Nor can we be surprised at this ardour, when we consider all the advantages held out to the crusaders both in this world and in the next. They were exempted from all prosecution for debt, and from the payment of all interest thereon. They were freed from taxation; they were taken under the immediate protection of St. Peter; and all who vexed, perplexed, or impeded them in word, deed, or thought, were irrevocably damned. They obtained a plenary remission of all sins past and present, with immunity for future ones; and the gates of heaven were thrown open to them without any other claims on salvation than their having engaged in this expedition. The crusades moreover produced a great revolution in property; many of these adventurers selling their lands and inheritances at the lowest prices to equip themselves, while many of the nobles, perishing in the expedition, left their fiefs without heirs to increase the revenue and power of the crown. Thus was this glorious enterprise a fatal blow to feudality; and, when a few of these adventurers returned to their homes, they were so reduced by misery and corrected by misfortunes, that their unfortunate vassals entertained some dawning hopes of better days. These wanderers had travelled over more civilized parts, and brought back some faint notions of justice, humanity, and improvement. Another circumstance in the twelfth century not a little added to the progress of the human mind in search of amelioration. In 1137, when the imperial troops were plundering and sacking the town of Amalfi, a band of ruffians had found in some ruins an old book, the _illuminated_ pictures of which attracted their notice. The Emperor claimed this curiosity as his prize, having discovered that it was no less than a copy of the Pandects of Justinian; the which he presented as a valuable trophy to the city of Pisa, whence its contents were called “_Pandectæ Pisanæ_,” till, being borne away in turn by the Florentines, it was afterwards named “_Pandectæ Florentinæ_.”