had been accepted by the Parliament in its resistance to the claim which
Pope Urban V. had made in 1366, to the arrears of tribute due under
John's vassalage. Edward III. had referred this claim to Parliament, and
the Parliament had rejected it without hesitation on the ground that
John had no power to bind the realm without its consent. The Parliament
was the mere mouthpiece of Wyclif, who was now actively engaged in
political life, and probably, as Dr. Lechler thinks, had a seat in
Parliament. He was, at any rate, a very prominent political character;
for he was sent in 1374 to Bruges, as one of the commissioners to treat
with the representatives of the French pope in reference to the
appointment of foreigners to the rich benefices of the Church in
England, which gave great offence to the liberal and popular party in
England,--for there was such a progressive party as early as the
fourteenth century, although it did not go by that name, and was not
organized as parties are now. In fact, in all ages and countries there
are some men who are before their contemporaries. The great grievance of
which the more advanced and enlightened complained was the interference
of the Pope with ecclesiastical livings in England. Wyclif led the
opposition to this usurpation; and this opposition to the Pope on the
part of a churchman made it necessary for him to have a protector
powerful enough to shield him from papal vengeance.
This protector he found in John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, who, next
to the King, had the greatest authority in England. It is probable that
Wyclif enjoyed at Bruges the friendship of this great man (great for his
station, influence, and birth, at least), who was at the head of the
opposition to the papal claims,--resisted not only by him, but by
Parliament, which seems to have been composed of men in advance of their
age. As early as 1371 this Parliament had petitioned the King to exclude
all ecclesiastics from the great offices of State, held almost
exclusively by them as the most able and learned people of the realm.
From the time of Alfred this custom had not been seriously opposed by
the baronial lords, who were ignorant and unenlightened; but in the
fourteenth century light had broken in upon the darkness: the day had at
least dawned, and the absurdity of confining the cares of State and
temporal matters to men who ought to be absorbed with spiritual duties
alone was seen by the more enlightened of the laity. But the King was
not then prepared to part with the most efficient of his ministers
because they happened to be ecclesiastics, and the custom continued for
nearly two centuries longer. Bishop Williams was the last of the clergy
who filled the great office of chancellor, and Archbishop Laud was the
last of the clergy who became a prime minister. The reign of Elizabeth
was marked, for the first time in the history of England, by the almost
total exclusion of prelates from great secular offices. In the reign of
Edward III. it was William of Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester,
who held the great seal, and the Bishop of Exeter who was lord
treasurer,--probably the two men in the whole realm who were the most
experienced in public affairs as men of business. Wyclif, it would
appear, although he was an ecclesiastic, here took the side of
Parliament against his own order. In his treatise on the "Regimen of the
Church" he contends that neither doctors nor deacons should hold secular
offices, or even be land stewards and clerks of account, and appeals to
the authority of the Fathers and Saint Paul in confirmation of his
views. At this time he was a doctor of divinity and professor of
theology in the University, having been promoted to this high position
in 1372, two years before he was sent as commissioner to Bruges. In
1375, he was presented to the rectory of Lutterworth in Leicestershire
by the Crown, in reward for his services as an ambassador.
In 1376 Parliament renewed its assault on pontifical pretensions and
exactions; and there was cause, since twenty thousand marks, or pounds,
were sent annually to Rome from the Pope's collector in England, which
collector was a Frenchman,--another indignity. Against these corruptions
and usurpations Wyclif was unsparing in his denunciations; and the
hierarchy at last were compelled, by their allegiance to Rome, to take
measures to silence and punish him as a pertinacious heretic. The term
"heretic" meant in those days opposition to papal authority, as much as
opposition to the theological dogmas of the Church; and the brand of
heresy was the greatest stigma which authority could impose. The bold
denunciator of papal abuses was now in danger. He was summoned by the
convocation to appear in Saint Paul's Cathedral and answer for his
heresies, on which occasion were present the Archbishop of Canterbury
and the arrogant Bishop of London,--the latter the son of the Earl of
Devonshire, of the great family of the Courtenays. Wyclif was attended
by the Duke of Lancaster and the Earl Marshal,--Henry Percy, the
ancestor of the Dukes of Northumberland,--who forced themselves into the
Lady's chapel, behind the high altar, where the prelates were assembled.
