Such were, in my opinion, the determining causes of the crusades in the twelfth century. At the end of the thirteenth century, neither the one nor the other of them any longer existed. Mankind and society were so changed, that neither the moral impulse nor the social wants which had precipitated Europe upon Asia, were any longer felt. It is a curious matter to compare the contemporary chroniclers of the first crusades with those of the end of the twelfth and of the thirteenth century; for example, Albert of Aix, Robert the monk, and Raymond of Agiles, who were present in the first crusade, with William of Tyre and James of Vitry. When we bring these two classes of writers together, we are immediately struck with the distance which separates them. The first are animated chroniclers, with excited imaginations, who relate the events of the crusade with great warmth. But their minds were prodigiously narrow, having no idea out of the petty sphere in which they lived, strangers to all science, filled with prejudices, and incapable of forming any judgment whatsoever upon what was passing around them, or upon the events which they recount. On the contrary, opening the history of William of Tyre, we are astonished to discover almost an historian of modern times, a developed, expansive, and unprejudiced mind, a rare political insight into events, comprehensive views, and a judgment based upon causes and effects. James of Vitry presents the example of another order of development; he is a learned man, who carries his inquiries beyond what has immediate reference to the crusades, and dilates upon the state of manners, upon geography, heathenism, and natural history; in fact, one who observes and describes the world. In fine, there is a vast interval between the chroniclers of the first crusades and the historians of the last, sufficient to convince us of a veritable revolution in the state of the human mind.

This revolution is especially perceptible in the feeling with which the two classes mention the Mohammedans. To the first chroniclers, and consequently to the first crusaders, of whom they are but the expression, Mohammedans are objects only of hatred; it is evident that those who speak of them do not know them or judge them upon proof, but consider them only with the blindness of the religious hostility which exists between them: we discover no trace of any mutual social relation; they hate and they fight them, nothing more. William of Tyre, James of Vitry, and Bernard the Treasurer, speak of the Mussulmans quite differently; although engaged in combating them, it is clear that they look upon them no longer as monsters, that they have to a certain extent entered into their ideas, that they have lived with them, and that relations, and even a sort of sympathy, have been established between them. William of Tyre passes a fine eulogium upon Noureddin, and Bernard the Treasurer upon Saladin. They even sometimes go so far as to place the manners and conduct of the Mussulmans in opposition to the manners and conduct of the Christians, and they praise the Mohammedans, in order to satirise the Christians, as Tacitus painted the manners of the Germans as a contrast to those of Rome. Now, the change must have been immense which was accomplished between the two epochs, since we find in the last a freedom and impartiality of spirit in regard to the very enemies of the Christians, those against whom the crusades themselves were directed, which would have filled the first crusaders with astonishment and rage.

Here was the first and main result of the crusades, a great step towards the enfranchisement of the mind, and a considerable advance towards more extended and unprejudiced ideas. Commenced in the name, and under the influence of religious principles, the crusades took from religious ideas, I will not say their legitimate share of influence, but the exclusive and despotic possession of the human mind. This consequence, doubtless a very unforeseen one, was produced by various causes. The first arose certainly from the novelty, the extent, and the variety of the scenes that were offered to the contemplation of the crusaders. There happened to them what usually happens to travellers. It is a mere commonplace to say that the mind of a traveller is set free, and that the custom of comparing different nations, manners, and opinions expands the ideas, and clears the judgment from ancient prejudices. Now, the same fact occurred to these travelling populations who have been called crusaders; their minds were opened and elevated by the mere circumstance of witnessing a multitude of different things, and by becoming acquainted with manners distinct from their own. Besides, they came into relations with two civilisations, not only different, but more advanced—namely, the Greek society on the one hand, and the Mussulman on the other. There can be no doubt but that the Greek society, although its civilisation was emasculated, corrupted, and expiring, had on the crusaders the operation of a society in a more advanced state, more polished and enlightened than theirs. The Mussulman society offered to them a spectacle of the same nature. It is curious to perceive in the chronicles the impression that the crusaders produced upon the Mohammedans; the latter regarded them upon their first approach as barbarians, as the most brutal, ferocious, and stupid mortals it had been their lot to behold. The crusaders, on their side, were struck with the exhibition of wealth and the refinement of manners amongst the Moslems. Frequent relations between the two people soon succeeded this first impression. These extended, and became much more important than is generally believed. Not only had the Christians of the East habitual relations with the Mohammedans, but the East and the West came to know, to visit, and to mingle with each other. Not long ago, one of those learned men who made France honourable in the eyes of Europe, M. Abel Remusat, has brought to light the intercourse between the Mongol emperors and the Christian kings. Mongol ambassadors were sent to the Frank kings, to St. Louis amongst others, to induce them to enter into alliance, and to recommence crusades for the common interests of Mongols and Christians against the Turks. And not only were diplomatic or official relations thus established between the sovereigns, but they extended to frequent and varied relations amongst the populations. I shall quote literally from M. Remusat. [Footnote 11]

[Footnote 11: 'Memoirs of the Political Relations of the Christian Princes with the Mongol Emperors.'—Second Memoir, p. 145-157.]

