providing them necessary food; and then praised him for the good
examples they had been favoured with. From these melancholy rites were
banished all licentiousness and levity, and while other customs changed,
these continued the same. They roasted the flesh of the victim they had
offered, and eat it in common, discoursing on the virtues of him they
came to lament.

All other feasts were distinguished by names suitable to the ceremonies
that attended them. These funeral meetings were simply called the manes,
that is, the assembly. Thus the manes and the dead were words that
became synonimous. In these meetings, they imagined that they renewed
their alliance with the deceased, who, they supposed, had still a regard
for the concerns of their country and family, and who, as affectionate
spirits, could do no less than inform them of whatever was necessary for
them to know. Thus, the funerals of the dead were at last converted into
methods of divination, and an innocent institution of one of the
grossest pieces of folly and superstition. But they did not stop here;
they became so extravagantly credulous, as to believe that the phantom
drank the libations that had been poured forth, while the relations were
feasting on the rest of the sacrifice round the pit: and from hence they
became apprehensive lest the rest of the dead should promiscuously
throng about this spot to get a share of the repast they were supposed
to be so fond of, and leave nothing for the dear spirit for whom the
feast was intended. They then made two pits or ditches, into one of
which they put wine, honey, water, and flour, to employ the generality
of the dead; and in the other they poured the blood of the victim; when
sitting down on the brink, they kept off, by the sight of their swords,
the crowd of dead who had no concern in their affairs, while they called
him by name, whom they had a mind to cheer and consult, and desired him
to draw near.[9]