Whatever the Lemuria may have been, it is certain that the Parentalia were not days of terror or ill-omen; but rather days on which the performance of duty was the leading idea in men’s minds. Nor was the duty an unpleasant one. There was a general holiday: the dead to be propitiated had been duly buried in the family tomb in the great necropolis, had been well cared for since their departure, and were still members of the family. There was nothing to fear from them, so long as the living members performed their duties towards them under the supervision of the State and its Pontifices[1372]. They had their _iura_, and the relations between them and their living relations were all regulated by a _ius sacrum_: they lived on in their city outside the walls of the city of the living[1373], each family in their own dwelling: they did not interfere with the comfort of the living, or in any way show themselves hostile or spiteful. Such ideas as these are of course the result of a well developed city life; experience has taught the citizen how his conduct towards the Di Manes can best be regulated and organized for the benefit of both parties. The Parentalia belong to a later stage of development than the Lemuria, though both have the same original basis of thought. The Parentalia was practically a yearly renewal of the rite of burial. As _sacra privata _they took place on the anniversary of the death of a deceased member of the family, and it was a special charge on the heir that he should keep up their observance[1374]. On that day the family would go in procession to the grave, not only to see that all was well with him who abode there, but to present him with offerings of water, wine, milk, honey, oil, and the blood of black victims[1375]: to deck the tomb with flowers[1376], to utter once more the solemn greeting and farewell (Salve, sancte parens), to partake of a meal with the dead, and to petition them for good fortune and all things needful. This last point comes out clearly in Virgil’s picture: Poscamus ventos, atque haec me sacra quotannis Urbe velit posita templis sibi ferre dicatis. The true meaning of these lines is, as Henry quaintly puts it[1377], ‘Let us try if we cannot kill two birds with one stone, and not only pay my sire the honours due to him, but at the same time help ourselves forward on our journey by getting him to give us fair winds for our voyage.’ As we have seen, the dies parentales began on the 13th; from that day till the 21st all temples were closed, marriages were forbidden, and magistrates appeared without their insignia[1378]. On the 22nd was the family festival of the _Caristia_, or _cara cognatio_: the date of its origin is unknown, but Ovid[1379] writes of it as well established in his time, and it may be very much older. He describes it as a reunion of the living members of the family after they have paid their duties to the dead: