me excusable, for it was done to stop the shedding of blood. The
noble and heroic feelings which have taken such hold of the mind of
modern Europe, and distinguish it from any other age or quarter of the
globe, have mainly arisen from the profound emotions awakened by the
mingling of the passions of chivalry with the aspirations of devotion
during the Crusades. The sacrifice of several millions of men, however
dreadful an evil, was a transient and slight calamity, when set against
the incalculable effect of communicating such feelings to their
descendants, and stamping them for ever upon the race of Japhet,
destined to people and subdue the world.

Look at the mottoes on the seals of our older nobility, which date from
the era of the Crusades, or the ages succeeding it, when their heroic
spirit was not yet extinct, and you will see the clearest demonstration
of what was the spirit of these memorable contests. They are all founded
on the sacrifice of self to duty, of interest to devotion, of life to
love. There is little to be seen there about industry amassing wealth,
or prudence averting calamity; but much about honour despising danger,
and life sacrificed to duty. In an utilitarian or commercial age, such
principles may appear extravagant or romantic; but it is from such
extravagant romance that all the greatness of modern Europe has taken
its rise. We cannot emancipate ourselves from their influence: a
fountain of generous thoughts in every elevated bosom is perpetually
gushing forth, from the ideas which have come down to us from the Holy
Wars. They live in our romances, in our tragedies, in our poetry, in our
language, in our hearts. Of what use are such feelings, say the
partisans of utility? "Of what use," answers Madame De Stael, "is the
Apollo Belvidere, or the poetry of Milton; the paintings of Raphael, or
the strains of Handel? Of what use is the rose or the eglantine; the
colours of autumn, or the setting of the sun?" And yet what object ever
moved the heart as they have done, and ever will do? Of what use is all
that is sublime or beautiful in nature, if not to the soul itself? The
interest taken in such objects attests the dignity of that being which
is immortal and invisible, and which is ever more strongly moved by
whatever speaks to its immortal and invisible nature, than by all the
cares of present existence.

When such is the magnificence and interest of the subject of the
Crusades, it is surprising