Chapter X: Part 10
The god had a bronze statue in the Vicus Tuscus, and perhaps for that reason was believed to have come to Rome from Etruria[854]. But his name, like Picumnus, is beyond doubt Latin, and may be supposed to indicate the turn or change in the year at the fruit-season[855]; and if he really was an immigrant, which is possible, his original cult in Etruria was not Etruscan proper, but old Italian.
Three other dedications are mentioned in the calendars as occurring on Aug. 13: to Hercules invictus ad portam trigeminam; to Castor and Pollax in circo Flaminio; and to Flora ad circum maximum. Of these cults nothing of special interest is known, and the deities are treated of in other parts of this work.
XVI KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 17). NP.
PORT[UNALIA]. (MAFF. AMIT. VALL.) TIBERINALIA. (PHILOC.) FERIAE PORTUNO. (AMIT. ANT.) PORTUNO AD PONTEM AEMILIUM. (AMIT. VALL. ALLIF.) IANO AD THEATRUM MARCELLI. (VALL. ALLIF.)
Who was Portunus, and why was his festival in August? Why was it at the Pons Aemilius, and where was that bridge? Can any connexion be found between this and the other August rites? These questions cannot be answered satisfactorily; the scraps of evidence are too few and too doubtful. We have here to do with another ancient deity, who survives in the calendars only, and in the solitary record that he had a special flamen. This flamen might be a plebeian[856], which seems to suit with the character of other cults in the district by the Tiber, and may perhaps point to a somewhat later origin than that of the most ancient city worships.
There are but two or three texts which help us to make an uncertain guess at the nature of Portunus. Varro[857] wrote ‘Portunalia et Portuno, quoi eo die aedes in portu Tiberino facta et feriae institutae.’ Mommsen takes the _portus_ here as meaning Ostia at the mouth of the Tiber, and imagines a yearly procession thither from Rome on this day[858]. This of course is pure hypothesis; but if, as he insists, _portus_ is rarely or never used for a city wharf on a river such as that at Rome, we may perhaps accept it provisionally; but in doing so we have to yield another point to Mommsen, viz. the identity of Portunus and Tiberinus. In the very late calendar of Philocalus this day is called Tiberinalia, and from this Mommsen infers the identity of the two deities[859].
But it may be that the original Portunus had no immediate connexion either with river or harbour. We find a curious but mutilated note in the Veronese commentary on Virgil[860]: ‘Portunus, ut Varro ait, deus port[uum porta]rumque praeses. Quare huius dies festus Portunalia, qua apud veteres claves in focum add ... mare institutum.’ Huschke[861] here conjectured ‘addere et infumare,’ and inferred that we should see in Portunus the god of the gates and keys which secured the stock of corn, &c., in storehouses. Wild as this writer’s conjectures usually are, in this case it seems to me possible that he has hit the mark. If the words ‘claves in focum’ are genuine, as they seem to be, we can hardly avoid the conclusion that something was done to keys on this day; perhaps the old keys of very hard wood were held in the fire to harden them afresh[862]. It is worth noting that according to Verrius[863] Portunus was supposed ‘clavim manu tenere et deus esse portarum.’ This would suit very well with harvest-time, when barns and storehouses would be repaired and their gates and fastenings looked to—more especially as it is not unlikely that the word _portus_ originally meant a safe place of any kind, and only as civilization advanced became specially appropriated to harbours[864]. This appropriation may have come about through the medium of storehouses near the Tiber; and it was long ago suggested by Jordan that these were under the particular care of Portunus[865].
If Portunus were really a god of keys and doors and storehouses, it would be natural to look for some close relation between him and Janus. But what can be adduced in favour of such a relation does not amount to much[866]; and it may have been merely by accident that this was the dedication-day of a temple of Janus ‘ad theatrum Marcelli’[867].
XIV KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 19). FP. (MAFF. AMIT.) F.
(ANT. ALLIF.) NP. (VALL.[868])
VIN[ALIA]. (MAFF. VALL. AMIT. ETC.)
FERIAE IOVI. (ALLIF.)
VENERI AD CIRCUM MAXIMUM. (VALL.)
The ‘Aedes Veneris ad Circum Maximum’ alluded to in the _Fasti Vallenses_ was dedicated in 295 B.C., and the building was begun at the expense of certain matrons who were fined for adultery[869]. As has been already explained, no early connexion can be proved between Venus and wine or the vintage[870]; though both August 19 and April 23, the days of the two Vinalia, were dedication-days of temples of the goddess.
The difficult question of the two festivals called Vinalia has been touched upon under April 23. The one in August was known as Vinalia Rustica[871], and might naturally be supposed to be concerned with the ripening grapes. It has been conjectured[872] that it was on this day, which one calendar marks as a festival of Jupiter, that the Flamen Dialis performed the _auspicatio vindemiae_, i. e. plucked the first grapes, and prayed and sacrificed for the safety of the whole crop[873]. If it be argued that August 23 was too early a date for such a rite, since the vintage was never earlier than the middle of September, we may remember that the Vestal Virgins plucked the first ears of corn as early as the first half of May for the purpose of making sacred cakes, some weeks before the actual harvest[874].
But it is certainly possible that both Vinalia have to do with wine, and not with the vintage. Festus says that this day was a festival because the new wine was then first brought into the city[875]; and this does not conflict with Varro[876], who tells us that on this day _fiunt feriati olitores_—for it would naturally be a day of rejoicing for the growers. Mommsen, with some reason, refers these passages to the later custom of not opening the wine of the last vintage for a year[877], in which case the year must be understood roughly as from October to August. He would, in fact, explain this second Vinalia as instituted when this later and more luxurious custom arose, the old rule of a six months’ period surviving in the April ceremony. If we ask why the August Vinalia are called Rustica, Mommsen answers that the country growers were now at liberty to bring in their wine.
It is difficult to decide between these conflicting views. When an authority like Mommsen bids us beware of connecting the Vinalia Rustica with the _auspicatio vindemiae_, we feel that it is at our peril that we differ from him. He is evidently quite unable to look upon such a date as August 19 as in any way associated with the vintage which followed some weeks later. Yet I cannot help thinking, that this association is by no means impossible; for the grapes would by this time be fully formed on the vines, and the next few weeks would be an anxious time for the growers[878]. Ceremonies like that of the Auspicatio, intended to avert from crops the perils of storm or disease, are known sometimes to take place when the crops are still unripe. I have already alluded to the proceedings of the Vestals in May. Mr. Frazer, in an Appendix to his _Golden Bough_[879], gives a curious instance of this kind from Tonga in the Pacific Ocean, where what we may call the auspicatio of the Yam-crop took place before the whole crop was fit for gathering. It was celebrated ‘just before the yams in general are arrived at a state of maturity; those which are used in this ceremony being planted sooner than others, and consequently they are the firstfruits of the yam season. The object of this offering is to ensure the protection of the gods, that their favour may be extended to the welfare of the nation generally and in particular to the productions of the earth, of which yams are the most important.’