'A great many Italian, French, and Flemish monks were charged with diplomatic missions to the great khan. Mongols of distinction came to Rome, Barcelona, Valentia, Lyons, Paris, London, and Northampton, and a Franciscan of the kingdom of Naples was archbishop of Pekin. His successor was a professor of theology of the faculty of Paris. But how many other persons less known were drawn after these, either as slaves, or attracted by the love of gain, or urged by curiosity, into countries up to that period unknown! Chance has preserved the names of some. The first envoy who came to visit the king of Hungary, on the part of the Tartars, was an Englishman, banished from his country for certain crimes, and who, after having wandered over all Asia, had finished by taking service amongst the Mongols. A Flemish shoemaker met in the depths of Tartary a woman from Metz, named Paquette, who had been carried off in Hungary; a Parisian goldsmith, whose brother was established in Paris upon the great bridge; and a young man from the environs of Rouen, who had been at the taking of Belgrade. He saw also some Russians, Hungarians, and Flemings. A chorister, named Robert, after traversing Oriental Asia, returned to end his days in the cathedral of Chartres. A Tartar was purveyor of helmets in the armies of Philip the Handsome. John de Plancarpin fell in, near Gayouk, with a Russian nobleman whom he calls Temer, who was officiating as interpreter; several merchants of Breslau, Poland, and Austria accompanied him in his journey to Tartary. Others returned with him by way of Russia; they were Genoese, Pisans, and Venetians. Two merchants from Venice, whom hazard had conducted to Bokhara, consented to follow a Mongol ambassador from Houlagou sent to Khoubalai. They sojourned several years in China and Tartary, returned with letters from the great khan for the pope, went back to the great khan, taking with them the son of one of them, the celebrated Marco Polo, and once more quitted the court of Khoubalai to return to Venice. Travels of this sort were not less frequent in the following age. In the number are those of Sir John Mandeville, an English physician, of Orderic of Frioul, of Pegoletti, of William Bouldeselle, and of several others. We can readily conceive that those whose memory is preserved are but a very small portion of those that were undertaken, and that there were at the period in question more people capable of executing distant journeys than of writing accounts of them. Very many of these adventurers must have settled and died in the countries they went to visit. Others returned to their native land as obscure as they went away, but with an imagination filled with what they had seen, and gave relations to their families, highly coloured doubtless, but thereby leaving around them, amidst ridiculous fables, useful remembrances, and traditions capable of bearing good fruit. Thus in Germany, Italy, and France, in the monasteries, in the castles of the feudal lords, and even in the lowest ranks of society, were deposited precious mementos, destined at a somewhat later period to be turned to account. All these unknown travellers, carrying the arts of their own countries into distant lands, brought back others not less precious, and made, without perception on their parts, more advantageous exchanges than all those of commerce. By these means, not only the trade in silks, porcelain, and Indian commodities became extended and more practicable, opening up new routes to commercial industry and activity, but what was of still greater consequence, foreign manners, unknown nations, and extraordinary productions, crowded upon the minds of Europeans, repressed since the fall of the Roman Empire into too narrow a circle. They began to estimate properly the finest, the best-peopled, and the most anciently-civilised of the four quarters of the globe. They set about studying the arts, creeds, and idioms of the nations who inhabited it, and there was even a project for establishing a chair of the Tartar language in the university of Paris. Romantic accounts, being soon investigated and valued as they deserved, spread on all sides more just and comprehensive ideas. The world seemed to open on the side of the East; geography made a prodigious stride; and an ardour for discoveries became the new direction which the adventurous spirit of Europeans fell into. When our own hemisphere was better known, the idea of another ceased to present itself to the mind as a paradox stripped of all likelihood; and it was upon an expedition in search of the Zipango of Marco Polo, that Christopher Columbus discovered the New World.'

Here we see how vast and novel a world was opened to the European mind by means of circumstances brought about by the impulse of the crusades in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. We cannot doubt it to have been one of the most powerful causes of the mental development and freedom which broke forth at the end of that great era.

Another circumstance deserves to be mentioned. Previous to the crusades, the court of Rome—the centre of the church—had held communication with laymen only through the agency of ecclesiastics, either of legates sent by Rome, or of bishops and the whole body of clergy. Of course there were always some laymen in direct relation with Rome; but, upon the whole, it was by ecclesiastics that it communicated with the populations. During the crusades, on the contrary, Rome became a place of passage to a great proportion of the crusaders, either in going or returning. Multitudes of laymen thus enjoyed an opportunity of more narrowly inspecting the policy and manners of the papal court, and of discriminating how much of personal interest was mixed up with religious discussions. There can scarcely be a doubt that this new species of knowledge inspired numerous minds with a hardihood previously undreamt of.

When we reflect upon the state of public opinion in general, and especially with regard to ecclesiastical matters, at the termination of the crusades, a singular fact cannot fail to strike us. We do not find that the religious ideas had changed, or that they had been supplanted by contrary or merely different opinions, yet was opinion infinitely more free, religious dogmas were no longer the only sphere in which the human mind gave itself scope; but without altogether forsaking them, it commenced to shake them off, and carry its inquiries into other quarters. Thus, by the end of the thirteenth century, the moral cause which had provoked the crusades, or which had been at least their most energetic principle, had disappeared; the moral state of Europe had undergone deep-seated modifications.