“Deinde ubi prima grammaticae artis rudimenta percepit, sicut ab ipso in Dei omnipotentis gloriam hoc saepius ruminante didicimus, Prudentium poetam tradente magistro legere coepit. Qui sicut est et fide intentioneque catholicus, et eloquentia veritateque praecipuus, et metrorum librorumque varietate elegantissimus, tanta mox dulcedine palato cordis ejus complacuit, ut jam non tantum exteriorum verborum scientiam, verum intimi medullam sensus, et nectar ut ita dicam liquidissimum, majori quam dici possit aviditate hauriret. Postea nullum penitus erat studiorum liberalium genus in omni Graeca vel Latina eloquentia, quod ingenii sui vivacitatem aufugeret. Nec vero, ut solet, aut divitiarum affluentia, aut turbarum circumstrepentium assiduitas, aut ullum aliunde subrepens fastidium ab hoc nobili otio animum ejus unquam avertit.... Saepe inter Graecorum et Latinorum doctissimos de philosophiae sublimitate aut de cujuslibet in illa florentis disciplinae subtilitate disputantes doctus interpres medius ipse consedit, et disputantibus ad plausum omnium, quo nihil minus amaverat, satisfecit.”[243]

The gradual improvement in the writing of Latin in the Middle Ages, and the evolution of distinctive mediaeval styles, did not result from a larger acquaintance with the Classics, or a better knowledge of grammar and school rhetoric. The range of classical reading might extend, or from time to time contract, and Donatus and Priscian were used in the ninth century as well as in the twelfth. It is true that the study of grammar became more intelligent in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and its teachers deferred less absolutely to the old rules and illustrations. They recognized Christian standards of diction: first of all the Vulgate; next, early Christian poets like Prudentius; and then gradually the mediaeval versifiers who wrote and won approval in the twelfth century. Thus grammar sought to follow current usage.[244] This endeavour culminated at the close of the twelfth century in the Doctrinale of Alexander of Villa Dei.[245] Before this, much of the best mediaeval Latin prose and verse had been written, and the period most devoted to the Classics had come and was already waning. That period was this same twelfth century. During its earlier half, Latinity gained doubtless from such improvement in the courses of the Trivium as took place at Chartres, for example, an improvement connected with the intellectual growth of the time. But the increase in the knowledge of Latin was mainly such as a mature man may realize within himself, if he has kept up his Latin reading, however little he seem to have added to his knowledge since leaving his Alma Mater.

So the development of mediaeval Latin prose (and also verse) advanced with the maturing of mediaeval civilization. That which was at the same time a living factor in this growth and a result of it, was the more organic appropriation of the classical and Christian heritages of culture and religion. As intellectual faculties strengthened, and men drew power from the past, they gained facility in moulding their Latin to their purposes. Writings begin to reflect the personalities of the writers; the diction ceases to be that of clumsy or clever school compositions, and presents an evolution of tangible mediaeval styles. Henceforth, although a man be an eager student of the Classics, like John of Salisbury for example, and try to imitate their excellences, he will still write mediaeval Latin, and with a personal style if he be a strong personality. The classical models no longer trammel, but assist him to be more effectively himself on a higher plane.

If mediaeval civilization is to be regarded as that which the peoples of western Europe attained under the two universal influences of Christianity and antique culture, then nothing more mediaeval will be seen than mediaeval Latin. To make it, the antique Latin had been modified and reinspired and loosed by the Christian energies of the Fathers; and had then passed on to peoples who never had been, or no longer were, antique. They barbarized the language down to the rudeness of their faculties. As they themselves advanced, they brought up Latin with them, as it were, from the depths of the ninth and tenth centuries, but a Latin which in the crude natures of these men had been stripped of classical quality; a Latin barbarous and naked, and ready to be clothed upon with novel qualities which should make it a new creature. Throughout all this process, while Latin was sinking and re-emerging, it was worked upon and inspired by the spirit of the uses to which it was predominantly applied, which were those of the Roman Catholic Church and of the intimacies of the Christian soul, pressing to expression in the learned tongue which they were transforming.

In considering the Latin writings of the Middle Ages one should bear in mind the differences between Italy and the North with respect to the ancient language. These were important through the earlier Middle Ages, when modes of diction sufficiently characteristic to be called styles, were forming. The men of Latin-sodden Italy might have a fluent Latin when those of the North still had theirs to learn. Thus there were Italians in the eleventh century who wrote quite a distinctive Latin prose.[246] Among them were St. Peter Damiani, and St. Anselm of Aosta, Bec, and Canterbury.

The former died full of virtue in the year 1072. We have elsewhere observed his character and followed his career.[247] He was, to his great anxiety, a classical scholar, who had earned large sums as a teacher of rhetoric before natural inclination and fears for his soul drove him to an ascetic life. He was a master of the Latin which he used. His style is intense, eloquent, personal to himself as well as suited to his matter, and reflects his ardent character and keen perceptions. The following is a rhetorical yet beautiful description of a “last leaf,” taken from one of his compositions in praise of the hermit way of salvation.

“Videamus in arbore folium sub ipsis pruinis hiemalibus lapsabundum, et consumpto autumnalis clementiae virore, jamjam pene casurum, ita ut vix ramusculo, cui dependet, inhaereat, sed apertissima levis ruinae signa praetendat: inhorrescunt flabra, venti furentes hic inde concutiunt, brumalis horror crassi aeris rigore densatur: atque, ut magis stupeas, defluentibus reliquis undique foliis terra sternitur, et depositis comis arbor suo decore nudatur; cum illud solum nullo manente permaneat, et velut cohaeredum superstes in fraternae possessionis jura succedat. Quid autem intelligendum in hujus rei consideratione relinquitur, nisi quia nec arboris folium potest cadere, nisi divinum praesumat imperium?”[248]

Anselm’s diction, in spite of its frequent cloister rhetoric, has a simple and modern word-order. An account has already been given of his life and of his thoughts, so beautifully sky-blue, unpurpled with the crimson of human passion, which made the words of Augustine more veritably incandescent.[249] The great African was the strongest individual influence upon Anselm’s thought and language. But the latter’s style has departed further from the classical sentence, and of itself indicates that the writer belongs neither to the patristic period nor to the Carolingian time, busied with its rearrangement of patristic thought. The following is from his Proslogion upon the existence of God. Through this discourse, Deity and the Soul are addressed in the second person after the manner of Augustine’s Confessions.

“Excita nunc, anima mea, et erige totum intellectum tuum, et cogita quantum potes quale et quantum sit illud bonum (i.e. Deus). Si enim singula bona delectabilia sunt, cogita intente quam delectabile sit illud bonum quod continet jucunditatem omnium bonorum; et non qualem in rebus creatis sumus experti, sed tanto differentem quanto differt Creator a creatura. Si enim bona est vita creata, quam bona est vita creatrix! Si jucunda est salus facta, quam jucunda est salus quae fecit omnem salutem! Si amabilis est sapientia in cognitione rerum conditarum, quam amabilis est sapientia quae omnia condidit ex nihilo! Denique, si multae et magnae delectationes sunt in rebus delectabilibus, qualis et quanta delectatio est in illo qui fecit ipsa delectabilia!”[250]

In a more emotional passage Anselm arouses in his soul the terror of the Judgment. It is from a “Meditatio”: