guile he crushed and kept under him his turbulent barons, creating a counterpoise to them in men of low extraction, sometimes drawn from the English soil, sometimes from foreign lands; and though his police administration of England may have lacked the incessant vigilance and completeness of that of his father, it was not wanting in vigour or purpose. During a large part of his reign, indeed, as we gather from the frequent complaints of the friendly Anglo-Saxon chronicler, he rather neglected the internal condition of England in his absorption in Continental affairs. His administrative genius had not the ubiquity of his father's. But when he was to some extent relieved from the anxiety on the other side of the Channel, he set himself energetically to work to realise the promises which he had held forth in charters at the beginning of his reign, and every part of the kingdom, and every branch of the government, local as well as imperial, felt the firm touch of his well-directed hand. Men complained, indeed, that he executed the innocent along with the guilty, but it is certain that the idea of an irresistible, presiding executive was re-established in England, and local oppression in many cases sank into a mere memory, lingering about the mouldering castles of the dispossessed nobles. The scholar who could not forgive a satire could be a liberal and discerning patron of learning and genius. Another standard of merit besides that of military prowess and strength

of arm and limb was set up in the land; and ecclesiastics became less famous as churchmen than as men of arts and letters. Ecclesiastical pretensions were kept at bay and temporised with; never practically admitted. Here the student-king encountered the student-priest, and the result was a drawn battle. Anselm, who, in horror or despair of Rufus, had quitted the arena, was first invited back, caressed, cajoled, and used as an instrument of the King's plans and necessities. Then, when the demands of the priest became too exacting, he was threatened and forced into a second exile; then again plied with all the devices of a subtle diplomacy, until the Church and Rome itself were won from his side. And lastly, the Archbishop was compelled to submit to a crafty compromise, which gave up half the points in dispute to the ecclesiastic, but left all the power to the King, robbing the partial victory of all its pleasure to the restored exile, who was then again caressed and soothed into reluctant quiescence and comparative insignificance.

Such was the wise, calculating, anxious, unloved and unloving Henry Beauclerc, the Student-King, who feared men not a little, but who made all men fear him still more.

46

STEPHEN AND MATILDA.

If I were seeking for an illustration of that peculiarity in Royalty which sets it apart in the public eye from other conditions of life, and fences it in with something of a feeling of sanctity, I could find none more apt for my purpose than the case of Stephen of Blois, who, with many of the qualities which are especially kingly, and with others to which few kings have attained, never succeeded in impressing the mind of the nation with the stamp of a king. Brave he was, even to rashness; and he was not only a good soldier, but a skilful general. He had the quick military eye, and prompt military decision. His energy was exhaustless. Wherever opposition raised itself, or danger threatened, he flew like the wind, constantly taking his enemies by surprise, disconcerting elaborate combinations and calculations, and crushing half-executed designs. His perseverance was indomitable, and combined with an elastic spirit supported him through every phase of fortune. He was chivalrous to an extent which marked him out most favourably among the fendal

warriors of that age. The chroniclers who are most attached to the cause of his rival frankly admit his great generosity to his enemies, and the kindliness of his disposition. He carried this so far as to supply the pecuniary necessities of his young rival, Henry of Anjou, without seeking a single advantage in return when he appealed to his chivalry, during an unsuccessful invasion of England. To have

ceased to oppose him, or to be at his mercy, was with him a sure recommendation to forgiveness, or to humane and noble treatment. He was courteous and affable to all men, even to an excess of condescension. He had a bright spirit, a genial disposition, and a kindly, if not a warın heart. In short, he was a perfect gentleman of the Continental rather than the Anglo-Norman type, with something in him, too (notwithstanding the imputations on his sincerity), which left the conviction of genuine sympathy and real good intentions towards all men. If the fidelity of men could have been secured by an infinite succession of satisfactory personal interviews, he would have retained, as he won for the moment, every heart to his side. If tranquillity in a kingdom could have been insured by prompt personal repression of overt acts of rebellion against his executive, Stephen would never have been wanting in this respect. If the example of personal abstinence from tyranny and cruelty could have inspired the barons of England with some sense of justice and humanity,

and the common people with an idea of property and of order, Stephen's character would have been an excellent substitute for an exact execution of the best laws of Edward the Confessor. But it was not so. Stephen approached the ideal of a knight sans peur et sans reproche, but the men around him, and the society of which he was the nominal guardian, were very little affected by the fact. He was never felt to be a King, and no effort on his part could make him either feel or act as a King. When he became a prisoner in the hands of his enemies, many lamented his imprisonment and demanded the release of their dear lord; but no one seems to have felt the inadequacy of the proposed exchange for him of Robert, Earl of Gloucester, except Robert himself, the son of a king, though base-born. With all his high qualities, he had nothing of the awful majesty of kings;' his influence and authority were alike strictly personal, and he was always thrown back on his own personal resources. He had nothing of the caste feeling of Royalty, though his bearing was so naturally courteous that it was almost royal. But it was always courtesy to the individual man, not to the member of a class. His social bearing resolved itself into an infinite number of personal relations, within that society of which he was a member, not the external Head; and his energies were dissipated and lost amidst a crowd of separate and special transactions. He tried to know and he