Note 24 — Chapter VI · STRASBURG AND REUTLINGEN

Geyler von Kaisersperg was one of the most curious figures of the fifteenth century, a precursor of Luther, a ‘free preacher,’ and for the first twenty years of the sixteenth century his sermons were published by nearly every printer in Strasburg, as well as by many others in Basle and other towns.

Luther has a more extensive bibliography, but with Geyler each item means a volume, whereas the sermons of the great reformer were published as a rule separately, and as soon as they were preached. Like the celebrated Maillard, he did not hesitate to denounce the selfishness of the rich, the extravagance and coquetry of women, and the licentiousness and corruption of the clergy.

From a documentary point of view, Geyler’s sermons are most interesting, for in reprobating the follies of his time he gives a number of details concerning the manners of the period, which would be difficult to find elsewhere. On the verso, for instance, of the initial B, with David and his harp, there is a fragment of one of his discourses on ‘bathing,’ which gives a good idea of ecclesiastical proprieties at the end of the fifteenth century.

‘Is it,’ says Geyler, ‘allowable, balnea intrare, on Sunday?’

‘Dico,’ he replies, that ‘pro voluptate’ and ‘pro luxuria,’ it is forbidden at all times, but it is allowed on necessity.

By ‘voluptas’ he says, he understands ‘superfluous delectation,’ which is a sin but not mortal. By ‘necessity,’ honest and opportune recreation. He next asks, ‘Liceat clericis vel religiosis balnea intrare?’ Again he replies, ‘Dico, yes, upon necessity’; but necessity not only means infirmity, but also any lawful ‘refocillatio’ of the body. The apostle John, he says, ‘ingressus est balnea gratia lavandi.’ The first line of his tertio starts with the question as to whether it was licit to take a bath with a Jew, but here the cutting ends.

It must be remembered that in the fifteenth century, hot air and vapour baths were most popular, but they had anything but a good reputation. It is probable that the prohibitions of Geyler were directed rather against the place of evil resort, than, as would at first seem, against cleanliness.

But the most amusing of Geyler’s publications is a series of sermons, ‘Navicula sive speculum Fatuorum,’ an imitation of Brandt’s celebrated satire on Fools, which had recently appeared. In the earliest edition, each section begins with an initial representing a fool’s cap with large bells. In that before us, each sermon is preceded by an apposite illustration from the work in question, but there are no ornamental initials. The first concerns foolish aspirants for mitres and birettes. The second, which is illustrated by the well-known cut representing a spectacled fool in his library—in the original, the fool who collects books he does not read—here deals with bad judges and senators.

The best section, and that giving the best idea of Geyler’s manner, is that which treats of the sick fool. Beginning with the quotation ‘Stultorum infinitus est numerus,’ the picture shows the disobedient patient in bed, in the act of kicking over a table, whilst the nurse is looking on in astonishment, and the doctor seems to be reflecting as to what should be done under the circumstances.

These fools, says Geyler, are foolish in the first place because they despise medicine: ‘sunt qui medicinam prorsus contemnunt et abjiciunt’; ‘clearly fools,’ says Geyler, ‘stulti plane’! ‘Nescientes quia scriptum est, eccles. xxxviii., Altissimus creavit de terra medicinam, et vir prudens non horrebit eam. Notate verba—signate mysteria. Vir prudens non horrebit eam! Non horruit eam beatus Augustinus de quo legitur: quod egrotante eo neminem admiserat, nisi medicos.’

It will be too long to quote the whole sermon, but Geyler has a word to say about those fools, ‘sunt quædam fatuelle,’ who, out of curiosity, tried to catch their doctors at fault, ‘quas sola curiositas impellit et titillat ad explorandum peritiam medici.’ But they catch nothing but their own purses, and it is the doctor who is most tickled, for he pockets the fee. ‘Tales se decipiunt et bursam: quod medicus accipit pecuniam.’

He tells here the tale, so often related since, of the patient who in answer to the doctor’s question as to what was the matter with him—where he was in pain—how long he had been ill, ‘respondit nescio,’ and again and again, ‘respondit nescio.’

‘Bene,’ replied the doctor; ‘under these circumstances, this is my prescription: “Recipe nescio quid: repone nescio ubi: et sanaberis nescio quando.”’ ‘Magna stultitia,’ remarks Geyler, ‘nolle obedire medico quem queris: aut non quesivisses, et sic pecunie pepercisses.’

The fifth and sixth follies are to seek help from empirics, magicians, and Jews, which is expressly forbidden (if any one else is available) by the Decretals.