ON a previous occasion I posed a question: family relations mattered, or did they? I now intend to investigate in what way they mattered. It is a complex problem. In the middle ages men were reminded more frequently than now by the varied representation of the tale of Cain and Abel that family relations are not always easy; they could be supportive, cohesive, quarrelsome or murderous. So it is reasonable to ask: why the one rather than the other? Behind that there are other questions: when did the family matter and when not? Why did it matter when it did and why when not? A long established tradition in Anglo-Saxon scholarship has been concerned with the respective roles of kinship, lordship and local association. What can be said on the same topics for the post-Conquest period? For it is plain that there can be no secure conclusions about the family unless it is correctly located and properly embedded in the matrix of social and political relationships within which men lived their lives.

Replying, on 13 January 1308, to letters of Philip IV of France describing the arrest of the Templars, Albert of Habsburg, King of the Germans, after expressing the customary sadness at the turn of events and extolling his own role as the leading prince in defence of the faith, remarked that although a crime of such evil infamy ought to be reprehensible and damnable in all persons, nevertheless it is known to be more reprehensible among the religious, who ought by the splendour of their life to be mirror for others and an example. Throughout the 193 years of its history the Order had indeed been in a position where it was a mirror for others and an example, a position which made it a particularly sensitive indicator and, in its turn, promoter, of social change. This paper is an attempt to tiace this interrelationship.

IN 1965 a very distinguished Bentham scholar read a paper to this society on Bentham and the French Revolution. During the period dealt with by that paper Bentham became an honorary citizen of France (largely through his friendship with Brissot), but he remained little known either in Britain or on the Continent. Thirty years later, he was world-famous. In 1825 members of the Colombian Congress in Bogot were quoting Bentham at each other much as eighteenth-century Englishmen had quoted Cicero in the House of Commons; and among the leaders of the Decembrist mutiny of the same year in St Petersburg were men who confessed to having been influenced by Bentham's works. In 1829 a weekly newspaper was appearing at Boston, Massachusetts, which carried his phrase the greatest happiness of the greatest number as its motto, while a journal called L'Utilitaire was being published at Geneva to propagate his ideas. This paper will not tackle the large and controversial subject of the extent and significance of Bentham's influence. It will address itself to questions that are more limited, though they have some bearing on the larger topic. These questions are: how did those outside the circle of his followers react to his ideas, and what attempts were made to challenge or refute them?

IN the fifteenth and particularly in the sixteenth century one obvious casualty of historical development was the corporate state, embodied in the city states and communes of medieval Italy. Whether conquered by powerful foreign powers, or succumbing to the attractions of a locally-based signore, with the notable, and frequently-lauded, exception of Venice, whose proudest boast remained that her affairs were governed with laws, all the Italian communes had collapsed by the beginning of the seventeenth century and the norm of political organisation had become the highly centralised, absolutist monarchy, typified by the Church State, the Grand Duchy of Tuscany, and the Duchy of Savoy.

THE modern study of urban history began in the nineteenth century, and has since continued to reflect the preoccupations of its founders. For these historians, the towns of the European Middle Ages nurtured the seeds of political democracy and economic liberalism. Consequently, two great historians of the late nineteenth century, Charles Gross and F.W. Maitland, laid down criteria for the definition of towns which stressed above all the theme of administrative independence. It was declared that fundamental legal differences distinguished the borough from other forms of community, in particular the village. Burghal status, and the features associated with itsuch as the existence of a civil constitution, the right to representation in parliament, and the free tenure of propertyhave been exhaustively analysed by subsequent writers, not-ably James Tait. This emphasis upon the legal autonomy of towns has been strengthened by the prestige of the great medieval cities of Flanders, Germany and Italy, which repeatedly exemplify the trade centre fighting or bargaining to achieve communal independence from feudal overlords and control over the surrounding countryside. In accordance with this pattern of urban development, historians have tended to seek, as a necessary first stage of growth, evidence of such a struggle for self-governing independence.

ARGUMENT about the consequences of the Conquest is perennial and probably unresolvable. Exponents may be found of the full range of possibilities from essential continuity to catastrophic change. Yet amid all the diversity of opinion there is a piece of common ground: it is generally agreed that the Norman rulers not merely appropriated the governmental system of their.Anglo-Saxon predecessors but ran it more efficiently. Managerial efficiency is indeed commonly regarded as a Norman characteristic. In the early twelfth century the kingdom of Sicily and the kingdom of England were the two most prosperous, orderly, and astutely governed states in Europe. Both were under Norman management. Wherever else we find the Normans in their century of astonishing expansion they appear as irresistible take-over bidders, moving in upon and merging with any society, whatever its traditions and institutions, treating both lordship and government as aspects of business management, exploiting the assets and extracting the profits more effectively than the previous owners. So it seems a wholly reasonable assumption to attribute the development of royal government in the first two generations after the Conquest to a combination of managerial efficiency and the Norman rulers' need to get more out of their kingdom than their predecessors.

IN the late 1140s William d'Aubigny, Earl of Chichester, wrote to all his men both French and English, to say that he had sinned and that he was very sorry. He had made many exactions on the churches and the lands of those in the bishopric of Chichester and under my authority (sub potestate mea). A few years earlier Gilbert Earl of Pembroke had written to Theobald Archbishop of Canter-bury to tell him that there is a place in Wales called Dungleddy, and that it lay in those regions which by divine mercy have recently been added to our authority (potestas again). And from the last few years of the reign there is a well-known agreement between the earls of Chester and Leicester, designed to keep the peace in Leicester-shire. In it each party made specific promises, intended to reduce the damage should they have to fight against each other for their different lords. At the end of each set of promises there was a statement in this form: the earl of Leicester ought to guard the land and the goods of the earl of Chester which are in the power (in potestate) of the earl of Leicester without ill-will; the earl of Chester gave an undertaking in the same words. There are four earls here, and three different regions. They speak the same language, and that language reflects the same pattern of thought. They think in terms of territorial lordship: the bishopric of Chichester, the county of Leicester, the regions of Wales.

LENGTHY reports survive of speeches by several members of the Long Parliament for 9 November 1640, at the end of the first week of the session. The future royalist militant, George Lord Digby is reported to have begun his address by saying that:

you have received now a solemn account from most of the shires of England of the several Grievances and Oppressions they sustain, and nothing as yet from Dorsetshire: Sir I would not have you think that I serve for a Land of Goshen, and that we live there in sunshine, whilst darkness and plagues overspread the rest of the land

The future royalist moderate Sir John Culpepper is reported to have begun: I stand not up with a Petition in my hand, I have it in my mouth, and he enumerated the grievances of his shire beginning with the great increase of papists and the obtruding and countenancing of divers new ceremonies in matters of religion. The future Parliamentarian moderate, Harbottle Grimston, said that these petitions which have been read, they are all remonstrances of the general and universal grievances and distempers that are now in the state and Government of the Church and Commonwealth. The future Parliamentarian radical Sir John Wray said:

All in this renowned senate, I am confident, is fully fixed upon the true Reformation of all Disorders and Innovations in Church or Religion, and upon the well uniting and close rejoining of the poor dislocated Great Britain. For, let me tell you Mr Speaker, that God be thanked, it is but out of joint and may be well set by the skilful chyrurgeons of this Honourable House.