made no secret of his abhorrence; and, discontented with himself and others, he was always wishing himself elsewhere than where he was. Yet the courteous and amiable Boccaccio, who was accustomed to the refinement of a court, and who loved the elegance and gaiety of society, kept him under his roof for three years, humouring his whims, and studying in his company. Meanwhile his moral habits underwent a beneficial change, owing to the admonitions and example of Petrarch. [Sidenote: 1359. Ætat. 46.] He visited this excellent man at Milan, and spent several weeks in an intimate intercourse, which was of the greatest service to him to the end of his days. Petrarch, whose soul was purified by the struggles of his passion for a noble-minded woman, taught him that learning was of small avail to its possessor, unless combined with moral principle and virtuous habits. These conversations awoke in Boccaccio's mind a desire to vanquish his passions. He saw and loved the example of delicacy and honour set him by his friend; and although he could not all at once succeed in imitating him, he became aware of what his duties were: his conscience awoke, and a love of right was engendered, which enabled him, in process of time, to triumph over the habits and vices by which he had hitherto been enslaved. A singular circumstance achieved the work begun by his inestimable friend. Boccaccio's vivacious and sensitive mind could with difficulty be brought to act from the mere influence of reason. But the change which a love of moral truth and the dictates of good taste were inefficacious to operate, was brought about by the agency of superstition and fear. [Sidenote: 1361. Ætat. 48.] One day a Carthusian monk arrived at Certaldo, and demanded an interview with Boccaccio, who received him with kindness, and listened to him with attention. The monk first related, that there had lately lived in his convent at Siena a brother named Pietro Petroni, a man of singular piety, who was accustomed to pray with extreme fervour for the conversion of the wicked. On his death-bed he had called his companion, Giovacchino Ciani, to his bedside, and gave him various messages, to be delivered to a number of persons, to the purport that they should change their lives, and study how to be saved. As soon as the monk was dead, Ciani departed to fulfil his commission, and in the first place came to Certaldo. He then made an exposition of Boccaccio's errors, and above all of the wide-spreading evils occasioned by his writings, and which were a snare and a temptation to the young, imploring him to turn his talents, which he had hitherto exerted in the service of the spirit of evil, to the glory of God and the saints; telling him that he had been incited by a vain glory, which made him rather seek the applause of the world than the favour of his Creator; and what reward could he expect, except eternal punishment hereafter? "I do not spare your ears,"