The Ancient City.
Book III Chapter 7.
THE RELIGION OF THE CITY 4.
Religion in the Assembly, in the Senate, in the Tribunal, in the Army, in the Triumph
There was not a single act of public life in which the
gods were not seen to take a part.
As he was under the influence of the idea that they were by
turns excellent protectors or cruel enemies, man never dared
to act without being sure that they were favorable), The people assembled only on such days as
religion permitted.
They remembered that the city had suffered a disaster on a certain day; this was, doubtless,
because on that day the gods had been either absent
or irritated; they would probably be in the same mood
at the same season every year, for reasons unknown to
mortals.
This day, therefore, was forever unlucky; there were no assemblies, no courts; public
life was suspended.
At Rome, before an assembly proceeded to business, the augurs were required to declare that the
gods were propitious.
The assembly commenced with a prayer, which the augur pronounced, and which the
consul repeated after him.
There was the same custom among the Athenians.
The assembly always commenced by a religious act.
Priests offered a sacrifice; a large circle was then traced
by pouring lustral water upon the ground, and within
this sacred circle the citizens assembled.
Before any orator began to speak, a prayer was pronounced
before the silent people.
The auspices were also consulted, and if any unfavorable sign appeared in the
heavens, the assembly broke up at once.
The tribune, or speaker's stand, was a sacred place,
and the orator never ascended it without a crown upon
his head.
The place of assembly of the Roman senate was
always a temple.
If a session had been held elsewhere than in a sacred place, its acts would have been
null and void; for the gods would not have been present.
Before every deliberation, the president offered a
sacrifice and pronounced a prayer.
In the hall there was an altar, where every senator, on entering,
offered a libation, at the same time invoking the
gods.
The Athenian senate was little different.
The hall also contained an altar and a sacred fire.
A religious ceremony was observed at the opening of each
session.
Every senator, on entering, approached the altar, and
pronounced a prayer.
While the session lasted, every senator wore a crown upon his head, as in
religious ceremonies.
At Rome, as well as at Athens, courts of justice were
open in the city only on such days as religion pronounced favorable.
At Athens the session of the court was held near an altar, and commenced with
a sacrifice.
In Homer's time the judges assembled “in a holy circle.”
Festus says, that in the rituals of the Etruscans were
directions as to the founding of a city, the consecration of a temple, the arrangement
of curies and tribes in a public assembly, and the ranging of an
army in order of battle.
All these things were marked in the ritual, because all these things were connected
with religion.
In war, religion was as influential, at least, as in
peace.
In the Italian cities there were colleges of
priests, called fetiales, who presided, like the heralds
among the Greeks, at all the sacred ceremonies to which
international relations gave rise.
A fetialis, veiled, and with a crown upon Ids head, declared war
by pronouncing a sacramental formula.
At the same time, the consul, in priestly robes, offered a sacrifice,
and solemnly opened the temple of the most venerated
and most ancient divinity of Italy.
Before setting out on an expedition, the army being assembled, the
general repeated prayers and offered a sacrifice.
The custom was the same at Athens and at Sparta.
During a campaign the army presented the image of the city; its religion followed it.
The Greeks took with them the statues of their divinities.
Every Greek or Roman army carried with it a hearth, on
which the sacred fire was kept up night and day.
A Roman army was accompanied by augurs and pullarii
(feeders of the sacred chickens): every Greek army
had a diviner.
Let us examine a Roman army at the moment when
it is preparing for battle.
The consul orders a victim to be brought, and strikes it with the axe;
it falls: its entrails will indicate the will of the gods.
An aruspex examines them, and if the signs are favorable,
the consul gives the signal for battle.
The most skilful dispositions, the most favorable circumstances, are of no
account if the gods do not permit the battle.
The fundamental principle of the military art
among the Romans was to be able to put off a battle
when the gods were opposed to it.
It was for this reason that they made a sort of citadel of their camp
every day.
Let us now examine a Greek army, and we will take
for example the battle of Plataea.
The Spartans are drawn up in line; each one has his post for
battle.
They all have crowns upon their heads, and the flute-players sound the religious hymns.
The king, a little in rear of the ranks, slaughters the victims.
But the entrails do not give the favorable signs,
and the sacrifice must be repeated.
Two, three, four victims are successively immolated.
During this time the Persian cavalry approach, shoot their arrows, and
kill quite a number of Spartans, The Spartans remain immovable,
their shields placed at their feet, without even
putting themselves on the defensive against the arrows
of the enemy.
They await the signal of the gods.
At last the victims offer the favorable signs; then the
Spartans raise their shields, seize their swords, move
on to battle, and are victorious.
After every victory they offer a sacrifice; and this
is the origin of the triumph, which is so well known
among the Romans, and which was not less common among the Greeks.
This custom was a consequence of the opinion which attributed the victory
to the gods of the city.
Before the battle the army had addressed a prayer to them, like the one we read in
Aeschylus: “To you, O gods, who inhabit and possess
our land, if our arms are fortunate, and if our city is
saved, I promise to sprinkle your altars with the blood
of sheep, to sacrifice bulls to you, and to hang up
in your holy temples the trophies conquered by the spear.”
By virtue of this promise, the victor owed a
sacrifice.
The army entered the city to offer it, and repaired
to the temple, forming a long procession, and singing
a sacred hymn — θριαμβος.
At Rome the ceremony was very nearly the same.
The army marched in procession to the principal temple of the city.
The priests walked at the head of the cortege, leading victims.
On reaching the temple, the general sacrificed the victims to the gods.
On their way the soldiers all wore crowns, as was becoming
in a sacred ceremony, and sung a hymn, as in
Greece.
There came a time, indeed, when the soldiers did not
scruple to replace the hymn, which they did not understand, by barrack songs and raillery
at their general; but they still preserved the custom of repeating
the refrain: Io triumphe.
Indeed, it was this refrain which gave the name to the ceremony.
Thus, in time of peace, as in war time, religion intervened in all acts.
It was everywhere present, it enveloped man.
The soul, the body, private life, public life, meals, festivals, assemblies, tribunals,
battles, all were under the empire of this city religion.
It regulated all the acts of man, disposed of every instant of
his life, fixed all bis habits.
It governed a human being with an authority so absolute that there
was nothing beyond its control.
One would have a very false idea of human nature
to believe that this ancient religion was an imposture,
and, so to speak, a comedy.
Montesquieu pretends that the Romans adopted a worship only to
restrain the people.
A religion never had such an origin; and every religion that has come to sustain itself
only from motives of public utility, has not stood long.
Montesquieu has also said that the Romans subjected religion to the state.
The contrary is true.
It is impossible to read many pages of Livy without being convinced of this.
Neither the Romans nor the Greeks knew anything of those sad conflicts between
church and state which have been so common in other
societies.
But this is due solely to the fact that at Rome as well as
at Sparta and Athens, the state was enslaved by its
religion; or, rather, the state and religion were so completely confounded, that it was
impossible even to distinguish the one from the other, to say nothing of forming an idea
of a conflict between the two.