LUTHER AND MELANCHTHON
1. Melanchthon in the Service of Lutheranism, 1518-30
WHEN Melanchthon was called upon to represent Lutheranism officially at
the Diet of Augsburg, while the real head of the innovation remained in
the seclusion of the Coburg (vol. ii., p. 384), he had already been in
the closest spiritual relation with Luther for twelve years.
The talented young man who had given promise of the highest
achievements in the domain of humanism, and who had taken up his
residence at Wittenberg with the intention of devoting his academic
career more particularly to the Greek classics, soon fell under
Luther’s influence. Luther not only loved and admired him, but was, all
along, determined to exploit, in the interests of his new theology,
the rare gifts of a friend and colleague thirteen years his junior.
Melanchthon not only taught the classics, but, after a while, announced
a series of lectures on the Epistle to Titus. It was due to Luther that
he thus gave himself up more to divinity and eventually cultivated it
side by side with humanism. “With all his might” Luther “drove him to
study theology.”[1054] Melanchthon’s “_Loci communes_” or elements of
theology, a scholastically conceived work on the main doctrines of
Lutheranism, was one of the results of Luther’s efforts to profit by
the excellent gifts of the colleague—who he was convinced had been
sent him by Providence—in formulating his theology and in demolishing
the olden doctrine of the Church. The “_Loci_” proved to be a work of
fundamental importance for Luther’s cause.[1055]
The character of the “_Loci_,” at once methodic and positive,
indicated the lines on which Melanchthon as a theologian was afterwards
to proceed. He invented nothing, his aim being rather to clothe
Luther’s ideas in clear, comprehensive and scholastic language—so
far as this could be done. His carefully chosen wording, together
with his natural dislike for exaggeration or unnecessary harshness
of expression, helped him in many instances so to tone down what was
offensive in Luther’s doctrines and opinions as to render them, in
their humanistic dress, quite acceptable to many scholars. As a matter
of fact, however, all his polish and graceful rhetoric often merely
served to conceal the lack of ideas, or the contradictions. The great
name he had won for himself in the field of humanism by his numerous
publications, which vied with those of Reuchlin and Erasmus—his
friends called him “_praeceptor Germaniae_”—went to enhance the
importance of his theological works amongst those who either sided with
Luther or were wavering.
_Earlier Relations of Luther with Melanchthon._
As professor, Melanchthon had at the outset an audience of from five to
six hundred, and, later, his hearers numbered as many as 1500. He was
perfectly aware that this was due to the renown which the University
of Wittenberg had acquired through Luther, and the success of their
common enterprise bound him still more closely to the ecclesiastical
innovation. To the very end of his life he laboured in the interests
of Lutheranism in the lecture-hall, at religious disputations, by
his printed works, his memoranda, and his letters, by gaining new
friends and by acting as intermediary when dissension threatened.—In
his translation of the Bible Luther found a most willing and helpful
adviser in this expert linguist. It is worthy of note that he never
took the degree of Doctor of Divinity or showed the slightest desire
to be made equal to his colleagues in this respect. Unlike the rest of
his Wittenberg associates, he had not been an ecclesiastic previous to
leaving Catholicism, nor would he ever consent to undertake the task of
preacher in the Lutheran Church, or to receive Lutheran Orders, though
for some years he, on Sundays, was wont to expound in Latin the Gospels
to the students; these homilies resulted in his Postils. When Luther at
last, in 1520, persuaded him to marry the daughter of the Burgomaster
of Wittenberg, he thereby succeeded in chaining to the scene of his
own labours this valuable and industrious little man with all his vast
treasures of learning. At the end of the year Melanchthon, under the
pseudonym of Didymus Faventinus, composed his first defence of Luther,
in which he, the Humanist, entirely vindicated against Aristotle and
the Universities his attacks upon the rights of natural reason.[1056]
As early as December 14, 1518, Luther, under the charm of his
friend’s talents, had spoken of him in a letter to Johann Reuchlin as
a “wonderful man in whom almost everything is supernatural.”[1057]
On September 17, 1523, he said to his friend Theobald Billicanus of
Nördlingen: “I value Philip as I do myself, not to speak of the fact
that he shames, nay, excels me by his learning and the integrity of his
life (‘_eruditione et integritate vitae_’).”[1058] Five years later
Luther penned the following testimony in his favour in the Preface
at the commencement of Melanchthon’s Exposition of the Epistle to
the Colossians (1528-29): “He proceeds [in his writings] quietly and
politely, digs and plants, sows and waters, according to the gifts
which God has given him in rich measure”; he himself, on the other
hand, was “very stormy and pugnacious” in his works, but he was “the
rough hewer, who has to cut out the track and prepare the way.”[1059]
In the Preface to the edition of his own Latin works in 1545 he praises
Melanchthon’s “_Loci_” and classes them amongst the “methodic books” of
which every theologian and bishop would do well to make use; “how much
the Lord has effected by means of this instrument which He has sent me,
not merely in worldly learning but also in theology, is demonstrated by
his works.”[1060]
The extravagant praise accorded by Luther to his fellow-worker was
returned by the other in equal measure. When deprived of Luther’s
company during the latter’s involuntary stay at the Wartburg, he wrote
as follows to a friend: “The torch of Israel was lighted by him, and
should it be extinguished what hope would remain to us?... Ah, could I
but purchase by my death the life of him who is at this time the most
divine being upon earth!”[1061] A little later he says in the same
style: “Our Elias has left us; we wait and hope in him. My longing for
him torments me daily.”[1062] Luther was not unwilling to figure as
Elias and wrote to his friend that he (Melanchthon) excelled him in the
Evangel, and should he himself perish, would succeed him as an Eliseus
with twice the spirit of Elias.
