. As we have

seen this is not in origin strictly true, and it would be fairer to say

that belief was latent rather than non-existent: this we may see, for

instance, from Cicero's dialogues on the subject of religion, where in

discussion the fundamental sense of the dependence of man on the help

of the gods comes clearly into view: in the domestic worship of the

family too cult was always to some extent 'tinged with emotion,' and

sanctified by a belief which made it a more living and in the end a

more permanent reality than the religion of the state. But it is no

doubt true that as the community advanced, belief tended to sink into

the background: development took place in cult and not in theology, so

that by the end of the Republic, to take an example, though the

festival of the Furrinalia was duly observed every year on the 25th of

July, the nature or function of the goddess Furrina was, as we learn

from Cicero, a pure matter of conjecture, and Varro tells us that her

name was known only to a few persons. Nor was it mere lapse of time

which tended to obscure theology and exalt ceremonial: their relative

position was the immediate and natural outcome of the underlying idea

of the relation of god and man. Devotion, piety--in our sense of the

term--and a feeling of the divine presence could not be enjoined or

even encouraged by the strictly legal conception on which religion was

based: the 'contract-notion' required not a 'right spirit' but right

performance. And so it comes about that in all the records we have left

of the old religion the salient feature which catches and retains our

attention is exactness of ritual. All must be performed not merely

'decently and in order,' but with the most scrupulous care alike for

every detail of the ceremonial itself, and for the surrounding

circumstances. The omission or misplacement of a single word in the

formulæ, the slightest sign of resistance on the part of the victim,

any disorder among the bystanders, even the accidental squeak of a

mouse, are sufficient to vitiate the whole ritual and necessitate its

repetition from the very beginning. One of the main functions of the

Roman priesthood was to preserve intact the tradition of formulæ and

ritual, and, when the magistrate offered sacrifice for the state, the

_pontifex_ stood at his side and dictated (_praeire_) the formulæ which

he must use. Almost the oldest specimen of Latin which we now possess

is the song of the Salii, the priests of Mars, handed on from

generation to generation and repeated with scrupulous care, even though

the priests themselves, as Quintilian assures us, had not the least

notion what it meant. Nor was it merely the words of ceremonial which

were of vital importance: other details must be attended to with equal

exactness. Place, as we have seen, was an essential feature even in the

conception of deity, and it must have required all the personal

influence of Augustus and his entourage to reconcile the people of

Rome, with the ancient home of the goddess still before their eyes, to

the second shrine of Vesta within the limits of his palace on the

Palatine. The choice of the appropriate offering again was a matter of

the greatest moment and was dictated by a large number of

considerations. The sex of the victim must correspond to the sex of the

deity to whom it is offered, white beasts must be given to the gods of

the upper world, black victims to the deities below. Mars at his

October festival must have his horse, Iuno Caprotina her goat, and

Robigus his dog, while in the more rustic festivals such as the

Parilia, the offering would be the simpler gift of millet-cakes and

bowls of milk: in the case of the Bona Dea we have the curious

provision that if wine were used in the ceremonial, it must, as she was

in origin a pastoral deity, always be spoken of as 'milk.' The persons

who might be present in the various festivals were also rigidly

determined: men were excluded from the Matronalia on March 1, from the

Vestalia on the 9th of June, and from the night festival of the Bona

Dea: the notorious escapade of Clodius in 62 B.C. shows the scandal

raised by a breach of this rule even at the period when religious

enthusiasm was at its lowest ebb. Slaves were specifically admitted to

a share in certain festivals such as the Saturnalia and the Compitalia

(the festival of the Lares), whereas at the Matralia (the festival of

the matrons) a female slave was brought in with the express purpose of

being significantly driven away.

The general notion of the exactness of ritual will perhaps become

clearer when we come to examine some of the festivals in detail, but it

is of extreme importance for the understanding of the Roman religious

attitude, to think of it from the first as an essential part in the

expression of the relation of man to god.

