Many persons, doubtless, came into the Forum when a Vestal was to be chosen, for the sight of the winsome children must have made a goodly picture indeed, delighting the eye and gladdening the heart. Sometimes it so happened that a father, of his own accord, offered his daughter as a priestess to Vesta, and, if the maiden satisfied all demands, she was at once accepted; but the usual custom was the selection of one from among the twenty little girls. The choice made, the Pontifex Maximus took the hand of the tiny maiden, and spoke to her a few solemn words concerning the grave duties upon which she was to enter, and at the end he gently said, "I take thee, Beloved." And from that moment she was no longer a member of her own family, but belonged to the sacred sisterhood of Vesta, over whom the High Priest watched with a father's protecting care.

After this simple ceremony the new Vestal was led into the Atrium, and there the childish curls were cut off, and the head of the little priestess was bound with a white fillet, or band of ribbon, which was twisted about a lock of wool, symbol of holy office. The locks of her own hair were hung upon a sacred lotus tree that stood in the Grove of Vesta, a garden belonging to the Atrium, and on the slope of the Palatine Hill. All this was done according to an ancient custom, for the cutting off of the hair was a sign of submission—as when the hair of captives was cut off by their conquerors—and now this young maiden belonged to Vesta, to whom she was in all ways to submit herself. Her hair was hung on the lotus tree as a further sign that a change had come into her life, and that she had given herself entirely to the service of the goddess. The little girl was then clothed in the white robe of the Vestal, after which she took a solemn vow to obey Vesta, and to guard faithfully the welfare of Rome. Doubtless the child did not understand the words that her lips uttered, but there was plenty of time to learn their meaning, for the first ten years of the new Vestal's life were spent in gaining the knowledge of her duties and of the form of worship by which the goddess was approached. During the next ten years she practised these duties, and in the last ten she gently taught them to the young priestesses, even as she herself had been carefully instructed. At the end of those thirty years, the Vestal was free to return to her home, to marry, or to lead whatsoever manner of life seemed to her best; but so happy and content were the days spent in Vesta's pure and simple service, that few of her priestesses took advantage of their liberty. They chose the peace and honours of the sisterhood, rather than the trials and of the world. For all was calm and lovely in the home of Vesta's virgins, where the child Vestal was called "Amata," the "Beloved," and where the oldest among them was affectionately revered as the Vestalis Maxima, the greatest or most honourable of the Vestals. It was she whose fillets were the most twisted, for the Vestal's hair was not again cut, and was always bound with the fillets, the number of whose twists marked the degree of dignity to which the priestess had attained.

The first and chief duty of the Vestals was the care of the ever burning fire of the Temple, wherein was no statue of Vesta, but where the bright flame upon the altar alone showed her presence to all faithful worshippers. And when, from want of care, or for any other reason, the sacred fire died out, the hearts of the Romans were sorely troubled; for they believed it to be a sign that the goddess, in displeasure, had deserted them, and that the city was menaced with the greatest danger. Thus Vesta was worshipped as the guardian of Rome's welfare; for was not the city the home of the nation, and her temple the hearth of the entire people? Just outside the Temple, however, there was a beautiful little shrine in which stood the image of Vesta, and here the Virgins offered sacrifices of cakes of salted meal, and poured out libations of oil or wine.

The second duty of the priestesses was the bringing of pure, fresh water for use within the Temple. It was taken from a sacred spring that rose cool and clear, in the depths of green woods just beyond the city's walls. In this shady dell once lived a nymph, named Egeria, whose wisdom was very great; and her story has been told by one of the ancient poets in this wise:—

The special guardian of the bubbling springs and flowing fountains was Egeria, an attendant of Diana, the fair goddess of the Moon. Now Diana's most loved earthly homes were in the shades of deep forests, beside sparkling brooks and lakes; therefore she held Egeria in much affection, and when a heavy grief befell the nymph, the goddess used all her power to bring her comfort. For Egeria had been sought in counsel by Numa, the king, and had taught him many things,—how to soften the hearts of the warlike Romans, how to worship the gods, and how to govern the people. Through all his long reign the wise nymph aided Numa, and her heart also went out to him, so that when he died she wept, inconsolable. Throwing herself at the base of a little hill in her deep grove, she dissolved into tears, until, moved by her great sorrow, the pitying Diana formed of her a fountain, from which came ever flowing waters.

And so, according to the fable, the water used in Vesta's Temple came from the pure spring of Wisdom. Be this as it may, the water used by the Vestals was fresh and sweet, and with it the sacred place was daily sprinkled, in token of the cleansing, not only of the Temple, but of the city also.