This was particularly true of some of the Humanists. At first sight,
indeed, it is difficult to understand why the revival of classical
learning should lead to the danger of the rejection of Christian
Revelation, seeing that the appreciation of the great literary
products of Greece and Rome, and that, even in the days of the
Renaissance, the Popes and the bishops were reckoned amongst the most
generous patrons of the classical movement. Yet the violence of
extreme partisans on both sides rendered a conflict almost
unavoidable.

On the one hand, many of the classical enthusiasts, not content with
winning for their favourite studies a most important place on the
programmes of the schools, were determined to force on the Christian
body the ideals, the culture, and the outlook on the world, which
found their best expression in the masterpieces of pagan literature;
while, on the other, not a few of the champions of Scholastic
Philosophy seemed to have convinced themselves that Scholasticism and
Christianity were identified so closely that rejection or criticism of
the former must imply disloyalty to the latter. The Humanists mocked
at the Scholastics and dubbed them obscurantists on account of their
barbarous Latinity, their uncritical methods, and their pointless
wranglings; the Scholastics retorted by denouncing their opponents as
pagans, or, at least, heretics. In this way the claims of religion
were drawn into the arena, and, as neither the extreme Scholastics nor
the extreme Humanists had learned to distinguish between dogmas and
systems, between what was essential and what was tentative, there was
grave danger that religion would suffer in the eyes of educated men on
account of the crude methods of those who claimed to be its authorised
exponents.