of his letters in every particular. The king, however, still demanded submission from Anselm; his patience, he said, was worn out, he would brook no more delays, the pope had nothing to do with the rights which all his predecessors had enjoyed. Anselm was, as ever, respectful, but firm; he did not wish to deprive the king of his rights, but he could not, even to save his life, disobey the canons which he had with his own ears heard promulgated in the Roman council. For the moment the aspect of things seemed blacker than ever; men even began to fear for the personal safety of the primate, when suddenly, and with a mildness which makes one think that Henry had all along been assuming more sternness that he really felt, he suggested, almost besought, Anselm to go himself to Rome and try whether he could not induce the pope to give way. Anselm asked that the proposal might be reserved for the decision of the Easter gemot, which was then about to be held at Winchester. The assembly considered it and urged him to go. He replied that since it was their will he would go, weak and aged though he was. Anselm hastened back to Canterbury, and, setting out four days afterwards, embarked at Dover and crossed once more to Whitsand. He had not to suffer any indignities this time, but travelled in the king's peace, and throughout his absence friendly letters passed between him and the king. He was warmly welcomed everywhere, more especially, of course, at Bec, where he spent the summer on account of the risk to health of visiting Rome in the hot season. By the end of August he set out. At Rome he found his old opponent William of Warelwast come to act as the king's advocate. William pleaded so skilfully that he made a great impression on some of the pope's councillors, and boldly wound up an harangue by saying, ‘Know all men present that not to save his kingdom will King Henry lose the investiture of the churches.’ ‘And before God, not to save his head will Pope Paschal let him have them,’ was the answer. Nevertheless a moderately worded letter was despatched to Henry, informing him that though the rights of investiture could not be granted, and those who received it at his hands must be excommunicated, yet he himself should be exempted from excommunication and enjoy the exercise of all other ancestral customs. In fact it was intended to be a soothing letter, and the points at issue were somewhat veiled by compliments and congratulations to the king on the birth of his son. Meanwhile Anselm and his friends set out on their homeward journey. They were conducted through the Apennines by the renowned Countess Matilda. At Placentia they were joined by William of Warelwast, who travelled with them over the Alps and then hastened to England, while Anselm went to Lyons to spend Christmas with his old friend the archbishop. Before they parted William told him that he had been bidden by the king to say that he felt the warmest regard for Anselm, and if Anselm would only be to the king all that his predecessor had been to Henry's predecessors he would be right gladly welcomed. ‘Have you no more to say?’ asked Anselm. ‘I speak to a man of understanding,’ was the reply. ‘I know what you mean,’ said Anselm, and so they parted. At Lyons Anselm sojourned for a year and a half. The king confiscated the revenues of the see of Canterbury, but two of Anselm's own men were appointed receivers, that the tenants might not be oppressed. Anselm was to be allowed whatever was convenient for his own needs, and the king continued to keep up an amicable correspondence with him. At the same time he sent another embassy to Rome. His aim seems to have been twofold. He wanted to persuade the pope to dispense with the canon against lay investiture in his favour, and meanwhile he hoped to persuade Anselm to act on the assumption that the pope would yield. He was not successful in either aim. The pope did not dare, even for the sake of securing Henry's support, openly to set aside the canons of a Roman council, although he was dilatory in action and hesitating in speech. Anselm, on the contrary, was as firm, clear, and straightforward as ever. In spite of reproachful or suppliant letters from England urging him to return to his bereaved church, he steadfastly refused until the point in dispute was settled one way or the other. He would be to Henry all that Lanfranc had been to Henry's father, if he could be put in Lanfranc's position, if the decrees which had been passed since Lanfranc's time were rescinded by the same authority which had issued them, not otherwise (Epist. iii. 93, 94, 95, 97, iv. 43, 44). The perfect straightforwardness of Anselm was in fact embarrassing both to Henry and the pope; neither of them wished to act with complete decision and honesty of purpose, nothing short of which would satisfy Anselm. He continually sent letters or messengers to the pope, but received nothing but consolatory promises which came to nothing, while from Henry he got nothing but polite excuses. At last he resolved upon an act which should force the question to a crisis. In the summer of 1105 he set out for Normandy, where the