We cannot explain these strange mutual encomiums merely by the love
of exaggeration usual with the Humanists. Luther as a rule did not
pander to the taste of the Humanists, and as for Melanchthon, he really
entertained the utmost respect and devotion for the “venerable father”
and “most estimable doctor” until, at last, difference of opinion and
character brought about a certain unmistakable coolness between the two
men.
Melanchthon, albeit with great moderation and reserve, never quitted
the reformer’s standpoint as regards either theory or practice. Many
Catholic contemporaries were even of opinion that he did more harm to
the Church by his prudence and apparent moderation than Luther by all
his storming. His soft-spoken manner and advocacy of peace did not,
however, hinder him from voicing with the utmost bitterness his hatred
of everything Catholic, and his white-hot prejudice in favour of the
innovations. He wrote, for instance, at the end of 1525 in an official
memorandum (“_de iure reformandi_”) intended for the evangelical
Princes and Estates that, even should “war and scandal” ensue, still
they must not desist from the introduction and maintenance of the new
religious system, for our cause “touches the honour of Christ,” and
the doctrine of Justification by Faith alone in particular, so he
says, “will not suffer the contrary.” Why heed the complaints of the
Catholics and the Empire? Christ witnessed “the destruction of the
Kingdom of the Jews” and yet proceeded with His work. According to
this memorandum there was no need of waiting for the Pope’s permission
to “reform” things; the people are everywhere “bound to accept the
doctrine [of Luther]” while evangelical Princes and authorities are
“not bound to obey the edicts [of the Empire]; hence, in fairness, they
cannot be scolded as schismatics.”[1063] For such a ruthless invitation
to overturn the old-established order Melanchthon sought to reassure
himself and others by alleging the “horrible abuses” of Popery which
it had become necessary to remove; the war was to be only against
superstition and idolatry, the tyranny of the ecclesiastical system
challenging resistance.[1064]
Then and ever afterwards the Pope appeared to him in the light of
Antichrist, with whom no reconciliation was possible unless indeed he
yielded to Luther.
In the same year in which he wrote the above his correspondence begins
to betray the anxiety and apprehension which afterwards never ceased
to torture him, due partly to what he witnessed of the results of the
innovations, partly to his own natural timidity. The Peasant War of
1525 plunged him into dismay. There he saw to what lengths the abuse of
evangelical freedom could lead, once the passions of the people were
let loose. At the express wish of the Elector Ludwig of the Palatinate
he wrote in vigorous and implacable language a refutation of the
Peasant Articles; the pen of the scholar was, however, powerless to
stay the movement which was carrying away the people.
A work of much greater importance fell to him when he was invited to
take part in the Visitation of the churches in the Saxon Electorate,
then in a state of utter chaos; it was then that he wrote, in 1527, the
Visitation-booklet for the use of the ecclesiastical inspectors.
In the directions he therein gave for the examination of pastors
and preachers he modified to such an extent the asperities of the
Lutheran principles that he was accused of reacting in the direction
of Catholicism, particularly by the stress he laid on the motive of
fear of God’s punishments, on greater earnestness in penance and on
the keeping of the “law.” Luther’s preaching of the glad Evangel had
dazzled people and made them forgetful of the “law” and Commandments.
According to Melanchthon this was in great part the fault of the
Lutheran preachers.
“In their addresses to the people,” he complains in 1526, “they barely
mention the fear of God. Yet this, and not faith alone, is what they
ought to teach.... On the other hand, they are all the more zealous
in belabouring the Pope.” Besides this they are given to fighting
with each other in the pulpit; the authorities ought to see that only
the “more reasonable are allowed to preach and that the others hold
their tongues, according to Paul’s injunction.”[1065] “They blame our
opponents,” he writes of these same preachers in 1528, “for merely
serving their bellies by their preaching, but they themselves appear
only to work for their own glory, so greatly do they allow themselves
to be carried away by anger.”[1066]
“The depravity of the country population” he declares in a letter of
the same year to be intolerable; it must necessarily call down the
heavy hand of God’s chastisement. “The deepest hatred of the Gospel”
was, however, to be found “in those who play the part of our patrons
and protectors.” Here he is referring to certain powerful ones; he
also laments “the great indifference of the Court.” All this shows the
end to be approaching: “Believe me, the Day of Judgment is not far
distant.” “When I contemplate the conditions of our age, I am troubled
beyond belief.”[1067]
Regarding his recommendation of penance and confession during the
Visitations, a conversation which he relates to Camerarius as having
taken place at the table of a highly placed patron of the innovations,
is very characteristic. A distinguished guest having complained of
this recommendation, the patron chimed in with the remark, that the
people must “hold tight to the freedom they had secured, otherwise
they would again be reduced to servitude by the theologians”; the
latter were little by little re-introducing the old traditions. Thus
you see, Melanchthon adds, “how, not only our enemies, but even those
who are supposed to be favourably bent, judge of us.”[1068] Yet
Melanchthon had merely required a general sort of confession as a
voluntary preparation for Holy Communion.
Melanchthon was also openly in favour of the penalty of
excommunication; in order to keep a watch on the preachers he
introduced the system of Superintendents.
In the matter of marriage contracts his experience led him to the
following conclusion: “It is clearly expedient that the marriage bond
should be tightened rather than loosened”; in this the older Church
had been in the right. “You know,” he writes, “what blame (‘_quantum
sceleris_’) our party has incurred by its wrong treatment of marriage
matters. All the preachers everywhere ought to exert themselves
to put an end to these scandals. But many do nothing but publicly
calumniate the monks and the authorities in their discourses.” And yet
in the same letter he sanctions the re-marriage of a party divorced
for some unknown reason, a sanction he had hitherto been unwilling
to grant for fear of the example being followed by others; he only
stipulates that his sanction is not to be announced publicly; the
sermons must, on the contrary, censure the license which is becoming
the fashion.[1069]
Any open and vigorous opposition to Luther’s views, so detrimental
to the inviolability of the marriage tie, was not in accordance with
Melanchthon’s nature. He, like Luther, condemned the religious vows
on the strange ground that those who took them were desirous of
gaining merit in the sight of God. Hence he too came to invite nuns to
marry.[1070] And yet, at the same time, he, like Luther, again declared
virginity to be a “higher gift,” one which even ranked above marriage
(“_virginitas donum est praestantius coniugio_”).[1071]
He was gradually drawn more and more into questions concerning the
public position of the Lutherans and had to undertake various journeys
on this account, because Luther, being under the Ban, was unable to
leave the Electorate, and because his violent temper did not suit him
for delicate negotiations. Melanchthon erred rather on the side of
timidity.
When, in 1528, in consequence of the Pack business, there seemed a
danger of war breaking out on account of religion, he became the prey
of great anxiety. He feared for the good name and for the evangelical
cause should bloody dissensions arise in the Empire through the
fault of the Princes who favoured Luther. On May 18 he wrote to the
Elector Johann on no account to commence war on behalf of the Evangel,
especially as the Emperor had made proposals of peace. “I must take
into consideration, for instance, what a disgrace it would be to the
Holy Gospel were your Electoral Highness to commence war without
first having tried every means for securing peace.”[1072] There can
be no doubt that the terrible experience of the Peasant War made him
cautious, but we must not forget, that such considerations did not
hinder him from declaring frequently later, particularly previous to
the Schmalkalden War, that armed resistance was allowable, nay, called
for, nor even from going so far as to address the people in language
every whit as warlike as that of Luther.[1073] In the case of the
hubbub arising out of the famous forged documents connected with the
name of Pack, Luther, however, seemed to him to be going much too
far. “Duke George could prove with a clear conscience that it was a
question of a mere forgery and of a barefaced deception,”[1074] got
up to the detriment of the Catholic party. On Luther’s persisting
in his affirmation that a league existed for the destruction of the
Evangelicals, and that the “enemies of the Evangel” really cherished
“this evil intention and will,”[1075] Duke George did, as a matter
of fact, take him severely to task in a work to which Luther at once
replied in another teeming with unseemly abuse.[1076]
Melanchthon, like the rest of Luther’s friends who shared his opinion,
saw their hopes of peace destroyed. They read with lively disapproval
Luther’s charges against the Duke, who was described as a thief, as
one “eaten up by Moabitish pride and arrogance,” who played the fool
in thus raging against Christ; as one possessed of the devil, who in
spite of all his denials meditated the worst against the Lutherans, who
allowed himself to be served in his Chancery by a gang of donkeys and
who, like all his friends, was devil-ridden. Concerning the impression
created, Melanchthon wrote to Myconius that Luther had indeed tried
to exercise greater restraint than usual, but that “he ought to have
defended himself more becomingly. All of us who have read his pages
stand aghast; unfortunately such writings are popular, they pass
from hand to hand and are studied, being much thought of by fools
(‘_praedicantur a stultis_’).”[1077]
It was only with difficulty that he and his Wittenberg friends
dissuaded Luther from again rushing into the fray.
In 1529 Melanchthon, at Luther’s desire, accompanied the Elector of
Saxony to the Diet of Spires. The protest there made by the Lutheran
Princes and Estates again caused him great concern as he foresaw the
unhappy consequences to Germany of the rupture it betokened, and the
danger in which it involved the Protestant cause. The interference of
the Zwinglians in German affairs also filled him with apprehension, for
of their doctrines, so far as they were opposed to those of Wittenberg,
he cherished a deep dislike imbibed from Luther. The political alliance
which, at Spires, the Landgrave of Hesse sought to promote between
the two parties, appeared to him highly dangerous from the religious
point of view. He now regretted that he had formerly allowed himself to
be more favourably disposed to Zwinglianism by the Landgrave. In his
letters he was quite open in the expression of his annoyance at the
results of the Diet of Spires, though he himself had there done his
best to increase the falling away from Catholicism, and, with words
of peace on his lips, to render the estrangement irremediable. In his
first allusion to the now famous protest he speaks of it as a “horrid
thing.”[1078] His misgivings increased after his return home, and he
looked forward to the future with anxiety. He was pressing in his
monitions against any alliance with the Zwinglians. On May 17, 1529,
he wrote to Hieronymus Baumgärtner, a member of the Nuremberg Council:
“Some of us do not scorn an alliance with the [Zwinglian] Strasburgers,
but do you do your utmost to prevent so shameful a thing.”[1079] “The
pains of hell have encompassed me,” so he describes to a friend his
anxieties. We have delayed too long, “I would rather die than see ours
defiled by an alliance with the Zwinglians.”[1080] “I know that the
Zwinglian doctrine of the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ is
untrue and not to be answered for before God.”[1081]
After he had assisted Luther in the religious discussion held at
Marburg between him and Zwingli in the autumn of 1529, and had
witnessed the fruitless termination of the conference, he again voiced
his intense grief at the discord rampant among the innovators, and
the hopelessness of any effort to reunite Christians. “I am quite
unable to mitigate the pains I suffer on account of the position of
ecclesiastical affairs,” so he complains to Camerarius. “Not a day
passes that I do not long for death. But enough of this, for I do not
dare to describe in this letter the actual state of things.”[1082]
Luther was much less down-hearted at that time, having just succeeded
in overcoming a persistent attack of anxiety and remorse of conscience.
