Our air of condescension towards foreigners is certainly of long standing. I began by reminding you that England was the first country which displayed a strong national consciousness, and this involved a sense of separation from other peoples. The history of the thirteenth century is largely concerned with the persistent determination to purge England from foreign influences and secure a purely national government. The pages of Matthew Paris are full of this English sentiment, which was directed equally against Italian ecclesiastics and the relatives of a Provençal queen. Characteristically English was "the Association of those who would rather die than be confounded by the Romans," who, under that title, sent a circular to the bishops bidding them not to interfere while they burned the barns in which these aliens stored their tithe. And here, at Osney Abbey, the students shot the cook of the legate Otho, who lost his temper at their free and easy ways. It was the cry of "England for the English" that prompted the Barons' War, and breathes through the literature which it produced. Yet even so, England judged not according to the letter. When foreigners were ordered to give up their castles, Simon de Montfort was included in the number; but England had need of him, and when those who were obnoxious had been got rid of, Simon was restored to his possessions. The earliest account of England from outside is that of a Venetian ambassador in 1497. He says: "The English are great lovers of themselves and of everything belonging to them. They think that there are no other men like themselves, and no other world but England;
