Times of danger have always, and in a peculiar degree, their
seasons of good-will and security; and this was particularly so
in the ancient feudal ages, in which, as the manners of the
period had assigned war to be the chief and most worthy
occupation of mankind, the intervals of peace, or rather of
truce, were highly relished by those warriors to whom they were
seldom granted, and endeared by the very circumstances which
rendered them transitory. It is not worth while preserving any
permanent enmity against a foe whom a champion has fought with
to-day, and may again stand in bloody opposition to on the next
morning. The time and situation afforded so much room for the
ebullition of violent passions, that men, unless when peculiarly
opposed to each other, or provoked by the recollection of private
and individual wrongs, cheerfully enjoyed in each other's society
the brief intervals of pacific intercourse which a warlike life
admitted.

The distinction of religions, nay, the fanatical zeal which
animated the followers of the Cross and of the Crescent against
each other, was much softened by a feeling so natural to generous
combatants, and especially cherished by the spirit of chivalry.
This last strong impulse had extended itself gradually from the
Christians to their mortal enemies the Saracens, both of Spain
and of Palestine. The latter were, indeed, no longer the
fanatical savages who had burst from the centre of Arabian
deserts, with the sabre in one hand and the Koran in the other,
to inflict death or the faith of Mohammed, or, at the best,
slavery and tribute, upon all who dared to oppose the belief of
the prophet of Mecca. These alternatives indeed had been offered