[400] See Letter, p. 270. Doubly afflicted by the wars which
were desolating Germany, and by the disorders which were rending
the Church, Melanchthon had maintained a long silence, which
was only broken on the 1st October 1552, by a touching letter
to Calvin:--"Reverend sir and very dear brother,--I should have
written you frequently, had I been able to secure trustworthy
letter-carriers. I should have preferred a conversation with you on
many questions of very serious interest, inasmuch as I set a very
high value on your judgment, and am conscious that the integrity
and candour of your mind is unexceptionable. I am at present living
as if in a wasps' nest. But perhaps I shall ere long put off this
mortal life for a brighter companionship in heaven." Full of
affection and respect for Melanchthon, whose character he venerated,
while he freely blamed him for his weakness and indecision, Calvin
made known, in turn, to the German Reformer, the struggles of all
sorts which he had to undergo at Geneva, and with which the name of
Melanchthon himself is found mixed up, owing to the astute intrigues
of the Libertines, who had an interest in involving these two great
men in mutual opposition.
Earnest desires for the continuance of their mutual
affection--disputes with Trolliet--longing for agreement in
doctrine regarding the Communion and Election.
_28th November 1552._
Nothing could have come to me more seasonably at this time than
your letter, which I received two months after its despatch. For,
in addition to the very great troubles with which I am so sorely
consumed, there is almost no day on which some new pain or anxiety
does not occur. I should, therefore, be in a short time entirely
overcome by the load of evils under which I am oppressed, did not
the Lord by his own means alleviate their severity; among which
it was no slight consolation to me to know that you are enjoying
tolerable health, such at least as your years admit of and the
delicate state of your body, and to be informed, by your own
letter, that your affection for me had undergone no change. It was
reported to me that you had been so displeased by a rather free
admonition of mine--which, however, ought to have affected you far
otherwise--that you tore the letter to pieces in the presence of
certain witnesses. But even if the messenger was not sufficiently
trustworthy, still, after a long lapse of time, his fidelity was
established by various proofs, and I was compelled at length to
suspect something. Wherefore I have learned the more gladly that
up to this time our friendship remains safe, which assuredly, as
it grew out of a heartfelt love of piety, ought to remain for
ever sacred and inviolable. But it greatly concerns us to cherish
faithfully and constantly to the end the friendship which God has
sanctified by the authority of his own name, seeing that herein is
involved either great advantage or great loss even to the whole
Church. For you see how the eyes of many are turned upon us, so
that the wicked take occasion from our dissensions to speak evil,
and the weak are only perplexed by our unintelligible disputations.
Nor, in truth, is it of little importance to prevent the suspicion
of any difference having arisen between us from being handed down
in any way to posterity; for it is worse than absurd that parties
should be found disagreeing on the very principles, after we have
been compelled to make our departure from the world. I know and
confess, moreover, that we occupy widely different positions; still,
because I am not ignorant of the place in his theatre to which God
has elevated me, there is no reason for my concealing that our
friendship could not be interrupted without great injury to the
Church. And that we may act independent of the conduct of others,
reflect, from your own feeling of the thing, how painful it would
be for me to be estranged from that man whom I both love and esteem
above all others, and whom God has not only nobly adorned with
remarkable gifts in order to make him distinguished in the eyes
of the whole Church, but has also employed as his chief minister
for conducting matters of the highest importance. And surely it is
indicative of a marvellous and monstrous insensibility, that we so
readily set at nought that sacred unanimity, by which we ought to be
bringing back into the world the angels of heaven. Meanwhile, Satan
is busy scattering here and there the seeds of discord, and our
folly is made to supply much material. At length he has discovered
fans of his own, for fanning into a flame the fires of discord. I
shall refer to what happened to us in this Church, causing extreme
pain to all the godly; and now a whole year has elapsed since we
were engaged in these conflicts. Certain worthless wretches, after
stirring up strife amongst us, in reference to the free election of
God, and the sad bondage of the human will, and after creating a
public disturbance, had nothing more plausible to urge in defence of
their grievous opposition than the authority of your name.[401] And
after they had found out how easy it was for us to refute whatever
arguments they adduced, they tried to crush us, forsooth, by this
artifice,--by asking, if we were willing openly to disagree with
you. And yet, such was the moderation observed by us, that least
of all did they extort what they were adroitly seeking to obtain.