XII KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 21). NP.
CONS[UALIA]. (PINC. MAFF. VALL. ETC.)
CONSO IN AVENTINO SACRIFICIUM. (VALL.)
There was a second festival of Consus on Dec. 15; but the note ‘Conso in Aventino’ there appears three days earlier, Dec. 12. The temple on the Aventine was a comparatively late foundation[880]; but as the cult of this old god became gradually obscured, it seems to have been confused with the most ancient centre of Consus-worship, the underground altar in the Circus maximus, ‘ad primas metas’[881]. It is with this latter that we must connect the two Consualia. What the altar was like we do not exactly know; it was only uncovered on the festival days. Dionysius calls it a τέμενος, Servius a ‘templum sub tecto’; and Tertullian, who explicitly says that it was ‘sub terra,’ asserts that there was engraved on it the following inscription: ‘Consus consilio, Mars duello, Lares coillo[882] potentes.’ Wissowa remarks that this statement ‘is not free from suspicion’; and we may take it as pretty certain that if it was really there it was not very ancient. The false etymology of Consus, and the connexion of Mars with war, both show the hand of some comparatively late interpreter of religion; and the form of the inscription, nominative and descriptive, is most suspiciously abnormal.
For the true etymology of Consus we are, strange to say, hardly in doubt; and it helps us to conjecture the real origin of this curious altar. Consus is connected with ‘condere’[883], and may be interpreted as the god of the stored-up harvest; the buried altar will thus be a reminiscence of the very ancient practice—sometimes of late suggested as worth reviving for hay—of storing the corn underground[884]. Or if this practice cannot be proved of ancient Italy, we may aptly remember that sacrifices to chthonic deities were sometimes buried; a practice which may in earliest times have given rise to the connexion of such gods with wealth—when agricultural produce rather than the precious metals was the common form of wealth[885]. Or again we may combine the two interpretations, and guess that the corn stored up underground was conceived as in some sense sacrificed to the chthonic deities.
If these views of the altar are correct, we might naturally infer that the Consualia in August was a harvest festival of some kind. Plutarch[886] asks why at the Consualia horses and asses have a holiday and are decked out with flowers; and such a custom would suit excellently with harvest-home. Unluckily in the only trace of this custom preserved in the calendars, it is attributed to the December festival, and is so mutilated as to be useless for detail[887].
FERIAE CONSO EQUI ET [MULI FLORIBUS CORONANTUR].
QUOD IN EIUS TU[TELA SUNT].
[ITA]QUE REX EQUO [VECTUS].
The amplifications here are Mommsen’s, the first two based on Plutarch’s statement. It is a difficulty, as regards the first, that the middle of December would be a bad time for flowers: perhaps this did not occur to the great scholar. I would suggest that either Verrius’ note is here accidentally misplaced, or that the lacunae must be filled up differently. In any case I do not think we need fear to refer Plutarch’s passage to the Consualia of August, and therefore to harvest rejoicings on that day.
The connexion of the Consus-cult with horses was so obvious as to give rise eventually to the identification of the god with Poseidon Hippios. It is certain that there were horse-races in the Circus maximus at one of the two Consualia, and as Dionysius[888] connects them with the day of the Rape of the Sabines, which Plutarch puts in August, we may be fairly sure that they took place at the August festival. Mules also raced—according to Festus[889], because they were said to be the most ancient beasts of burden. This looks like a harvest festival, and may carry us back to the most primitive agricultural society and explain the origin of the Circus maximus; for the only other horse-races known to us from the old calendar were those of Mars in the Campus Martius on Feb. 27 and March 13[890]. We may suppose that when the work of harvest was done, the farmers and labourers enjoyed themselves in this way and laid the foundation for a great Roman social institution[891].
Once more, it is not impossible that in the legendary connexion of the Rape of the Sabine women with the Consualia[892] we may see a reflection of the jollity and license which accompanies the completion of harvest among so many peoples. Romulus was said to have attracted the Sabines by the first celebration of the Consualia. Is it not possible that the meeting of neighbouring communities on a festive occasion of this kind may have been a favourable opportunity for capturing new wives[893]? The sexual license common on such occasions has been abundantly illustrated by Mr. Frazer in his _Golden Bough_[894].
Before leaving the Consualia we may just remark that Consus had no flamen of his own, in spite of his undoubted antiquity; doubtless because his altar was underground, and only opened once or perhaps twice a year. On August 21 his sacrifice was performed, says Tertullian[895], by the Flamen Quirinalis in the presence of the Vestals. This flamen seems to have had a special relation to the corn-crops, for it was he who also sacrificed a dog to Robigus on April 25[896], to avert the mildew from them; and thus we get one more confirmation from the cult of the view taken as to the agricultural origin of the Consualia.
X KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 23). NP.
VOLCANALIA. (PINC. MAFF. VALL. ETC.) VOLCANO IN CIRCO FLAMINIO. (VALL.) VOLCANO. (PINC.)
(A mutilated fragment of the calendar of the Fratres Arvales gives QUIR[INO] IN COLLE, VOLK[ANO] IN COMIT[IO]. OPI OPIFER[AE] IN ..., [NYMP]HIS(?) IN CAMPO).
Of the cult of this day, apart from the extracts from the calendars, we know nothing, except that the heads of Roman families threw into the fire certain small fish with scales, which were to be had from the Tiber fishermen at the ‘area Volcani’[897]. We cannot explain this; but it reminds us of the fish called _maena_, with magical properties, which the old woman offered to Tacita and the ghost-world at the Parentalia[898]. Fish-sacrifices were rare; and if in one rite fish are used to propitiate the inhabitants of the underworld, they seem not inappropriate in another of which the object is apparently to propitiate the fire-god, who in a volcanic country like that of Rome must surely be a chthonic deity.