An uproar followed from this unusual intrusion of the two most powerful
men of the kingdom into the very sanctuary of prelatic authority. What
could be done when the great Oxford professor--the most learned
Scholastic of the kingdom--was protected by a royal duke clothed with
viceregal power, and the Earl Marshal armed with the sword of State?
The position of Wyclif was as strong as it was before he was attacked.
Nor could he be silenced except by the authority of the Pope
himself,--still acknowledged as the supreme lord of Christendom; and the
Pope now felt that he must assert his supremacy and interpose his
supreme authority, or lose his hold on England. So he hurled his
weapons, not yet impotent, and fulminated his bulls, ordering the
University, under penalty of excommunication, to deliver the daring
heretic into the hands of the Archbishop of Canterbury or the Bishop of
London; and further commanding these two prelates to warn the King
against the errors of Wyclif, and to examine him as to his doctrines,
and keep him in chains until the Pope's pleasure should be further
known. In addition to these bulls, the Pope sent one to the King
himself. It was resolved that the work should be thoroughly done this
time. Yet it would appear that these various bulls threatening an
interdict did not receive a welcome from any quarter. The prelates did
not wish to quarrel with such an antagonist as the Duke of Lancaster,
who was now the chief power in the State, the King being in his last
illness. They allowed several months to pass before executing their
commission, during which Wyclif was consulted by the great Council of
State whether they should allow money to be carried out of the realm at
the Pope's demands, and he boldly declared that they should not; thus
coming in direct antagonism with hierarchal power. He also wrote at this
time pamphlets vindicating himself from the charges made against him,
asserting the invalidity of unjust excommunication, which, if allowed,
would set the Pope above God.
At last, after seven months, the prelates took courage, and ordered the
University to execute the papal bulls. To imprison Wyclif at the command
of the Pope would be to allow the Pope's temporal rule in England; yet
to disobey the bulls would be disregard of the papal power altogether.
In this dilemma the Vice-Chancellor--himself a monk--ordered a nominal
imprisonment. The result of these preliminary movements was that Wyclif
appeared at Lambeth before the Archbishop, to answer his accusers. The
great prelates had a different spirit from the University, which was
justly proud of its most learned doctor,--a man, too, beyond his age in
his progressive spirit, for the universities in those days were not so
conservative as they subsequently became. At Lambeth Wyclif found
unexpected support from the people of London, who broke into the
archiepiscopal chapel and interrupted the proceedings, and a still more
efficient aid from the Queen Dowager,--the Princess Joan,--who sent a
message forbidding any sentence against Wyclif. Thus was he backed by
royal authority and the popular voice, as Luther was afterwards in
Saxony. The prelates were overcome with terror, and dropped the
proceedings; while the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford, who had tardily and
imperfectly obeyed the Pope, was cast into prison for a time and
compelled to resign his office.
