Fiscal spirit of the time.
Effects of the lack of ecclesiastical discipline. were endless openings for employments of this kind, employments for which, as in the case of Flambard himself, the clerk was commonly better fitted than the layman. And the general fiscal spirit of the time, the endless seeking after gold and silver of which the King set the example, naturally spread through all classes; every rich man, we are told, turned money-changer.[1] The constant demands for actual coin, the large outlay of actual coin in the payment of the King's mercenaries, must have led to an increased activity in the circulation of the precious metals. The newly-come Jews, strong in royal favour, doubtless found their account in this turn of things; but some classes of Christians seem to have found their account in it also. But, besides all this, the writers of the time seem clearly to connect the frightful profligacy of the time, specially rife among the King's immediate following, with the vacancy of the archbishopric. It is true that things were not much better in Normandy, where the good soul of Archbishop William must have been daily grieved at the unlawful deeds of almost every one around him. But an Archbishop of Rouen had never been held to have the same authority over either prince or people as an Archbishop of Canterbury. Whatever power, moral or formal, was at any time wielded by the ecclesiastical state for the reformation of manners was altogether in abeyance, now that there was no Primate either to call together a synod of the national Church or to speak with that personal authority which belonged to none of the chiefs of the national Church but himself. Even darker times were in store, when there was a Primate in the land, but when his authority was defied and his person insulted.
- ↑ Will. Malms. iv. 314. "Nullus dives nisi nummularius, nullus clericus nisi causidicus, nullus presbyter nisi (ut verbo parum Latino utar) firmarius."