The antiquity of the cult of Volcanus is shown by the fact that there was a Flamen Volcanalis[899], who on May 1 sacrificed to Maia, the equivalent, as we saw, of Bona Dea, Terra, &c. With Volcanus we may remember that Maia was coupled in the old prayer formula preserved by Gellius (13.23)—_Maia Volcani_. From these faint indications Preller[900] conjectured that the original notion of Volcanus was that of a favouring nature-spirit, perhaps of the warmth and fertilizing power of the earth. However this may be, in later times, under influences which can only be guessed at, he became a hostile fire-god, hard to keep under control. Of this aspect of him Wissowa has written concisely at the conclusion of his little treatise _de Feriis_. He suggests that the appearance of the nymphs[901] in the rites of this day indicates the use of water in conflagrations, and that Ops Opifera was perhaps invoked to protect her own storehouses. The name Volcanus became a poetical word for devouring fire as early as the time of Ennius, and is familiar to us in this sense in Virgil[902]. After the great fire at Rome in Nero’s time a new altar was erected to Volcanus by Domitian, at which (and at all Volcanalia) on this day a red calf and a boar were offered for sacrifice[903]. At Ostia the cult became celebrated; there was an ‘aedes’ and a ‘pontifex Volcani’ and a ‘praetor sacris Volcani faciundis.’ In August the storehouses at Ostia would be full of new grain arrived from Sicily, Africa, and Egypt, and in that hot month would be especially in danger from fire; an elaborate cult of Volcanus the fire-god was therefore at this place particularly desirable.
The aedes Volcani in circo Flaminio was dedicated before 215 B.C.; the exact date is not known[904]. Its position was explained by Vitruvius[905] as having the object of keeping conflagrations away from the city. Mr. Jevons, in his Introduction to a translation of Plutarch’s _Quaestiones Romanae_[906], has argued from this position, outside the pomoerium, and from a doubtful etymology, that the cult of Volcanus was a foreign introduction; but the position of the temple is no argument, as has been well shown by Aust[907], and the chief area Volcani, or Volcanal, was in the Comitium, in the heart of the city[908].
IX KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 24). MUNDUS PATET.
This does not appear in the calendars. We learn from Festus[909] that on this day, on Oct. 5, and Nov. 8, the ‘mundus’ was open. This mundus was a round pit on the Palatine, the centre of Roma quadrata[910]—the concave hollow being perhaps supposed to correspond to the concave sky above[911]. It was closed, so it was popularly believed, by a ‘lapis manalis’ (Festus s. v.). When this was removed, on the three days there was supposed to be free egress for the denizens of the underworld[912].
I am much inclined to see in this last idea a later Graeco-Etruscan accretion upon a very simple original fact. O. Müller long ago suggested this—pointing out that in Plutarch’s description of the foundation of Roma quadrata the casting into the trench of first-fruits of all necessaries of life gives us a clue to the original meaning of the mundus. If we suppose that it was the _penus_ of the new city—a sacred place, of course—used for storing grain, we can see why it should be open on Aug. 24[913]. Nor is it difficult to understand why, when the original use and meaning had vanished, the Graeco-Etruscan doctrine of the underworld should be engrafted on this simple Roman stem. Dis and Proserpina claim the mundus: it is ‘ianua Orci,’ ‘faux Plutonis’[914]—ideas familiar to Romans who had come under the spell of Etruscan religious beliefs.
VIII KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 25). NP.
OPIC[ONSIVIA]. (ALLIF. MAFF. VALL.)
OPICID. (PINC.) The last two letters must be a cutter’s error.
FERIAE OPI; OPI CONSIV. IN REGIA. (ARV.) The last four words seem to belong to Aug. 26 (see Mommsen ad loc.).
This festival follows that of Consus after an interval of three days; and Wissowa[915] has pointed out that in December the same interval occurs between the Consualia (15th) and the Opalia (19th). This and the epithet or cognomen Consiva, which is fully attested[916], led him to fancy that Ops was the wife of Consus, and not the wife of Saturnus, as has been generally supposed both in ancient and modern times[917]. We may agree with him that there is no real evidence for any _primitive_ connexion of Saturnus and Ops of this kind; as far as we can tell the idea was adopted from the relation of Cronos and Rhea. But there was no need to find any husband for Ops; the name Consiva need imply no such relation, any more than Lua Saturni, Moles Martis, Maia Volcani, and the rest[918], or the Tursa Iovia of the Iguvian inscription so often quoted. Both adjectival and genitive forms are in my view no more than examples of the old Italian instinct for covering as much ground as possible in invoking supernatural powers[919]; and this is again a result of the indistinctness with which those powers were conceived, in regard both to their nature and function. A distinct specialization of function was, I am convinced, the later work of the pontifices. Ops and Consus are obviously closely related; and Wissowa is probably right in treating the one as a deity ‘messis condendae,’ and the other as representing the ‘opima frugum copia quae horreis conditur.’ But when he goes further than this, his arguments ring hollow[920].
Of the ritual of the Opiconsivia we know only what Varro tells us[921]: ‘Opeconsiva dies ab dea Ope Consiva, quoius in Regia sacrarium, quod ideo actum (so MSS.) ut eo praeter Virgines Vestales et sacerdotem publicum introeat nemo.’ Many conjectures have been made for the correction of ‘quod ideo actum’[922]; but the real value of the passage does not depend on these words. The Regia is the king’s house, and represents that of the ancient head of the family: the sacrarium Opis was surely then the sacred _penus_ of that house—the treasury of the fruits of the earth on which the family subsisted. It suits admirably with this view that, as Varro says, only the Vestals and a ‘publicus sacerdos’ were allowed to enter it—i. e. the form was retained from remote antiquity that the daughters of the house were in charge of it[923]—the master of the house being here represented by the sacerdos—the rex sacrorum or a pontifex. In this connexion it is worth while to quote a passage of Columella[924] which seems to be derived from some ancient practice of the rural household: ‘Ne contractentur pocula vel _cibi_ nisi aut ab impube aut certe abstinentissimo rebus venereis, quibus si fuerit operatus vel vir vel femina debere eos flumine aut perenni aqua priusquam penora contingant ablui. Propter quod his necessarium esse pueri vel virginis ministerium, per quos promantur quae usus postulaverit.’
VI KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 27). NP.
VOLT[URNALIA]. (ALLIF. MAFF. VALL.)
FERIAE VOLTURNO. (ARV. INTER ADDITA POSTERIORA.)
VOLTURNO FLUMINI SACRIFICIUM. (VALL.)
