When Petrarch was crowned with laurel on the Capitol, the students of Paris were listening to Buridan's lectures on the pons asinorum. The event which was to serve future generations as the aptest symbol of the Renaissance coincided in time with the typical pursuits of Scholasticism; and by a similar paradox only three years separate the revolt of the Florentine popolo against Walter of Brienne from the battle of Crécy. The proper characterisation of the fourteenth century has therefore been a matter of dispute; and the question has been asked whether the epoch which produced both Ockham's razor and the Decameron belongs more typically to the end of the Middle Ages or the beginning of the Renaissance.

The historians who have sought to answer this question have commonly drawn attention to the dividing line of the Alps and presumed the existence of two distinct cultures, one to the south, the other to the north. We can, the argument runs, look upon the Renaissance as evolving in time. We can note how certain books were read, first by a few and then by many, how they were translated and interpreted, imitated and gradually absorbed into contemporary tradition. We can trace the history of techniques from their first introduction to their eventual acceptance as commonplace routines. We can follow the elaboration of particular ideas, which make their début as concepts in some specialised field and were then applied to other spheres of experience. We can note how the culture which we associate with the name of Petrarch became more complex and played a larger role in European life with each passing decade, how each year brought some fresh advance, some new development.