As characterizations of historical epochs, few concepts have proved as slippery as renaissance and reformation. That humanists and reformers staked out the boundaries of the modern world in culture, beliefs and institutions is a view now condemned as, at best, selective historical hindsight or, at worst, a grievous misunderstanding of their own intentions. The most obvious handicap to such an interpretation is the overt tension between those who championed man's innate reason and human achievements, and those who rejected man as in himself utterly worthless and helpless before God, a conflict epitomized in the debate between Erasmus and Luther over free will. The problems of interpretation recede, however, if we are willing to allow, on the one hand, a greater diversity in the application, if not always the programme, of humanism, and, on the other, more continuity between humanism and reform than earlier accounts have suggested. Peter Burke makes the obvious, yet essential, points that Italy was not culturally homogeneous; that cultural transfer need not solely be in one direction; and that the reception of renaissance values in art and letters was significantly mediated by local circumstances. 1 That is particularly true of art and architecture where, to take Venice, 'renaissance art' was essentially a fusion of late gothic and early baroque, with a heavy admixture of Byzantine influences, 2 or, in the case of Germany, where only Diirer fully succeeded in freeing his art from late gothic conventions. In Scandinavia and eastern Europe, too, much of what passed for renaissance architecture was often classical ornament bolted on to indigenous styles. 3 In broader terms, what contributed to the diversity of humanist reception beyond the romance world north of the Alps was above all its characteristic emphasis on lay education through the vernacular. The Latin universalism of Erasmus was quickly overtaken by a reinforced sense of national