Of this very ancient and perhaps obsolete rite nothing seems to have been known to the later Latin scholars, or they did not think it worth comment. Varro mentions a Flamen Volturnalis, but tells us nothing about him. From the occurrence of the name for a river in Campania it may be guessed that the god in this case was a river also; and if so, it must be the Tiber. This is Mommsen’s conclusion, and the only difficulty he finds in it is that (in his view) Portunus is also the Tiber[925]. Why did he not see that the same river-god, even if bearing different names, could hardly have two flamines? I am content to see in Volturnus an old name for the Tiber, signifying the winding snake-like river[926], and in Portunus a god of storehouses, as I have explained above.
Here, then, we perhaps have a trace of the lost cult of the Tiber, which assuredly must have existed in the earliest times—and the _flamen_ is the proof of its permanent importance. When the name was changed to Tiber we do not know, nor whether ‘Albula’ marks an intermediate stage between the two; but that this was the work of the pontifices seems likely from Servius[927], who writes ‘Tiberinus ... a pontificibus indigitari solet.’ Of a god Tiberinus there is no single early record.
It should just be mentioned that Jordan[928], relying on Lucretius, 5. 745, thought it probable that Volturnus might be a god of whirlwinds; and Huschke[929] has an even wilder suggestion, which need not here be mentioned.
Footnote 790:
Varro, _R. R._ I. 33, has only the following: ‘Quinto intervallo,
inter caniculam et aequinoctium auctumnale oportet stramenta desecari,
et acervos construi, aratro offringi, frondem caedi, prata irrigua
iterum secari.’
Footnote 791:
This is the natural position for the _ager_ of the oldest community on
the Palatine. The Campus Martius was believed to have been ‘king’s
land’ of the later developed city (Liv. 2. 5).
Footnote 792:
Liv. 10. 1. 9; Aust, _de Aedibus sacris_, p. 10.
Footnote 793:
Marq. 377; Dio Cass. 37. 24 and 25; Tac. _Ann._ 12. 23.
Footnote 794:
_C. I. L._ i. 49 and 179.
Footnote 795:
See Preller, ii. 228; and article ‘Sacerdos’ in _Dict. of
Antiquities_, new edition.
Footnote 796:
On this difficult subject see _Dict. of Antiquities_, s.v.
Indigitamenta; and the long and exhaustive article by R. Peter in
Roscher’s _Lexicon_ (which is, however, badly written, and in some
respects, I think, misleading).
Footnote 797:
See the valuable summary of Aust (in ten lines).
Footnote 798:
Plin. _N. H._ 35. 19.
Footnote 799:
40. 19.
Footnote 800:
Paulus, 23; Quintil. 1. 7. 12; Varro, _L. L._ 5. 52 (from the ‘sacra
Argeorum’), if we read ‘adversum Solis pulvinar cis aedem Salutis.’
The name is said to be connected with the Umbrian and Etruscan god of
light, Usil, a word thought to be recognizable in Aurelius (=
Auselius, Varro, l. c.), and in the Ozeul of the Salian hymn
(Wordsworth, _Fragments and Specimens of Early Latin_, p. 564 foll.).
Footnote 801:
So e. g. Virgil, _Georg._ 1. 498 ‘Di patrii indigites et Romule
Vestaque Mater.’ Peter, in _Lex._ s. v. Indigitamenta, 132.
Footnote 802:
i. 325.
Footnote 803:
_Lex._ s. v. Indigitamenta, 137.
Footnote 804:
Wissowa, _de Romanorum Indigetibus et Novensidibus_ (Marburg, 1892).
Footnote 805:
Merkel, _Praef. in Ov. Fastos_, cxxxv; Mommsen, _C. I. L._ 324.
Footnote 806:
_Lex._ s. v. Hercules, 2903 foll., where R. Peter has summarized and
criticized all the various opinions.
Footnote 807:
Liv. I. 7.
Footnote 808:
Dionys. I. 40, who says that the duties were performed by slaves in
his day. See _Lex._ 2925 for a long list of conjectures about this
part of the legend. The Potitii never occur in inscriptions; and I
think with Jordan (Preller, ii. 291) that the name is imaginary,
invented to account for the functions of the slaves.
Footnote 809:
_C. I. L._ vi. 312-319, found on the site of the _aedes_.
Footnote 810:
Macrob. 3. 12. 2; Varro, _L. L._ 6. 15. The uncovered head also occurs
in the cult of Saturnus; and R. Peter argues that the custom may after
all be old-Italian (_Lex._ 2928).
Footnote 811:
Marquardt, _Privatalterthümer_, vol. i, p. 291.
Footnote 812:
See above, p. 142 foll. Plut. _Qu. Rom._ 60; Macrob. 1. 12. 38. In _Q.
R._ 90 Plutarch notes that no other god might be mentioned at the
sacrifice, and no dog might be admitted.
Footnote 813:
_de Re Rustica_, 83.
Footnote 814:
The word was _profanatum_, opposed to _polluctum_ (see Marq. 149).
Footnote 815:
_Aen._ 8. 281 foll.
Footnote 816:
Salii are found in the cult of Hercules also at Tibur: Macrob. 3. 12.
7. See a note of Jordan in Preller, i. 352.
Footnote 817:
_Lex._ 2931 foll.; _C. I. L._ i. 149 foll.
Footnote 818:
The examples are collected by R. Peter in _Lex._ 2935.
Footnote 819:
Festus, 253, s. v. pollucere merces; Plut. _Qu. Rom._ 18; _Vita
Sullae_, 35; _Crassi_, 2; _Lex._ 2032 foll.
Footnote 820:
Marq. 469; Festus, p. 318, s. v. sacrima.
Footnote 821:
Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 233.
Footnote 822:
_G. B._ ii. 373 foll.
Footnote 823:
In the legend Hercules gave a tenth part of his booty to the
inhabitants of the place (Dionys 1. 40).
Footnote 824:
See Mommsen in _C. I. L._ i. 150.
Footnote 825:
e. g. in Bréal, _Hercule et Cacus_.
Footnote 826:
See _Lex._ 2286 (R. Peter, quoting Reifferscheid).
Footnote 827:
_Journal of Hellenic Studies_, vol. xiii. 73. Professor Gardner is
inclined to consider the myth as Phoenician rather than Greek, and
attached to the Phoenician Melcarth = Herakles. The vase is in the
Ashmolean Museum, and was found by the Keeper, Mr. Arthur Evans.
Footnote 828:
_Mon. dell’ Inst._ v. 25. But the character of the vase is archaic
Ionian, as Prof. Gardner tells me; _Lex._ 2275.
