Hades - Lord of the Underworld and The Fredo of The Olympians

ZEUS

Fredo -- ah, 

He's got a Good Heart -- 

But He's Weak, and He's Stupid, 

and 

This is Life and Death. 

******

ZEUS

I've always taken care of you Fredo.

HADES

Taken care of me. You're my kid brother and you take care of me.

Did you ever think about that -- did you ever once think about that? 

Send Fredo off to do this -- send Fredo off to do that! 

Let Fredo to take care of some Mickey Mouse night club somewhere! 

Send Fredo to pick somebody up at the airport! 

I'm your older brother Mike and I was stepped over!

ZEUS

That's the way Pop wanted it.

HADES

It ain't the way I wanted it! 

I can handle things, I'm smart 

-- not like everyone says --

 not dumb, smart and I want respect!

ZEUS

Fredo - you're nothing to me now.

You're not a brother, you're not a friend,

 I don't want to know you or what you do -- 

I don't want to see you at the hotels -- 

I don't want you near my house -- 

when you see our mother I want to know a day in advance, so I won't be there -- 

You understand?

CLASH OF THE GODS (Hades) History Channel from pulse3tv.com on Vimeo.

Thousands of years ago, Myths were used to help frame the world of the ancients, and dictate the guidelines of their societies. Today, they are often the first stories we learn as children, iconic tales in which good and evil clash, and humanity and fantasy collide. But what is the reality behind these stories? 

From the epic tragedy of Medusa, Greek mythology's most infamous femme fatale, to Hercules, its greatest action hero, and Hades, master of the land of the dead and a god so feared no one would speak his name, explore these myths and the legendary figures who inspired them in CLASH OF THE GODS. Each episode connects ancient myths to actual historical events, as well as to events in the Bible and other cultures mythologies, gaining important historical insight from renowned scholars in search of the truth behind the legends.

(ll. 306-332) Men say that Typhaon the terrible, outrageous and lawless, was joined in love to her, the maid with glancing eyes. So she conceived and brought forth fierce offspring; first she bare Orthus the hound of Geryones, and then again she bare a second, a monster not to be overcome and that may not be described, Cerberus who eats raw flesh, the brazen-voiced hound of Hades, fifty-headed, relentless and strong. And again she bore a third, the evil-minded Hydra of Lerna, whom the goddess, white-armed Hera nourished, being angry beyond measure with the mighty Heracles. And her Heracles, the son of Zeus, of the house of Amphitryon, together with warlike Iolaus, destroyed with the unpitying sword through the plans of Athene the spoil-driver. She was the mother of Chimaera who breathed raging fire, a creature fearful, great, swift-footed and strong, who had three heads, one of a grim-eyed lion; in her hinderpart, a dragon; and in her middle, a goat, breathing forth a fearful blast of blazing fire. Her did Pegasus and noble Bellerophon slay; but Echidna was subject in love to Orthus and brought forth the deadly Sphinx which destroyed the Cadmeans, and the Nemean lion, which Hera, the good wife of Zeus, brought up and made to haunt the hills of Nemea, a plague to men. There he preyed upon the tribes of her own people and had power over Tretus of Nemea and Apesas: yet the strength of stout Heracles overcame him.

(ll. 453-491) But Rhea was subject in love to Cronos and bare splendid children, Hestia (18), Demeter, and gold-shod Hera and strong Hades, pitiless in heart, who dwells under the earth, and the loud-crashing Earth-Shaker, and wise Zeus, father of gods and men, by whose thunder the wide earth is shaken.

(ll. 644-653) `Hear me, bright children of Earth and Heaven, that I may say what my heart within me bids. A long while now have we, who are sprung from Cronos and the Titan gods, fought with each other every day to get victory and to prevail. But do you show your great might and unconquerable strength, and face the Titans in bitter strife; for remember our friendly kindness, and from what sufferings you are come back to the light from your cruel bondage under misty gloom through our counsels.'

(ll. 654-663) So he said. And blameless Cottus answered him again: `Divine one, you speak that which we know well: nay, even of ourselves we know that your wisdom and understanding is exceeding, and that you became a defender of the deathless ones from chill doom. And through your devising we are come back again from the murky gloom and from our merciless bonds, enjoying what we looked not for, O lord, son of Cronos. And so now with fixed purpose and deliberate counsel we will aid your power in dreadful strife and will fight against the Titans in hard battle.'

(ll. 664-686) So he said: and the gods, givers of good things, applauded when they heard his word, and their spirit longed for war even more than before, and they all, both male and female, stirred up hated battle that day, the Titan gods, and all that were born of Cronos together with those dread, mighty ones of overwhelming strength whom Zeus brought up to the light from Erebus beneath the earth. An hundred arms sprang from the shoulders of all alike, and each had fifty heads growing upon his shoulders upon stout limbs. These, then, stood against the Titans in grim strife, holding huge rocks in their strong hands. And on the other part the Titans eagerly strengthened their ranks, and both sides at one time showed the work of their hands and their might. The boundless sea rang terribly around, and the earth crashed loudly: wide Heaven was shaken and groaned, and high Olympus reeled from its foundation under the charge of the undying gods, and a heavy quaking reached dim Tartarus and the deep sound of their feet in the fearful onset and of their hard missiles. So, then, they launched their grievous shafts upon one another, and the cry of both armies as they shouted reached to starry heaven; and they met together with a great battle-cry.

(ll. 687-712) Then Zeus no longer held back his might; but straight his heart was filled with fury and he showed forth all his strength. From Heaven and from Olympus he came forthwith, hurling his lightning: the bold flew thick and fast from his strong hand together with thunder and lightning, whirling an awesome flame. The life-giving earth crashed around in burning, and the vast wood crackled loud with fire all about. All the land seethed, and Ocean's streams and the unfruitful sea. The hot vapour lapped round the earthborn Titans: flame unspeakable rose to the bright upper air: the flashing glare of the thunder- stone and lightning blinded their eyes for all that there were strong. Astounding heat seized Chaos: and to see with eyes and to hear the sound with ears it seemed even as if Earth and wide Heaven above came together; for such a mighty crash would have arisen if Earth were being hurled to ruin, and Heaven from on high were hurling her down; so great a crash was there while the gods were meeting together in strife. Also the winds brought rumbling earthquake and duststorm, thunder and lightning and the lurid thunderbolt, which are the shafts of great Zeus, and carried the clangour and the warcry into the midst of the two hosts. An horrible uproar of terrible strife arose: mighty deeds were shown and the battle inclined. But until then, they kept at one another and fought continually in cruel war.

(ll. 713-735) And amongst the foremost Cottus and Briareos and Gyes insatiate for war raised fierce fighting: three hundred rocks, one upon another, they launched from their strong hands and overshadowed the Titans with their missiles, and buried them beneath the wide-pathed earth, and bound them in bitter chains when they had conquered them by their strength for all their great spirit, as far beneath the earth to Tartarus. For a brazen anvil falling down from heaven nine nights and days would reach the earth upon the tenth: and again, a brazen anvil falling from earth nine nights and days would reach Tartarus upon the tenth. Round it runs a fence of bronze, and night spreads in triple line all about it like a neck-circlet, while above grow the roots of the earth and unfruitful sea. There by the counsel of Zeus who drives the clouds the Titan gods are hidden under misty gloom, in a dank place where are the ends of the huge earth. And they may not go out; for Poseidon fixed gates of bronze upon it, and a wall runs all round it on every side. There Gyes and Cottus and great-souled Obriareus live, trusty warders of Zeus who holds the aegis.

(ll. 736-744) And there, all in their order, are the sources and ends of gloomy earth and misty Tartarus and the unfruitful sea and starry heaven, loathsome and dank, which even the gods abhor.

It is a great gulf, and if once a man were within the gates, he would not reach the floor until a whole year had reached its end, but cruel blast upon blast would carry him this way and that. And this marvel is awful even to the deathless gods.

(ll. 744-757) There stands the awful home of murky Night wrapped in dark clouds. In front of it the son of Iapetus (22) stands immovably upholding the wide heaven upon his head and unwearying hands, where Night and Day draw near and greet one another as they pass the great threshold of bronze: and while the one is about to go down into the house, the other comes out at the door.

And the house never holds them both within; but always one is without the house passing over the earth, while the other stays at home and waits until the time for her journeying come; and the one holds all-seeing light for them on earth, but the other holds in her arms Sleep the brother of Death, even evil Night, wrapped in a vaporous cloud.

(ll. 758-766) And there the children of dark Night have their dwellings, Sleep and Death, awful gods. The glowing Sun never looks upon them with his beams, neither as he goes up into heaven, nor as he comes down from heaven. And the former of them roams peacefully over the earth and the sea's broad back and is kindly to men; but the other has a heart of iron, and his spirit within him is pitiless as bronze: whomsoever of men he has once seized he holds fast: and he is hateful even to the deathless gods.

