Freewill or Predestination. The Battle Over

Saving Grace in Mid-Tudor England.

(Book Review)

By D. Andrew Penny

 

By D. Andrew Penny. (Royal Historical Society Studies in History, 61.) Pp. x

+ 249. Woodbridge: Boydell Press (for the Royal Historical Society), 1990.

35[pounds].

 

Predestination and the causes of the English Civil War are not subjects that

have regularly induced equanimity and irenicism in historians. Recent

intepretations of early seventeenth-century English history have, however,

associated them in a potentially explosive mixture, and the result has been

an outbreak of odium theologicum, which has introduced a thoroughly unwonted

array of theological terms into the pages of Past and Present.(1) The

occasion of all this activity was an article by Peter White, and White has

now returned to the debate with a whole book designed to develop and justify

his initial claims. The considerable scholarly interest in the issues raised

by White stems not only from their significance for religious history but

also from their supposed impact on the politics of the period. Many of the

questions at stake, however, remain recalcitrantly theological, and in his

book White offers himself to the historical community as an expert guide to

whet he presents as intricate and arcane matters. In their comments on the

dust jacket John Guy and John Morrill seem suitably grateful for his advice,

praising the book for its `authority', its `massive' learning and its

`absolutely clear understanding of theological systems'. White certainly

assumes an authoritative, even schoolmasterly, tone; his account is peppered

with utterly self-confident asides and value judgements -- Richard Montague,

we are told, `lacked the subtlety and the capacity for logical rigour of an

academic theologian', while Joseph Hall is praised for having `reached a

balanced verdict on the theological questions at issue' (pp. 217, 234). This

Olympian tone is not merely an irritating affectation; it plays a crucial

role in the overall strategy of White's book, enabling him almost at will to

marginalise some figures and positions and valorise others.

 

White's argument operates on two levels. At a meta-level it proceeds through

the definition of terms and creation of categories which are then applied,

at a micro level, to a detailed reading of key sources. There are

considerable difficulties with White's case at both levels but in what

follows, largely for reasons of space, I have concentrated on the Thaws in

his conceptual schema, a schema which operates to prejudge many of the

issues at stake and sometimes to render his argument virtually circular.

 

The basic distinction upon which the book is based is one between theology

and polemic. `The essence of theology is the resolution of the great

antinomies.... In proclaiming the reconciliation of God and man it finds

itself reconciling opposites. It is a search for equipoise, the pursuit of a

middle way' (pp. 5-6). It is, therefore, on the basis of this definition of

`theology' that White goes on to `distinguish theology from polemic' (p.

11). Where theology tries to unite, to reconcile differences, to find a

middle way, polemic tries to set apart, to dichotomise, to define and

exclude. For White some authors are mere polemicists; for anyone interested

in theology as he defines it, therefore, their works are of no value at all.

Other writers, while often trying to do theology in the manner White

approves, sometimes unfortunately slip into polemic. When that happens they

can be gently reproved and the offending statements set aside. When

Buckeridge, Howson and Laud said some particularly rude things about Dort

and the (for White entirely un-Calvinist) Lambeth Articles they are said to

have `resorted to anti-Calvinist polemic' (p. 242) and when the English

delegates to Dort turned on Montague they are gently reproved for allowing

themselves to be driven onto the defensive and abandoning the flexibility of

their earlier position. But if White feels able to `edit' and marginalise

some authors, he completely ignores others. For White, Heylin and Prynne

were mere polemicists, and he proceeds to write as though they did not

exist. In short White's distinction between theology and polemic operates

throughout the book as a licence to marginalise what does not fit his case

and to emphasise what does. For a purported work of historical analysis this

represents a distinctly cavalier attitude to sources.

 

Moreover, the distinction between theology and polemic is not as

unproblematic as White imagines. It is not readily apparent how it can be

applied to a period in which the nearest thing to systematic theology

produced by English divines was nearly always contained in polemical works,

usually anti-Catholic, sometimes like-Hooker's Laws anti-Puritan, and, more

rarely, like Richard Montague's New Gagg and Appello, pointing in both

directions at once. It was, moreover, a period in which theology was taught

and examined through formal disputations, inherently polemical exercises

designed to sharpen the logical and forensic skills of would-be theologians.