Footnote 829:
H. Peter, _Fragmenta Hist. Rom._ p. 166 (= Solinus, i. 7).
Footnote 830:
_C. I. L._ xiv. 3555; _Lex._ 2278.
Footnote 831:
Robertson Smith, op. cit. pp. 228 foll., and additional note F.
Footnote 832:
The day of the festival at Aricia is thought to have been also Aug. 13
(_Lex._ s. v. Diana, 1006).
Footnote 833:
Beloch, _Italischer Bund_, 180; Cato (ap. Priscian, 7. 337, ed.
Jordan, p. 41) gives the names of the towns united in and by the
Arician cult—Aricia, Tusculum, Lanuvium, Laurentum, Cora, Tibur,
Pometia, Ardea.
Footnote 834:
Liv. I. 45 Dionys. 4. 26; Varro, _L. L._ 5. 43.
Footnote 835:
Dionys. l. c. See Jordan, _Krit. Beiträge_, 253.
Footnote 836:
So Liv. l. c.: other temples of Diana had deers’ horns, according to
Plutarch, _Q. R._ 4. The cow was Diana’s favourite victim (Marq. 361);
but we cannot be sure that this was not a feature borrowed from the
cult of Artemis (Farnell, _Greek Cults_, ii. 592).
Footnote 837:
The passages from Livy quoted by Steuding (_Lex._ 1008) are hardly to
the point, as the cult is not mentioned in them.
Footnote 838:
Plut. _Q. R._ 100.
Footnote 839:
Serv. _Aen._ 8. 564: cp. Liv. 22. 1, 26. 11.
Footnote 840:
Mannhardt, _A. W. F._ 328 foll.
Footnote 841:
Festus, 343, ‘Servorum dies.’
Footnote 842:
See above, p. 75.
Footnote 843:
Strabo, Bk. 4, p. 180; Farnell, _Greek Cults_, ii. 529 and 592.
Footnote 844:
Liv. 5. 13: Apollo and Latona, Diana and Hercules, Mercurius and
Neptunus.
Footnote 845:
_Lex._ 1007. The excavations at Nemi have produced several votive
offerings in terra cotta of women with children in their arms. Cp.
Ovid, _Fasti_, 3. 269. Plutarch tells us (_Q. R._ 3) that men were
excluded from a shrine of Diana in the Vicus Patricius; but of this
nothing further is known.
Footnote 846:
Plut. _Q. R._ 100; Jevons, _Introduction_, p. lxviii.
Footnote 847:
Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 187.
Footnote 848:
_C. I. L._ vi. 656, 658.
Footnote 849:
Frazer, _G. B._ i. 105: cp. Robertson Smith, _Religion of the
Semites_, p. 128 foll. Serv. _Georg._ 3. 332 ‘Ut omnis quercus Iovi
est consecrata, et omnis _lucus_ Dianae.’ (Hor. _Od._ 1. 21.) The
reclaiming of Diana from the woodland to the homestead is curiously
illustrated by an inscription from Aricia (Wilmanns, _Exempla_, 1767)
in which she is identified with Vesta.
Footnote 850:
Aust, _de Aedibus sacris_, p. 15.
Footnote 851:
5. (4.) 2.
Footnote 852:
_Metaph._ 14. 623 foll.; Preller, i. 451.
Footnote 853:
Varro. _L. L._ 7. 45. A god Pomonus (gen. Puemones) occurs in the
Iguvian ritual (Bücheler, _Umbrica_, 158); who may have been identical
with Vortumnus.
Footnote 854:
Varro, _L. L._ 5. 46.
Footnote 855:
Preller, i. 452, and Jordan’s note.
Footnote 856:
Festus, 217, s. v. persillum. All we know of his duties is that he
‘unguit arma Quirini’; the word for the oil or grease he used was
‘persillum.’ Quirinus had his own flamen, who might be supposed to do
this office for him; hence Marq. (328 note) inferred that the god in
this case was a form of Janus, Janus Quirinus. But there is no other
sound evidence for a Janus Quirinus, though Janus and Portunus may be
closely connected.
Footnote 857:
_L. L._ 6. 19.
Footnote 858:
_C. I. L._ 325. He thinks that the _atria Tiberina_ mentioned by Ovid
(_Fasti_, 4. 329) were a station on the route of the procession.
Footnote 859:
Mommsen has not convinced other scholars, e. g. Jordan on Preller, ii.
133, and Marq. 328, who points out that if Volturnus is an old name
for the Tiber, that river-god was already provided with a flamen
(Volturnalis), and a festival in this month (see below on
Volturnalia). I am disposed to think that Mommsen’s critics have the
best of the argument.
Footnote 860:
On _Aen._ 5. 241.
Footnote 861:
_Röm. Jahr_, p. 250. Jordan restored the passage thus: ‘Quo apud
veteres aedes in portu et feriae institutae’ (Preller, i. 178 note).
Footnote 862:
See Marquardt, _Privatalterthümer_, p. 226.
Footnote 863:
Paulus, 56.
Footnote 864:
In Festus, 233, _portus_ is said to have been used for a house in the
Twelve Tables.
Footnote 865:
_Topogr._ i. 430; Marq. agrees (327 note).
Footnote 866:
Preller, i. 177.
Footnote 867:
It was a late foundation, vowed by C. Duilius in the First Punic War
(B.C. 260). When rebuilt by Tiberius (Tac. _Ann._ 2. 49) the
dedication-day became Oct. 18. See Aust, _de Aedibus sacris_, p. 18.
Footnote 868:
See above on April 23, p. 85.
Footnote 869:
Livy, 10. 31; Aust, _de Aedibus sacris_, p. 12.
Footnote 870:
See above, p. 86.
Footnote 871:
Paulus, 264.
Footnote 872:
Preller, i. 196; Marq. 333 note.
Footnote 873:
Varro, _L. L._ 6. 16 ‘Vinalia a vino; Hic dies Iovis, non Veneris;
huius rei cura non levis in Latio; nam aliquot locis vindemiae primum
a sacerdotibus publicae fiebant, ut Romae etiam nunc; nam flamen
Dialis auspicatur vindemiam, et ut iussit vinum legere, agna Iovi
facit, inter quoius exta caesa et porrecta flamen primus vinum legit.’
But this note, coming between others on the Cerialia and Robigalia,
clearly refers to April 23, and the latter part of it must be taken as
simply explaining ‘huius rei cura non levis’ without reference to a
particular day.
Footnote 874:
See above, p. 110.
Footnote 875:
p. 264.