His character, so vastly different from that of his friend, now, after
the victory he had won over his “temptations,” was more than ever
inclined to violence and defiance. Luther, such at least is his own
account, refused to entertain any fear concerning the success of his
cause, which was God’s, in spite of the storm threatening at Augsburg.
_Melanchthon at the Diet of Augsburg, 1530._
At Augsburg the most difficult task imaginable was assigned to
Melanchthon, as the principal theological representative of
Lutheranism. His attitude at the Diet was far from frank and logical.
He made his own position quite puzzling by his vain endeavour to unite
things incapable of being united, and to win, by actual or apparent
concessions, temporary toleration for the new religious party within
the Christian Church to which the Empire belonged. Owing to his
lack of theological perspicuity he does not appear to have seen as
clearly as Luther how hopeless was the rupture between old and new. He
still had hopes that the Catholics would gradually come over to the
Wittenberg standpoint when once an agreement had been reached regarding
certain outward and subordinate matters, as he thought them. “Real
unification,” as Johannes Janssen says very truly, “was altogether
out of the question.” For the point at issue in this tremendous
ecclesiastical contest was not this or that religious dogma, this or
that addition or alteration in Church discipline; it was not even
a question merely of episcopal jurisdiction and the sense in which
this was understood and allowed by Protestant theologians; what was
fundamentally at stake was no less than the acceptance or rejection of
the doctrine of the infallibility of the Church, and the recognition
or non-recognition of the Church as a Divine and human institution
of grace, resting upon the perpetual sacrifice and priesthood. The
Protestants rejected the dogma of the infallibility of the Church
and set up for themselves a novel ecclesiastical system, they also
rejected the perpetual sacrifice in that they denied the doctrine of
the perpetual priesthood.... Hence the attempts at reconciliation
made at Augsburg, as indeed all later attempts, were bound to come to
nothing.[1083]
In the “Confession of Augsburg,” where the author shows himself a
past-master in the art of presentation, Melanchthon presents the
Lutheran doctrine under the form most acceptable to the opposite
party, calculated, too, to prove its connection with the teaching of
the Roman Church as vouched for by the Fathers. He passes over in
silence certain capital elements of Lutheran dogma, for instance, man’s
unfreedom in the performance of moral acts pleasing to God, likewise
predestination to hell,[1084] and even the rejection on principle
of the Papal Primacy, the denial of Indulgences and of Purgatory. A
Catholic stamp was impressed on the doctrine of the Eucharist so as to
impart to it the semblance of the doctrine of Transubstantiation; even
in the doctrine of justification, any clear distinction between the
new teaching of the justifying power of faith alone and the Catholic
doctrine of faith working by love (“_fides formata charitate_”) is
wanting. Where, in the second part, he deals with certain traditions
and abuses which he holds to have been the real cause of the schism,
he persists in minimising the hindrances to mutual agreement, or at
least to toleration of the new religious party. According to this
statement, all that Protestants actually demanded was permission
to receive communion under both kinds, the marriage of priests, the
abolition of private masses, obligatory confession, fasts, religious
vows, etc. The bishops, who were also secular princes, were to retain
their jurisdiction as is expressely stated at the end, though they were
to see that the true Gospel was preached in their dioceses, and not to
interfere with the removal of abuses.[1085]
In the specious and seductive explanation of the “Confession,” errors
which had never been advocated by the Church were refuted, while
propositions were propounded at great length which had never been
questioned by her, in both cases the aim being to win over the reader
to the author’s side and to divert his attention from the actual
subject of the controversy.
Luther, to whom the work was submitted when almost complete, allowed
it to pass practically without amendment. He saw in it Melanchthon’s
“soft-spoken manner,” but nevertheless gave it his assent.[1086]
He was quite willing to leave the matter in the hands of such trusty
and willing friends as Melanchthon and his theological assistants at
Augsburg, and to rely on the prudence and strength of the Princes
and Estates of the new profession there assembled. Secure in the
“Gospel-proviso” the Coburg hermit was confident of not being a loser
even in the event of the negotiations not issuing favourably. Christ
was not to be deposed from His throne; to “Belial” He at least could
not succumb.[1087]
The “Confession of Augsburg” was not at all intended in the first
instance as a symbolic book, but rather as a deed presented to the
Empire on the part of the protesting Princes and Estates to demonstrate
their innocence and vindicate their right to claim toleration. During
the years that followed it was likewise regarded as a mere Profession
on the part of the Princes, i.e. as a theological declaration standing
on the same level as the Schmalkalden agreement, and forming the bond
of the protesting Princes in the presence of the Empire; each one
was still free to amplify, explain, or modify the faith within his
own territories. Finally, however, after the religious settlement at
Augsburg in 1555, Melanchthon’s work began to be regarded as a binding
creed, and this character was to all practical purposes stamped on it
by the “Concord” in 1580.[1088]
On August 3, 1530, a “Confutation of the Confession of Augsburg,”
composed by Catholic theologians, was read before the Estates at the
Diet of Augsburg. The Emperor called upon the Protestants to return to
the Church, threatening, in case of refusal, that he, as the “Guardian
and Protector” of Christendom, would institute proceedings. Yet in
spite of this he preferred to follow a milder course of action and to
seek a settlement by means of lengthy “transactions.”