(ll. 767-774) There, in front, stand the echoing halls of the god of the lower-world, strong Hades, and of awful Persephone. A fearful hound guards the house in front, pitiless, and he has a cruel trick. On those who go in he fawns with his tail and both is ears, but suffers them not to go out back again, but keeps watch and devours whomsoever he catches going out of the gates of strong Hades and awful Persephone.

(ll. 775-806) And there dwells the goddess loathed by the deathless gods, terrible Styx, eldest daughter of back-flowing (23) Ocean. She lives apart from the gods in her glorious house vaulted over with great rocks and propped up to heaven all round with silver pillars. Rarely does the daughter of Thaumas, swift- footed Iris, come to her with a message over the sea's wide back.

But when strife and quarrel arise among the deathless gods, and when any of them who live in the house of Olympus lies, then Zeus sends Iris to bring in a golden jug the great oath of the gods from far away, the famous cold water which trickles down from a high and beetling rock. Far under the wide-pathed earth a branch of Oceanus flows through the dark night out of the holy stream, and a tenth part of his water is allotted to her. With nine silver-swirling streams he winds about the earth and the sea's wide back, and then falls into the main (24); but the tenth flows out from a rock, a sore trouble to the gods. For whoever of the deathless gods that hold the peaks of snowy Olympus pours a libation of her water is forsworn, lies breathless until a full year is completed, and never comes near to taste ambrosia and nectar, but lies spiritless and voiceless on a strewn bed: and a heavy trance overshadows him. But when he has spent a long year in his sickness, another penance and an harder follows after the first. For nine years he is cut off from the eternal gods and never joins their councils of their feasts, nine full years. But in the tenth year he comes again to join the assemblies of the deathless gods who live in the house of Olympus. Such an oath, then, did the gods appoint the eternal and primaeval water of Styx to be: and it spouts through a rugged place.

(ll. 807-819) And there, all in their order, are the sources and ends of the dark earth and misty Tartarus and the unfruitful sea and starry heaven, loathsome and dank, which even the gods abhor.

And there are shining gates and an immoveable threshold of bronze having unending roots and it is grown of itself (25). And beyond, away from all the gods, live the Titans, beyond gloomy Chaos. But the glorious allies of loud-crashing Zeus have their dwelling upon Ocean's foundations, even Cottus and Gyes; but Briareos, being goodly, the deep-roaring Earth-Shaker made his son-in-law, giving him Cymopolea his daughter to wed.

(ll. 820-868) But when Zeus had driven the Titans from heaven, huge Earth bare her youngest child Typhoeus of the love of Tartarus, by the aid of golden Aphrodite. Strength was with his hands in all that he did and the feet of the strong god were untiring. From his shoulders grew an hundred heads of a snake, a fearful dragon, with dark, flickering tongues, and from under the brows of his eyes in his marvellous heads flashed fire, and fire burned from his heads as he glared. And there were voices in all his dreadful heads which uttered every kind of sound unspeakable; for at one time they made sounds such that the gods understood, but at another, the noise of a bull bellowing aloud in proud ungovernable fury; and at another, the sound of a lion, relentless of heart; and at anothers, sounds like whelps, wonderful to hear; and again, at another, he would hiss, so that the high mountains re-echoed. And truly a thing past help would have happened on that day, and he would have come to reign over mortals and immortals, had not the father of men and gods been quick to perceive it. But he thundered hard and mightily: and the earth around resounded terribly and the wide heaven above, and the sea and Ocean's streams and the nether parts of the earth. Great Olympus reeled beneath the divine feet of the king as he arose and earth groaned thereat. And through the two of them heat took hold on the dark-blue sea, through the thunder and lightning, and through the fire from the monster, and the scorching winds and blazing thunderbolt. The whole earth seethed, and sky and sea: and the long waves raged along the beaches round and about, at the rush of the deathless gods: and there arose an endless shaking. Hades trembled where he rules over the dead below, and the Titans under Tartarus who live with Cronos, because of the unending clamour and the fearful strife. So when Zeus had raised up his might and seized his arms, thunder and lightning and lurid thunderbolt, he leaped form Olympus and struck him, and burned all the marvellous heads of the monster about him. But when Zeus had conquered him and lashed him with strokes, Typhoeus was hurled down, a maimed wreck, so that the huge earth groaned. And flame shot forth from the thunder- stricken lord in the dim rugged glens of the mount (26), when he was smitten. A great part of huge earth was scorched by the terrible vapour and melted as tin melts when heated by men's art in channelled (27) crucibles; or as iron, which is hardest of all things, is softened by glowing fire in mountain glens and melts in the divine earth through the strength of Hephaestus (28). Even so, then, the earth melted in the glow of the blazing fire. And in the bitterness of his anger Zeus cast him into wide Tartarus.

(ll. 869-880) And from Typhoeus come boisterous winds which blow damply, except Notus and Boreas and clear Zephyr. These are a god-sent kind, and a great blessing to men; but the others blow fitfully upon the seas. Some rush upon the misty sea and work great havoc among men with their evil, raging blasts; for varying with the season they blow, scattering ships and destroying sailors. And men who meet these upon the sea have no help against the mischief. Others again over the boundless, flowering earth spoil the fair fields of men who dwell below, filling them with dust and cruel uproar.

(ll. 881-885) But when the blessed gods had finished their toil, and settled by force their struggle for honours with the Titans, they pressed far-seeing Olympian Zeus to reign and to rule over them, by Earth's prompting. So he divided their dignities amongst them.

Bhakti Yoga

"In Aleister Crowley's work entitled Astarte vel Liber Berylli sub-figura CLXXV, he advocates a form of yoga called Bhakti or love yoga, where one devotes oneself to a particular deity and establishes a loving relationship with it. 

It is originally a Hindu form of yoga, and it is quite interesting from a magickal perspective. The idea is that you form a particular bond with a God, Goddess or Spirit and practice everything in your life in the context of this bond.

I think this form of yoga is particularly appropriate when discussing Hecate, as she has the characteristics and qualities of a Goddess to whom you devote yourself rather than a simple Spirit you evoke for a specific task. 

Although I haven't written about it in this book, I would like to suggest to those interested in Hecate and magick involving the Goddess to research Bhakti yoga also. 

Some of the principles and practices of Bhakti yoga are very complementary to evoking and working with Goddesses in a magickal context, as it seems that devotion and love come very natural to us when encountering these beings. 

After all, Hecate is the Greek Goddess of magick and, therefore, the patroness of all magicians.

vel

Liber BERYLLI

sub figura CLXXV

A.·. A.·.

Publication in Class B.

Imprimatur:

N. Fra A.·. A.·.

0. This is the Book of Uniting Himself to a particular Deity by devotion.

1. Considerations before the Threshold. First concerning the choice of a particular Deity. This matter is of no import, sobeit that thou choose one suited to thine own highest nature. Howsoever, this method is not so suitable for gods austere as Saturn, or intellectual as Thoth. But for such deities as in themselves partake in anywise of love it is a perfect mode. 

1. Concerning the prime method of this Magick Art. Let the devotee consider well that although Christ and Osiris be one, yet the former is to be worshipped with Christian, and the latter with Egyptian rites. And this although the rites themselves are ceremonially equivalent. There should, however, be one symbol declaring the transcending of such limitations; and with regard to the Deity also, there should be some one affirmation of his identity both with all other similar gods of other nations, and with the Supreme of whom all are but partial reflections. 

1. Concerning the chief place of devotion. This is the Heart of the Devotee, and should be symbolically represented by that room or spot which he loves best. And the dearest spot therein shall be the shrine of his temple. It is most convenient if this shrine and altar should be sequestered in woods, or in a private grove, or garden. But let it be protected from the profane. 

1. Concerning the Image of the Deity. Let there be an image of the Deity; first because in meditation there is mindfulness induced thereby; and second because a certain power enters and inhabits it by virtue of the ceremonies; or so it is said, and We deny it not. Let this image be the most beautiful and perfect which the devotee is able to procure; or if he be able to paint or to carve the same, it is all the better. As for Deities with whose nature no Image is compatible, let them be worshipped in an empty shrine. Such are Brahma, and Allah. Also some postcaptivity conceptions of Jehovah. 

1. Further concerning the shrine. Let this shrine be furnished approÿriately as to its ornaments, according to the book 777. With ivy and pine-cones, that is to say, for Bacchus, and let lay before him both grapes and wine. So also for Ceres let there be corn, and cakes; or for Diana moon-wort and pale herbs, and pure water. Further it is well to support the shrine with talismans of the planets, signs and elements appropriate. But these should be made according to the right Ingenium of the Philosophus by the light of the Book 777 during the course of his Devotion. It is also well, nevertheless, if a magick circle with the right signs and names be made beforehand. 

