Our examples thus far belong to the twelfth century. As touching its successor, it will be interesting to observe the qualities of two opposite kinds of writing, the one springing from the intellectual activities, and the other from the religious awakening, of the time. In the thirteenth century, scientific and scholastic writing was of representative importance, and deeply affected the development of Latin prose. Very different in style were the Latin stories and vitae of the blessed Francis of Assist and other saints, composed in Italy.
Roger Bacon, of whom there will be much to say, composed most of his extant works about the year 1267.[1] His language is often rough and involved, from his impetuosity and eagerness to utter what was in him. But it is always vigorous. He took pains to say just what he meant, and what was worth saying; and frequently rewrote his sentences. His writings show little rhetoric; yet they are stamped with a Baconian style, which has a cumulative force. The word-order is modern with scarcely a trace of the antique. Perhaps we may say that he wrote Latin like an Englishman of vehement temper and great intellect. He is powerful in continuous exposition; yet instances of his general, and very striking statements, will illustrate his diction at its best. In the following sentence he recognizes the progressiveness of knowledge, a rare idea in the Middle Ages:
- ↑ Post, Chapter XLI.
were putting forth all their strength, and the wretched pilot was paying slack attention to steering his course over the gulf, upon a great rock which daily is uncovered by the ebbing wave and again is covered when the sea is at flood, the left side of White Ship struck violently, and with two timbers smashed, all unexpectedly the ship, alas ! was capsized. All cried out together in such a catastrophe ; but the water quickly filling their mouths, they perished alike. Two only cast their hands upon the boom from which hung the sail, and clinging to it a great part of the night, waited for some aid. One was a butcher of Rouen named Berold, and the other a well-born lad named Geoffrey, son of Gislebert of Aquila.
"The moon was then at its nineteenth in the sign of the Bull, and lighted the earth for nearly nine hours with its beams, making the sea bright for navigators. Captain Thomas after his first submersion regained his strength, and bethinking himself, pushed his head above the waves, and seeing the heads of those clinging to some piece of wood, asked, 'What has become of the king's son?' When the shipwrecked answered that he had perished with all his companions, 'Miserable,' said he, 'is my life henceforth.' Saying this, and evilly despairing, he chose to sink there, rather than meet the fury of the king enraged for the destruction of his child, or undergo long punishment in chains."
