and he is always represented
with wings on his cap and sandals; but as the wind not only makes music,
but blows things away unawares, so Mercury came to be viewed not only as
the god of fair speech, but as a terrible thief, and the god of thieves.
You see, as long as these Greek stories are parables, they are grand and
beautiful; but when the beings are looked on as like men, they are absurd
and often horrid. The gods had another messenger, Iris, the rainbow, who
always carried messages of mercy, a recollection of the bow in the
clouds; but she chiefly belonged to Juno.

All the twelve greater gods had palaces on Olympus, and met every day in
Jupiter's hall to feast on ambrosia, a sort of food of life which made
them immortal. Their drink was nectar, which was poured into their
golden cups at first by Vulcan, but he stumbled and hobbled so with his
lame leg that they chose instead the fresh and graceful Hebe, the goddess
of youth, till she was careless, and one day fell down, cup and nectar
and all. The gods thought they must find another cupbearer, and, looking
down, they saw a beautiful youth named Ganymede watching his flocks upon
Mount Ida. So they sent Jupiter's eagle down to fly away with him and
bring him up to Olympus. They gave him some ambrosia to make him
immortal, and established him as their cupbearer. Besides this, the gods
were thought to feed on the smoke and smell of the sacrifices people
offered up to them on earth, and always to help those who offered them
most sacrifices of animals and incense.

The usual names of these twelve were--Jupiter, Neptune, Juno, Latona,
Apollo, Diana, Pallas, Venus, Vulcan, Mercury, Vesta, and Ceres; but
there were multitudes besides--"gods many and lords many" of all sorts of
different dignities. Every river had its god, every mountain and wood
was full of nymphs, and there was a great god of all nature called Pan,
which in Greek means All. Neptune was only a visitor in Olympus, though
he had a right there. His kingdom was the sea, which he ruled with his
trident, and where he had a whole world of lesser gods and nymphs,
tritons and sea horses, to attend upon his chariot.

And the quietest and best of all the goddesses was Vesta, the goddess of
the household hearth--of home, that is to say. There are no stories to
be told about her, but a fire was always kept burning in her honour in
each city, and no one might tend it who was not good and pure.