1. Further concerning the ceremonies. Let then this Invocation be the principal part of an ordered ceremony. And in this ceremony let the Philosophus in no wise neglect the service of a menial. Let him sweep and garnish the place, sprinkling it with water or with wine as is appropriate to the particular Deity, and consecrating it with oil, and with such ritual as may seem him best. And let all be done with intensity and minuteness. 

1. Concerning the Incense and Libations. The incense should follow the nature of the particular Deity; as, mastic for Mercury, dittany for Persephone. Also the libations, as, a decoction of nightshade for Melancholia, or of Indian hemp for Uranus. 

1. Concerning the harmony of the ceremonies. Let all these things be rightly considered, and at length, in language of the utmost beauty at the command of the Philosophus, accompanied, if he has skill, by music, and interwoven, if the particular Deity be jocund, with dancing. And all being carefully prepared and rehearsed, let it be practised daily until it be wholly rhythmical with his aspiration, and as it were, a part of his being. 

1. Concerning the variety of the ceremonies. Now, seeing that every man differeth essentially from every other man, albeit in essence he is identical, let also these ceremonies assert their identity by their diversity. For this reason do We leave much herein to the right Ingenium of the Philosophus. 

1. Concerning the life of the devotee. First, let his way of life be such as is pleasing to the particular Deity. Thus to invoke Neptune, let him go a-fishing; but if Hades, let him not approach the water that is hateful to Him. 

1. Further, concerning the life of the devotee. Let him cut away from his life any act, word, or thought, that is hateful to the particular Deity; as, unchastity in the case of Artemis, evasions in the case of Ares. Besides this, he should avoid all harshness or unkindness of any kind in thought, word, or deed, seeing that above the particular Deity is One in whom all is One. Yet also he may deliberately practise cruelties, where the particular Deity manifests His Love in that manner, as in the case of Kali, and of Pan. And therefore, before the beginning of his period of devotion, let him practise according to the rules of Liber Jugorum. 

1. Continuation. Next, concerning his time, if it be short. Let him labour mentally upon his Invocation, concentrating it, and let him perform this Invocation in his heart whenever he hath the leisure. And let him seize eagerly upon every opportunity for this. 

1. Continuation. Third, even if he have leisure and preparation, let him seek ever to bring inward the symbols, so that even in his well ordered shrine the whole ceremony revolve inwardly in his heart, that is to say in the temple of his body, of which the outer temple is but an image. For in the brain is the shrine, and there is no Image therein; and the breath of man is the incense and the libation. 

1. Concerning the Meditations. Herein is the most potent method of attaining unto the End, for him who is thoroughly prepared, being purified by the practice of the Transmutation of deed into devotion, and consecrated by the right performance of the holy ceremonies. Yet herein is danger, for that the Mind is fluid as quicksilver, and bordereth upon the Abyss, and is beset by many sirens and devils that seduce and attack it to destroy it. Therefore let the devotee beware, and precise accurately his meditations, even as a man should build a canal from sea to sea. 

1. Further concerning meditation. Moreover let the Philosophus imagine to himself that he hath indeed succeeded in his devotion, and that his Lord hath appeared to him, and that they converse as may be fitting. 

1. Concerning silence. Now there may come a time in the course of this practice when the outward symbols of devotion cease, when the soul is as it were dumb in the presence of its God. Mark that this is not a cessation, but a transmutation of the barren seed of prayer into the green shoot of yearning. This yearning is spontaneous, and it shall be left to grow, whether it be sweet or bitter. For often times it is as the torment of hell in which the soul burns and writhes unceasingly. Yet it ends, and at its end continue openly thy Method. 

1. Considerations with regard to the use of symbols. It is to be noted that persons of powerful imagination, will, and intelligence have no need of these material symbols. There have been certain saints who are capable of love for an idea as such without it being otherwise than degraded by "idolising" it, to use this word in its true sense. Thus one may be impassioned of beauty, without even the need of so small a concretion of it as "The beauty of Apollo", the "beauty of roses", the "beauty of Attis". Such persons are rare; it may be doubted whether Plato himself attained to any vision of absolute beauty without attaching to it material objects in the first place. A second class is able to contemplate ideals through this veil; a third class need a double veil, and cannot think of the beauty of a rose without a rose before them. For such is this Method of most use; yet let them know that there is this danger therein, that they may mistake the gross body of the symbol for the idea made concrete thereby. 

1. Further concerning Mortifications. If thy body, on which thou ridest, be so disobedient a beast that by no means will he travel in the desired direction, or if thy mind be baulkish and eloquent as Balaam's fabled Ass, then let the practice be abandoned. Let the shrine be covered in sackcloth, and do thou put on habits of lamentation, and abide alone. And do thou return most austerely to the practice of Liber Jugorum, testing thyself by a standard higher than that hitherto accomplished, and punishing effractions with a heavier goad. Nor do thou return to thy devotion until that body and mind are tamed and trained to all manner of peaceable going. 

1. Concerning minor methods adjuvant in the ceremonies. I. Rising on the planes. By this method mayst thou assist the imagination at the time of concluding thine Invocation. Act as taught in Liber O, by the light of Liber 777. 

1. Concerning minor methods adjuvant in the ceremonies. II. Talismanic Magic. Having made by thine Ingenium a talisman or pantacle to represent the particular Deity, and consecrated it with infinite love and care, do thou burn it ceremonially before the shrine, as if thereby giving up the shadow for the substance. But it is useless to do this unless thou do really in thine heart value the talisman beyond all else that thou hast. 

1. Concerning minor methods adjuvant in the ceremonies. III. Rehearsal. It may assist if the traditional history of the particular Deity be rehearsed before him; perhaps this is best done in dramatic form. This method is the main one recommended in the "Exercitios Espirituales" of St Ignatius, whose work may be taken as a model. Let the Philosophus work out the legend of his own particular Deity, and apportioning days to events, live that life in imagination, exercising the five senses in turn, as occasion arises. 

1. Concerning minor matters adjuvant in the ceremonies. IV. Duresse. This method consists in cursing a deity recalcitrant; as, threatening ceremonially "to burn the blood of Osiris, and to grind down his bones to power." This method is altogether contrary to the spirit of love unless the particular Deity be himself savage and relentless; as Jehovah or Kali. In such a case the desire to perform constraint and cursing may be the sign of the assimilation of the spirit of the devotee with that of his God, and so an advance to the Union with HIm. 

1. Concerning a further sacrifice. Of this it shall be understood that nothing is to be spoken; nor need anything be spoken to him that hath wisdom to comprehend the number of the paragraph. And this sacrifice is fatal beyond all, unless it be a sacrifice indeed. Yet there are those who have dared and achieved thereby. 

1. Concerning human affection. During this practice thou shalt in no wise withdraw thyself from human relations, only figuring to thyself that thy father or thy brother or thy wife is as it were an image of thy particular Deity. Thus shall they gain, and not lose, by thy working. Only in the case of thy wife this is difficult, since she is more to thee than all others, and in this case thou mayst act with temperance, lest her personality overcome and destroy that of thy Deity. 

1. Concerning the Holy Guardian Angel. Do thou in no wise confuse this invocation with that. 

1. The Benediction. And so may the love that passeth all Understanding keep your hearts and minds through Iota-Alpha-Omega Alpha-Delta-Omicron-Nu-Alpha-Iota Sigma-Alpha-Beta-Alpha-Omega and through BABALON of the City of the Pyramids, and through Astarte, the Starry One green-girdled, in the name ARARITA. AMN.

1. Concerning the Ceremonies. Let the Philosophus prepare a powerful Invocation of the particular Deity according to his Ingenium. But let it consist of these several parts:
   First, an Imprecation, as of a slave unto his Lord.
   Second, an Oath, as of a vassal to his Liege.
   Third, a Memorial, as of a child to his Parent.
   Fourth, an Orison, as of a Priest unto his God.
   Fifth, a Colloquy, as of a Brother with his Brother.
   Sixth, a Conjuration, as to a Friend with his Friend.
   Seventh, a Madrigal, as of a Lover to his Mistress.
   And mark well that the first should be of awe, the second of fealty, the third of dependence, the fourth of adoration, the fifth of confidence, the sixth of comradeship, the seventh of passion. 

1. Concerning the period of devotion, and the hours thereof. Let a fixed period be set for the worship; and it is said that the least time is nine days by seven, and the greatest seven years by nine. And concerning the hours, let the Ceremony be performed every day thrice, or at least once, and let the sleep of the Philosophus be broken for some purpose of devotion at least once in every night.
   Now to some it may seem best to appoint fixed hours for the ceremony, to others it may seem that the ceremony should be performed as the spirit moves them so to do: for this there is no rule.
2. Concerning the Robes and Instruments. The Wand and Cup are to be chosen for this Art; never the Sword or Dagger, never the Pantacle, unless that Pantacle chance to be of a nature harmonious. But even so it is best to keep the Wand and Cup, and if one must choose, the Cup.
   For the Robes, that of a Philosoÿhus, or that of an Adept Within is most suitable; or, the robe best fitted for the service of the particular Deity, as a bassara for Bacchus, a white robe for Vesta. So also, for Vesta, one might use for instrument the Lamp; or the sickle, for Chronos. 

1. Further concerning the life of the devotee. Now, as many are fully occupied with their affairs, let it be known that this method is adaptable to the necessities of all.
   And We bear witness that this which followeth is the Crux and Quintessence of the whole Method.
   First, if he have no Image, let him take anything soever, and consecrate it as an Image of his God. Likewise with his robes and instruments, his suffumigations and libations: for his Robe hath he not a nightdress; for his instrument a walking stick; for his suffumigation a burning match; for his libation a glass of water?
   But let him consecrate each thing that he useth to the service of that particular Deity, and not profane the same to any other use. 

1. Continuation. Further concerning occupation. Let the devotee transmute within the alembic of his heart every thought, or word, or act into the spiritual gold of his devotion.
   As thus: eating. Let him say: "I eat this food in gratitude to my Deity that hath sent it to me, in order to gain strength for my devotion to Him."
   Or: sleeping. Let him say: "I lie down to sleep, giving thanks for this blessing from my Deity, in order that I may be refreshed for new devotion to Him."
   Or: reading. Let him say: "I read this book that I may study the nature of my Deity, that further knowledge of Him may inspire me with deeper devotion to Him."
   Or: working. Let him say: "I drive my spade into the earth that fresh flowers (fruit, or what not) may spring up to His glory, and that I, purified by toil, may give better devotion to Him."
   Or: whatever it may be that he is doing, let him reason it out in his own mind, drawing it through circumstance and circumstance to that one end and conclusion of the matter. And let him not perform the act until he hath done this.
   As it is written: Liber VII, cap. v. --- 

   22. Every breath, every word, every thought is an

   act of love with thee.

   23. The beat of my heart is the pendulum of love.

   24. The songs of me are the soft sighs:

   25. The thoughts of me are very rapture:

   26. And my deeds are the myriads of Thy Children,

   the stars and the atoms.

   And Remember Well, that if thou wert in truth a lover, all this wouldst thou do of thine own nature without the slightest flaw or failure in the minutest part thereof. 
2. Concerning the Lections. Let the Philosoÿhus read solely in his copies of the holy books of Thelema, during the whole period of his devotion. But if he weary, then let him read books which have no part whatever in love, as for recreation.
   But let him copy out each verse of Thelema which bears upon this matter, and ponder them, and comment thereupon. For therein is a wisdom and a magic too deep to utter in any other wise. 

1. Continuation. Let then the Philosophus meditate upon all love that hath ever stirred him. There is the love of David and of Jonathan, and the love of Abraham and Isaac, and the love of Lear and Cordelia, and the love of Damon and Pythias, and the love of Sappho and Atthis, and the love of Romeo and Juliet, and the love of Dante and Beatrice, and the love of Paolo and Francesca, and the love of Caesar and Lucrezia Borgia, and the love of Aucassin and Nicolette, and the love of Daphnis and Chloe, and the love of Cornelia and Caius Gracchus, and the love of Bacchus and Ariadne, and the love of Cupid and Psyche, and the love of Endymion and Artemis, and the love of Demeter and Persephone, and the love of Venus and Adonis, and the love of Lakshmi and Vishnu, and the love of Siva and Bhavani, and the love of Buddha and Ananda, and the love of Jesus and John, and many more.
   Also there is the love of many saints for their particular deity, as of St. Francis of Assisi for Christ, of Sri Sabhapaty Swami for Maheswara, of Abdullah Haji Shirazi for Allah, of St Ignatius Loyola for Mary, and many more.
   Now do thou take one such story every night, and enact it in thy mind, grasping each identity with infinite care and zest, and do thou figure thyself as one of the lovers and thy Deity as the other. Thus do thou pass through all adventures of love, not omitting one; and to each do thou conclude: How pale a reflection is this of my love for this Deity!
   Yet from each shalt thou draw some knowledge of love, some intimacy with love, that shall aid thee to perfect thy love. Thus learn the humility of love from one, its obedience from another, its intensity from a third, its purity from a fourth, its peace from yet a fifth.
   So then thy love being made perfect, it shall be worthy of that perfect love of His. 

1. Concerning the Mysterious Triangle. Now then as three cords separately may be broken by a child, while those same cords duly twisted may bind a giant, let the Philosophus learn to entwine these three methods of Magic into a Spell.
   To this end let him understand that as they are One, because the end is one, so are they One because the method is One, even the method of turning the mind toward the particular Deity by love in every act.
   And lest thy twine slip, here is a little cord that wrappeth tightly round and round all, even the Mantram or Continuous Prayer. 
2. Concerning the Mantram or Continuous Prayer. Let the Philosophus weave the Name of the Particular Deity into a sentence short and rhythmical, as, for Artemis: epsilon-pi-epsilon-lambda-theta-omicron-nu, epsilon-pi-epsilon-lambda-theta-omicron-nu, Alpha-rho-tau-epsilon-mu-iota-sigma; or, for Shiva: Namo Shivaya namaha Aum; or, for Mary: Ave Maria; or for Pan, chi-alpha-iota-rho-epsilon Sigma-omega-tau-eta-rho kappa-omicron-sigma-mu-omicron-upsilon, Iota-omega Pi-alpha-nu, Iota-omega Pi-alpha-nu; or, for Allah: Hua Allahu alazi lailaha illa Hua.
   Let him repeat this day and night without cessation mechanically in his brain, which is thus made ready for the advent of that Lord, and armed against all other. 
3. Concerning the Active and the Passive. Let the Philosophus change from the active love of his particular Deity to a state of passive waiting, even almost a repulsion, the repulsion not of distaste, but of sublime modesty.
   As it is written, Liber LXV.ii.59. I have called unto Thee, and I have journeyed unto Thee, and it availed me not. 60. I waited patiently, and Thou wast with me from the beginning.
   Then let him change back to the Active, until a veritable rhythm is established between the states, as it were the swinging of a Pendulum. But let him reflect that a vast intelligence is required for this; for he must stand as it were almost without himself to watch those phases of himself, And to do this is a high Art, and pertaineth not altogether to the grade of Philosoÿhus. Neither is it of itself helpful, but rather the reverse, in this especial practice. 

1. Concerning Dryness. Another state wherein at times the soul may fall is this dark night. And this is indeed purifying in such depths that the soul cannot fathom it. It is less like pain than like death. But it is the necessary death that comes before the rising of a body glorified.
   This state must be endured with fortitude; and no means of alleviating it may be employed. It may be broken up by the breaking up of the whole Method, and a return to the world without. This cowardice not only destroys the value of all that has gone before, but destroys the value of the Oath of Fealty that thou hast sworn, and makes thy Will a mockery to men and gods. 
2. Concerning the Deceptions of the Devil. Note well that in this state of dryness a thousand seductions will lure thee away; also a thousand means of breaking thine oath in spirit without breaking it in letter. Against this thou mayst repeat the words of thine oath aloud again and again until the temptation be overcome.
   Also the devil will represent to thee that it were much better for this operation that thou do thus and thus, and seek to affright thee by fears for thy health or thy reason.
   Or he may send against thee visions worse than madness.
   Against all this there is but one remedy, the Discipline of thine Oath. So then thou shalt go through ceremonies meaningless and hideous to thee, and blaspheme shalt thou against thy Deity and curse Him. And this mattereth little, for it is not thou, so be that thou adhere to the Letter of thine Obligation. For thy Spiritual Sight is closed, and to trust it is to be led unto the precipice, and hurled therefrom. 
3. Further of this matter. Now also subtler than all these terrors are the Illusions of Success. For one instant's {WEH NOTE: Magick in Theory and Practice has "But one instant's..."} self-satisfaction or Expansion of thy Spirit, especially in this state of dryness, and thou art lost. For thou mayst attain the False Union with the Demon himself. Beware also of even the pride which rises from having resisted the temptations.
   But so many and so subtle are the wiles of Choronzon that the whole world could not contain their enumeration.
   The answer to one and all is the persistence in the literal fulfilment of the routine. Beware, then, last, of that devil {49} who shall whisper in thine ear that the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life, and answer: Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground, and die, it abideth alone, but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.
   Yet shalt thou also beware of disputation with the devil, and pride in the cleverness of thine answers to him. Therefore, if thou hast not lost the power of silence, let it be first and last employed against him. 
4. Concerning the Enflaming of the Heart. Now learn that thy methods are dry, one and all. Intellectual exercises, moral exercises, they are not Love. Yet as a man, rubbing two dry sticks together for long, suddenly found a spark, so also from time to time will true love leap unasked into thy mediation. Yet this shall die and be reborn again and again. It may be that thou hast no tinder near.
   In the end shall come suddenly a great flame and a devouring, and burn thee utterly.
   Now of these sparks, and of these splutterings of flame, and of these beginnings of the Infinite Fire, thou shalt thus be aware. For the sparks thy heart shall leap up, and thy ceremony or meditation or toil shall seem of a sudden to go of its own will; and for the little flames this shall be increased in volume and intensity; and for the beginnings of the Infinite Fire thy ceremony shall be caught up unto ravishing song, and thy meditation shall be ecstasy, and thy toil shall be a delight exceeding all pleasure thou hast ever known.
   And of the Great Flame that answereth thee it may not be spoken; for therein is the End of this Magick Art of Devotion. 