Again, White's formulation of theology as an attempt to resolve `the great

antinomies' is fair enough. Ho-wever, those antinomies could be reconciled

in a number of ways that were not always mutually compatible. In short, the

search for `equipoise' did not necessarily involve the pursuit of

`moderation' in quite the way White appears to imagine.

 

Of course, in an age drenched in Aristotelianism the notions that virtue was

a mean, and moderation a good thing, were common coin. However, the

substantive content of any middle way depended entirely on the way in which

the two extremes were construed or constructed. Here, one enters the realm

of polemic. For it was precisely in the construction of extreme positions,

positions that one did not hold, that the polemical impulse came into its

own. As such it was an integral part of the construction of any position as

moderate or as middle way. Even quite radical Protestants and Puritans

could, on occasion, present their position as in some sense a middle way

between popish idolatry and Anabaptist or sectarian excess. For many

Jacobean conformists the formal equivalence of the popish and Puritan

threats became almost axiomatic but, in practice, it was a rare divine

indeed who was not more at ease defining his own position against one or

other of these polemically constructed opponents. Styles of polemic and

decisions about the deployment of the polemical mode thus provide us with

crucial evidence about the basic orientation of contemporaries' thought.

Anyone ruling such evidence out of court (as White does) virtually ensures

that he or she will miss the point.

 

Nor is White's notion of moderation without its difficulties. For in this

intellectual world `moderation' is not best seen as a substantive category,

of which one can attribute more or less to a given group or individual.

`Moderate' only works as a qualifier. One can be a moderate something, but

not merely a `moderate'. Of course, to use moderate in this way implies a

spectrum of opinion along which it is possible to locate individuals and

positions in relation to one another. The notion of a spectrum allows one to

distinguish shades of opinion, to chart change over time, to categorise and

sift different positions and schools of thought, with a far greater subtlety

than the view of the period (attributed perhaps unfairly by White to

Nicholas Tyacke) which sees it as simply polarised between monolithic and

unchanging Calvinist and Arminian camps.

 

Anxious to overthrow what he takes to be Tyacke's view, White initially

embraces the notion of a spectrum with enthusiasm. However, that enthusiasm

only operates at the lever of theory, for in practice, as he admits in the

introduction (p. xiii), he largely fails to use any coherently defined

spectrum of opinion to describe or locate any of the various positions on

predestination he outlines in the book. In part this is because of his

semi-covert drive to replace what he takes to be the false polarity between

Arminians and Calvinists, which was centred on the issue of predestination,

with another polarity, that between Anglicans and Puritans, which he sees as

only partly concerned, and only on the Puritan side, with the double decree.

A serious deployment of the notion of a spectrum of opinion would be even

less kind to the Anglican/Puritan dichotomy, to which White remains wedded,

than it is to the Calvinist/Arminian dichotomy which he wants so much to

reject. And so, since White's aim is, through the invocation of something

called doctrinal Puritanism, to expand the Anglican middle into a very

capacious category indeed, the notion of a spectrum is of no great practical

value except for the narrowly polemical purpose of attacking Dr Tyacke.

 

Of course refuting Tyacke involves closely following his argument. The

result is that White faithfully reproduces Tyacke's concentration on the

single doctrinal crux of predestination. That may be a forgiveable

narrowness in someone (like Tyacke) who is convinced of that doctrine's

centrality and importance. However, it seems positively bizarre in a book

dedicated to the proposition that predestination was not all that important

after all, except to Puritans, whose views, on this or any other subject,

are not accorded extended discussion. There is, moreover, a considerable

price attached to White's concentration on the theology of grace. For, as he

admits, the significance of the various predestinarian positions he is

describing can only properly be appreciated by looking at their relationship

with other doctrinal loci. Yet since he refuses to discuss any doctrine

other than predestination he is unable to categorise or analyse the various

positions on predestination outlined in his book by relating them to their

wider theological context.