Footnote 876:
_L. L._ 6. 20. The passage in 6. 16, quoted above, ends thus: ‘In
Tusculanis hortis (sortis in MS.) est scriptum: Vinum novum ne vehatur
in urbem antequam Vinalia calentur,’ which may refer to a notice put
up in the vineyards. Another reading is ‘sacris.’
Footnote 877:
_C. I. L._ 316 and 326; Varro, _R. R._ 1. 65.
Footnote 878:
Cf. Pliny, _N. H._ 18. 284. ‘Tria namque tempora fructibus metuebant,
propter quod instituerunt ferias diesque festos, Robigalia, Floralia,
Vinalia.’ I do not see why the Vinalia here should not be the Vinalia
Rustica. Cp. Virg. _Georg._ 2. 419 ‘Et iam maturis metuendus Iuppiter
uvis.’ Hartmann, _Röm. Kal._ 137 foll.
Footnote 879:
Vol. ii. 379.
Footnote 880:
B.C. 272 (Festus, 209; Aust, p. 14).
Footnote 881:
For this altar, Tertull. _Spect._ 5 and 8; Dionys. 1. 33; Tac. _Ann._
12. 24; Serv. _Aen._ 8. 636.
Footnote 882:
No correction of this word seems satisfactory: see Mommsen, _C. I. L._
326.
Footnote 883:
Wissowa, _Lex._ s. v. Consus, 926.
Footnote 884:
Suggested by Mommsen, _C. I. L._ 326, and accepted by Wissowa.
Unluckily Columella (r. 6), in alluding to the practice, says nothing
of its occurrence in Italy. The alternative explanation was suggested
to me by Robertson Smith (_Religion of the Semites_, 107): see also a
note in Müller-Deecke, _Etrusker_, ii. 100; and below on Terminalia
(p. 325).
Footnote 885:
The underground altar of Dis Pater in the Campus Martius, at which the
ludi saeculares were in part celebrated (Zosimus, 2. 1), may have had
a like origin.
Footnote 886:
_Qu. Rom._ 40: cf. Dionys. 1. 33.
Footnote 887:
Fast. Praen.; _C. I. L._ 237.
Footnote 888:
2. 31, where he says that they were kept up in his own day: cf.
Strabo, Bk. 5.3. 2.
Footnote 889:
p. 148.
Footnote 890:
Friedländer in Marq. 482. For the connexion of games with harvest see
Mannhardt. _Myth. Forsch._ 172 foll.
Footnote 891:
Varro (ap. Non. p. 13) quotes an old verse which seems to the point
here: ‘Sibi pastores ludo faciunt coriis consualia.’
Footnote 892:
Varro, _L. L._ 6. 20; Serv. _Aen._ 8. 636; Dionys. 2. 31; Cic. _Rep._
2. 12.
Footnote 893:
See above, p. 178.
Footnote 894:
Vol. ii. 171 foll., 372 foll.
Footnote 895:
_de Spect._ 8.
Footnote 896:
See above, p. 89; Ovid, _Fasti_, 4. 908.
Footnote 897:
Festus, p. 210, s. v. piscatorii ludi (Varro, _L. L._ 6 20). The
latter uses the word ‘animalia,’ and does not mention fish. The fish
were apparently sacrificed at the domestic hearth; but it is doubtful
whether Volcanus was ever a deity of the hearth-fire (see Schwegler,
_R. G._ i. 714; Wissowa, _de Feriis_, xlv).
Footnote 898:
See below, p. 309; Ovid, _Fasti_, 2. 571 foll.
Footnote 899:
See above on May 23, p. 123; Varro, _L. L._ 5. 84; Macrob. 1. 12. 18;
_C. I. L._ vi. 1628.
Footnote 900:
ii. 149.
Footnote 901:
In the mutilated note in Fast. Praen. given above. For Wissowa’s views
as to the mistake of supposing Volcanus to have been a god of smiths,
see above, p. 123 (May 23).
Footnote 902:
Ennius, _Fragm._ 5. 477; Virg. _Aen._ 5. 662.
Footnote 903:
_C. I. L._ vi. 826.
Footnote 904:
Liv. 24. 10. 9.
Footnote 905:
Vitruv. 1. 7. 1.
Footnote 906:
_Roman Questions_, xviii.
Footnote 907:
_de Aedibus sacris_, p. 47 foll.
Footnote 908:
What this was we do not really know: there were several of them
(Preller, ii. 150).
Footnote 909:
Fest. 154, from Ateius Capito; Macrob. 1. 16. 17.
Footnote 910:
Plut. _Rom._ 11; Ovid, _Fasti_, 4. 821. Plutarch wrongly describes it
as being in the Comitium.
Footnote 911:
This seems to be meant by Cato’s words quoted by Festus, l. c. ‘Mundo
nomen impositum est ab eo mundo quod supra nos est ... eius inferiorem
partem veluti consecratam dis Manibus clausam omni tempore nisi his
diebus (i. e. the three above mentioned) maiores c[ensuerunt
habendam], quos dies etiam religiosos judicaverunt.’
Footnote 912:
Fest. 128. So Varro, ap. Macrob. 1. 16. 18 ‘Mundus cum patet, deorum
tristium atque inferum ianua patet.’ _Lex._ s. v. Dis Pater, 1184;
Preller, ii. 68.
Footnote 913:
Müller-Deecke, _Etrusker_, ii. 100. Plutarch is explicit: ἀπαρχαί τε
πάντων, ὅσοις νόμῳ μὲν ὡς καλοῖς ἐχρῶντο, φύσει δὲ ὡς ἀναγκαίοις,
ἀπετέθησαν ἐνταῦθα. See above on the Consualia for the practice of
burying grain, &c.
Footnote 914:
Macrob. 1. 16. 17. For similar ideas in Greece see A. Mommsen,
_Heortologie_, 345 foll.
Footnote 915:
_de Feriis_, vi.
Footnote 916:
Varro, _L. L._ 6. 21; Festus, 187.
Footnote 917:
Varro, _L. L._. 5. 57 and 64; Festus, 186; Macrob. 1. 10. 19. So
Preller, ii. 20. The keen-sighted Ambrosch had, I think, a doubt about
it (_Studien_, 149), and about the conjugal tie generally among
Italian deities. See his note on p. 149.
Footnote 918:
Gell. 13. 23. Ops Toitesia (if the reading be right) of the Esquiline
vase (Jordan in Preller, ii. 22) may be a combination of this kind
(toitesia, conn. tutus?): cf. Ops opifera.