Wyclif had gained a great triumph, which he used by publishing a summary
of his opinions in thirty-three articles, both in Latin and English. In
these it would seem that he attacked the infallibility of the
Pope,--liable to sin like any other person, and hence to be corrected by
the voices of those who are faithful to a higher Power than his,--a blow
to the exercise of excommunication from any personal grounds of malice
or hatred, or when used to extort unjust or mercenary demands. He also
maintained that the endowments of the clergy could be lawfully withdrawn
if they were perverted or abused,--a bold assertion in his day, but
which he professed he was willing to defend, even unto death. If the
prelates had dared, or had possessed sufficient power, he would
doubtless have suffered death from their animosity; but he was left
unmolested in his retirement at his rectory, although he kept himself
discreetly out of the way of danger. When the memorable schism took
place in the Roman government by the election of an anti-pope, and both
popes proclaimed a crusade and issued their indulgences, Wyclif, who
heretofore had admitted the primacy of the Roman See, now openly
proclaimed the doctrine that the Church would be better off with no pope
at all. He owed his safety to the bitterness of the rival popes, who in
their mutual quarrels had no time to think of him. And his opportunity
was improved by writing books and homilies, in which the antichristian
claims of the popes were fearlessly exposed and commented upon. In fact,
he now openly denounces the Pope as Antichrist, from his pulpit at
Lutterworth, to his simple-minded parishioners, for whose good he seems
to have earnestly labored,--the model of a parish priest. It is supposed
that Chaucer had him in view when he wrote his celebrated description of
a good parson,--"benign" and diligent, learned and pious, giving a noble
example to his flock of disinterestedness and devotion to truth and
duty, in contrast with the ordinary lives of the clergy of those times,
who were infamous for their ignorance, sensuality, gluttony, and
ostentation; frequenting taverns, and wasting their time in gambling,
idleness, and disgraceful brawls.
Hitherto Wyclif had simply protested against the external evils of the
Church without much effect, although protected by powerful laymen and
encouraged by popular favor. The time had not come for a real and
permanent reformation; but he prepared the way for it, and in no slight
degree, by his translation of the Scriptures into the vernacular
tongue,--the greatest service he rendered to the English people and the
cause of civilization. All the great reformers, successful and
unsuccessful, appealed to the Scriptures as the highest authority, even
when they did not rebel against the papal power, like Savonarola in
Florence, I do not get the impression that Wyclif was a great popular
preacher like the Florentine reformer, or like Luther, Latimer, and
Knox. He was a student, first of the Scholastic theology, and afterwards
of the Bible. He lived in a quiet way, as scholars love to live, in his
retired rectory near Oxford, preaching plain and simple sermons to his
parishioners, but spending his time chiefly in his library, or study.
Wyclif's translation of the Bible was a great event, for it was the
first which was made in English, although parts of the Bible had been
translated into the Saxon tongue between the seventh and eleventh
centuries. He had no predecessor in that vast work, and he labored amid
innumerable obstacles. It was not a translation from the original Greek
and Hebrew, for but little was known of either language in the
fourteenth century: not until the fall of Constantinople into the hands
of the Turks was Greek or Hebrew studied; so the translation was made
from the Latin Vulgate of St. Jerome. The version of Wyclif, besides its
transcendent value to the people, now able to read the Bible in their
own language (before a sealed book, except to the clergy and the
learned), gave form and richness to the English language. To what extent
Wyclif was indebted to the labors of other men it is not easy to
determine; but there is little doubt that, whatever aid he received, the
whole work was under his supervision. Of course it was not printed, for
printing was not then discovered; but the manuscripts of the version
were very numerous, and they are to-day to be found in the great public
libraries of England, and even in many private collections.
Considering that the Latin Vulgate has ever been held in supreme
veneration by the Catholic Church in all ages and countries, by popes,
bishops, abbots, and schoolmen; that no jealousy existed as to the
reading of it by the clergy generally; that in fact it was not a sealed
book to the learned classes, and was regarded universally as the highest
authority in matters of faith and morals,--it seems strange that so
violent an opposition should have been made to its translation into
vernacular tongues, and to its circulation among the people. Wyclif's
translation was regarded as an act of sacrilege, worthy of condemnation
and punishment. So furious was the outcry against him, as an audacious
violator who dared to touch the sacred ark with unconsecrated hands,
that even a bill was brought into the House of Lords forbidding the
perusal of the Bible by the laity, and it would have been passed but for
John of Gaunt. At a convocation of bishops and clerical dignitaries held
in St. Paul's, in 1408, it was decreed as heresy to read the Bible in
English,--to be punished by excommunication. The version of Wyclif and
all other translations into English were utterly prohibited under the
severest penalties. Fines, imprisonment, and martyrdom were inflicted on
those who were guilty of so foul a crime as the reading or possession of
the Scriptures in the vernacular tongue. This is one of the gravest
charges ever made against the Catholic Church. This absurd and cruel
persecution alone made the Reformation a necessity, even as the
translation of the Bible prepared the way for the Reformation. The
translation of the Scriptures and the Reformation are indissolubly
linked together. Nobody doubts that the whole influence of the Catholic
hierarchy has ever been, and still continues to be, hostile to the
perusal of the Scriptures by the people in the vulgar tongue; and it was
this translation by Wyclif which made him more obnoxious to the Pope
than all his tirades against the vices of the monks and the other evils
which disgraced the Church. We cannot call this translation a reform,
but it led to reforms: it arrayed the people against the usurpations of
the Pope and the corruptions of the Church as an institution. Yea, more,
it was the main cause of that memorable religious movement which
followed the death of Wyclif: there would have been no Lollards had
there been no translation of the Bible. It led also to the affirmation
of that private judgment which was the foundation pillar of
Protestantism, and which existed among the Lollards long before Luther
delivered his message.