 

In fact, White does, intermittently, invoke other doctrinal issues. But he

does so only by implication, with a coyness that raises but never answers

any number of crucial questions. In particular, his notion of doctrinal

Puritanism begs a whole series of questions about the relations of doctrine

to discipline and ceremony. It is never clear in what other senses of the

word those who held only the doctrinal aspects of doctrinal Puritanism were

Puritans. Thus in his account of the York House Conference White is forced

to describe Bishop Morton, future royalist and defender of the Prayer Book,

as espousing the `doctrinal puritanism of Lord Saye'. This is clearly very

odd, yet White can only address the seeming contradictions of his own

position by attributing doubts to Morton himself -- `it is hard to believe

that Morton can have had any real confidence in his own espousal of Saye's

doctrinal puritanism'-- for which there is no textual warrant (p. 226). In

fact, unless he wants to define Puritanism solely in terms of the doctrine

of predestination, White's whole notion of doctrinal Puritanism must rest on

other issues, issues that he continually invokes but never discusses.

 

Similarly, whenever he is forced to concede that there were very different

schools of thought at play in the English Church, White either leaves them

unexplained or cryptically invokes other issues and doctrines to explain

them. Thus of Richard Montague he writes that `the general orientation of

his theology reflected fundamental differences of outlook between him and

his opponents' and then leaves it at that. Admitting that `there were indeed

two different conceptions of protestant orthodoxy ranged against each other

in 1625-9', White dismisses them as irrelevant to his present purpose

because `they were well established, many-faceted and related essentially to

perceptions of Rome'. Elsewhere he is happy to refer to `Laudian theology'

but never tells the reader what that might be (pp. 218, 222, 255). He

certainly never discusses how these other divisions might be related to

predestination. The implication is that they were not related at all but

since the question is never directly addressed it is hard to be sure. Even

in the case of doctrinal Puritanism, where there surely must be some

connection, the substantive basis of the correlation between Puritanism and

Calvinism is never explained.

 

All this is scarcely enlightening. However, White displays no desire to

shoulder the responsibility of categorising or explicating contemporary

religious opinion or theological schools of thought. In fact the categories

`Anglican' and `Puritan' continually shape his argument but he feels no need

to define or defend either of them. The whole thrust of the argument serves

to lever the doctrine of predestination out of any wider doctrinal or

polemical context/s. We are left, then, with a spectrum upon which it is

virtually impossible to locate anyone; with categories that White refuses to

define, or even in the case of Anglicanism, explicitly to address; with an

issue -- predestination -- that, on White's account, was peripheral to the

concerns of most of the men he is writing about; an issue, moreover, whose

significance can only be understood in relation to other doctrines, about

which White refuses to talk.

 

Spectrums, of course, require end points, and White proceeds to define his

in ways that effectively predetermine the course of his argument. White

defines the end of the spectrum conventionally labelled `Calvinist' entirely

in terms of the supralapsarianism of Theodore Beza. Citing Beza's

Tractationes theologicae published at Geneva between 1570 and 1582, White

constructs a version of Calvinist orthodoxy to which a strictly limited

vision of the atonement and an irrespective doctrine of reprobation are

central. Sublapsarian versions of the doctrine of predestination, since they

do not contain a sufficiently irrespective doctrine of reprobation, do not

count, nor do any views of the atonement not strictly limited to the elect.

Thus, while he largely avoids the word White has in effect produced a

definition of Calvinist or reformed orthodoxy with scarcely a mention of

Calvin. Given the huge scholarly literature concerned with the relationship

between Calvin and the Calvinists, with the question of the impact of Beza

and later reformed scholasticism on the insights and balance of Calvin's

position, this is odd.

 

Moreover, White's criteria for distinguishing moderates from extremists

(and, one assumes, middle way `Anglicans' from `doctrinal Puritans') are

similarly peculiar. For White, anyone who goes out of his way to deny that

God is the author of sin, to assert that election is in Christ, to argue

that security rather than assurance is bad, to point out that even the elect

must work out their salvation in fear and trembling, who emphasises that

good works are a necessary sign of a true and lively faith, who talks more

about election than reprobation, who stresses the need to preach the word to

all, who balances predestination with notions of a covenant between God, the

believer and the godly community or Church, who points out the very close

resemblance between the spiritual graces vouchsafed to the reprobate and

those vouchsafed to the elect, any such person must be some sort of

`moderate'. If these were indeed the marks of moderation there can hardly

have been any radicals left. These sorts of claims and characteristics were

the common coin of most Puritan and evangelical Calvinist preaching. And yet

White persists in using doctrinal Puritanism as a synonym for Bezan

extremism on predestination.

 

At this point White seems to be in danger of allowing his own analytical

criteria and categories to be formed by the sort of caricature of Calvinist

and/or Puritan divinity produced by anti-Calvinists like Richard Montague.

