AUTHOR'S NOTE OF ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

THAT it has been possible to publish this work is due to a grant made from the Publication Fund of the University of London, and to the authorities responsible for the allocation of this grant I must return my thanks. I also wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to Dr. P. Geyl, Professor of Dutch History and Literature in the University of London, for the loan of books and for his kindness in looking through the final proofs,

THE BEGINNINGS OF

ARMINIANISM

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

MODERN Europe begins with the Reformation rather than with the Renaissance. When Luther burnt the papal Bull of Excommunication, thousands of people discovered that they had entered into a new world. The burning of the Bastille was the next act of destruction in man's revolutionary progress. The spiritual overlord was the first of the absolute masters of mankind to be challenged; it was inevitable that the temporal overlord would also be overthrown when the common man had fully worked out the syllogism. That difficult intellectual exercise occupied 283 years. There were, however, many interruptions; a Thirty Years' War over the first premise proved to be a serious distraction and also resolute thinkers are rare. Man also is something more than a logician. Storms of emotion sweep him out of the course and, when winds are difficult, an infinite patience is needed to tack backwards and forwards without many signs of progress.

If we find that many of the creative forces which are now operative in western civilization had their birth in the Reformation, we must not allow an undue influence to the volcanic and picturesque figure of Luther. The Reformation should not be regarded as a circle with Luther as the centre; it is rather an ellipse with two foci. If we go to Wittenberg to read Luther's Theses on the door of the Church of All Saints, we must also

go to Geneva to see Calvin's republic. Calvin was of the second generation of the Reformers, and was not afraid to speak of Luther as his master, yet it has become customary to regard him as the more important figure. A modern French Protestant puts the comparison between the two men into the form of a question: "Do you prefer the ardour which throws down the three walls of the old Babylon or the will and genius which build the ramparts of the new Zion?" His own answer is that of the child who was asked to choose between his father and his mother: "I prefer them both." 1 While not entirely sharing M. Doumergue's filial devotion to the two great leaders, we may recognize the fact that their strong qualities were complementary and were not unrepresentative of their respective countries. In rugged courage, masterfulness, poetry and in a certain depth of sentiment, Luther expresses what is best in the life of his country. We do not turn to Calvin for Gallic wit or sprightliness, but we find there French clarity of thought, pungency of temper and servitude to ideas. Conventional national traits may be exaggerated, yet there can be no doubt that nationality played a large part in dividing Protestantism into its Lutheran, Reformed and Anglican branches, and some elements of that cleavage along national lines found expression in the characters of Calvin and Luther.

Yet the essential genius of both men was practical. The monk and the scholar were men of action, not because they were unfitted for the monastery and the study, but because their conceptions were dynamic. If a conception deepens into a conviction it ceases at once to be static or rotatory, it must find an outlet in action. The discussions in Milton's Hell "found no end in wandering mazes lost" because they were not based on convictions. Luther was the most effective man of his age; the age of Charles V, Francis I, Michael Angelo, and Wolsey. Calvin's genius was not speculative; it was practical. Brunetière has said, "Pour connaître Calvin on n'a besoin que de l'Institution 1 E. Doumergue, Jean Calvin, Preface to Vol. IV.