I do not say that Calvinists never contradict any of these statements. Nor do I profess to have spread out the entire theory of Calvinism. The question now relates to their doctrine of Divine decrees.
I am fully convinced that the times demand a review and comparison of the two opposing systems, Calvinism and Arminianism. Our Calvinistic brethren, both Old and New School, are putting forth high claims in behalf of their system, and speaking of ours in very disparaging terms.
The Rev. Albert Barnes tells us, in his sermon in behalf of the Home Missionary Society, preached in 1849, that the more mind is elevated, and cultivated, and brought into connection with colleges and schools, the more likely it will be to embrace the Calvinistic form of Christianity. He thinks that Calvinists will be increased just in proportion as schools and colleges can be founded, and an intelligent and educated ministry sent out. He does not suppose that the entire mind of the west will embrace Calvinistic views, but he does “expect that a considerable portion of the educated and ruling mind will” (p. 40). He tells us, in his sermon delivered before the New School General Assembly, convened in Washington in 1852, that past history has shown that the class of minds most likely to embrace the Calvinistic system “is most likely to be found among the thinking, the sober, the educated, the firm, the conservative, and the free” (p. 10); that “the Calvinistic system identifies itself with education, and a large portion of the cultivated mind of a community will be always imbued with the sentiments of the system.” (p. 15.)
This seems to imply, whatever may be intended, that Arminianism has special affinities for ignorance; that it is more indebted to ignorance than to intelligence for its diffusion; that its chances for success will be diminished, in proportion as sound education advances, and the ministry becomes intelligent. If this be so, Arminians are pursuing a suicidal policy; for no Christian denomination has established as many colleges and academies in the same length of time as the Methodists. That Arminianism takes better than Calvinism with the masses is undeniable; but this may be because it possesses a superior adaptation to the wants of humanity. Our Saviour gave it as a distinctive mark of the ushering in of the last dispensation that the poor have the gospel preached unto them, which implies that the poor, and consequently the uneducated, may understand it.
Mr. Barnes goes further. He intimates that the different theological systems are “the result of some original peculiarity in certain classes of minds;” that “there are minds, not a few in number, or unimportant in character, which, when converted, will naturally embrace Calvinism.” He “will not undertake to say whether John Wesley could have been a Calvinist, but he can say that Jonathan Edwards could never have been anything else.” He repeats this sentiment three years after, in these words: “There are minds, indeed, and those in many respects of a high order, that will not [mark the phraseology!] see the truth of the Calvinistic system; but there are minds that can never see the truth of an opposite system. We could not perhaps undertake to say whether John Wesley could ever have been a Calvinist, but we can say that Jonathan Edwards could never have been anything else; and if there be a mind in any community formed like that of Edwards, we anticipate that it will embrace the same great system which he defended.”
Now it is inconceivable that Mr. Barnes should consider the Arminian superior or equal to the Calvinistic mind. That must be the best mental structure which is most in harmony with the best theory. The tenor of his remarks indicates clearly his opinion upon this point.
I can hardly express the astonishment which I felt upon reading this strange sentiment from so justly distinguished a writer. It appeared to me to be grossly unphilosophical, implying either that truth is not homogeneous; that contradictory propositions may be equally true; or that God has constituted some minds falsely. It is presumable that between truth and mind, in its original normal condition—mind not perverted by erroneous education, or prejudice, or passion, or depravity in any form—there will be a strict congeniality, so that truth will be preferred to error. But this doctrine implies that one set of minds will, under the same circumstances, from their peculiar natural constitution, prefer the truth, and another set reject it. It is obviously of very dangerous practical tendency. While the Calvinist may refer to it to account for his being a Calvinist, and the Arminian to account for his being an Arminian, the infidel may claim that it is from the same cause that he is an infidel. His rejecting the Bible is the natural inevitable result of the peculiar mental constitution which God gave him.
Mr. Barnes tells us that Calvinism does not appeal to passion; but, if I am not very greatly mistaken, and you may judge whether I am or not, its advocates appeal very significantly to pride of intellect. It offers gross flattery as the price of adhesion and support. What else can be inferred from the passages which I have quoted, than that by becoming Calvinists you will class yourselves with minds of a superior structure, and with the educated and cultivated, and will occupy an elevation from which you can look down upon the less favored Arminians?
A writer in the New School Quarterly Review has this remark: “Our physical frame could about as well be erect, and adapted for its purposes without a backbone, as piety be complete without Calvinism.” (Vol. i. No. I. p. 19.)
The Rev. Mr. Lowry, in his Search for Truth, claims that “the doctrine of human depravity—the complete ruin of man—the justice of his condemnation—the legal or covenant relation of Adam and his posterity—the necessity of an atonement—and its vicarious nature,” “belong exclusively to the Calvinistic system.” He admits that the “Arminian often makes use of the same phraseology as the Calvinist,” but then he rejects the “proper and scriptural sense.” “The Arminian,” he says, “attempts to connect with his system the doctrine of a vicarious atonement, because the phrase is a popular one, and he cannot well do without it; but when we come to examine its meaning, we find that lie has no claim to it whatever. He may hold on to the name, but nothing more. The substance is as different from the view which forms a part of his creed, as a city on the Atlantic coast differs from a small village in the backwoods.” (pp. 55, 56.)