With Dante, we are on the Mount of Transfiguration. It is good for us to be here; it is good to repair hither again and again; but at the foot of this mountain the world is going very much its own way: that motley world, that Vanity Fair, from out of which so many struggling souls cry: “Lord, I believe, help Thou mine unbelief!” We have taken stock of the true foundation of lay society, the Village; let us look now at its apex, the Court.

The Conquest made England the home of a more powerful monarchy than any other state of equal size. Not that the general population was worse off; quite the contrary; but the barons were more restricted. From William the Conqueror to Henry II, the power of the English king was far greater than that of his contemporary in France—let alone Germany. King and barons alike were foreigners, and were compelled to hold together in face of a hostile population. Again, the king had made himself, and had made the barons. The Duke of Normandy had become King of England; and the adventurers, distinguished or undistinguished, who shared his fortunes, thus became great nobles. Hence, William being a character strong enough to take advantage of this position, the feudal nobility was curbed here as nowhere else on the Continent. Michelet says truly: “The Anglo-Norman State and Church were organized with a firmness which was a model to the rest of the world. Continental kings envied the omnipotence of their English brethren; continental peoples envied the despotic but orderly discipline which reigned in Great Britain.”