The “Reply” to the Confession (later known as “_Confutatio Confessionis
Augustanæ_”), which was the result of the deliberations of a Catholic
commission, set forth excellent grounds for rejecting the errors
contained in Melanchthon’s work, and also threw a clear light on
his reservations and intentional ambiguities.[1089] Melanchthon’s
answer was embodied in his “_Apologia Confessionis Augustanæ_,”
which well displays its author’s ability and also his slipperiness,
and later took its place, side by side with the Confession, as
the second official exposition of Lutheranism. It energetically
vindicates Luther’s distinctive doctrines, and above all declares,
again quite falsely, that the doctrine of justificatory faith was
the old, traditional Catholic doctrine. Nor does it refrain from
strong and insulting language, particularly in the official German
version. The opposite party it describes as shameless liars, rascals,
blasphemers, hypocrites, rude asses, hopeless, senseless sophists,
traitors, etc.[1090] This, together with the “_Confessio Augustana_,”
was formally subscribed at the Schmalkalden meeting in 1537 by all
the theologians present at the instance of the Evangelical Estates.
Thus it came to rank with the Confession of the Princes and, like the
former, was incorporated later, in both the Latin and the oldest German
version, in the symbolic books.[1091]
Melanchthon, in the “_Apologia_,” re-stated anew the charges already
raised in the “_Confessio_” against Catholic dogma, nor did the proofs
and assurances to the contrary of the authors of the “_Confutatio_”
deter him from again foisting on the Catholic Church doctrines she had
never taught. Thus he speaks of her as teaching, that the forgiveness
of sins could be merited simply by man’s own works (without the grace
and the merits of Christ); he also will have it that the effect of
grace had formerly been altogether lost sight of until it was at last
brought again to light—though as a matter of fact “it had been taught
throughout the whole world.”[1092]
We must come back in detail to the allegations made in the Confession,
and more particularly in the Apology, that Augustine was in favour of
the Lutheran doctrine of Justification; this is all the more necessary
since the Reformers, at the outset, were fond of claiming the authority
of Augustine on their behalf. At the same time the admissions contained
in Melanchthon’s letters will show us more clearly the morality of his
behaviour in a matter of such capital importance.
At the time when the Confession was printed it had already long been
clear to him that the principal exponent of the doctrine of grace in
the ancient Church, viz. St. Augustine, was against the Protestant
conception of justification.
On this subject he expressed himself openly at the end of May, 1531,
in a confidential letter to Brenz. Here he speaks of the doctrine of
Augustine as “a fancy from which we must turn aside our mind (‘_animus
revocandus ab Augustini imaginatione_’)”; his ideas disagreed with St.
Paul’s doctrine; whoever followed Augustine must teach like him, “that
we are regarded as just by God, through fulfilling the commandments
under the action of the Holy Ghost, and not through faith alone.”[1093]
In spite of this, Melanchthon, in the “_Confessio Augustana_,” had
the courage to appeal publicly to Augustine as the most prominent and
clearest witness to the Lutheran view of faith and justification, and
this he did almost at the very time when penning the above letter,
viz. in April or May, 1531, when the first draft of the “_Confessio_”
was sent to the press.[1094] According to the authentic version,
Melanchthon’s words were: “That, concerning the doctrine of faith,
no new interpretation had been introduced, could be proved from
Augustine, who treats diligently of this matter and teaches that we
obtain grace and are justified before God by faith in Christ and not
by works, as his whole book ‘_De Spiritu et littera_’ proves.”[1095]
The writer of these words felt it necessary to explain to Brenz why
he had ventured to claim this Father as being in “entire agreement.”
He had done so because this was “the general opinion concerning him
(‘_propter publicam de eo persuasionem_’),[1096] though, as a matter
of fact, he did not sufficiently expound the justificatory potency
of faith.” The “general opinion” was, however, merely a groundless
view invented by Luther and his theologians and accepted by a
certain number of those who blindly followed him. In the Apology of
the Confession, he continues, “I expounded more fully the doctrine
[of faith alone], but was not able to speak there as I do now to
you, although, on the whole, I say the same thing; it was not to be
thought of on account of the calumnies of our opponents.” Thus in
the Apology also, even when it was a question of the cardinal point
of the new teaching, Melanchthon was of set purpose having recourse
to dissimulation. If he had only to fear the calumnies of opponents,
surely his best plan would have been to silence them by telling them
in all frankness what the Lutheran position really was; otherwise he
had no right to stigmatise their attack on weak points of Luther’s
doctrine as mere calumnies. Yet, even in the “_Apologia_,” he appeals
repeatedly to Augustine in order to shelter the main Lutheran
contentions concerning faith, grace, and good works under the ægis of
his name.[1097]
Melanchthon’s endeavour to secure for Protestantism a place within the
older Church and to check the threatened repressive measures, led him
to write letters to the Bishop of Augsburg, to Campeggio, the Papal
Legate, and to his secretary, in which he declares stoutly, that the
restoration of ecclesiastical harmony simply depended on two points,
viz. the sanction of communion under both kinds and the marriage of the
clergy, as though forsooth the two sides agreed in belief and as though
his whole party acknowledged the Pope and the Roman Church.
