memories of an earlier civilisation and culture opposed in many
particulars to the genius of Christianity, and the return of nature
tended to push into the background the supernatural idea upon which
the Christian religion is based. But the revival did more. The study
of the classics brought into prominence serious problems regarding the
authenticity, age, and value of certain writings and manuscripts, and
by so doing it created a spirit of criticism and of doubt for which
the Theologians of the day were but poorly prepared. In a word, it was
a period of transition and of intellectual unrest, when new ideals in
education were endeavouring to supplant the old ones, and when neither
the friends of the old nor of the new had distinguished clearly
between what was essential in Christianity and what was purely
accidental.

In such a time it was to be expected that ardent Humanists, filled
with their new-born zeal for classical studies, should advance too
rapidly, and by confounding religion with the crude methods of some of
its defenders should jump to the conclusion that a reconciliation
between the revival and religion was impossible. Nor should it be a
matter of surprise that the Theologians, confident in the strength of
their own position and naturally suspicious of intellectual novelties,
were not inclined to look with favour on a movement which owed its
inspiration largely to Pagan sources. Moderate men, on the contrary,
whether Humanists or Scholastics, aimed at a complete reconciliation.
They realised that the great literary and scientific revival could do
much for the defence of religion, and that the Pagan classics must be
appraised according to Christian standards.

But this work of reconciliation was rendered very difficult by the
attitude of extremists on both sides. Many of the Italian Humanists,