1. Considerations of further danger to those not purged of material thought. Let it be remembered that in the nature of the love itself is danger. The lust of the satyr for the nymph is indeed of the same nature as the affinity of Quicklime for water on the one hand, and of love of Ab for Ama on the other; so also is the triad Osiris, Isis, Horus like that of a horse, mare, foal, and of red, blue, purple. And this is the foundation of Correspondences.
   But it were false to say "Horus is a foal" or "Horus is purple". One may say: "Horus resembles a foal in this respect, that he is the offspring of two complementary beings". 
2. Further of this matter. So also many have said truly that all is one, and falsely that since earth is That One, and ocean is That One, therefore earth is ocean. Unto Him good is illusion, and evil is illusion; therefore good is evil. By this fallacy of logic are many men destroyed.
   Moreover, there are those who take the image for the God; as who should say, my heart is in Tiphereth, and an Adeptus is in Tiphereth; I am therefore an adept.
   And in this practice the worst danger is this, that the love which is its weapon should fail in one of two ways.
   First, if the love lack any quality of love, so long is it not ideal love. For it is written of the Perfected One: "There is no member of my body which is not the member of some god." Therefore let not the Philosophus despise any form of love, but harmonise all. As it is written: Liber LXV, 32. "So therefore Perfection abideth not in the Pinnacles or in the Foundation, but in the harmony of One with all."
   Second, if any part of this love exceed, there is disease therein. As, in the love of Othello for Desdemona, love's jealousy overcame love's tenderness, so may it be in this love of a particular Deity. And this is more likely, since in this divine love no element may be omitted.
   It is by virtue of this completeness that no human love may in any way attain to more than to foreshadow a little part thereof. 
3. Concerning Mortifications. These are not necessary to this method. On the contrary, they may destroy the concentration, as counter-irritants to, and so alleviations of, the supreme mortification which is the Absence of the Deity invoked.
   Yet as in mortal love arises a distaste for food, or a pleasure in things naturally painful, this perversion should be endured and allowed to take its course. Yet not to the interference with natural bodily health, whereby the instrument of the soul might be impaired.
   And concerning sacrifices for love's sake, they are natural to this Method, and right.
   But concerning voluntary privations and tortures, without use save as against the devotee, they are generally not natural to healthy natures, and wrong. For they are selfish. To scourge one's self serves not one's master; yet to deny one's self bread that one's child may have cake is the act of a true mother. 

1. Concerning the value of this particular form of Union or Samadhi. All Samadhi is defined as the ecstatic union of a subject and object in consciousness, with the result that a third thing arises which partakes in no way of the nature of the two.
   It would seem at first sight that it is of no importance whatever to choose an object of meditation. For example, the Samadhi called Atmadarshana might arise from simple concentration of the thought on an imagined triangle, or on the heart.
   But as the union of two bodies in chemistry may be endothermic or exothermic, the combination of Oxygen with Nitrogen is gentle, while that of Oxygen with Hydrogen is explosive; and as it is found that the most heat is disengaged as a rule by the union of bodies most opposite in character, and that the compound resulting from such is most stable, so it seems reasonable to suggest that the most important and enduring Samadhi results from the contemplation of the Object most pposite to the devotee. [On other planes, it has been suggested that the most opposed types make the best marriages and produce the healthiest children. The greatest pictures and operas are those in which violent extremes are blended, and so generally in every field of activity. Even in mathematics, the greatest parallelogram is formed if the lines composing it are set at right angles. ED.] 
2. Conclusions from the foregoing. It may then be suggested to the Philosophus, that although his work will be harder his reward will be greater if he choose a Deity most remote from his own nature. This method is harder and higher than that of Liber E. For a simple object as there suggested is of the same nature as the commonest things of life, while even the meanest Deity is beyond uninitiated human understanding. On the same plane, too, Venus is nearer to man than Aphrodite, Aphrodite than Isis, Isis than Babalon, Babalon than Nuit.
   Let him decide therefore according to his discretion on the one hand and his aspiration on the other; and let not one outrun his fellow. 
3. Further concerning the value of this Method. Certain objections arise. Firstly, in the nature of all human love is illusion, and a certain blindness. Nor is there any true love below the Veil of the Abyss. For this reason we give this method to the Philosoÿhus, as the reflection of the Exempt Adept, who reflects the Magister Templi and the Magus. Let then the Philosophus attain this Method as a foundation of the higher Methods to be given to him when he attains those higher grades.
   Another objection lies in the partiality of this Method. This is equally a defect characteristic of the Grade. 
4. Concerning a notable danger of Success. It may occur that owing to the tremendous power of the Samadhi, overcoming all other memories as it should and does do, that the mind of the devotee may be obsessed, so that he declare his particular Deity to be sole God and Lord. This error has been the foundation of all dogmatic religions, and so the cause of more misery than all other errors combined.
   The Philosophus is peculiarly liable to this because from the nature of the Method he cannot remain sceptical; he must for the time believe in his particular Deity. But let him (1) consider that this belief is only a weapon in his hands, (2) affirm sufficiently that his Deity is but an emanation or reflection or eidolon of a Being beyond him, as was said in Paragraph 2. For if he fail herein, since man cannot remain permanently in Samadhi, the memorised Image in his mind will be degraded, and replaced by the corresponding Demon, to his utter ruin.
   Therefore, after Success, let him not delight overmuch in his Deity, but rather busy himself with his other work, not permitting that which is but a step to become a goal. As it is written also, Liber CLXXXV.: "remembering that Philosophy is the Equilibrium of him that is in the House of Love." 
5. Concerning the secrecy and the rites of Blood. During this practice it is most wise that the Philosophus utter no word concerning his working, as if it were a Forbidden Love that consumeth him. But let him answer fools according to their folly; for since he cannot conceal his love from his fellows, he must speak to them as they may understand.
   And as many Deities demand sacrifice, one of men, another of cattle, a third of doves, let these sacrifices be replaced by the true sacrifices in thine own heart. Yet if thou must symbolise them outwardly for the hardness of thine heart, let thine own blood, and not another's, be spilt before that altar. [The exceptions to this rule pertain neither to this practice, nor to this grade. N. Fra. A.·. A.·..]
6. 
   
   Nevertheless, forget not that this practice is dangerous, and may cause the manifestation of evil things, hostile and malicious, to thy great hurt. 

1. Concerning yet a further sacrifice. Here it is spoken of actual mutilation. Such acts are abominable; and while they may bring success in this Method, form an absolute bar to all further progress.
   And they are in any case more likely to lead to madness than to Samadhi. He indeed who purposeth them is already mad. 

Mundus Cerialis

Mondas? 

But isn't that one of the ancient names of Earth? 


Apuleius "says, indeed, that the souls of men are demons, and that men become Lares if they are good, Lemures or Larvae if they are bad, and Manes if it is uncertain whether they deserve well or ill... He also states that the blessed are called in Greek εὐδαίμονες [eudaimones], because they are good souls, that is to say, good demons, confirming his opinion that the souls of men are demons."

— St. Augustine, 

City of God, 

Book IX, Chapter 11

"Of this we have a characteristic example in the ceremony of the aquaelicium, designed to produce rain after a long drought. In classical times the ceremony consisted in a procession headed by the pontifices, which bore the sacred rain-stone from its resting-place by the Porta Capena to the Capitol, where offerings were made to the sky-deity, Iuppiter, but from the analogy of other primitive cults and the sacred title of the stone (lapis manalis), it is practically certain that the original ritual was the purely imitative process of pouring water over the stone.

