religion. It is true that his private life did not always correspond
to Christian principles of morality, and it is equally true that at
times his patriotism led him to speak harshly of the rule of the Popes
in Italy and Rome; but he never wavered in his religious convictions,
and never recognised that Pagan literature and ideals should be judged
by other than current Christian standards.

The example of Petrarch was not followed, however, by several of the
later Humanists. His friend and disciple, Boccaccio (1313-75),
imitated his master in his love for the classics and in his zeal for
classical culture, and excelled him by acquiring, what Petrarch had
failed utterly to acquire, a good knowledge of Greek. Like Petrarch,
he was assisted largely by the Popes, and took service at the papal
court. But his views of life and morality were coloured by Paganism
rather than by Christianity. Many of his minor poems are steeped in
indecency and immorality, and reflect only too clearly the tendency to
treachery and deceit so characteristic of the Italian rulers of his
day; while the /Decameron/, his greatest work, is more like the
production of a Pagan writer than of one acquainted with Christian
ethics and ideals. He delighted in lampooning the clergy, particularly
the monks, charging them with ignorance, immorality, and hypocrisy.
Such a line of conduct was not likely to recommend the apostles of the
new learning to the admirers of Scholasticism, nor to create and
foster a friendly alliance between the two camps. Yet, personally,
Boccaccio was not an enemy of Christianity, and never aimed, as did
some of the later Humanists, at reviving Paganism under the guise of
promoting literature. He was unshaken in his acceptance of the
Christian revelation, and, as the years advanced, he began to realise
the evil of his ways and the dangerous character of his writings.
Strange to say, it was to a body of the monks, whom he delighted in