The exact spot where John Wicliffe was born is unknown. It is generally accepted as having been in the hamlet of Spresswell, close to the river Tees, and situated about half a mile from the present village of Wicliffe, near Richmond, in Yorkshire. Spresswell itself and its ancient chapel which were both in existence in the eighteenth century, have passed away; but the parish church of Wicliffe still stands. In this the future reformer was probably baptized.
The manor-house of the village stood not far from the church. In this dwelt, from the time of the conquest until the beginning of the seventeenth century, the representatives of the Wicliffe family, who were lords of the manor and patrons of the rectory. From this ancient family John Wicliffe traced his descent, though, perhaps as a protest against his career, his name does not appear in the records of the house, and his relatives seem to have distinguished themselves, after his death, by their staunch adherence to the papacy.
The date of his birth is, according to the usual tradition, the year 1324, but probably it should be fixed a few years earlier. He was named John, and according to the custom of the age, was called after the place of his residence — John de Wicliffe, or John of Wicliffe.
His home was situated amidst scenery of great and varied beauty, combining the bold and rugged hills and highlands of the North Riding of Yorkshire, with the soft and charming landscapes of the valley of the Tees; and doubtless the strongly marked characteristics of the people amongst whom he dwelt deeply impressed his boyish mind. Probably the sturdy courage and tenacity of purpose which he evinced in after life may be traced to the influences by which he was surrounded, as he dwelt among the old Anglo-Saxon people of those North Yorkshire dales, and drank in the historical recollections and traditions of men who, through all the changes brought about by the Norman invasion, retained their hold upon that portion of the kingdom.
Of Wicliffe’s early years and education very little is recorded. While still young he was destined for the Church. From the parish priest, or at one of the schools for elementary instruction — which at that time were freely scattered over the country, in connection with the cathedral towns and the religious orders — he probably received his first lessons, and became acquainted with Latin, also acquiring a slight knowledge of grammar, rhetoric and logic, and possibly music, arithmetic, geometry and astronomy, as they were then taught.
When about sixteen he was sent to Oxford. At that time this city contained five colleges, or “halls,” as they were then called — Merton, Balliol, Exeter, Oriel and University. About the date of Wicliffe’s arrival, nearly 30,000 students were studying there.
Some uncertainty exists as to which of the colleges he first entered. Lechler, the eminent German biographer, maintains that it was Balliol, while others claim the honor for Merton. Merton was then the most distinguished for its learning of all the colleges in this country and ranked next to the famous University of Paris. Two of its scholars, William Occam and Duns Scotus, had shed especial luster upon it; while Bradwardine, who was closing his career about the time that the young Wicliffe was opening his in Oxford, had been one of its professors.
Bradwardine was one of the greatest mathematicians and astronomers of his day; but besides this he was deeply versed in the truths of Scripture, and as a theologian he became more renowned than he had been as a philosopher. He unfolded to his students the way of life, and warned them against substituting a worship of mere external forms and ceremonies in place of the true worship of the heart. The fame of his lectures filled Europe, and his evangelical views, diffused by his scholars, helped to prepare the way for Wicliffe and others who were to come after him.
Meanwhile the young scholar made rapid progress. A quick apprehension, a penetrating intellect and a retentive memory enabled him to master the various subjects he undertook, and he speedily became proficient in the learning of those days.
Latin he wrote with fluency, but as Greek was seldom taught at that time and little known, he appears to have gained but a slight knowledge of that language. He devoted much time to logic and to the philosophy of the age, and also studied the canon and civil law with great success. Foxe states “that he was famously reputed for a famous divine, a deep schoolman and no less expert in all kinds of philosophy.” Walden, his bitter enemy, writing to Pope Martin II, says “that he was wonderfully astonished at his most strong arguments, with the places of authority which he had gathered, and with the vehemency and force of his reasons.” Knighton, the historian, also an enemy, affirms “his powers of debate to have been almost more than human.”
It is as a theologian, however, that Wicliffe merits the gratitude of all succeeding ages. At that time it was not necessary to read the Bible as a preparation for the priesthood. The Bachelors of Theology of the lowest grade held readings in the Word of God, but those of the middle and higher ranks considered it beneath their dignity to expound so elementary a book as the Scriptures. They devoted their attention to the Sentences of Peter Lombard, a scholar of the twelfth century who made a collection of the opinions of the fathers, or to disquisitions upon speculations of their own. “There was no mention,” says Foxe, “nor almost any word spoken of Scripture. Instead of Peter and Paul, men occupied their time in studying Aquinas and Scotus, and the Master of Sentences.”