In the letter to Cardinal Campeggio he even assures him: “We reverence
the authority of the Pope of Rome and the whole hierarchy, and only beg
he may not cast us off.... For no other reason are we hated as we are
in Germany than because we defend and uphold the dogmas of the Roman
Church with so much persistence. And this loyalty to Christ and to the
Roman Church we shall preserve to our last breath, even should the
Church refuse to receive us back into favour.” The words “Roman Church”
were not here taken in the ordinary sense, however much the connection
might seem to warrant this; Melanchthon really means his pet phantom
of the ancient Roman Church, though he saw fit to speak of fidelity to
this phantom in the very words in which people were wont to protest
their fidelity to the existing Roman Church. He further asked of the
Cardinal toleration for the Protestant peculiarities, on the ground
that they were “insignificant matters which might be allowed or passed
over in silence”; at any rate “some pretext might easily be found for
tolerating them, at least until a Council should be summoned.”[1098]
Campeggio and his advisers refused to be led astray by such assurances.
On the other hand, some representatives of the Curia, theologians or
dignitaries of the German Church, allowed themselves to be cajoled by
Melanchthon’s promises to the extent of entering into negotiations with
him in the hope of bringing him back to the Church.[1099] Such was, for
instance, in 1537, the position of Cardinal Sadolet.
To Sadolet, Johann Fabri sent the following warning: “Only the man who
is clever enough to cure an incurable malady, will succeed in leading
Philip—a real Vertumnus and Proteus—back to the right path.”[1100]
Melanchthon was nevertheless pleased to be able to announce that
Cardinal Campeggio had stated he could grant a dispensation for
Communion under both kinds and priestly marriage.[1101]
With this Luther was not much impressed: “I reply,” he wrote to his
friends in the words of Amsdorf, “that I s—— on the dispensation of
the Legate and his master; _we_ can find dispensations enough.”[1102]
His own contention always was and remained the following: “As I have
always declared, I am ready to concede everything, but they must let us
have the Evangel.”[1103] To Spalatin, he says later: “Are we to crave
of Legate and Pope what they may be willing to grant us? Do, I beg you,
speak to them in the fashion of Amsdorf.”[1104]
On the abyss which really separated the followers of the new faith
from the Church, Luther’s coarse and violent writing, “Vermanũg an die
Geistlichen zu Augsburg,” throws a lurid light. Luther also frequently
wrote to cheer Melanchthon and to remind him of the firmness which was
needed.
Melanchthon was a prey to unspeakable inward terrors, and had admitted
to Luther that he was “worn out with wretched cares.”[1105] Luther
felt called upon to encourage him by instancing his own case. He was
even more subject to such fits of anxiety than Melanchthon, but,
however weak inwardly, he never winced before outward troubles or ever
manifested his friend’s timidity. Melanchthon ought to display the same
strength in public dealings as he did in his inward trials.[1106]
The Landgrave Philip, a zealous supporter of Luther and Zwingli, was
not a little incensed at Melanchthon’s attempts at conciliation, the
more so as the latter persisted in refusing to have anything to do with
Zwinglianism. In one of his dispatches to his emissaries at Augsburg,
Philip says: “For mercy’s sake stop the little game of Philip, that
shy and worldly-wise reasoner—to call him nothing else.”[1107]
The Nuremberg delegates also remonstrated with him. Baumgärtner of
Nuremberg, who was present at the Diet of Augsburg, relates that Philip
flew into a temper over the negotiations and startled everybody by his
cursing and swearing; he was determined to have the whole say himself
and would not listen to the Hessian envoys and those of the cities. He
“did nothing” but run about and indulge in unchristian manœuvres; he
put forward “unchristian proposals” which it was “quite impossible” to
accept; “then he would say, ‘Oh, would that we were away!’” The result
would be, that, owing to this duplicity, the “tyrants would only be all
the more severe”; “no one at the Reichstag had hitherto done the cause
of the Evangel so much harm as Philip”; it was high time for Luther “to
interfere with Philip and warn pious Princes against him.”[1108]
Amongst the Protestant so-called “Concessions” which came under
discussion in connection with the “_Confutatio_” was that of
episcopal jurisdiction, a point on which Melanchthon and Brenz laid
great stress. It was, however, of such a nature as not to offend in
the least the protesting Princes and towns. In the event of their
sanctioning the innovations, the bishops were simply “to retain their
secular authority”: Melanchthon and Brenz, here again, wished to
maintain the semblance of continuity with the older Church, and, by
means of the episcopate, hoped to strengthen their own position. Such
temporising, and the delay it involved, at least served the purpose
of gaining time, a matter of the utmost importance to the Protestant
representatives.[1109]
Another point allowed by Melanchthon, viz. the omission of the word
“alone” in the statement “man is justified by faith,” was also of
slight importance, for all depended on the sense attached to it,
and the party certainly continued to exclude works and charity.
Melanchthon, however, also agreed that it should be taught that
penance has three essential elements, viz. contrition, confession of
sin and satisfaction, i.e. active works of penance, “a concession,”
Döllinger says, “which, if meant seriously, would have thrown the whole
new doctrine of justification into confusion.”[1110] It may be that
Melanchthon, amidst his manifold worries, failed to perceive this.
