Post-Mediæval Preachers: Some Account of the Most Celebrated Preachers of the 15th, 16th, & 17th Centuries

In Short

This collection explores the often-overlooked history of European preachers from the fifteenth to the seventeenth centuries. By analyzing the lives and rhetorical strategies of figures like Gabriel Biel, Matthias Faber, and Joseph de Barzia, the book illuminates a period when sermons were the primary medium for public intellectual and spiritual life. It serves as both a biographical dictionary and a critical study of how these men used metaphor, allegory, and narrative to bridge the divide between divine doctrine and the daily lives of their congregations.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book begins with an inquiry into the nature of the Christian sermon itself. Establishing the Sermon on the Mount as the gold standard of oratory—where objective divine truth meets subjective human experience—the text contrasts this model with the more singular, often narrow focus of earlier prophets. From this starting point, the work moves chronologically and thematically through three centuries, observing a fluctuating evolution in preaching styles.

The fifteenth century, as depicted, is a landscape of decline for the pulpit. The author describes a period marked by "hedge-priests" and friars who, suffering from a lack of formal education and the corruption of their institutions, often resorted to burlesque and grotesque displays to hold the attention of a weary public. We see preachers who rely on crude, sometimes absurd, anecdotes—such as comparing the world’s instability to a globule of quicksilver or the back of a whale—to shock their listeners into focus. The story of this era is one of a desperate, often misguided attempt to remain relevant in a world where intellectual rigor had been sidelined.

However, the trajectory of the book shifts as it moves into the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, signaling a revival of refinement and structural depth. The author introduces figures like De Barzia and Osorius, who replace the coarse, disjointed anecdotes of the past with sophisticated, imaginative similes. We follow the development of a more systematic approach to preaching, where complex parables are broken down into precise, logical divisions—anagogic, allegorical, and moral—meant to elevate the soul by degrees.

The argument culminates in a portrait of Matthias Faber, who represents the pinnacle of this pedagogical style. Faber is presented as a master of variety, capable of balancing profound theological debate with practical, accessible instruction for the common citizen. The book concludes by demonstrating that while many of these sermons are too lengthy or structurally alien for a modern audience to replicate, they contain a wealth of spiritual material. The final impression is not one of a dead past, but of a rich, uneven, and fascinating history of how human beings have attempted to articulate the divine. By cataloging these methods—from the "bloody footprints" of the cross to the "crystalline pools" of the soul—the text provides a comprehensive map of the preacher’s craft across three transformative centuries of Western history.

How It Unfolds

The foundation of the pulpit The journey begins by defining the ideal sermon, using the Sermon on the Mount as the definitive model for balancing doctrine and moral exhortation. It rejects the singular, narrow focus of ancient prophets in favor of a "ladder" approach, which connects God’s transcendence to human life.

The descent into the grotesque The narrative examines the decline of preaching during the fifteenth century, where lack of education led many clergy to rely on bizarre spectacles and vulgar displays. It provides a vivid, firsthand account of a sermon delivered near Tivoli, illustrating how theatricality began to supersede spiritual substance.

The shift toward refinement The middle section identifies a turning point in the sixteenth century, as thinkers like De Barzia and Osorius introduce a more elevated, imaginative use of metaphor. This transition marks the move away from coarse, disjointed storytelling toward a structured, intellectual pursuit of theological truth.

The architect of the sermon The focus settles on Matthias Faber, whose work serves as a case study for the systematic sermon. His exhaustive methods for organizing and delivering discourses illustrate the shift toward a more professionalized, versatile form of pastoral instruction.

A legacy of spiritual imagery The final movement synthesizes the contributions of these preachers, showcasing their most poignant imagery—such as the Wounded Side or the heart as a garden. It invites the reader to extract the enduring wisdom from these archaic structures, acknowledging their imperfections while celebrating their deep, spiritual resonance.

The People

Gabriel Biel and Jean Raulin represent the early, transitionary figures, setting the stage for a period where formal theology began to struggle with the demands of popular communication. Their work reflects the tensions of a Church in flux, bridging the gap between scholastic tradition and the need for emotional resonance.

Matthias Faber stands as the book’s intellectual anchor. He is portrayed as a man of immense productivity, whose hundreds of sermons demonstrate a remarkable ability to tailor his message—debating high divinity in the university, yet speaking with simple, practical clarity to the common citizen. He remains the most balanced figure in the study.

Joseph de Barzia and John Osorius appear as the artists of the pulpit. They are distinguished by their refinement and their masterful use of imagination. Unlike the preachers of the previous century, they use language not to shock, but to paint vivid, devotional pictures that guide the listener through the complexities of faith.

The author also provides a gallery of minor, often nameless figures: the "hedge-priests" and wandering friars. These characters represent the obstacles to true spiritual oratory, serving as cautionary examples of what happens when intellectual integrity is abandoned for the sake of mere performance.

In Its Own Voice

“They teach us, also, to sigh for heavenly beatitude, and the society of the blessed.”

This line, reflective of the author’s appreciation for the aspirational nature of the older sermons, encapsulates the central desire he finds in the preachers he studies.

“The history of preaching begins with the first sermon ever delivered, the first and the best, that of our blessed Lord on the mount in Galilee.”

This statement serves as the author's benchmark for evaluating every subsequent sermon he analyzes throughout the volume.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book investigates the relationship between the messenger and the message. It asks how one can possibly communicate the infinite—the nature of God and the soul—through the finite and messy tools of human language and social performance. The work argues that the history of preaching is a continuous struggle against two primary failings: the sterility of academic abstraction and the vulgarity of populist entertainment. By examining how these centuries-old preachers navigated these extremes, the text poses a persistent, underlying question: how does a speaker remain true to a sacred, unchanging doctrine while speaking to a changing, unpredictable audience? The argument is not that these men had all the answers, but that their persistence in finding new metaphors for the soul is a vital, ongoing human endeavor.

Why Read It Today

This book is a quiet, contemplative companion for those interested in the history of ideas, the mechanics of rhetoric, or the evolution of the Church's public voice. Readers who appreciate the slow, methodical unpacking of historical documents will find much to admire here. It is not a quick read; the prose is formal, reflecting the scholarly standards of 1865, and the excerpts from the sermons can be quite dense and occasionally repetitive, echoing the "intolerable length" the author himself acknowledges.

You will encounter archaic patterns of thought and a worldview deeply rooted in religious dogma, which may feel distant or challenging depending on your own perspective. However, the reward lies in the author's warmth. He is a guide who genuinely loves his subject, treating these forgotten preachers with a mixture of critical precision and profound empathy. He does not shy away from their failures—their occasional bombast or their confusing allegories—but he shines a light on the moments where they transcend their time. If you have ever wondered about the power of the spoken word to shape a culture, or if you simply enjoy the act of rediscovering voices that were once central to life but have since faded into silence, this volume offers a rewarding, if demanding, archival experience.