=4. Directness of Relation--Functions of Priests.=--In contrast to all

this precision of ritual, which tends almost to alienate humanity from

deity, we may turn to another hardly less prominent feature of the

Roman religion--the immediateness of relation between the god and his

worshippers. Not only may the individual at any time approach the altar

of the god with his prayer or thank-offering, but in every community of

persons its religious representative is its natural head. In the

family the head of the household (_pater familias_) is also the priest

and he is responsible for conducting the religious worship of the whole

house, free and slave alike: to his wife and daughters he leaves the

ceremonial connected with the hearth (_Vesta_) and the deities of the

store-cupboard (_Penates_), and to his bailiff the sacrifice to the

powers who protect his fields (_Lares_), but the other acts of worship

at home and in the fields he conducts himself, and his sons act as his

acolytes. Once a year he meets with his neighbours at the boundaries of

their properties and celebrates the common worship over the

boundary-stones. So in[4] the larger outgrowth of the family, the

_gens_, which consisted of all persons with the same surname (_nomen_,

not _cognomen_), the gentile _sacra_ are in the hands of the more

wealthy members who are regarded as its heads; we have the curious

instance of Clodius even after his adoption into another family,

providing for the worship of the _gens Clodia_ in his own house, and we

may remember Virgil's picture of the founders of the _gentes_ of the

Potitii and the Pinarii performing the sacrifice to Hercules at the

_ara maxima_, which was the traditional privilege of their houses.

When societies (_sodalitates_) are formed for religious purposes they

elect their own _magistri_ to be their religious representatives, as we

see in the case of the Salii and the Luperci. Finally, in the great

community of the state the king is priest, and with that exactness of

parallelism of which the Roman was so fond, he--like the _pater

familias_--leaves the worship of Vesta in the hands of his 'daughters,'

the Vestal virgins. And so, when the Republic is instituted, a special

official, the _rex sacrorum_, inherits the king's ritual duties, while

the superintendence of the Vestals passes to his representative in the

matter of religious law, the _pontifex maximus_, whose official

residence is always the _regia_, Numa's palace. The state is but the

enlarged household and the head of the state is its religious

representative.

If then the approach to the gods is so direct, where, it may be asked,

in the organisation of Roman religion is there room for the priest? Two

points about the Roman priesthood are of paramount importance. In the

first place, they are not a caste apart: though there were restrictions

as to the holding of secular magistracies in combination with the

priesthood--always observed strictly in the case of the _rex sacrorum_

and with few exceptions in the case of the greater _flamines_--yet the

_pontifices_ might always take their part in public life, and no kind

of barrier existed between them and the rest of the community: Iulius

Cæsar himself was _pontifex maximus_. In the second place they are not

regarded as representatives of the gods or as mediators between god and

man, but simply as administrative officials appointed for the

performance of the acts of state-worship, just as the magistrates were

for its civil and military government. In origin they were chosen to

assist the king in the multifarious duties of the state-cult--the

_flamines_ were to act as special priests of particular deities, the

most prominent among them being the three great priests of Iuppiter

(_flamen Dialis_), Mars, and Quirinus; the _pontifices_ were sometimes

delegates of the king on special occasions, but more particularly

formed his religious _consilium_, a consulting body, to give him advice

as to ritual and act as the repositories of tradition. In later times

the _flamines_ still retain their original character, the _pontifices_

and especially the _pontifex maximus_ are responsible for the whole

organisation of the state-religion and are the guardians and

interpreters of religious lore. In the state-cult then the priests play

a very important part, but their relation to the worship of the

individual was very small indeed. They had a general superintendence

over private worship and their leave would be required for the

introduction of any new domestic cult; in cases too where the private

person was in doubt as to ritual or the legitimacy of any religious

practice, he could appeal to the _pontifices_ for decision. Otherwise

the priest could never intervene in the worship of the family, except

in the case of the most solemn form of marriage (_confarreatio_),

which, as it conferred on the children the right to hold certain of the

priesthoods, was regarded itself as a ceremony of the state-religion.

In his private worship then the individual had immediate access to the

deity, and it was no doubt this absence of priestly mediation and the

consequent sense of personal responsibility, no less than its emotional

significance, which caused the greater reality and permanence of the

domestic worship as compared with the organised and official cults of

the state.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Etruscan builders were according to tradition employed on the

earliest Roman temples.

[4] This is all open to doubt, but see De Marchi, _Il Culto Privato_,

vol. ii.

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