For just as those concerned to defend notions of absolute predestination

dwelt on the doctrine of election, those concerned to attack it turned to

reprobation -- and White follows suit with enthusiasm. Having accepted and

effectively reproduced the anti-Calvinists' caricature of Calvinist and

Puritan divinity, White naturally finds their notion of doctrinal Puritanism

plausible. He then goes on more or less to endorse both their presentation

of themselves as moderates and their version of their relationship to the

inherently moderate constitution of the Church of England, a vision which he

then projects back into the sixteenth century. In a highly polemicised

period like this, one sure way to misunderstand and misconstrue events is to

adopt the perspectives and values of one party to a debate. The genuinely

historical task, which White consistently shirks, is to explain and

imaginatively inhabit the positions and polemical claims of each group in

turn, not to distribute marks for theological subtlety and rightness from

the standpoint of one of the parties to the dispute.

 

Next White turns to Arminianism, which he defines strictly in terms of the

theology of Jacobus Arminius. Any criticism of absolute predestination that

diverges from this position cannot be called Arminian. At a stroke,

therefore, White has managed to abolish English Arminianism and to produce a

touchstone of Calvinist orthodoxy to which, on his own admission, even the

Synod of Dort did not adhere. This, however, does not prevent him from

applying his exalted standard of reformed rectitude throughout the book,

even to periods before Beza had fully formulated his position. Responding to

A. G. Dickens's perhaps rather intemperate description of the articles of

religion as displaying an `immoderate Calvinism' and a `rigorous

supralapsarianism', White uses Beza as a touchstone of Calvinist rigorism.

Of course Beza's position, although it precedes the discussion of the

Forty-Two Articles in White's book, did no such thing in the sixteenth

century. It is perhaps unsurprising, then, that the Articles of Religion

should not have betrayed the influence of books which had yet to be written.

 

In fact the chronological arrangement of White's book is, in general, rather

odd. Starting with chapters on the works of Prynne and Heylin taken from the

very end of White's chosen period, he then returns to the middle to discuss

Beza and Arminius, and from there finally proceeds to the beginning. While

this is an odd way to structure a historical study it serves the purposes of

White's argument admirably. For in White's view, where Calvinism, defined as

supralapsarian Bezanism, is not present we cannot speak of Calvinism at all.

Unsurprisingly then he is able to detect very little Calvinism in the

Edwardian or early Elizabethan Churches, a little more in the second half of

Elizabeth's reign, but virtually none in the early Stuart Church (except

among `doctrinal Puritans') and almost no Arminianism anywhere at all,

except in Holland and that, of course, was and is `abroad'. Any reader

prepared to accept White's categories cannot but agree with him. The

categories, however, are distressingly unhistorical and the reader is

presented with no very compelling reasons to adopt them.

 

Moreover if we unpick the categories, the material presented in the book

takes on a rather different significance from that White himself attributes

to it. We start with an early English Protestantism obsessed with

justification by faith and the need to distinguish between itself and a

Catholic theology of merit. At this stage Protestants were not much

concerned with the issue of predestination and some few of them (Latimer and

Hooper), when they did discuss it, tended to say things that, by later

standards of reformed orthodoxy, could sound distinctly Arminian. Able for

the first time to espouse a formal doctrinal position in the relative

freedom of Edward's reign, and now under the influence of a number of

continental reformed divines (Bucer, Martyr) who (as White shows) believed

in absolute predestination but did not always express themselves in the

harsh terms or with the rigour later used by Beza and others, English

Protestants produced in the Articles of Religion a distinctly reformed

document.

 

A. G. Dickens pointed out some time ago that the articles were in part

shaped by an anti-Anabaptist impulse. As Catharine Davies's recent research

has confirmed, if the position of the English Church can be seen as a middle

way at all during Edward's reign the resulting via media was conceived at

the time as a reformed rejection of both popish and Anabaptist extremes. The

free willers, who form the subject of Andrew Peeny's book, were often

(inaccurately, he argues) presented in official circles as Anabaptists.