And yet it is not strange that the Catholic hierarchy (I say Catholic
rather than Roman, because in the fourteenth century there was but one
Church, although in that Church considerable difference of opinion
existed both as to matters of faith and government) should have bitterly
opposed the translation of the Scriptures into vernacular tongues, since
it opened the door to private judgment. If there is anything the
Catholic Church has hated, it is private judgment. The very phrase is
obnoxious. It means the emancipation of the people from papal domination
and ecclesiastical bondage of all description; while the thing itself is
subversive of all the claims which the Catholic hierarchy have ever put
forth as to the authority of the Church as an institution: it has
undermined and will continue to undermine spiritual despotism,--the
great evil of the Middle Ages and of the Papal Church in our times. The
unrestrained circulation of the Scriptures in the language the people
can understand must lead to the breaking up of the false doctrines and
all the instruments by which the clergy have maintained their
usurpations. It necessarily opens the eyes of the people to the
antichristian doctrine of penance, to the absurdity of indulgences for
sin, to the unwarranted worship of the Virgin Mary, to the monstrous
claim of papal infallibility, and to all other glaring usurpations by
which the popes have ruled the world. There is not a false doctrine in
religion, nor an antichristian form of worship, nor a usurped
prerogative of the Pope and clergy, which the unrestrained perusal of
the Scriptures does not expose. "_Hinc illae lacrymae_." The dignitaries
of the Roman Catholic Church are not fools. They know that the free
circulation of the Scriptures in vulgar tongues does undermine their
authority, and will ultimately destroy the edifice of pride and pomp and
power which it took a thousand years to build. This is what they ever
have consistently opposed and will continue to oppose, as a thing
dangerous to them. They would have destroyed, if they could, every copy
of the version which Wyclif made. And now, when they can no longer
prevent the Bible from being printed, they would exclude it from the
schools which they control, and from the houses of those who belong to
their Church. Doubtless the well-known opposition to the circulation of
the Bible in the vernacular has been exaggerated, but in the fourteenth
century it was certainly bitter and furious. Wyclif might expose vices
which everybody saw and lamented as a scandal, and make himself
obnoxious to those who committed them; but to open the door to free
inquiry and a reformed faith and hostility to the Pope,--this was a
graver offence, to be visited with the severest penalties. To the storm
of indignation thus raised against him Wyclif's only answer was: "The
clergy cry aloud that it is heresy to speak of the Holy Scriptures in
English, and so they would condemn the Holy Ghost, who gave tongues to
the Apostles of Christ to speak the Word of God in all languages
under heaven."
Notwithstanding the enormous cost of the Bible as translated by
Wyclif,--£2, 16s. 8d., a sum probably equal to thirty pounds, or one
hundred and fifty dollars of our present money, more than half the
annual income of a substantial yeoman,--still it was copied and
circulated with remarkable rapidity. Neither the cost of the valuable
manuscript nor the opposition and vigilance of an almost omnipresent
inquisition were able to suppress it.