At any rate, all his efforts after a settlement were ruled by the
“Proviso of the Gospel”[1111] as propounded by Luther to his friends
in his letters from the Coburg. According to this tacit reservation
no concession which in any way militated against the truth or the
interests of the Evangel could be regarded as valid. “Once we have
evaded coercion and obtained peace,” so runs Luther’s famous admonition
to Melanchthon, “then it will be an easy matter to amend our wiles
and slips because God’s mercy watches over us.”[1112] “All our
concessions,” Melanchthon wrote, “are so much hampered with exceptions
that I apprehend the bishops will suspect we are offering them chaff
instead of grain.”[1113]
A letter, intended to be reassuring, written from Augsburg on
September 11 by Brenz, who was somewhat more communicative than
Melanchthon, and addressed to his friend Isenmann, who was anxious
concerning the concessions being offered, may serve further to
elucidate the policy of Melanchthon and Brenz. Brenz writes: “If you
consider the matter carefully you will see that our proposals are such
as to make us appear to have yielded to a certain extent; whereas, in
substance, we have made no concessions whatsoever. This they plainly
understand. What, may I ask, are the Popish fasts so long as we hold
the doctrine of freedom?” The real object of the last concession,
he had already pointed out, was to avoid giving the Emperor and his
Court the impression that they were “preachers of sensuality.” The
jurisdiction conceded to the bishops will not harm us so long as they
“agree to our _Via media_ and conditions”; they themselves will then
become new men, thanks to the Evangel; “for always and everywhere we
insist upon the proviso of freedom and purity of doctrine. Having
this, what reason would you have to grumble at the jurisdiction of
the bishops?”[1114] It will, on the contrary, be of use to us, and
will serve as a buffer against the wilfulness of secular dignitaries,
who oppress our churches with heavy burdens. “Besides, it is not to
be feared that our opponents will agree to the terms.” The main point
is, so Melanchthon’s confidential fellow-labourer concludes, that only
thus can we hope to secure “toleration for our doctrine.”[1115]
When Melanchthon penned this confession only a few days had elapsed
since Luther, in response to anxious letters received from Augsburg,
had intervened with a firm hand and spoken out plainly against the
concessions, and any further attempts at a diplomatic settlement.[1116]
In obedience to these directions Melanchthon began to withdraw more and
more from the position he had taken up.
The most favourable proposals of his opponents were no longer
entertained by him, and he even refused to fall in with the Emperor’s
suggestion that Catholics living in Protestant territories should
be left free to practise their religion. The Elector of Saxony’s
divines, together with Melanchthon, in a memorandum to their sovereign,
declared, on this occasion, that it was not sufficient for preachers
to preach against the Mass, but that the Princes also must refuse to
sanction it, and must forbid it. “Were we to say that Princes might
abstain from forbidding it, and that preachers only were to declaim
against it, one could well foresee what [small] effect the doctrine and
denunciations of the preachers would have.”[1117] “The theologians,”
remarks Janssen, “thus gave it distinctly to be understood that
the new doctrine could not endure without the aid of the secular
authority.”[1118] Hence, at that decisive moment, the Protestant
Princes proclaimed intolerance of Catholics as much a matter of
conscience as the confiscation of Church property. To the demand of the
Emperor for restitution of the temporalities, the Princes, supported
by the theologians, answered, that “they did not consider themselves
bound to obey, since this matter concerned their conscience, against
which there ran no prescription” (on the part of those who had been
despoiled).[1119]
Thus, with Melanchthon’s knowledge and approval, the two principal
factors in the whole Reformation, viz. intolerance and robbery of
Church property, played their part even here at the turning-point of
German history.
On his return from the Coburg to Wittenberg, as already described
(p. 45 f.), Luther in his sermons showed how the Evangel which
he proclaimed had to be preached, even at the expense of war and
universal desolation: “The cry now is, that, had the Evangel not been
preached, things would never have fallen out thus, but everything
would have remained calm and peaceful. No, my friend, but things will
improve; Christ speaks: ‘I have more things to say to you and to
judge’; the fact is you must leave this preaching undisturbed, else
there shall not remain to you one stick nor one stone upon another,
and you may say: ‘These words are not mine, but the words of the
Father.’” (cp. John viii. 26).[1120]
Yet, at the time of the Diet of Augsburg, Luther, for all his
inexorable determination, was not unmindful of the temporal assistance
promised by the Princes. He hinted at this with entire absence of
reserve in a letter, not indeed to Melanchthon, who was averse to
war, but to Spalatin: “Whatever the issue [of the Diet] may be, do
not fear the victors and their craft. Luther is still at large and so
is the Macedonian” (i.e. Philip of Hesse, whom Melanchthon had thus
nicknamed after the warlike Philip of Macedonia). The “Macedonian”
seemed to Luther a sort of “Ismael,” like unto Agar’s son, whom Holy
Scripture had described as a wild man, whose hand is raised against
all (Gen. xvi. 12). Luther was aware that Philip had quitted the Diet
in anger and was now nursing his fury, as it were, in the desert. “He
is at large,” he says in biblical language, “and thence may arise
prudence to meet cunning and Ismael to oppose the enemy. Be strong and
act like men. There was nothing to fear if they fought with blunted
weapons.”[1121] Philip’s offer of a refuge in Hesse had helped to
render Luther more defiant.[1122]
Exhortations such as these increased the unwillingness of his friends
at Augsburg to reach any settlement by way of real concessions. All
hopes of a peaceful outcome of the negotiations were thus doomed.