Betraying no acquaintance with Davies's important dissertation, Penny does

not perhaps pay enough attention to the way continental models of Anabaptist

extremism were appropriated and deployed by Edwardian writers to legitimate

the official reformation as mainstream and moderate and to explain and

conceptually control the lay activism and radicalism that forms the subject

of his book. He is accordingly perhaps a little too trustful of official

refutations of Anabaptist error as a guide to the real opinions of his free

willers. However, he is able to show that included under the rubric of

Anabaptist radicalism were certain proto-Arminian opinions on free will and

predestination circulating at a plebeian level in Kent and London.

Interestingly for White's argument, Penny abandons the mid-Tudor Protestant

establishment, the establishment of Cranmer, Ridley and John Bradford -- the

establishment, of course, that produced the Articles of Religion -- to an

increasingly assertive predestinarianism.

 

As Penny effectively shows in his analysis of some of the books published to

refute the free willers, the Articles of Religion did not embrace the most

extreme formulations on predestination available at the time. They remained,

how-ever, a forceful statement of absolute predestination that dwelt on

election not reprobation but which, by the standards of the time, might

fairly be called distinctly reformed or, in a loose sense of the word,

Calvinist. White's attempts to avoid this conclusion, on the one hand by

looking backwards and glossing the articles with a text -- A necessary

doctrine and erudition of a Christian man -- produced in 1543 at the height

of the Henrician reaction, and, on the other, by looking forwards and

comparing them with Beza, do not indicate a developed sense of historical

context.

 

The adoption of the same articles by the Elizabethan Church represented an

endorsement of the same reformed position. White quotes a passage on

predestination from a document produced by certain prominent Protestants

(Jewel, Cox and Sandys amongst them) designed `to justify themselves against

hostile criticism after their disputation at Westminster with Marian

Catholics' (p. 62). Those debates concerned the authority of individual

churches over their own ceremonies, the mass and the use of Latin in divine

service. That they felt the need to defend a position on predestination at

all in this context, facing down popish error on the subject, associating

the issue with the crucial `doctrines of grace and our free justification

and salvation by Christ', and endorsing Augustine's De bono perseverantiae

in the process, seems less a sign of caution and moderation than White

appears to think. As he points out the authors justified their treatment of

predestination in part by reference to the presence `in these our days' of

some `who also pretend the name of the gospel' but who `oppugned' the

articles on justification and predestination. This is almost certainly a

reference backwards to the disputes in the King's Bench prison under Mary

and also to the scattered groups of early Elizabethan Protestants who

continued the cause of Penny's free willers into the next reign. Penny can

find precious few such men and concentrates his account on the work of John

Champneys and the even more obscure Thomas Talbot, parson of Milk Street,

London. This is a rather slender basis for a non-Calvinist Anglican

tradition of the sort posited by Penny but it provides an interesting

context for the passage quoted by White. For here we have the opponents of a

predestinarian gloss on article I 7 being described by Jewel and others as

only `pretending' the name of the gospel and being firmly put in their place

by leading proponents of White and Penny's moderate Anglican compromise. If

there was, as Penny argues, a `predestinarian offensive' (p. 206) during

this period is appears to have included amongst its proponents Cox, Jewel

and Sandys, and, in Mary's reign, Ridley, if Penny's admittedly tenuous

attribution to him of an anonymous but strongly predestinarian manuscript

reply to the free willers in the King's Bench prison is correct.

 

In the immediate aftermath of the settlement Jewel and others accepted and

indeed gloried in the reformed doctrine of the English Church, despite their

embarassment at the relatively unreformed nature of its liturgy. The

tensions that White discerns between Jewel's claim that the Church of

England shared a common doctrinal position with the wider reformed community

and his claims to true catholicity betray White's own assumptions rather

than Jewel's. In a classic instance of his use of the theology/polemic

distinction he manages to write off the former claim as merely polemically

`mandatory' and to embrace the latter as `fundamental' to both the

`principle and method of Jewel's apologetic' (pp. 70-1). This, of course, is

to miss the point that for Jewel both claims were central and, indeed,

virtually synonymous. It was precisely because in comparison with the

papists all the reformed Churches could claim true catholicity that he could

assume a basic doctrinal consensus amongst them and thus `gloss over points

of contention' (p. 71).

