money, and introduced trade.  But they were powerless to affect Irish civilization.  The tribal system survived in its full strength, and Ireland remained divided between two races, two languages, two civilizations in different stages of progress, two separate communities ruled by their own laws, and two half-completed ecclesiastical systems, for the Danish Church long looked, as the Irish had never done, to the Archbishop of Canterbury as their head.  Earnest attempts had already been made by Hadrian’s predecessor to bring the Irish into closer connection with the see of Rome.  In 1152 a papal legate had carried out a great reform by which four archbishops, wholly independent of Canterbury and receiving their palls from Rome, were set over four provinces.  But still no Peter’s Pence were paid to Rome; Roman canon law, Roman ritual, the Roman rules of marriage, had no authority; the Roman form of baptism was replaced by a tradition which made the father dip his new-born child three times in water, or, if he were a rich man, in milk; there was no payment of tithes; clerks were taxed like laymen when a homicide occurred; Irish nobles still demanded hospitality from religious houses, and claimed, according to ancient custom, provisions from towns on Church domains.  Hadrian himself had long been interested in Irish affairs.  The religious houses which the Irish maintained in Germany kept up communication with Pope and Emperor; an Irish abbot at Nuremberg was chaplain to the Emperor Frederick; one of Hadrian’s masters at Paris had been a monk from the Irish settlement in Ratisbon, and as Pope he still remembered the Irish monk with warm affection.  When he was raised to the Papacy in the very year of Henry’s coronation, one of his first cares was to complete the organization of Christendom in the West by bringing the Irish Church under Catholic discipline.

Henry, on his part, was only too eager to accept his new responsibility, and less than a year after his coronation he called a council to discuss the conquest of Ireland.  The scheme was abandoned on account of its difficulties, but the question was later raised again in another form.  Diarmait Mac Murchadha (in modern form Jeremiah Murphy), King of Leinster, had carried off in 1152 the wife of the chief of Breifne (Cavan and Leitrim).  A confederation was formed against him under Ruaidhri (or Rory), King of Connaught, and he was driven from the island in 1166.  “Following a flying fortune and hoping much from the turning of the wheel,” he fled to Henry in Aquitaine, did homage to the English king for his lands, and received in return letters granting permission to such of Henry’s servants as were willing to aid him in their recovery.  Diarmait easily found allies in the nobles of the Welsh border, in whose veins ran the blood of two warlike races.  It was by just such an enterprise as this that their Norman fathers and grandfathers had won their Welsh domains.  From childhood they had been