The streets of Jerusalem were covered with dead bodies. The triumphant warriors, after every enemy was subdued and slaughtered, turned themselves, with sentiments of humiliation and contrition, towards the holy sepulchre. They threw aside their arms, still streaming with blood; they advanced with reclined bodies and naked feet and heads to that sacred monument; they sung anthems to Him who had purchased their salvation by His death and agony; and their devotion, enlivened by the presence of the place where He had suffered, so overcame their fury, that they dissolved in tears, and bore the appearance of every soft and tender sentiment. So inconsistent is human nature with itself, and so easily does the most effeminate superstition ally both with the most heroic courage and with the fiercest barbarity!’ With a becoming foresight, the Crusaders established a Christian kingdom in the heart of Palestine; and at the head of it, by universal consent was placed Godfrey, whose goodness and justice had signalized him, and gained him respect in the midst of the general wickedness. The pope, however, was too eager to enjoy the triumph to which he had looked forward, and sending an ignorant and obtruding ecclesiastic to assume this command, Godfrey retired; and thus was lost undoubtedly the best chance that Europeans ever had of really posessing the Holy Land. The Turks had now time to recover their strength and renew their attacks: they did so: many of the Crusaders had in the meantime returned home, and those of them who remained, surrounded and menaced by such foes, at last implored aid from Christendom. There the spirit which had been raised by Peter the Hermit was far from being extinguished; and another, more eloquent and more learned than Peter――namely, St. Bernard――had arisen to keep alive the flame of devotion. Roused by his preachings, Europe sent forth a second Crusade (1147). It consisted of 200,000 French, Germans, and English, in two divisions, the first led on by Conrad III of Germany, and the second by Louis VII of France. Strangely enough, both these leaders permitted themselves to be drawn into a snare by false guides, furnished by the Greek emperor; and both armies, one after another, were withdrawn amidst the rocks of Laodicea, and after being nearly starved by famine, they were cut to pieces by the Sultan of Iconium. This Crusade proved the most disastrous of them all. ‘Thousands of ruined families,’ says Russell, ‘exclaimed against St. Bernard for his deluding prophecies: he excused himself by the example of Moses, who, like him, he said, had promised to conduct the Israelites into a happy country, and yet saw the first generation perish in the desert.’