Footnote 919:
Wissowa himself goes so far as to say that male and female divinities
were joined together ‘non per iustum matrimonium sed ex officiorum
adfinitate,’ op. cit. vi.
Footnote 920:
Op. cit. vii.; Mommsen, _C. I. L._ 327 declines to follow him here.
Footnote 921:
_L. L._ 6. 20. The MSS. read Ope Consiva; so Mommsen in _C. I. L._
327. Wissowa adopts the other form.
Footnote 922:
See Mommsen, l. c., and Marquardt, 212.
Footnote 923:
See on Vestalia above, p. 147, and Marq. 251.
Footnote 924:
Colum. 12 4. Cited in De Marchi, _Il Culto privato di Roma Antica_
(Milan, 1896), p. 56. See my paper in _Classical Review_ for Oct.
1896: vol. x. p. 317 foll.
Footnote 925:
_C. I. L._ 327.
Footnote 926:
Preller, ii. 142.
Footnote 927:
_Aen._ 8. 330.
Footnote 928:
In Preller, ii. 143. In the passage of Lucretius Volturnus is coupled
with Auster: ‘Inde aliae tempestates ventique secuntur, Altitonam
Volturnus et Auster fulmine pollens.’ Columella (11. 2. 65) says that
some people use the name for the east wind (cp. Liv. 22. 43).
Footnote 929:
_Röm. Jahr_, 251.
MENSIS SEPTEMBER.
The Calendar of this month is almost a blank. Only the Kalends, Nones and Ides are marked in the large letters with which we have become familiar; no other festival is here associated with a special deity. But the greater part of the month is occupied with the ludi Romani (5th to 19th)[930], and the 13th (Ides), as we know from two Calendars, was not only, like all Ides, sacred to Jupiter, but was distinguished as the day of the famous ‘epulum Jovis,’ and also as the _dies natalis_ of the great Capitoline temple.
The explanation of the absence of great festivals in this month is comparatively simple. September was for the Italian farmer, and therefore for the primitive Roman agricultural community, a period of comparative rest from urgent labour and from religious duties; for no operations were then going on which called for the invocation of special deities to favour and protect. A glance at the rustic calendars will show this well enough[931]. The _messes_ which figure in July and August have come to an end, and the vintage does not appear until October. There is of course work to be done, as always, but it is the easy work of the garden and orchard. ‘Dolia picantur: poma legunt: arborum oblaqueatio.’ Varro, who divides the year for agricultural purposes into eight irregular periods, has little to say of the fifth of these, i. e. that which preceded the autumn equinox. ‘Quinto intervallo inter caniculam et aequinoctium autumnale oportet stramenta desecari, et acervos construi, aratro offringi, frondem caedi, prata irrigua iterum secari[932].’
This was also the time when military work would be coming to an end. In early times there were of course no lengthy campaigns; and such fighting as there was, the object of which would be to destroy your enemies’ crops and harvest, would as a rule be over in August. Even in later times, when campaigns were longer, the same would usually be the case; and the performance of vows made by the generals in the field, and also their vacation of office, would naturally fall in this month. We find, in fact, that the ludi which occupied so large a number of September days, had their origin in the performance of the _vota_ of kings or consuls after the close of the wars[933]; and we have evidence that the Ides of September was the day on which the earliest consuls laid down their office[934]. There was, in fact, every opportunity for a lengthened time of ease; the people were at leisure and in good temper after harvest and victory; even the horses which took part in the games were home from war service or resting from their labours on the farm[935].
It is not strictly within the scope of this work to describe the ludi Romani, which in their fully organized form were of comparatively late date; but their close connexion with the cult of Jupiter affords an opportunity for some remarks on that most imposing of all the Roman worships.
The ludi Romani came in course of time, as has been said above, to extend from the 5th to the 19th; they spread out in fact on each side of the Ides[936], the day on which took place the ‘epulum Jovis’ in the Capitoline temple. As this day was also the _dies natalis_ of the same temple, and that on which the nail was driven into the wall of the cella Jovis[937], we have a very close connexion between the ludi and the cult of Jupiter. The link is to be found in the fact that in the _ludi votivi_, which were developed into ludi Romani, the vows were made and paid to the supreme god of the State[938]. We have from a later time the formula of such a vow preserved by Livy[939]. ‘Si duellum quod cum rege Antiocho sumi populus iussit id ex sententia senatus populique Romani confectum erit, tum tibi, Iuppiter, populus Romanus ludos magnos dies decem continuos faciet, donaque ad omnia pulvinaria dabuntur de pecunia, quantam senatus decreverit: quisquis magistratus eos ludos quando ubique faxit, hi ludi recte facti donaque data recte sunto.’
The epulum Jovis, thus occurring in the middle of the ludi, is believed by some writers to have originally belonged to the Ides of November and to the ludi plebeii, as it does not happen to be alluded to by Livy in connexion with the ludi Romani, and our first notice of it in September is in the Augustan calendars[940]. But it is surely earlier than B.C. 230, the received date of the ludi plebeii, and of the circus Flaminius in which they took place. We may agree with the latest investigator of the Jupiter-cult that the origin of the epulum is to be looked for in a form of thanksgiving to Jupiter for the preservation of the state from the perils of the war season, and that no better day could be found for it than the foundation-day of the Capitoline temple[941]. This epulum was one of the most singular and striking scenes in Roman public life. It began with a sacrifice; the victim is not mentioned, but was no doubt a heifer, and probably a white one[942]. Then took place the epulum proper[943], which the three deities of the Capitol seem to have shared in visible form with the magistrates and senate. The images of the gods were decked out as for a feast, and the face of Jupiter painted red with _minium_, like that of the triumphator. Jupiter had a couch, and Juno and Minerva each a sella, and the meal went on in their presence[944].
Now an investigator of the Roman religious system is here confronted with a difficult problem. Was this simply a Greek practice like that of the lectisternium, and one which began with the Etruscan dynasty and the foundation of the Capitoline temple with its triad of deities? Or is it possible that in the cult of the Roman Jupiter there was of old a common feast of some kind, shared by gods and worshippers, on which this gorgeous ritual was eventually grafted?