 Cyril Bailey(1907), The Religion of Ancient Rome

Mundus of Ceres

The mundus cerialis (literally "the world" of Ceres or Caereris mundus) was a hemispherical pit or underground vault in Rome. Its location is uncertain.

It was usually sealed by a stone lid known as the lapis manalis.

On August 24, October 5 and November 8, it was opened with the official announcement "mundus patet" ("the mundus is open"), and offerings were made there to agricultural or underworld deities, including Ceres as goddess of the fruitful earth and guardian of its underworld portals. Its opening offered the spirits of the dead temporary leave from the underworld, to roam lawfully among the living, in what Warde Fowler describes as ‘holidays, so to speak, for the ghosts’.

The days when the mundus was open were among the very few occasions that Romans made official contact with the collective spirits of the dead, the Di Manes (the others being Parentalia and Lemuralia). This secondary or late function of the mundus is attested no earlier than the Late Republican Era, by Varro.[36] The jurist Cato understood the mundus' shape as a reflection or inversion of the dome of the upper heavens.[37]

Roman tradition held that the mundus had been dug and sealed by Romulus as part of Rome's foundation; Plutarch compares it to pits dug by Etruscan colonists, containing soil brought from their parent city, used to dedicate the first fruits of the harvest.[38] Warde Fowler speculates the mundus as Rome's first storehouse (penus) for seed-grain, later becoming the symbolic penus of the Roman state.[39] In the oldest known Roman calendar, the days of the mundus are marked as C(omitiales) (days when the Comitia met). Later authors mark them as dies religiosus (when no official meetings could be held). Some modern scholars seek to explain this as the later introduction and accommodation of Greek elements, grafted onto the original mundus rites.[40] The rites of August 24 were held between the agricultural festivals of Consualia and Opiconsivia; those of October 5 followed the Ieiunium Cereris, and those of November 8 took place during the Plebeian Games As a whole, the various days of the mundus suggest rites to Ceres as the guardian deity of seed-corn in the establishment of cities, and in her function as a door-warden of the afterlife, which was co-ruled during the winter months by her daughter Proserpina, queen-companion to Dis.

Lapis Manalis

This is the term for "Stone of the Underworld," or of the dead, a sacred stone that covers the pit of the manes on the Palatine Hill in Rome. During the annual festival of Mania, the Ancestral Moon-mother, the stone was removed and her children the manes or ghosts-of-ancestors were invited to join the feast. Occasionally the festival was called Parentalia, since it was believed the ghosts of the underworld were synonymous with the di parentes or "parent-gods" from past ages.

In Northern Europe similar festivals were held at Halloween or Samhhain (see Sabbats), when ancestral ghosts were invited. A.G.H.



MUNDUS PATET. 
24TH AUGUST, 5TH OCTOBER, 8TH NOVEMBER. 
By W. WARDE FOWLER, M.A. D. Litt.

The mundus of Rome was believed to be a hole or underground pit or vault on the Palatine. It was said to be closed by a stone called the lapis manalis, which same name, oddly enough, is also given to an entirely different kind of stone, with which the pontifices occasionally worked some sort of magic in a drought.1 Plutarch, in the chapter in which he describes the foundation of Rome,2 says that the mundus, like the process of marking out a city, was of Etruscan origin; that firstfruits of all kinds were thrown into the pit, and that each new settler brought a bit of earth from his own country and cast it into the pit; he places the pit in the Comitium instead of the Palatine, but notes the word mundus as applied to it there, and the identity of this word with that for the heaven or universe.

Plutarch says nothing of another notion, namely that on three days in the year, those noted above, the lapis was removed to give egress to the denizens of the underworld. This we learn from Varro, quoted by Macrobius: "mundus cum patet, deorum tristium atque inferum quasi ianua patet."3 So too Ateius Capito quoted by Festus:4 "Mundus ter in anno patere solet, diebus his: postridie Volcanalia (et a.d. III non. Oct.) et ante diem VI id. Nov. Qui quid ita dicatur sic refert Cato in commentariis iuris civilis: Mundo nomen impositum est ab eo mundo qui supra nos est . . . Eius inferiorem partem veluti consecratam dis manibus clausam omni tempore nisi his diebus qui supra scripti sunt maiores (censuerunt habendam), quos dies etiam religiosos iudicauerunt." Here it is necessary to note that the only words of Cato are those in italics:5 there are other words of his following these, to which I shall refer directly, but Cato had nothing to say of the lapis manalis and the ghosts, so far at least as we know: for these ideas Varro is our oldest authority, followed by Ateius Capito in the age of Augustus.

Since I wrote my book on the Roman Festivals I have often wondered why these three days, 24th August, 5th October, 8th  p26 November were selected as holidays, so to speak, for the ghosts. If the old Romans really believed in their return to the upper world on those days, the days must have had some special importance in connexion with ghost-life; but no one, so far as I know, has ever yet discovered what this importance is. The days fixed in the old Calendar of Numa as those on which ghosts would be roaming about in apparent freedom, and on which they might be expelled from the house by the paterfamilias, were 9th, 11th, and 13th May (Lemuria), and the more civilised festival of the dead was in February (Parentalia). Why should three other days be allowed them for freedom in late summer and autumn?

In the book just referred to,6 taking a hint from O. Müller's Etrusker, I suggested that the ghostly function of the mundus was an accretion, perhaps or probably of Graeco-Etruscan origin, on a very simple original fact. The pit might be the penus of the new city, i.e. the underground storing-place for the grain: and thus we can understand why it should be open on a day (24th August) which follows the Consualia, a festival which almost beyond doubt has reference to harvesting, and immediately precedes the Opiconsivia, which almost as certainly represents the storage of the grain as completed.7 "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 (Greek deities) claim the mundus: it is ianua Orci, faux Plutonis, fancies familiar to Romans who had come under the spell of Greek and Etruscan religious beliefs."

Quite lately I have been able to develop this suggestion a little further. I think, unless I am under a delusion, that I can explain not only 24th August, but with some little probability, also 5th October and 8th November as days on which we might expect the mundus to be open, not for the egress of ghosts, but for a very practical purpose of the farmer. I conjecture that it was the place in which was stored, not, or not only, the grain of the last harvest which would be needed for food, and for which the storehouse (penus) would need to be frequently opened in the old farmhouse, but the place of safety in which the seed-cornº was stored. This was a sacred treasure almost more precious than the grain destined immediately for food: and it must be housed securely and hidden most carefully from enemies of all kinds.

The mundus as Cato describes it, though on the Palatine in his day it would be only a symbolic survival from the original storing-place, seems to me strongly to suggest a use for human beings as well as ghosts. "Mundo nomen impositum est ab eo mundo qui  p27 supra nos est: forma enim eius est, ut ex his qui intravere cognoscere potui."8 The mundus then was a place into which a man might descend: we may imagine it as a kind of cellar with an opening in the centre of its roof, which was closed, except on the three days, by a stone, after the fashion of a trap-door. On the top of this there was no doubt a covering of earth, for the sake of concealment, an obvious safeguard which seems to be reflected in the descriptions both of Plutarch and Ovid.9 The poet wrote:

Fossa fit ad solidum. Fruges iaciuntur in ima
et de vicino terra petita solo.
Fossa repletur homo. . . .
But I must now go on to explain my justification for this very matter-of‑fact conjecture.

In August the opening of the mundus took place the day before the Opiconsivia, i.e. the 24th; and in the latter festival it is pretty well agreed that we should see a representation of the completed storage of the corn of the recent harvest. My conjecture is that on the previous day the seed-corn for the autumn sowing was separated from the rest of the grain, and deposited in an underground storing-place, for the security that was absolutely essential for the existence of the community. Varro tells us that in his time the finest ears were separated on the threshing-floor from the rest of the corn, in order that the semen (seed-corn) might be as good as possible.10 As a rule the corn seems to have been threshed as soon as it was brought home from the field: Varro and Columella imply this,11 though they do not state it in so many words; and in primitive times, when your enemy might at any moment make a raid on you, this would be desirable in order to secure the precious treasure as quickly as possible. We know nothing from literary sources of the place of storage, but I venture to think that not only the curious underground altar of Consus, opened at the Consualia on the 21st, but also the opening of the mundus on the 24th, suggest the method that would obviously be the safest, that of concealing the treasure underground.12

It is of course possible that both the grain for food and the seed-corn were deposited in the same place. But apart from the extra security which two storing-places would give to the farmer,  p28 I think that the dates of the other two openings of the mundus may suggest that it was the receptacle of the seed-corn only.