Wyclif was now about fifty-eight years of age. He had rendered a
transcendent service to the English nation, and a service that not one
of his contemporaries could have performed,--to which only the foremost
scholar and theologian of his day was equal. After such a work he might
have reposed in his quiet parish in genial rest, conscious that he had
opened a new era in the history of his country. But rest was not for
him. He now appears as a doctrinal controversialist. Hitherto his
attacks had been against the flagrant external evils of the Church, the
enormous corruptions that had entered into the institutions which
sustained the papal power. "He had been the advocate of the University
in defence of her privileges, the champion of the Crown in vindication
of its rights and prerogatives, the friend of the people in the
preservation of their property.... He now assailed the Romish doctrine
of the eucharist," but without the support of those powerful princes and
nobles who had hitherto sustained him. He combats one of the prevailing
ideas of the age,--a more difficult and infinitely bolder thing,--which
theologians had not dared to assail, and which in after-times was a
stumbling-block to Luther himself. In ascending the mysterious mount
where clouds gathered around him his old friends began to desert him,
for now he assailed the awful and invisible. The Church of the Middle
Ages had asserted that the body of Christ was actually present in the
consecrated wafer, and few there were who doubted it. Berengar had
maintained in the eleventh century that the sacred elements should be
regarded as mere symbols; but he was vehemently opposed, with all the
terrors of spiritual power, and compelled to abjure the heresy. In the
year 1215, at a Lateran, Council, Innocent III. established the doctrine
of transubstantiation as one of the fundamental pillars of Catholic
belief. Then metaphysics--all the weapons of Scholasticism--were called
into the service of superstition to establish what is most mythical in
the creed of the Church, and which implied a perpetual miracle, since at
the moment of consecration the substance of the bread was taken away and
the substance of Christ's body took its place. From his chair of
theology at Oxford, in 1381, Wyclif attacked what Lanfranc and Anselm
and the doctors of the Church had uniformly and strenuously defended.
His views of the eucharist were substantially those which Archbishop
Berengar had advanced three hundred years before, and of course drew
down upon him the censure of the Church. In his peril he appealed, not
to the Pope or the clergy, but to the King himself,--a measure of
renewed audacity, for in those days no layman, however exalted, had
authority in matters purely ecclesiastical. His boldness was too much
even for the powerful Duke of Lancaster, his friend and patron, who
forbade him to speak further on such a matter. He might attack the
mendicant and itinerant friars who had forgotten their duties and their
vows, but not the great mysteries of the Catholic faith. "When he
questioned the priestly power of absolution and the Pope's authority in
purgatory, when he struck at indulgences and special masses, he had on
his side the spiritual instincts of the people;" but when he impugned
the dignity of the central act of Christian worship and the highest
expression of mystical devotion, it appeared to ordinary minds that he
was denying all that is sacred, impressive, and authoritative in the
sacrament itself,--and he gave offence to many devout minds, who had
approved his attacks on the monks and the various corruptions of the
Church. Even the Parliament pressed the Archbishop to make an end of
such a heresy; and Courtenay, who hated Wyclif, needed not to be urged.
So a council was assembled at the Dominican Convent at Blackfriars,
where the "Times" office now stands, and unanimously condemned not only
the opinions of Wyclif as to the eucharist, but also those in reference
to the power of excommunication, and the uselessness of the religious
orders. Yet he himself was allowed to escape; and the condemnation had
no other effect than to drive him from Oxford to his rectory at
Lutterworth, where until his death he occupied himself in literary and
controversial writings. His illness soon afterwards prevented him from
obeying the summons of the Pope to Rome, where he would doubtless have
suffered as a martyr. In 1384 he was struck with paralysis, and died in
three days after the attack, at the age of sixty,--though some say in
his sixty-fourth year,--probably, in spite of ecclesiastical censure,
the most revered man of his day, as well as one of the ablest and most
learned. Not from the ranks of fanatics or illiterate popular orators
did the Reformation come in any country, but from the greatest scholars
and theologians.