But Wicliffe loved the Bible, and by-and-by he became known as the “Gospel Doctor.”
In the midst of the groveling superstitions which then abounded, men were startled by the approach of a terrible pestilence. Appearing first in Tartary, it ravaged various kingdoms of Asia, and then passed onwards to Europe. Italy’s beautiful cities were turned into charnel-houses. Crossing the Alps, it entered Northern Europe and soon appeared in England.
In August, 1348, it broke out in Dorchester, and on the 1st of November in the same year it reached London. One hundred thousand of the inhabitants of that city perished. The infected generally expired within a few hours; the strongest failed after the second or third day. The lower animals were attacked, and their decaying carcasses covered the fields. Husbandry was suspended, the courts of justice were closed, parliament did not meet; everywhere reigned terror, mourning and death.
This terrible visitation made a deep impression upon Wicliffe. He frequently referred to it in after life. It sounded like the trumpet of the Judgment Day in his heart, and he felt how awful a thing it was to die. His burdened soul found relief in the study of the Scriptures, and the struggles which he underwent gave him a confidence in God and a conception of the importance of eternal things, which prepared him to face even death and the stake.
Shortly after this, in 1356, he produced his first publication — a small treatise entitled “The Last Age of the Church.” He was then about thirty-two. In this, while he deplored the gross corruption of the ecclesiastical system, and anticipated the terrible chastisements of the Almighty in consequence, he pointed out the refuge of the devout, saying, “So when we were sinful and the children of wrath, God’s Son came out of heaven, and, praying to His Father for His enemies, He died for us. Then much rather shall we be saved, now we are made righteous through His blood.”
Of the private life of John Wicliffe very little is recorded. From 1345 to 1365 appears to have been a period of quiet work at Oxford. In 1361, we find him master of Balliol College; and on the 16th of May in the same year he was nominated by his college to the rectorship of Fillingham, a small parish in the county of Lincoln, about ten miles distant from the city of that name.
This appointment did not, however, necessitate his removal from the University. In all probability he continued for all important purposes to reside in Oxford, and continued a member of the academic body of that city, exercising all the powers and privileges belonging to him as such. An entry exists in the Acts of the See of Lincoln, from which it appears that Wicliffe applied for and obtained, in 1368, the consent of his Bishop to an absence of two years from his parish church of Fillingham in order to devote himself to his studies at Oxford.
Although this portion of the reformer’s life has been called his quiet work at Oxford, it was none the less important. As an active member of the governing body of his College, and also of the whole University, he acquired and exercised skill as an administrator; while as a professor he gave disputations and lectures in various philosophical subjects. As a Bachelor of Theology he gave lectures on the Bible; and while others were placing it aside as a book of secondary importance, he held it up as the final standard of appeal, and drew from it truths of the greatest importance to himself and of blessing for his countrymen.
The nomination to the rectorship of Fillingham obliged Wicliffe to relinquish his appointment as Master of Balliol; but in 1365 he was appointee by Simon Islip, the Archbishop of Canterbury, to be warden of Canterbury Hall, a new college founded by that primate a short time previously. The Archbishop, who was an old fellow-student of the reformer, gave as his reasons for appointing him to this office, “his practical qualifications of fidelity, circumspection, and diligence; as well as his learning and estimable life.”
A year after this appointment Islip died, and was succeeded as primate by Peter Langham, previously Abbot of Westminster and a private monk. The new archbishop arbitrarily displaced Wicliffe from his office and appointed a new head for Canterbury Hall. This being unjust and in direct opposition to the will of the founder of that college, Wicliffe appealed to the Pope. But Langham had the greater influence at Rome, and after a long delay the Pontiff, in 1370, gave his decision against the reformer.
Never hasting, never resting,
Glad in peace and calm in strife;
Quietly thyself preparing
To perform thy part in life.
Earnest, hopeful, and unswerving,
Weary though thou art and faint,
Ne’er despair, there’s One above thee,
Listing ever to thy plaint.