particular festival was dedicated.
In this connexion it may be significant that a festival of jollity and drunkenness was celebrated by the plebeians and slaves at Rome on Midsummer Day, and that the festival was specially associated with the fireborn King Servius Tullius, being held in honour of Fortuna, the goddess who loved Servius as Egeria loved Numa. The popular merrymakings at this season included foot-races and boat-races; the Tiber was gay with flower-wreathed boats, in which young folk sat quaffing wine. The festival appears to have been a sort of Midsummer Saturnalia answering to the real Saturnalia which fell at Midwinter. In modern Europe, as we shall learn later on, the great Midsummer festival has been above all a festival of lovers and of fire; one of its principal features is the pairing of sweethearts, who leap over the bonfires hand in hand or throw flowers across the flames to each other. And many omens of love and marriage are drawn from the flowers which bloom at this mystic season. It is the time of the roses and of love. Yet the innocence
and beauty of such festivals in modern times ought not to blind us to the likelihood that in earlier days they were marked by coarser features, which were probably of the essence of the rites. Indeed, among the rude Esthonian peasantry these features seem to have lingered down to our own generation, if not to the present day. One other feature in the Roman celebration of Midsummer deserves to be specially noticed. The custom of rowing in flower-decked boats on the river on this day proves that it was to some extent a wa-ter festival; and water has always, down to modern times, played a conspicuous part in the rites of Midsummer Day, which explains why the Church, in throwing its cloak over the old heathen festival, chose to dedicate it to St. John the Baptist.
The hypothesis that the Latin kings may have been begotten at an annual festival of love is necessarily a mere conjecture, though the
traditional birth of Numa at the festival of the Parilia, when shepherds leaped across the spring bonfires, as lovers leap across the
Midsummer fires, may perhaps be thought to lend it a faint colour of probability. But it is quite possible that the uncertainty as to
their fathers may not have arisen till long after the death of the kings, when their figures began to melt away into the cloudland of
fable, assuming fantastic shapes and gorgeous colouring as they passed from earth to heaven. If they were alien immigrants, stran-
gers and pilgrims in the land they ruled over, it would be natural enough that the people should forget their lineage, and forgetting it
should provide them with another, which made up in lustre what it lacked in truth. The final apotheosis, which represented the kings
not merely as sprung from gods but as themselves deities incarnate, would be much facilitated if in their lifetime, as we have seen
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reason to think, they had actually laid claim to divinity.
If among the Latins the women of royal blood always stayed at home and received as their consorts men of another stock, and often of another country, who reigned as kings in virtue of their marriage with a native princess, we can understand not only why foreigners wore the crown at Rome, but also why foreign names occur in the list of the Alban kings. In a state of society where nobility is reckoned only through women--in other words, where descent through the mother is everything, and descent through the father
is nothing--no objection will be felt to uniting girls of the highest rank to men of humble birth, even to aliens or slaves, provided that in themselves the men appear to be suitable mates. What really matters is that the royal stock, on which the prosperity and even the existence of the people is supposed to depend, should be perpetuated in a vigorous and efficient form, and for this purpose it
is necessary that the women of the royal family should bear children to men who are physically and mentally fit, according to the
standard of early society, to discharge the important duty of procreation. Thus the personal qualities of the kings at this stage of
social evolution are deemed of vital importance. If they, like their consorts, are of royal and divine descent, so much the better; but
it is not essential that they should be so.
At Athens, as at Rome, we find traces of succession to the throne by marriage with a royal princess; for two of the most ancient
kings of Athens, namely Cecrops and Amphictyon, are said to have married the daughters of their predecessors. This tradition is to a
certain extent confirmed by evidence, pointing to the conclusion that at Athens male kinship was preceded by female kinship.
Further, if I am right in supposing that in ancient Latium the royal families kept their daughters at home and sent forth their sons
to marry princesses and reign among their wives' people, it will follow that the male descendants would reign in successive genera-
tions over different kingdoms. Now this seems to have happened both in ancient Greece and in ancient Sweden; from which we
may legitimately infer that it was a custom practised by more than one branch of the Aryan stock in Europe. Many Greek traditions
relate how a prince left his native land, and going to a far country married the king's daughter and succeeded to the kingdom. Various
reasons are assigned by ancient Greek writers for these migrations of the princes. A common one is that the king's son had been
banished for murder. This would explain very well why he fled his own land, but it is no reason at all why he should become king
of another. We may suspect that such reasons are afterthoughts devised by writers, who, accustomed to the rule that a son should
succeed to his father's property and kingdom, were hard put to it to account for so many traditions of kings' sons who quitted the
land of their birth to reign over a foreign kingdom. In Scandinavian tradition we meet with traces of similar customs. For we read of
daughters' husbands who received a share of the kingdoms of their royal fathers-in-law, even when these fathers-in-law had sons of
their own; in particular, during the five generations which preceded Harold the Fair-haired, male members of the Ynglingar family,
which is said to have come from Sweden, are reported in the Heimskringla or Sagas of the Norwegian Kings to have obtained at
least six provinces in Norway by marriage with the daughters of the local kings.
Thus it would seem that among some Aryan peoples, at a certain stage of their social evolution, it has been customary to regard women and not men as the channels in which royal blood flows, and to bestow the kingdom in each successive generation on a man of another family, and often of another country, who marries one of the princesses and reigns over his wife's people. A common type of popular tale, which relates how an adventurer, coming to a strange land, wins the hand of the king's daughter and with her the half or the whole of the kingdom, may well be a reminiscence of a real custom.
Where usages and ideas of this sort prevail, it is obvious that the kingship is merely an appanage of marriage with a woman of the blood royal. The old Danish historian Saxo Grammaticus puts this view of the kingship very clearly in the mouth of Hermutrude, a legendary queen of Scotland. "Indeed she was a queen," says Hermutrude, "and but that her sex gainsaid it, might be deemed a king; nay (and this is yet truer), whomsoever she thought worthy of her bed was at once a king, and she yielded her kingdom with herself. Thus her sceptre and her hand went together." The statement is all the more significant because it appears to reflect the actual practice of the Pictish kings. We know from the testimony of Bede that, whenever a doubt arose as to the succession, the Picts chose
their kings from the female rather than the male line.
The personal qualities which recommended a man for a royal alliance and succession to the throne would naturally vary according to
the popular ideas of the time and the character of the king or his