166 THE CITY. BOOK III. family was really the same being or the same concep- tion as the Jupiter of another, which they could never beheve of two Lares, two ancestors, or two sacred 6 res. Let ns add, that the morality of this new religion was diflferent. It was not confined to teaching men family duties. Jui)iter was the god of hospitality ; in his name came strangers, suppliants, "the venerable poor," those who were to be treated "as brothers," All these gods often assumed the human form, and appeared among mortals ; sometimes, indeed, to assist in their struggles and to take part in theii combats ; often, also, to enjoin concord, and to teach tht;m to help each other. As this second religion continued to develop, socie- ty must have enlarged. Now, it is quite evident that this religion, feeble at firut, afterwards assumed large proportions. In the beginning it was, so to speak, shel- tered under the protection of its elder sister, near the domestic hearth. There the god had obtained a small place, a narrow cella, near aud opposite to the^-enerated altar, in order that a little of the respect which men had for the sacred fire might be shared by him.' Little by little, the god, gaining more authority over the soul, renounced this sortof guardianship, and left the domes- tic hearth. He had a dwelling of his own, and his own sacrifices. This dwelling (» a6.-, from jm/w, to inhabit) was, moreover, built after the fashion of the ancient sanctuary; it was, as before, a cella opposite a hearth; but the cella was enlarged and embellished, and became a temple. The holy fire remained at the entrance of the god's house, but appeared very small by the side of this house. What had at first been the principal, had nov become only an accessory. It ceased to be a god, and descended to the rank of the god's altar, an in-
