But in however high repute these colleges were, and important and comprehensive as were the functions assigned to them, it was never forgotten—­least of all in the case of those which held the highest position—­that their duty was not to command, but to tender skilled advice, not directly to obtain the answer of the gods, but to explain the answer when obtained to the inquirer.  Thus the highest of the priests was not merely inferior in rank to the king, but might not even give advice to him unasked.  It was the province of the king to determine whether and when he would take an observation of birds; the “bird-seer” simply stood beside him and interpreted to him, when necessary, the language of the messengers of heaven.  In like manner the Fetialis and the Pontifex could not interfere in matters of international or common law except when those concerned therewith desired it.  The Romans, notwithstanding all their zeal for religion, adhered with unbending strictness to the principle that the priest ought to remain completely powerless in the state and—­excluded from all command—­ ought like any other burgess to render obedience to the humblest magistrate.

Character of the -Cultus-

The Latin worship was grounded essentially on man’s enjoyment of earthly pleasures, and only in a subordinate degree on his fear of the wild forces of nature; it consisted pre-eminently therefore in expressions of joy, in lays and songs, in games and dances, and above all in banquets.  In Italy, as everywhere among agricultural tribes whose ordinary food consists of vegetables, the slaughter of cattle was at once a household feast and an act of worship:  a pig was the most acceptable offering to the gods, just because it was the usual roast for a feast.  But all extravagance of expense as well as all excess of rejoicing was inconsistent with the solid character of the Romans.  Frugality in relation to the gods was one of the most prominent traits of the primitive Latin worship; and the free play of imagination was repressed with iron severity by the moral self-discipline which the nation maintained.  In consequence the Latins remained strangers to the excesses which grow out of unrestrained indulgence.  At the very core of the Latin religion there lay that profound moral impulse which leads men to bring earthly guilt and earthly punishment into relation with the world of the gods, and to view the former as a crime against the gods, and the latter as its expiation.  The execution of the criminal condemned to death was as much an expiatory sacrifice offered to the divinity as was the killing of an enemy in just war; the thief who by night stole the fruits of the field paid the penalty to Ceres on the gallows just as the enemy paid it to mother earth and the good spirits on the field of battle.  The profound and fearful idea of substitution also meets us here:  when the gods of the community were angry and nobody could be laid hold of as definitely guilty, they might be appeased