The oldest kind of grain used for food in Italy was that rough kind of wheat called far, which in historical times was used in the city only for religious purposes. But in some districts it was still grown, and Pliny tells us that the sowing went on through the month of October.13 A date as early as the fifth, in the practice of the later people of the city, would suit well enough for the opening of the storing-place for the purpose of taking out the necessarily amount of grain for sowing. But the third of the days of opening, November 8th, bears more remarkable testimony to their original meaning. All readers of Virgil will remember that in his first Georgic (219, ff.) he urges the postponement of the sowing of wheat (triticum) till after the setting of the Pleiads; and in this he is borne out by Columella.14 No doubt Virgil represents the traditional practice of the Italian farmer. Now the apparent or cosmical setting of the Pleiades, i.e. that which alone can have been known to the husbandman throughout early Roman history, seems to have taken place on or about 9th November; different ancient authorities give different days, but all at the beginning of November, and the writer of the article Astronomia in the Dict. of Antiquities fixes the actual day of apparent setting as the 9th.15 That the opening of the mundus should have taken place on the 8th is thus a striking fact, and strongly suggests that the seed-corn of the better wheat crops, as distinct from the more ancient far, was at this time being taken out of the mundus for the November sowing.

Now supposing that our hypothesis is a reasonable one, and that the mundus was originally a receptacle for seed-corn, how are we to account for the accretion on this simple and useful practice of the doctrine of the mundus as faux Plutonis, ostium Orci and so on, and of the liberation of the ghosts when the stone trapdoor was removed?

In the first place, there is no difficulty in attributing a religious character with taboos such as Varro mentions16 to  p29 such receptacles of the means of man's subsistence: that is sufficiently well shown by the sacred character of the store-chamber of the house, which produced in time its own spirits or deities, the Penates: and the underground altar of Consus points in the same direction. Prof. Deubner has lately shown17 that there are two main periods in early Roman religious thought, when deities and a theology are only in the making, if as far advanced as that. To this older stratum belongs the original use of the mundus as I explain it. No deity is here concerned, unless it be the Ops Consiva of the day following that of the opening of the mundus in August, and that deity is plainly no more than the store itself with its religious character beginning to take tangible shape in a worship.

Upon this older stratum of religious ideas there lies what we can only suppose to be a later stratum deposited by another race, in which the idea of existence after death in an underworld was more important than the practical ideas of the pure agriculturist. Such a race was the Etruscan. In a valuable summary of our present knowledge of Mediterranean burial, kindly sent me by the author, Prof. von Duhn, he attributes a somewhat grossly material idea of the dead alike to the oldest population of Italy, and to the Etruscans, both of which races buried their dead and supplied them with such objects as they were supposed to need, in contrast to the true Italic peoples (Sabines excepted) who used cremation, and show signs of being the ancestors of those who developed the orderly, sensible ritual of the Parentalia. The conjecture in my recent volume18 that the notion of an underworld and its horrors was Etruscan, but resting on a substructure of much more primitive belief, is not so wild as I feared at one time that it might be.

Exactly how the new way of looking at the simple old practice came about it is impossible to say; but each of us can make some kind of a guess for himself if he pleases. My own guess is that the primitive storing pit was transferred from the farm or the pagus to the newly founded city, and the three days of opening were retained and fixed; that in due time its original meaning was lost, owing to the city ceasing to be a practical centre of agricultural operations; and that as this cessation happened about the same time as the Etruscan dominion in Rome, the mundus took on a new meaning connected with the Etruscan ideas of a nether world.19 The stone, of which we are told on a single authority that it was called lapis manalis, the same name as that of the stone of Jupiter  p30 Elicius, took on the name of that other stone through a misinterpretation of the word manalis, which was wrongly supposed to mean "belonging to the Manes."20

Now I may reasonably be asked why, if I make so much of the seed-corn and its place of deposit, we do not find more distinct traces of the importance of these among other peoples, Mediterranean or other. My answer is that I do so find them, though they seem to me to have lain unnoticed since Mannhardt developed his theory of the corn-spirit. For the animistic period that theory undoubtedly holds good, and has been confirmed by the immense mass of additional evidence brought together by Dr. Frazer in his Golden Bough, but I have for some time felt that there is a yet more primitive way of looking at the mystery of the renewal of vegetation; and in many of the examples of the familiar forms of the corn-spirit I am inclined to see traces of the sacred character of the seed-corn itself, and of the place in which it was stored. My friend Dr. Frazer has most kindly pointed me out a number of such unindexed examples in the second volume of the Golden Bough (ed. 2), though without expressing definite approval of my views on this subject; but in order to weigh the matter thoroughly, it is advisable to read the whole of chapter iii in that volume, as well as to let the mind dwell on isolated instances.

I think I see signs that the last sheaf of the harvest, which in innumerable instances is treated with reverence or made into human form, may represent the precious seed-corn set aside at the time of threshing. A good example is taken by Dr. Frazer from Mannhardt.21 At Westerhüsen in Saxony the last corn cut is made into the shape of a woman, brought to the threshing-floor, and kept there till the threshing is done.22 Just below on the same page we have an example from Tarnow, Galicia, in which the last corn cut is made into a wreath and called the wheat-mother, etc.  p31 and kept till spring, when some of the grain is mixed with the seed-corn. The last sheaf is often longer and heavier than the rest, and this Dr. Frazer explains (p176) as a charm, working by sympathetic magic, to ensure a large and heavy crop in the following harvest. Is it not rather a survival of the selection of the finest ears to use as seed-corn? For it seems that this last sheaf is often taken from that part of the field where the corn is finest: examples of this practice will be found on p184 (from Kent), on p189 (Scotland), p193 (ancient Peru), a passage to which I will return directly, and p195 (ancient Mexico); p200 (Malay peninsula) and in Sumatra (p198), the best grains of rice are picked out to form the rice-mother, and are sown in the middle of the bed, with the common seed planted round them. When the time comes to transplant the rice from the nursery to the field, the rice-mother receives a special place either in the middle or in a corner of the field, and is planted with a prayer or charm.

Further, this last sheaf of fine grain is sometimes deposited in a special place, and even in an underground cavity or cellar, like the firstfruits which Plutarch tells us were deposited in the Roman mundus, a practice which I take to be the forerunner of those numberless instances in which the last sheaf or some puppet representing it, is kept stuck up on the farmhouse during the winter. The great care taken of the maiden, as this puppet, garland, or sheaf, is so often called, would be a survival of the care originally taken of the precious seed-corn. A good example of storage in a special granary occurs on p193 (G.B. vol. II), from ancient Peru, described by the historian Acosta: a portion of the most fruitful of the maize is thus deposited with religious ceremony. So in G.B. II, 459, a little hollow filled with grain is left on the threshing-floor, according to Frazer (or his informant Casalis), as a thankoffering to the gods. Is this explanation the right one? Again (p194), in Mexico the priests, with the nobles and the people, went in procession to the maize fields, where they picked out the largest and finest sheaf, brought it home, and laid it upon an altar. "After sacrificing to the harvest-god, the priests carefully wrapped it in fine linen and kept it till seed-time. Then it was carried once more to the field from which it had been taken, and deposited in a subterranean chamber, which was closed and covered over with earth. Then followed the sowing, after sacrifice had been made for an abundant harvest; and finally, when the time of harvest drew near, the buried sheaf was solemnly disinterred by the priests, who distributed the grain to all who asked for it." This I take to be an animistic and magical development of the simple practice of storing the seed-corn. One more example: in Java (pp201‑2), two garlands are made of ears of rice, and called the rice-bride and rice-bridegroom, whose wedding is celebrated just before harvest. "Later on, when  p32 the rice is being got in, a bridal chamber is partitioned off in the barn, furnished with a new mat, a lamp, and all kinds of toilet articles. Sheaves of rice, to represent the wedding guests, are placed beside the bride and bridegroom. Not till this has been done may the whole harvest be housed in the barn. And for the first forty days after the rice has been housed, no one may enter the barn, for fear of disturbing the newly-married pair."23 I read this to mean that the sheaves here called wedding guests were really those reserved for seed-corn, only after which reservation the housing of the general harvest could begin.