 

In the mid-Elizabethan period those who openly challenged the doctrine of

absolute predestination were few and far between and often got into serious

trouble. Most of these were foreigners often of eccentric doctrinal opinions

(Antonio del Corro, Francesco Pucci, Peter Baro). The one Englishman to

repudiate overtly `Calvinist' versions of predestination -- Samuel Harsnet

-- was told to be quiet by Whitgift himself. According to White the most

popular reformed authority in this period was the moderately but firmly

predestinarian Commonplaces of Musculus. Despite some very scattered

objections to doctrinal implications extracted from the Prayer Book and in

one instance the Thirty-Nine Articles (drawn mostly from anonymous Puritan

manuscript manifestos) the dispute between Puritans and conformists over

church government took place within an assumed doctrinal consensus openly

and repeatedly acknowledged in print by both sides. White largely ignores

the printed pamphlet exchanges but notes that even Whitgift took exception

when Beza tried to dent this English reformed front by imputing some

doctrinal implications to differences over polity.

 

This situation was disrupted, in part, by the increasing prominence in

England of genuinely Bezan opinions on predestination, and in part, by the

doctrinal zeal of Puritans whose commitment to the English Church hung on

its claims to true doctrine and whose vision of true doctrine (at this date)

contained an uncompromising (Bezan?) version of absolute predestination at

or near its heart. These Bezan tendencies represented a distinct shift from

the position enshrined in the Thirty-Nine Articles and the more moderate

formulations of earlier reformed authorities. Penny contests this reading

and is able to provide interesting examples of earlier predestinarian zeal

in the Edwardian and early Elizabethan periods. These show that an

uncompromising espousal of absolute predestination was not new in the 1580s

and 1590s and had never been a Puritan monopoly. As Muller and others have

argued, Protestant scholasticism did not represent a break from, so much as

a development out of, earlier reformed thinking,(2) but one does not have to

espouse the most extreme version of a decisive discontinuity between Calvin

and the Calvinists to note a certain increase in the prevalence of

supralapsarian opinions and a change in tone (in some circles) in the course

of Elizabeth's reign. The assumption of certain centrally placed figures in

the universities and elsewhere that such Bezan opinions represented a

summation of received opinion within the English reformed community proved

divisive. It drove some of those least comfortable with the doctrines of

absolute predestination, perseverance and assurance into more and more

coherent critiques of the Calvinist position and thus brought into the open

differences of emphasis and tone that had remained largely implicit until

that point. Penny's attempt to associate Peter Baro, a French divinity

professor at Cambridge who had arrived in England in the 1570s, with the

native plebeian and rather anticlerical free will tradition of Mary's reign

is, in the absence of any evidence, unpersuasive.

 

The result was the affair of the Lambeth Articles in which, after a certain

amount of negotiation, both archbishops accepted a formula drawn up largely

by William Whitaker to list those common assumptions about predestination

that would unite English theological opinion. In an interesting account of

Archbishop Hutton's treatise on predestination `White shows (in spite of

himself) how even more moderate predestinarians educated under Edward could

find the proto-Arminianism of Peter Baro worryingly Pelagian and popish and

unite with divines of a more overtly Bezan stamp and Puritan pedigree, like

Whitaker or Chaderton, behind a distinctly reformed or Calvinist standard of

orthodoxy. The very act of definition, however, proved fatal. Failing to

find royal favour the Lambeth Articles had no more authority than the

cultural capital and political clout of the authors could lend them. Those

out of sympathy with the Calvinist principles that prompted the articles

were free to gloss them as they would.

 

However, the 1590s represented the high water mark of Bezan influence in

England. Thereafter a combination of pastoral, polemical and theological

considerations rendered the predominant style of English predestinarian

theorising sublapsarian and much play was made with Calvin's distinction

between the sufficiency and efficiency of the atonement, a tendency that

culminated in the hypothetical universalism of the English delegation to

Dort. The nature of reformed orthodoxy was never fixed but, as White shows,

for all that the high water mark of Bezan influence was past, under James,

such sublapsarian, potentially universalist opinions were cited often to

demonstrate the essential solidarity of the Church of England with the other

reformed Churches and with the thought of the great luminaries of the

reformed tradition like Calvin.

 

Not everyone shared that perception, and some men, like `Dutch' Thomson and

later Thomas Jackson, started to press against the boundaries of even the

modified sublapsarian position, as Barrett, Baro and Hooker had done before

them. In doing so, for all their conversance with parallel developments in

the Low Countries, they never reproduced anything like the full scholastic

panoply of Arminius' reformed system building. Despite the continued public

canvassing at court, Paul's Cross and the universities, of various versions

of absolute predestination these differences scarcely reached the stage of

public dispute in England until the end of James's reign.

