FROM The Broadstone of Honor or, The true sense and practice of chivalry: by Kenelm Henry Digby (1876):

NOW, the religion of chivalry was altogether the religion of motives and of the heart. It was love, faith, hope, gratitude, joy, fidelity, honour, mercy; it was a devotion of mind and strength, of the whole man, of his soul and body, to the discharge of duty, and to the sacrifice of every selfish and dishonourable feeling that was contrary; it was to obey a commandment which was in unison with all the elevated sentiments of nature, and calculated most effectually to develop every quality that was the object of esteem and reverence. The knights of old had neither the inclination nor the ingenuity to determine the minimum of love which was compatible with the faith of Christ. They were not like men who regard it sufficient if they love God at any time before death, or on the festivals; or if they keep the commandments and do not hate God; or who imagine that this burdensome obligation of loving him was part of the Mosaic law, which is dispensed with by the religion of nature and the Gospel.

They had not learned to reason with the sophist of old, saying that religion “is a gracious and an excellent thing when moderately pursued in youth; but if afterwards it be loved overmuch, it is the ruin of men.” They had not subsided into that state of profound indifference to the truths of religion which the eloquent Massillon has compared to the condition of Lazarus, when the disciples said, “Lord, if he sleeps he will do well’; and were undeceived when Jesus said unto them plainly, ‘Lazarus is dead.” But their affections were warm, their gratitude was sincere; and though their understanding on the doctrines of religion might sometimes fail them, their hearts did not. They were thankful under every circumstance of life; and like the prophet of old, it was their boast, “The fig-tree shall not blossom, and there shall be no spring in the vines; the labour of the olive-tree shall fail, and the fields shall yield no food; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls; but I will rejoice in the Lord, and I will rejoice in God my Jesus.”

They were slain in battle, they were cut off in the flower of their youth, they were shut up in dark prisons from the light of the sun and from the solace of friendship; yet they could exult in the words of the Psalm, “Quid enim mihi est in coelo? et a te quid volui super terram? Deficit caro mea et cor meum: Deus cordis mei, et pars mea Deus in geternum.”

“Thenne,’ said Bors, “hit is more than yere and an half that I ne lay ten tymes where men dwelled, but in wylde forestes and in mountains, but God was ever my comforte.”

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