duel, in
which assuredly there is no mixture of superstition.[519] But, in the
various tests of innocence which were called ordeals, this stood
undisguised and unqualified. It is not necessary to describe what is so
well known--the ceremonies of trial by handling hot iron, by plunging
the arm into boiling fluids, by floating or sinking in cold water, or by
swallowing a piece of consecrated bread. It is observable that, as the
interference of Heaven was relied upon as a matter of course, it seems
to have been reckoned nearly indifferent whether such a test was adopted
as must, humanly considered, absolve all the guilty, or one that must
convict all the innocent. The ordeals of hot iron or water were,
however, more commonly used; and it has been a perplexing question by
what dexterity these tremendous proofs were eluded. They seem at least
to have placed the decision of all judicial controversies in the hands
of the clergy, who must have known the secret, whatever that might be,
of satisfying the spectators that an accused person had held a mass of
burning iron with impunity. For several centuries this mode of
investigation was in great repute, though not without opposition from
some eminent bishops. It does discredit to the memory of Charlemagne
that he was one of its warmest advocates.[520] But the judicial combat,
which indeed might be reckoned one species of ordeal, gradually put an
end to the rest; and as the church acquired better notions of law, and a
code of her own, she strenuously exerted herself against all these
barbarous superstitions.[521]

[Sidenote: Enthusiastic risings.]

But the religious ignorance of the middle ages sometimes burst out in
ebullitions of epidemical enthusiasm, more remarkable than these
superstitious usages, though proceeding in fact from similar causes. For
enthusiasm is little else than superstition put in motion, and is
equally founded on a strong conviction of supernatural agency without
any just conceptions of its nature. Nor has any denomination of
Christians produced, or even sanctioned, more fanaticism than the church
of Rome. These epidemical frenzies, however, to which I am alluding,
were merely tumultuous, though certainly fostered by the creed of
perpetual miracles which the clergy inculcated, and drawing a legitimate
precedent for religious insurrection from the crusades. For these, among
other evil consequences, seem to have principally excited a wild
fanaticism that did