above all others, the father, dead ten years before, of whom,
remembering but a tall, grave figure above him in early childhood,
Marius habitually thought as a genius a little cold and severe.

Candidus insuetum miratur limen Olympi,
Sub pedibusque videt nubes et sidera.--

Perhaps!--but certainly needs his altar here below, and garlands to-
day upon his urn. But the dead genii were satisfied with little--a
few violets, a cake dipped in wine, or a morsel of honeycomb. Daily,
from the time when his childish footsteps were still uncertain, had
Marius taken them their portion of the family meal, at the second
course, amidst the silence [11] of the company. They loved those who
brought them their sustenance; but, deprived of these services, would
be heard wandering through the house, crying sorrowfully in the
stillness of the night.

And those simple gifts, like other objects as trivial--bread, oil,
wine, milk--had regained for him, by their use in such religious
service, that poetic and as it were moral significance, which surely
belongs to all the means of daily life, could we but break through
the veil of our familiarity with things by no means vulgar in
themselves. A hymn followed, while the whole assembly stood with
veiled faces. The fire rose up readily from the altars, in clean,
bright flame--a favourable omen, making it a duty to render the mirth
of the evening complete. Old wine was poured out freely for the
servants at supper in the great kitchen, where they had worked in the
imperfect light through the long evenings of winter. The young
Marius himself took but a very sober part in the noisy feasting. A
devout, regretful after-taste of what had been really beautiful in