 

Things were brought to a head by the disputes in the Low Countries and the

Synod of Dort. White's account of the synod shows effectively just how

isolated the hyper-Calvinists Gomarus and Maccivius were. The English

delegation, initially divided over the extent of the atonement, united

behind the more moderate universalist position and generally exercised a

remarkably successful restraining influence an the more aggressive and

extreme tendencies of the Contra-remonstrants. White deploys some

interesting material here from the published correspondence of Grotius and

other Dutch scholars which shows clearly the links between the Remonstrants

and sympathetic figures in England like Andrewes and Overall.

 

White produces an effective if rather brief summary of the moderate

sublapsarian and hypothetical universalist Calvinism of the British Suffrage

and shows effectively how the delegates used the position hammered out at

the synod in their campaign to refute or at least to gloss into

insignificance the controversial works of Richard Montague. The position

taken by Davenant and Ward was certainly more moderate than that of some

other English predestinarians. But a hard line against both the Remonstrants

and Richard Montague was never a Puritan monopoly, as White effectively

proves. George Abbot, the archbishop of Canterbury, disapproved of the

universalism of Davenant and Ward. George Carleton, head of the delegation,

was initially hostile and wrote a sharp rebuke of Montague. Bishop Morton

was an outspoken critic of Montague's position at York House as was the

Puritan John Preston. Nor was moderation on the subject of predestination

unknown in Puritan circles. In an important and as yet unpublished paper

David Como has shown that two notoriously nonconformist Puritans -- Ezekiel

Culverwell and John Cotton -- both produced modified and moderated -- and in

Culverwell's case hypothetical universalist -- positions on the subject in

the 1610s and 1620s.

 

After a period of some confusion and no little dispute in parliament, the

pulpit and the press, in the course of which the position many

contemporaries called Arminian was placed under considerable pressure, calm

was restored in the 1630s. Public discussion of predestination was

discouraged. Davenant was rebuked for touching on the matter in a court

sermon, and, for the first time since the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, it

became very difficult, though not altogether impossible, to publish the

sorts of Calvinist opinions that Prynne thought orthodox and Peter Heylin

took to be heterodox. While these difficulties were not accompanied by

anything like a campaign to establish a Remonstrant or Arminian orthodoxy,

it now became possible to do something very like what Samuel Harsnet had

done in 1584, indeed, to do it at court, and yet to escape scot free. To

many people, to all Puritans and to many who were not Puritans in any normal

sense of the word, this seemed, variously, unfortunate, shocking and, to

some, even disastrous. However, the Civil War, war of religion or no, was

not fought about predestination nor was it fought between Calvinists and

Arminians.

 

This seems to me to be something like the moderate, mainstream view of these

matters and, stripped of the rather distorting and polemically generated

categories and assumptions that White brings to much of his material,

White's book in the main confirms it. Yet even within the rough outlines of

the account summarised here there is still plenty of room for argument about

what it all means. A variety of more or less plausible cases could be made

on the terrain that White attempts to occupy. Predestination was more cent

al to some churchmen and Christians than to others during this period.

Disputes on the subject were intermittent and their timing and political

resonance owed much to factors other than theology, The categories of

Calvinist and Arminian were less stable than some usages of the terms might

suggest. Seen negatively, they might be conceived as polemically constructed

labels deployed by those concerned to expel certain tendencies and opinions

from the pale of Protestant respectability. Seen positively, the objects of

those labelling processes might be pictured as loose coalitions, made up of

more or less compatible ideological strands, rather than as tidy monolithic

parties organised around tightly defined orthodoxies. The positive agenda of

most anti-Calvinists was dominated by issues and priorities other than

predestination. In general divisions about predestination represented only

one of the fault lines running through the English Church. The destabilising

effects of English Arminianism were in part caused by and worked out through

other divisions, disputes and tensions centred on the terms Puritanism and

popery. White could have argued such a case. He could, in fact, have taken

on board those central features of Tyacke's case that are founded on

evidence of essentially irrefutable profusion without necessarily accepting

all the alleged consequences of that case.(3) But in throwing the baby out

with the bath water White has done both himself and his readers a serious

disservice.