Therefore, all my colleagues and myself openly professed to hold the
same opinion on that doctrine which you hold. Not a word escaped us,
in the whole discussion, either less honourable towards yourself
than was seemly, or calculated to diminish confidence in you.[402]
Meanwhile, nevertheless, such indefinite and reserved expression of
opinion cannot but pain me exceedingly; and it cannot but pain me,
that opportunity is being left to the evil-disposed for harassing
the Church, after our death, as often as they please; while the
conflicting parties will array against each other the opinions of
those who ought to have spoken, as with one mouth, one and the same
thing. It is neither surprising, nor a thing greatly to be lamented,
that Osiander has withdrawn himself from us; yet he withdrew only
after a violent attack. For you were long ago aware that he belonged
to that race of wild animals which are never tamed; and I always
ranked him amongst the number of those who were a disgrace to us.
And assuredly, the very first day that I saw him, I abhorred the
wicked disposition and abominable manners of the man. As often as
he felt inclined to praise the agreeable and excellent wine, he had
these words in his mouth: "I am that I am;" also, "This is the Son
of the living God;" which he manifestly produced as mockeries of the
Deity. Wherefore, I have the more frequently wondered that such a
despicable person should at all be encouraged by your indulgence.
In truth, I was particularly astonished on reading a passage in
a certain preface of yours, where, after the proof of his folly
at Worms, you commended him rather more than enough. But let him
retire: it is an advantage to us to have got rid of him. I had
rather that certain others were retained. Nevertheless,--to pass by
these also,--the opposition, which is too plainly manifest in our
modes of teaching, pains me not a little. I, for my part, am well
aware that, if any weight is due to the authority of men, it were
far more just that I should subscribe your opinions than you mine.
But that is not the question; nor is it even a thing to be desired
by the pious ministers of Christ. This, in all truth, we ought both
to seek, viz., to come to an agreement on the pure truth of God.
But, to speak candidly, religious scruples prevent me from agreeing
with you on this point of doctrine, for you appear to discuss the
freedom of the will in too philosophical a manner; and in treating
of the doctrine of election, you seem to have no other purpose,
save that you may suit yourself to the common feeling of mankind.
And it cannot be attributed to hallucination, that you, a man acute
and wise, and deeply versed in Scripture, confound the election of
God with his promises, which are universal. For nothing is more
certain than that the Gospel is addressed to all promiscuously,
but that the Spirit of faith is bestowed on the elect alone, by
peculiar privilege. The promises are universal. How does it happen,
therefore, that their efficacy is not equally felt by all? For this
reason, because God does not reveal his arm to all. Indeed, among
men but moderately skilled in Scripture, this subject needs not to
be discussed, seeing that the promises of the Gospel make offer
of the grace of Christ equally to all; and God, by the external
call, invites all who are willing to accept of salvation. Faith,
also, is a special gift. I think I have clearly expounded this
whole question, involved and intricate though it be, in a book but
very lately published. Indeed, the matter is so obvious, that no
one of sound judgment can feel persuaded otherwise, than that you
are giving out what is quite different from your real inclination.
It increases my anxiety, and at the same time my grief, to see you
in this matter to be almost unlike yourself; for I heard, when the
whole formula of the agreement of our Church with that of Zurich was
laid before you, you instantly seized a pen and erased that sentence
which cautiously and prudently makes a distinction between the elect
and the reprobate. Which procedure, taking into consideration the
mildness of your disposition, not to mention other characteristics,
greatly shocked me. Accordingly, I do not ask you to endure the
reading of my book, or even a part of it, because I think it would
be useless to do so. Would that we might have an opportunity of
talking over these matters face to face! I am not ignorant of your
candour, of your transparent openness and moderation; as for your
piety, it is manifest to angels and to the whole world. Therefore,
this whole question would be easily, as I hope, arranged between
us; wherefore, if an opportunity should present itself, I would
desire nothing more than to pay you a visit. But if it shall indeed
turn out as you apprehend, it will be no slight comfort to me in
circumstances sad and grievous, to see you and embrace you before
that I shall take my departure from this world. Here we enjoy least
of all that repose which you fancy we enjoy. There is much trouble,
annoyance, and even disorder, among us. Full in view is the enemy,
who are continually imperilling our lives by new dangers. We are at
a distance of three days' journey from Burgundy. The French forces
are but an hour's march from our gates. But because nothing is more
blessed than to fight under the banner of Christ, there is no reason
why these obstacles should prevent you from paying me a visit.
Meanwhile, you will greatly oblige me by informing me of your own
and the Churches' condition.--Adieu, most distinguished sir and
heartily esteemed brother. May the Lord protect you by his power,
guide you by his Spirit, and bless your pious labours. My colleague,
and many pious and judicious men, reverently salute you.