phew;[13] it was to the same fragment that the son of
Justinian the Second clung for protection, in the revolution which
hurled his father from the throne;[14] and we might entertain more
respect for the superstition of the Greeks, if the supposed sanctity of
this relic had produced either the observance of the oath, or the safety
of the suppliant. At length, in the year 1078, the object of this
narrative recommenced its travels. A wealthy citizen of Amalfi, whose
name is not recorded, had long felt a wish to exchange active life for
the cloister, and had selected the monastery of Casinum as the place of
his future retirement. Being present in the Eastern capital during the
tumultuous deposition of Michael the Seventh, he perceived in the
general confusion a favourable opportunity for appropriating this
precious fragment to himself. His zeal did not forget at the same time
to secure the golden case, richly embossed with jewels, which contained
it, and both were laid as a welcome offering before the shrine of St.
Benedict, at Casinum.[15] The good fathers must have felt no little pride
when strangers beheld, in their secluded and obscure retreat, a relic
which a long succession of the most illustrious princes had gloried
in possessing.

The next place to which we can trace the Cross is Palestine, during the
crusades, to which it had doubtless been conveyed for the purpose of
restoring it to its more ancient and appropriate station, at Jerusalem.
In, that country it was exposed to frequent hazards, as the crusaders
appear to have been in the habit of bearing it in the van of their
armies, when marching against the Mussulmans, hoping by its presence
amongst them to secure the victory. One of their battles against the
forces of Saladin by no means fulfilled their expectations, and in the
course of it the sacred relic itself was unfortunately severed; one half
of it being captured by the enemy, and most probably destroyed.[16]
This untoward accident, however, by no means impaired their veneration
for the remaining fragment; and, at the commencement of the thirteenth
century, it is again recorded as taking the field with the King of
Hungary and the Duke of Austria.[17] From these it passed into the hands
of their brother crusaders, the Latin sovereigns of Constantinople; and
thus, by a singular train of circumstances, a change of dynasty restored
this precious relic to the people which had so long enjoyed its
possession. It d