continued the zealous Ciani, "and am the less scrupulous, because Petroni speaks through me, who is now looking down from heaven upon us. Therefore, in the words of that blessed man, I exhort, entreat, and command you to change your sinful course of life, to cast aside your poetical studies, and to become a disciple and inculcator of divine truth. If you refuse to obey my voice, I predict, in his name, a miserable end to your depravity, and a speedier death than you anticipate; so that your profane studies and life shall at once be brought to an end;" and to add the force of supernatural revelation to his words, he communicated to Boccaccio several events of his life, which he presumed to be only known to himself, but which had been revealed to the monk by Petroni; and then he took his leave, saying, that he was about to fulfil a similar mission to several others, and that among them he should visit Petrarch. Boccaccio was aghast. Superstitious fear shook his soul; he gave credulous ear to what he was told, and resolved to give himself up to sacred studies and penitence. His first impulse was to sell his library and to abandon poetry altogether: meanwhile he communicated the visit he had received, and the effect that it had on him, to his dear friend and monitor, Petrarch. Petrarch had subjected himself, during all his life, to moral discipline; he was a self-seeker and a self-reprover. He was not so easily shaken from the calm tenor of his piety and faith by prognostics and denunciations; he replied to his friend in a letter full of good sense and kind feeling. In those days a letter was a treatise; ancient history was ransacked, and the whole learning of the writer poured out in a torrent. But there are passages which deserve to be quoted. "Falsehood and imposture," he wrote, "often disguise themselves in the habit of religion; but I will not pronounce any decided opinion till I have seen the messenger. The age of the man, his countenance, eyes, manners, gestures, his voice and words, and, above all, the sum and purport of what he says, will serve to enlighten me. It is announced to you that you have but a short time to live, and that you must renounce poetry and profane literature. These words at first filled me with consternation and grief. How could I anticipate your death without tears? But, on further reflection, I am led to consider that you look with terror and regret on what ought really to be a matter of rejoicing, for thus you are detached from the world, and brought, as we all ought, to meditate upon death, and to aspire to that height where no worldly temptation intrudes to contaminate the soul. You will learn from these admonitions to control your passions, and to reform your habits of life. But I exhort you not to abandon hooks and learning, which nauseate and injure the weak only, but which invigorate and comfort the strong-minded."