Marquardt has gone so far as to separate the epulum Jovis altogether from the lectisternia, and apparently also from the inundation of Greek influence[945]. It answers rather, he says, to such domestic rites as the offering to Jupiter Dapalis described thus by Cato in the _De Re Rustica_[946]: ‘Dapem hoc modo fieri oportet. Iovi dapali culignam vini quantum vis polluceto. Eo die feriae bubus et bubulcis, et qui dapem facient. Cum pollucere oportebit, sic facies. Iupiter dapalis, quod tibi fieri oportet, in domo familia mea culignam vini dapi, eius rei ergo macte hac illace dape pollucenda esto. Manus interluito. Postea vinum sumito. Iupiter dapalis, macte istace dape pollucenda esto. Macte vino inferio esto. Vestae, si voles, dato[947]. Daps Iovi assaria pecuina, urna vini lovis caste.’
I confess that I do not see wherein lies the point of the comparison of this passage with the ceremony of the epulum; and Marquardt himself does not attempt to elaborate it. There is no mention here of a visible presence of Jupiter in the form of an image, which is the one striking feature of the epulum. Marquardt, as it seems to me, might better have adduced some example from old Italian usage of the _belief_ that the gods were spiritually present at a common religious meal—a belief on which might easily be engrafted the practice of presenting them there in actual iconic form. Ovid, for example, writes thus of the cult of the Sabine Vacuna[948]:
Ante focos olim scamnis considere longis
Mos erat, _et mensae credere adesse deos_.
Nunc quoque cum fiunt antiquae sacra Vacunae,
Ante Vacunales stantque sedentque focos.
Or again in the sacra of the curiae, if Dionysius reports them rightly[949], we find a clear case of a common meal in which the gods took part. He tells us that he saw tables in the ‘sacred houses’ of the curiae spread for the gods with simple food in very primitive earthenware dishes. He does not mention the presence of any images of the gods, but it is probable from his interesting description that each curia partook with its gods of a common meal of a religious character, and one not likely to have come under Greek influence[950].
This last example may suggest a hypothesis which is at least not likely to do any serious harm. Let it be remembered that each curia was a constituent part of the whole Roman community. We might naturally expect to find a common religious meal of the same kind in which the _whole_ state took part through its magistrates and senate. This is just what we do find in the epulum Jovis, though the character of its ceremonial is different; and it is certainly possible that this epulum had its origin in a feast like that which Dionysius saw, but one which afterwards underwent vital changes at the hands of the Etruscan dynasty of Roman kings. I am strongly inclined to believe that it was under the influence of these kings that the meal came to take place on the Capitol, and in the temple of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, which they intended to be the new centre of the Roman dominion[951]; and to them also I would ascribe the presence at the feast of the three deities in iconic form. It may be that before that critical era in Roman history the epulum took place not on the Capitol but in the Regia, which with the temple of Vesta hard by formed the oldest centre of the united Rome; and that the presence of Jupiter[952] or any other god was there a matter of belief, like that of Vacuna with the Sabines, and not of the actual evidence of eyesight.
But this conjecture is a somewhat bold one; and it seems worth while to take this opportunity of examining more closely into the cult of Jupiter, with the object of determining whether the great god was apt, in any part of Italy but Etruria, to lend himself easily to anthropomorphic ideas and practices[953].
The cult of Jupiter is found throughout Italy under several forms of the same name, with or without the suffix -piter = pater, which, so far as we can guess, points to a conception of the god as protector, if not originator, of a stock. This paternal title, which was applied to other deities also, does not necessarily imply an early advance beyond the ‘daemonistic’ conception of divine beings; it rather suggests that some one such being had been brought into peculiarly close relations with a particular stock, and does no more than indicate a possibility of further individual development in the future[954]. The ‘father’ in this case has no wife, though we find the word ‘mater’ applied to goddesses[955]; Juno is undoubtedly the female principle, but she is not, as has so often been imagined, the wife of Jupiter. The attempt to prove this by arguing from the Flamen Dialis and his wife the Flaminica cannot succeed: the former was the priest of Jupiter, but his wife was not the priestess of Juno[956]. There is indeed a certain mysterious dualism of male and female among the old Italian divinities, as we know from the _locus classicus_ in Gellius (_N. A._ 13. 23. 2); but we are not entitled to say that the relation was a conjugal one[957].
Before we proceed to examine traces of the oldest Jupiter in Rome and Latium let us see what survivals are to be found in other parts of Italy.
In Umbria we find Jovis holding the first place among the gods of the great inscription of Iguvium, which beyond doubt retains the primitive features of the cult, though it dates probably from the last century B.C., and records rites which indicate a fully developed city-life[958]. His cult-titles here are Grabovius, of which the meaning is still uncertain, and Sancius, which brings him into connexion with the Semo Sancus and Dius Fidius of the Romans. The sacrifices and prayers are elaborately recorded, but there is no trace in the ritual of anything approaching to an anthropomorphic conception of the god, unless it be the apparent mention of a temple[959]. No image is mentioned, and there is no sign of a common meal. The titles of the deities too have the common old-Italian fluidity, i. e. the same title belongs to more than one deity[960]. Everything points to a stage of religious thought in which the personality of gods had no distinct place. The centre-point of the cult seems to be a hill, the _ocris fisius_, within the town of Iguvium, which reminds us of the habits of the Greek Zeus and the physical or elemental character—unanthropomorphized—which seems to belong to that earlier stage in his worship[961].
It is on a hill also that we find the cult among the Sabellians. An inscription from Rapino in the land of the Marrucini tells us of a festal procession in honour of ‘Iovia Ioves patres ocris Tarincris,’ i. e. Jovia (Juno?) belonging to the Jupiter of the hill Tarincris[962].
Among the Oscan peoples the cult-title _Lucetius_ is the most striking fact. Servius[963] says: ‘Sane lingua Osca Lucetius est Iuppiter dictus a luce quam praestare hominibus dicitur.’ The same title is found in the hymn of the Roman Salii[964], and is evidently connected with _lux_; Jupiter being beyond doubt the giver of light, whether that of sun or moon. So Macrobius[965]: ‘Nam cum Iovem accipiamus lucis auctorem, unde et Lucetium Salii in carminibus canunt et Cretenses Δία τὴν ἡμέραν vocant, ipsi quoque Romani Diespitrem appellant ut diei patrem. Iure hic dies Iovis fiducia vocatur, cuius lux non finitur cum solis occasu, sed splendorem diei et noctem continuat inlustrante luna,’ &c. The Ides of all months, i. e. the days of full moon, were sacred to Jupiter. But in all ceremonies known to us in which the god appears in this capacity of his, there is, as we might expect, no trace whatever of a personal or anthropomorphic conception.
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The Roman Festivals of the Period of the RepublicChapter X: Part 10
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