 

And here, of course, we return to the subject of polemic. White's book is

not properly a work of history. Its odd chronological arrangement, openly

evaluative language, narrow concentration on predestination and lack of any

great concern for wider polemical or theological context ensure that it is

best seen as a work of historical theology. And yet on White's own criteria

it cannot really qualify as theology either, for it is, first and foremost,

a work of polemic, that owes its shape and whatever claims it has to

coherence to the fidelity with which White tracks the argument and

reproduces the researches of other scholars, most notably those of Dr

Tyacke. The book is best seen, in fact, as an attempt formally to refute

Tyacke's thesis. Suitably enough, then, White's major conclusions remain

negative: predestination was never all that important. The real causes of

religious dispute lay elsewhere in other doctrines and other (often

political) concerns. The Church of England can never be said to have been

Calvinist. There were no English Arminians to speak of and so on.

 

White retains, however, one implicit positive claim - his book is, in fact,

a defence of a version of Anglicanism that never quite manages to speak its

name. For throughout the book, for all his talk of change and diversity,

White maintains an essentially stable, changeless vision of something called

`English theology' as `a middle way, a way that concentrated on fundamentals

and avoided extremes, but nevertheless was comprehensive and irenic' (p.

202). This vision of an Anglican `tradition of moderation and compromise'

(p. 215) also pervades the later stages of Penny's book. In a rather garbled

conclusion he tries to ground his version of the Anglican via media on an

ostensibly rather unlikely free will tradition linking the Kentish lay

conventicler and sect leader, Henry Hart with Archbishop William Laud. For

Penny, Laud and Hart are connected by a common espousal of frankly Arminian

opinions on the theology of grace. These, of course, are the very sorts of

firm doctrinal convictions on predestination from which White feels the need

to defend Archbishops Neile and Laud at `the bar of history' (p. 286). It

has often proved easier for historians of the English Church to agree on

Anglicanism's inherent moderation than on its positive ideological content

and here, as ever, one man's moderation turns out to be another's doctrinal

dogmatism. These distorting `Anglican' assumptions are happily peripheral to

the bulk of Penny's book which is simply a competent and interesting, if at

times necessarily tentative, account of the debates on predestination and

free will in the King's Bench prison under Mary. They are far more

destructively central to White's project. All history books are written in

some sort of tension with the existing historiography but the distorting

effects on White's argument of his basic commitment to an Anglican middle

ground are so considerable that one begins to wonder whether there might not

be something, after all, in his distinction between barefaced polemic, on

the one hand, and a scholarship in genuine dialogue both with its sources

and its interpretative rivals, on the other. (1) P. White, `The rise of

Arminianism reconsidered', Past and Present ci (1983), 34-54; W. Lamont,

`Comment: the rise of Arminianism reconsidered', ibid. cvii (1985), 227-31;

P. Lake, `Calvinism and the English Church, 1570-1635', ibid. (1987), 32-76;

N. Tyacke and P. White `Debate: the rise of Arminianism reconsidered', ibid.

cxv (1987), 36-68; S. Lambert, `Richard Montagu, Arminianism and

censorship', ibid. cxxiv (1989), 36-68. (2) R. Muller, Christ and decree,

decree, Durham, NC 1986. (3) For more support for these positions see K.

Fincham and P. Lake, `The ecclesiastical policies of James I and Charles I',

P. Lake, `The Laudian style', and A. Milton, `The Church of England, Rome

and the True Church: the demise of a Jacobean consensus', all in K. Fincham

(ed.), The early Stuart Church, London 1993. See also P. Lake, `Calvinism

and the English Church', and `Lancelot Andrewes, John Buckeridge and avant

garde conformity at the court of James I', in L. L. Peck (ed.), The mental

world of the Jacobean court, Cambridge 1992; `Anti-popery: the structure of

a prejudice', in R. Cust and A. Hughes (eds), Conflict in early Stuart

England, London 1989; `Puritanism, Arminianism and a Shropshire axe-murder',

Midland History xv (1990), 37-64; `Serving God and the times: the Calvinist

conformity of Robert Sanderson', Journal of British Studies xxvii (1988);

and `The moderate and irenic case for religious war: Joseph Hall's Via Media

in context/s', in a volume of essays on political culture in

seventeenth-century England forthcoming from Manchester University Press.

 

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