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Florence。 At the age of fifteen he was sent to Montpellier
in France that he might become a lawyer like his father。 But
the boy did not want to be a jurist。 He hated the law。 He
wanted to be a scholar and a poetand because he wanted to
be a scholar and a poet beyond everything else； he became one；
as people of a strong will are apt to do。 He made long
voyages； copying manuscripts in Flanders and in the cloisters
along the Rhine and in Paris and Liege and finally in Rome。
Then he went to live in a lonely valley of the wild mountains
of Vaucluse； and there he studied and wrote and soon he had
become so famous for his verse and for his learning that both
the University of Paris and the king of Naples invited him
to come and teach their students and subjects。 On the way
to his new job； he was obliged to pass through Rome。 The
people had heard of his fame as an editor of half…forgotten
Roman authors。 They decided to honour him and in the
ancient forum of the Imperial City； Petrarch was crowned with
the laurel wreath of the Poet。
From that moment on； his life was an endless career of
honour and appreciation。 He wrote the things which people
wanted most to hear。 They were tired of theological
disputations。 Poor Dante could wander through hell as much as
he wanted。 But Petrarch wrote of love and of nature and the
sun and never mentioned those gloomy things which seemed
to have been the stock in trade of the last generation。 And
when Petrarch came to a city； all the people flocked out to
meet him and he was received like a conquering hero。 If he
happened to bring his young friend Boccaccio； the story teller；
with him； so much the better。 They were both men of their
time； full of curiosity； willing to read everything once； digging
in forgotten and musty libraries that they might find still another
manuscript of Virgil or Ovid or Lucrece or any of the
other old Latin poets。 They were good Christians。 Of course
they were！ Everyone was。 But no need of going around with
a long face and wearing a dirty coat just because some day
or other you were going to die。 Life was good。 People were
meant to be happy。 You desired proof of this？ Very well。
Take a spade and dig into the soil。 What did you find？
Beautiful old statues。 Beautiful old vases。 Ruins of ancient
buildings。 All these things were made by the people of the
greatest empire that ever existed。 They ruled all the world
for a thousand years。 They were strong and rich and handsome
（just look at that bust of the Emperor Augustus！）。 Of
course； they were not Christians and they would never be
able to enter Heaven。 At best they would spend their days
in purgatory； where Dante had just paid them a visit。
But who cared？ To have lived in a world like that of
ancient Rome was heaven enough for any mortal being。 And
anyway； we live but once。 Let us be happy and cheerful for
the mere joy of existence。
Such； in short； was the spirit that had begun to fill the
narrow and crooked streets of the many little Italian cities。
You know what we mean by the ‘‘bicycle craze'' or the
‘‘automobile craze。'' Some one invents a bicycle。 People who
for hundreds of thousands of years have moved slowly and
painfully from one place to another go ‘‘crazy'' over the prospect
of rolling rapidly and easily over hill and dale。 Then
a clever mechanic makes the first automobile。 No longer is it
necessary to pedal and pedal and pedal。 You just sit and
let little drops of gasoline do the work for you。 Then everybody
wants an automobile。 Everybody talks about Rolls…
Royces and Flivvers and carburetors and mileage and oil。 Explorers
penetrate into the hearts of unknown countries that
they may find new supplies of gas。 Forests arise in Sumatra
and in the Congo to supply us with rubber。 Rubber and oil
become so valuable that people fight wars for their possession。
The whole world is ‘‘automobile mad'' and little children can
say ‘‘car'' before they learn to whisper ‘‘papa'' and ‘‘mamma。''
In the fourteenth century； the Italian people went crazy
about the newly discovered beauties of the buried world of
Rome。 Soon their enthusiasm was shared by all the people of
western Europe。 The finding of an unknown manuscript became
the excuse for a civic holiday。 The man who wrote a
grammar became as popular as the fellow who nowadays invents
a new spark…plug。 The humanist； the scholar who devoted his
time and his energies to a study of ‘‘homo'' or mankind （instead
of wasting his hours upon fruitless theological investigations）；
that man was regarded with greater honour and a deeper respect
than was ever bestowed upon a hero who had just conquered
all the Cannibal Islands。
In the midst of this intellectual upheaval； an event occurred
which greatly favoured the study of the ancient philosophers
and authors。 The Turks were renewing their attacks upon
Europe。 Constantinople； capital of the last remnant of the
original Roman Empire； was hard pressed。 In the year 1393
the Emperor； Manuel Paleologue； sent Emmanuel Chrysoloras
to western Europe to explain the desperate state of old Byzantium
and to ask for aid。 This aid never came。 The Roman
Catholic world was more than willing to see the Greek Catholic
world go to the punishment that awaited such wicked heretics。
But however indifferent western Europe might be to the fate
of the Byzantines； they were greatly interested in the ancient
Greeks whose colonists had founded the city on the Bosphorus
ten centuries after the Trojan war。 They wanted to learn
Greek that they might read Aristotle and Homer and Plato。
They wanted to learn it very badly； but they had no books and
no grammars and no teachers。 The magistrates of Florence
heard of the visit of Chrysoloras。 The people of their city
were ‘‘crazy to learn Greek。'' Would he please come and
teach them？ He would； and behold！ the first professor of
Greek teaching alpha； beta； gamma to hundreds of eager young
men； begging their way to the city of the Arno； living in stables
and in dingy attics that they night learn how to decline the verb
and enter into the companionship of
Sophocles and Homer。
Meanwhile in the universities； the old schoolmen； teaching
their ancient theology and their antiquated logic； explaining
the hidden mysteries of the old Testament and discussing the
strange science of their Greek…Arabic…Spanish…Latin edition of
Aristotle； looked on in dismay and horror。 Next； they turned
angry。 This thing was going too far。 The young men were
deserting the lecture halls of the established universities to
go and listen to some wild…eyed ‘‘humanist'' with his newfangled
notions about a ‘‘reborn civilization。''
They went to the authorities。 They complained。 But one
cannot force an unwilling horse to drink and one cannot
make unwilling ears listen to something which does not really
interest them。 The schoolmen were losing ground rapidly。 Here
an