revival.[1] In the cathedral, collegiate, and monastic schools the
classics were still cultivated, though beyond doubt compilations were
used more frequently than were the original works; and even in the
darkest days of the dark ages some prominent ecclesiastics could be
found well versed at least in the language and literature of Rome. It
looked, too, for a time, as if the intellectual revival of the twelfth
century were to be turned towards the classics; but the example of men
like John of Salisbury was not followed generally, and the movement
developed rapidly in the direction of philosophy. As a consequence,
the study of Latin was neglected or relegated to a secondary place in
the schools, while Greek scholarship disappeared practically from
Western Europe. The Scholastics, more anxious about the logical
sequence of their arguments than about the beauties of literary
expression, invented for themselves a new dialect, which, however
forcible in itself, must have sounded barbarous to any one acquainted
with the productions of the golden age of Roman literature or even
with the writings of the early Fathers of the Latin Church. Nor was it
the language merely that was neglected. The monuments and memorials of
an earlier civilisation were disregarded, and even in Rome itself, the
City of the Popes, the vandalism of the ignorant wrought dreadful
havoc.

So complete a turning away from forces that had played such a part in
the civilisation of the world was certain to provoke a reaction.
Scholasticism could not hold the field for ever to the exclusion of
other branches of study, especially, since in the less competent hands
of its later expounders it had degenerated into an empty formalism.
The successors of St. Thomas and St. Bonaventure had little of their
originality, their almost universal knowledge, and their powers of
exposition, and, as a result, students grew tired of the endless