Let us remark, in the first place, that this fire, which was kept burning upon the
hearth, was not, in the thoughts of men, the fire of material nature. What they saw in
it was not the purely physical element that warms and burns, that transforms bodies,
melts metals, and becomes the powerful instrument of human industry. The fire of
the hearth is of quite another nature. It is a pure fire, which can be produced only by
the aid of certain rites, and can be kept up only with certain kinds of wood. It is a
chaste fire; the union of the sexes must be removed far from its presence. 48 They pray
to it not only for riches and health, but also for purity of heart, temperance, and
wisdom. “Render us rich and flourishing,” says an Orphic hymn; “make us also wise
and chaste.” Thus the hearth-fire is a sort of a moral being; it shines, and warms, and
cooks the sacred food; but at the same time it thinks, and has a conscience; it knows
men's duties, and sees that they are fulfilled. One might call it human, for it has the
double nature of man; physically, it blazes up, it moves, it lives, it procures
abundance, it prepares the repast, it nourishes the body; morally, it has sentiments
and affections, it gives man purity, it enjoins the beautiful and the good, it nourishes
23
the soul. One might say that it supports human life in the double series of its
manifestations. It is at the same time the source of wealth, of health, of virtue. It is
truly the god of human nature. Later, when this worship had been assigned to a
second place by Brahma or by Zeus, there still remained in the hearth-fire whatever
of divine was most accessible to man. It became his mediator with the gods of
physical nature; it undertook to carry to heaven the prayer and the offering of man,
and to bring the divine favors back to him. Still later, when they made the great Vesta
of this myth of the sacred fire, Vesta was the virgin goddess. She represented in the
world neither fecundity nor power; she was order, but not rigorous, abstract,
mathematical order, the imperious and unchangeable law, , which was early
perceived in physical nature. She was moral order. They imagined her as a sort of
universal soul, which regulated the different movements of worlds, as the human soul
keeps order in the human system.
Thus are we permitted to look into the way of thinking of primitive generations.
The principle of this worship is outside of physical nature, and is found in this little
mysterious world, this microcosm — man.
This brings us back to the worship of the dead. Both are of the same antiquity. They
were so closely associated that the belief of the ancients made but one religion of
both. Hearthfire demons, heroes, Lares, all were confounded. 49 We see, from two
passages of Plautus and Columella, that, in the common language, they said,
indifferently, hearth or domestic Lares; and we know that, in Cicero's time, they did
not distinguish the hearth-fire from the Penates, nor the Penates from the Lares. 50 In
Servius we read, “By hearth the ancients understood the Lares;” and Virgil has
written, indifferently, hearth for Penates and Penates for hearth. 51 In a famous passage
of the Æneid, Hector tells Aeneas that he is going to intrust to him the Trojan
Penates, and it is the hearth-fire that he commits to his care. In another passage
Æneas, invoking these same gods, calls them at the same time Penates, Lares, and
Vesta. 52
We have already seen that those whom the ancients called Lares, or heroes, were
no other than the souls of the dead, to which men attributed a superhuman and divine
power. The recollection of one of these sacred dead was always attached to the
hearth-fire. In adoring one, the worshipper could not forget the other. They were
associated in the respect of men, and in their prayers. The descendants, when they
spoke of the hearth-fire, recalled the name of the ancestor: “Leave this place,” says
Orestes to his sister, “and advance towards the ancient hearth of Pelops, to bear my
words.” 53 So, too, Ameas, speaking of the sacred fire which he transports across the
waters, designates it by the name of the Lar of Assaracus, as if he saw in this fire the
soul of his ancestor.
[...]
Every family had its ceremonies, which were peculiar to itself, its particular celebrations, its formulas of prayer, its
hymns. 68 The father, sole interpreter and sole priest of his religion, alone had the right
to teach it, and could teach it only to his son. The rites, the forms of prayer, the
chants, which formed an essential part of this domestic religion, were a patrimony,
a sacred property, which the family shared with no one, and which they were even
forbidden to reveal to strangers. It was the same in India. “I am strong against my
enemies,” says the Brahmin, “from the songs which I receive from my family, and
which my father has transmitted to me.” 69
[...]
The members of the ancient family were united by something more powerful than
birth, affection, or physical strength; this was the religion of the sacred fire, and of
dead ancestors. This caused the family to form a single body, both in this life and in
the next. The ancient family was a religious rather than a natural association; and we
shall see presently that the wife was counted in the family only after the sacred
ceremony of marriage had initiated her into the worship; that the son was no longer
counted in it when he had renounced the worship, or had been emancipated; that, on
the other hand, an adopted son was counted a real son, because, though he had not
the ties of blood, he had something better — a community of worship; that the heir
who refused to adopt the worship of this family had no right to the succession; and,
finally, that relationship and the right of inheritance were governed not by birth, but
by the rights of participation in the worship, such as religion had established them.
Religion, it is true, did not create the family; but certainly it gave the family its rules;
and hence it comes that the constitution of the ancient family was so different from
what it would have been if it had owed its foundation to natural affection.
The ancient Greek language has a very significant word to designate a family. It is
, a word which signifies, literally, that which is near a hearth. A family was
a group of persons whom religion permitted to invoke the same sacred fire, and to
offer the funeral repast to the same ancestors.
[...]
When a son was adopted, it was necessary, first of all, that he should be initiated
into a form of worship, “introduced into a domestic religion, brought into the
presence of new Penates.” 107 Adoption, therefore, was accompanied by a ceremony
very like that which took place at the birth of a son. In this way the new comer was
admitted to the hearth, and associated in the new religion. Gods, sacred objects, rites,
prayers, all became common between him and his adopted father. They said of him,
In sacra transiit — He has passed to the worship of the new family. 108Numa Denis Fustel de Coulanges, The Ancient City, 43
By this very ceremony he renounced the worship of the old one 109 We have seen,
indeed, that according to this ancient belief, the same man could not sacrifice at two
hearths, or honor two series of ancestors. Admitted to a new house, the old became
foreign to him.
[...]
Chapter V: Kinship. What the Romans Called Agnation.
Plato says that kinship is the community of the same domestic gods. 113 When
Demosthenes wishes to prove that two men are relatives, he shows that they practice
the same religious rites, and offer the funeral repast at the same tomb. Indeed, it was
the domestic religion that constituted relationship. Two men could call themselves
relatives when they had the same gods, the same sacred fire, and the same funeral
repast.
[...]
The foundation of relationship was not birth; it was worship.
[...]
The tie of blood does not suffice to establish this
relationship; a common worship is necessary.
[...]
There came a time, indeed, for India and Greece, as well as for Rome, when
relationship of worship was no longer the only kind admitted. By degrees, as this old
religion lost its hold, the voice of blood spoke louder, and the relationship of birth
was recognized in law.