Young as he was, and he had reached but his twenty-first year when he returned to England as its king, Henry mounted the throne with a purpose of government which his reign carried steadily out.  His practical, serviceable frame suited the hardest worker of his time.  There was something in his build and look, in the square stout form, the fiery face, the close-cropped hair, the prominent eyes, the bull neck, the coarse strong hands, the bowed legs, that marked out the keen, stirring, coarse-fibred man of business.  “He never sits down,” said one who observed him closely; “he is always on his legs from morning till night.”  Orderly in business, careless of appearance, sparing in diet, never resting or giving his servants rest, chatty, inquisitive, endowed with a singular charm of address and strength of memory, obstinate in love or hatred, a fair scholar, a great hunter, his general air that of a rough, passionate, busy man, Henry’s personal character told directly on the character of his reign.  His accession marks the period of amalgamation when neighbourhood and traffic and intermarriage drew Englishmen and Normans into a single people.  A national feeling was thus springing up before which the barriers of the older feudalism were to be swept away.  Henry had even less reverence for the feudal past than the men of his day:  he was indeed utterly without the imagination and reverence which enable men to sympathize with any past at all.  He had a practical man’s impatience of the obstacles thrown in the way of his reforms by the older constitution of the realm, nor could he understand other men’s reluctance to purchase undoubted improvements by the sacrifice of customs and traditions of bygone days.  Without any theoretical hostility to the co-ordinate powers of the state, it seemed to him a perfectly reasonable and natural course to trample either baronage or Church under foot to gain his end of good government.  He saw clearly that the remedy for such anarchy as England had endured under Stephen lay in the establishment of a kingly rule unembarrassed by any privileges of order or class, administered by royal servants, and in whose public administration the nobles acted simply as delegates of the sovereign.  His work was to lie in the organization of judicial and administrative reforms which realized this idea.  But of the currents of thought and feeling which were tending in the same direction he knew nothing.  What he did for the moral and social impulses which were telling on men about him was simply to let them alone.  Religion grew more and more identified with patriotism under the eyes of a king who whispered, and scribbled, and looked at picture-books during mass, who never confessed, and cursed God in wild frenzies of blasphemy.  Great peoples formed themselves on both sides of the sea round a sovereign who bent the whole force of his mind to hold together an Empire which the growth of nationality must inevitably destroy.  There is throughout a tragic grandeur in the irony of Henry’s