Lastly, I will just allude to a feature analogous to some of those just noticed, in the ritual of Demeter and Persephone at the Thesmophoria. Miss Harrison has described this and commented on it in her Prolegomena to the study of Greek Religion, chapter iv, translating a valuable passage from the scholiast on Lucian, Dial. Meretr. ii, 1. "At some time not specified" (so she sums up our information), "but during the Thesmophoria, women carefully purified for the purpose let down pigs into clefts or chasms called megara or chambers. At some other time not precisely specified they descended into the megara, brought up the rotten flesh and placed it on certain altars, whence it was taken and mixed with seed to serve as a fertility charm. As the first day of the festival was called Kathodos and Anodos it seems likely that the women went down and came up on the same day." This account is curiously confirmed by a discovery of Sir Charles Newton at Cnidus, quoted by Miss Harrison on p125. There, in the sanctuary of Demeter, he found a crypt which had originally been circular, though later compressed by an earthquake, in which were bones of pigs and other animals, and the marble pigs which now stand near Demeter of Cnidos in the British Museum. This crypt seems to remind us of the mundus, and so perhaps do the megara described by the scholiast.24 We do not know what the mundus contained, though the description of it given by Cato25 strongly suggests that it contained something, or was originally meant to do so. But the crypt at Cnidus, and the megara of Demeter, contained pigs, which in Greece were the special victims of the deities of earth and fertility, and these were used as a charm, mixed with the seed-corn, to obtain good crops. All this belongs, however, to an age of religion and fully developed deities; and I would here  p33 again suggest that behind it there lies the simple custom of storing the seed-corn for safety in a subterranean crypt. The seed and the crypt are both holy, as we might expect, and as we gather from the fact that women alone, and fully purified, were allowed to descend into the crypt and bring up the necessary supply of seed. It is not without interest to note that the Thesmophoria, when this took place, is in autumn (11th Pyanepsion), and presumably about the time of the autumn sowing.

Dr. Farnell's more elaborate and judicious account26 of the Thesmophoria and kindred festivals of Demeter and Persephone has also many points of interest in connexion with my subject, and I think it may be worth suggesting that experts in Greek religious usages should see whether my theory has any bearing on doubtful points. I note with interest his reference to a fragment of Anacreon27 in support of the possibility that one early (and lost) meaning of θεσμός was θησαυρός. Is it remotely possible that the objects carried at that festival, as indicated by its name, were baskets of seed for sowing? Dr. Farnell tells us that Triptolemus was believed to have distributed the seed for this purpose.28 As so many strange explanations of this mysterious word have been suggested,29 I need hardly fear to suggest yet another. Dr. Frazer30 has hazarded the conjecture that the sacra were called θεσμός because they were the things laid down, or as I would add, put into a thesauros. I only go a step further and suggest that these sacra were originally portions of seed-corn: for the Thesmophoria was a late autumn festival and clearly connected with sowing.

In conclusion, all I have been doing in this paper is to turn over a stone to see if there is by any chance anything there. I am not at all sure that there is anything there really worth picking up; the explanation of the three days may lie somewhere else, and I do not forget that the beginning of November is a great time for ghosts in many parts of the world, a fact which is reflected in the Christian calendar. Or there may be some mysterious connexion between firstfruits and seed-corn, and between both of them and the dead, which has not yet been entirely fathomed. I hope I may be allowed to hazard a hypothesis without doing anyone any serious harm.

The Author's Notes:

1 See my Roman Festivals, 132.

❦

2 Romulus, 11.

❦

3 Macrobius I.16.18. He adds evidence that the days were religiosi: an army might not give battle, nor any military operation of importance be performed; nor might a marriage take place.

❦

4 Festus, 154. Paulus, 156, gives the dates, which are mutilated in Festus, 142.

❦

5 See the fragment in H. Jordan's Catonis Libri Deperditi, 84, with his note.

❦

6 P211. Cf. Müller-Deecke, Etrusker, ii, 100.

❦

7 See Wissowa, Relig. und Kultus der Römer, 168 (ed. 2, p203).

❦

8 Potui is Scaliger's emendation for potuit of the codex.

❦

9 Fasti, IV.821; cf. Plutarch, Rom. 11.

❦

10 Varro, R. R. I.52, init. Quae seges grandissima atque optima fuerit, seorsum in aream secerni oportet spicas, ut semen optimum habeat (i.e. the farmer). Cf. Pliny, XVIII.195; Columella, II.9.11; and also Virgil, Georg. I.197, who says that the farmer must pick out the largest by hand, or they will degenerate in the keeping.

❦

11 Varro, R. R. I.50, 51 and the beginning of 52 already quoted. When the corn has been reaped, it must be brought to the area (threshing-floor, which Varro then describes in c51: then, returning to the crop, he urges the separation of the seed-corn from the rest. The same is clearly implied in Columella, II.21.

❦

12 See Mommsen's note in CIL I, ed. 2, p326, followed by Wissowa Rel. und Kult. 167 (ed. 2, p201). As from 5 to 10 modii of various kinds of seed were needed for each iugerum, a fairly roomy receptacle would be necessary.

❦

13 Plin. H. N. XVIII.205: cf. Varro, I.34.

❦

14 "Ante tibi Eoae Atlantides abscondantur, Gnosiaque ardentis decedat stella Coronae, Debita quam sulcis committas semina quamque Invitae properes anni spem credere terrae." Varro, I.34, rather vaguely describes sowing as extending from the equinox to the bruma; but Columella, II.8, quotes and supports Virgil: only in this passage he seems to be thinking of the true morning setting of the Pleiades, i.e. 24th October, though in other places he obviously alludes to the apparent setting. See Dict. of Antiquities, s.v. Astronomia, p227.

❦

15 Dict. of Antiquities, loc. cit. "The true morning setting was at Rome at that epoch on 29th October, the apparent morning setting on 9th November." This date has been confirmed for the time of the Roman kings by Dr. Fotheringham, who most kindly made elaborate calculations for me. He sums them up thus in a letter: "Anyhow, you will see that the date given in the Dict. of Antiquities (9th November) appears to apply excellently to the time of the kings. It does not seem to apply so well to the time of Julius Caesar, to which it was intended (in the dictionary) to refer." In a later letter he wrote: "As the Roman 8th November did not occupy a fixed place in the natural year before the time of Julius Caesar, I presume that a general and not an exact coincidence with the cosmical setting of the Pleiades is all that is required."

❦

16 Macrobius, I.16.18.

❦

17 In Neue Jahrbücher für das klassische Altertum, 1911, p323.

❦

18 The Religious experience of the Roman people, 391, ff.

❦

19 The best account of the word mundus known to me is in Nettleship's Contributions to Latin Lexicography, p528. I have abstained from invoking the aid of etymology; but if Nettleship is right, the word may be developed from a root mu, meaning to enclose, or fence round. In regard to an Etruscan origin of a similar word see Müller-Deecke, Die Etrusker, ii, 100, n65a.

❦

20 cf. Paulus, 128. In case the contrast between the original Latin meaning of the mundus and that here assumed to have been superimposed, should astonish any one, let me refer him to the remarks of Dr. J. B. Carter in Hastings' Dict. of Religion and Ethics, i, 464. He points out that the Romans do not seem to have been much interested in the lower world, and that every bit of description of it comes from writers under Greek influence, and all the details are identical with those of the Greeks. Hence it is probable that the Roman lower world was not mythologically adorned till Greeks (and Etruscans) did it for them. As we have seen, the idea of a stone covering the abode of the dead, the removal of which gave egress to the ghosts, is found only in Festus, 154, and nowhere alluded to in Roman literature. It has been compared to the Dillestein of German mythology (Preller-Jordan, ii, 67), but a perusal of the description of that mysterious stone in Grimm's Deutsche Mythologie, ii, 806 (Engl. trans.) makes it clear to me that there is nothing in common between the two. The Dillestein was a ceiling or grating of the underworld, lying at the bottom of our earth. I may add to this note a few words of Dr. Frazer's, contained in a letter to me: "The ancient explanation of the mundus is perhaps not wholly irreconcileable with your theory. For observe that the spirits of the dead are often supposed to watch over or further the growth of the crops: that is why the firstfruits are often presented to them. For examples see the Golden Bough (ed. 2), ii, 459, seq." On the connexion at Rome between Tellus Mater, the dead, and the crops, see my Religious experience of the Roman people, 121, 138; cf. Dieterich, Mutter Erde cap. iv.

❦

21 Golden Bough, ii, 172.

❦

22 i.e. it is kept separate, as intended for seed-corn. Cf. Mannhardt, Mythologische Forschungen 334, translated in G.B. p181.

❦

23 Does this mean that the first use of the grain for sowing occurred forty days after it was thus deposited? It is curious that the time between the Opiconsivia on 25th August, and the first opening of the mundus on 5th October, is almost exactly forty days, a coincidence which I do not in the least wish to emphasise, but the number forty has often a religious significance.

❦

24 In his Modern Greek Folklore and Ancient Greek Religion, Mr. J. C. Lawson has some interesting remarks about the beehive structures at Mycenae, suggesting that they may have possibly been megara, "temples of Chthonian deities such as Demeter": see p94, ff.

❦

25 Apud Fest. 154.

❦

26 Cults, iii, 105, ff.

❦

27 Bergk, Poet. Lyr. iii, 271.

❦

28 Cults, iii, 184.

❦

29 See e.g. Miss Harrison's Prolegomena, pp137 and 143.

❦


30 See Miss Harrison, op. cit. 137.