The Reichstagsabschied which finally, on November 19, 1530, brought
Parliament to an end, witnessed to the hopelessness of any lasting
peace; it required, however, that the bishoprics, monasteries, and
churches which had been destroyed should be re-erected, and that the
parishes still faithful to Catholicism should enjoy immunity under pain
of the ban of the Empire.[1123]
Looking back at Melanchthon’s attitude at the Diet, we can understand
the severe strictures of recent historians.
“We cannot get rid of the fact,” writes Georg Ellinger, Melanchthon’s
latest Protestant biographer, “that, on the whole, his attitude at
the Diet of Augsburg does not make a pleasing impression.” “That the
apprehension of seeing the realisation of his principles frustrated
led him to actions which can in no wise be approved, may be freely
admitted.” It is true that Ellinger emphasises very strongly the
“mitigating circumstances,” but he also remarks: “He had no real
comprehension of the importance of the ecclesiastical forms involved
[in his concessions], and this same lack of penetration served him
badly even later. The method by which he attempted to put his plans
into execution displays nothing of greatness but rather that petty
slyness which seeks to overreach opponents by the use of ambiguous
words.... He had recourse to this means in the hope of thus arriving
more easily at his goal.” His “little tricks,” he proceeds, “at
least delayed the business for a while,” to the manifest advantage
of the Protestant cause.[1124] He candidly admits that Melanchthon,
both before and after the Diet of Augsburg, owing to his weak and
not entirely upright character, was repeatedly caught “having
recourse to the subterfuges of a slyness not far removed from
dissimulation.”[1125] In proof of this he instances the expedient
invented by Melanchthon for the purpose of evading the conference with
Zwingli at Marburg which was so distasteful to him. “The Elector was
to behave as though Melanchthon had, in a letter, requested permission
to attend such a conference, and had been refused it. Melanchthon
would then allege this to the Landgrave of Hesse [who was urging him
to attend the conference] ‘in order that His Highness may be pacified
by so excellent an excuse.’”[1126] Ellinger, most impartially, also
adduces other devices to which Melanchthon had recourse at a later
date.[1127]
The conduct of the leader of the Protestant party at the Diet of
Augsburg, more particularly his concern in the document addressed
to the Legate Campeggio, is stigmatised as follows by Karl Sell,
the Protestant historian. “This tone, this sudden reduction of the
whole world-stirring struggle to a mere wrangle about trifles, and
this recognition, anything but religious, of the Roman Church, comes
perilously near conscious deception. Did Melanchthon really believe it
possible to outwit diplomats so astute by such a blind? In my opinion
it is unfair to reproach him with treason or even servility; what he
was guilty of was merely duplicity.” Campeggio, Sell continues, of
these and similar advances made by the Protestant spokesmen, wrote:
“They answer as heretics are wont, viz. in cunning and ambiguous
words.”[1128]
Even in the “Theologische Realenzyklopädie des Protestantismus”
a suppressed note of disapproval of Melanchthon’s “mistakes and
weaknesses” is sounded. His attitude at the Diet, the authors of
the article on Melanchthon say, “was not so pleasing as his learned
labours on the Augsburg Confession”; “a clear insight into the actual
differences” as well as a “dignified and firm attitude” was lacking;
“this applies particularly to his letter to the Papal Legate.”[1129]
We can understand how Döllinger, in his work “Die Reformation,” after
referring to Melanchthon’s palpable self-contradictions, speaks of
his solemn appeal to the doctrine of St. Augustine as an intentional
and barefaced piece of deception, an untruth “which he deemed
himself allowed.” Döllinger, without mincing matters, speaks of his
“dishonesty,” and relentlessly brands his misleading statements;
they leave us to choose between two alternatives, either he was
endeavouring to deceive and trick the Catholics, or he had surrendered
the most important and distinctive Protestant doctrines, and was ready
to lend a hand in re-establishing the Catholic teaching.[1130]
Luther, so far as we are aware, never blamed his friend, either
publicly or in his private letters, for his behaviour during this
crisis, nor did he ever accuse him of “treason to the Evangelical
cause.”[1131] He only expresses now and then his dissatisfaction at
the useless protraction of the proceedings and scolds him jokingly
“for his fears, timidity, cares and lamentations.”[1132] No real blame
is contained in the words he addressed to Melanchthon: “So long as
the Papacy subsists among us, our doctrine cannot subsist.... Thank
God that you are having nothing from it.” “I know that in treating of
episcopal authority you have always insisted on the Gospel proviso, but
I fear that later our opponents will say we were perfidious and fickle
(‘_perfidos et inconstantes_’) if we do not keep to what they want....
In short, all these transactions on doctrine displease me, because
nothing comes of them so long as the Pope does not do away with his
Papacy.”[1133] A fortnight later Luther cordially blessed his friend,
who was then overwhelmed with trouble: “I pray you, my Philip, not to
crucify yourself in anxiety over the charges which are raised against
you, either verbally or in writing [by some of ours who argue], that
you are going too far.... They do not understand what is meant by the
episcopal authority which was to be re-established, and do not rightly
estimate the conditions which we attach to it. Would that the bishops
had accepted it on these conditions! But they have too fine a nose
where their own interests are concerned and refuse to walk into the
trap.”[1134]
_Melanchthon, the “Erasmian” Intermediary._
A closer examination of the bent of Melanchthon’s mind reveals a trait,
common to many of Luther’s learned followers at that time, which helps
to explain his attitude at Augsburg.
The real foundations of theology were never quite clear to them because
their education had been one-sidedly Humanistic, and they had never
studied theology proper. They were fond of speaking and writing of the
Church, of Grace and Faith, but their ideas thereon were strangely
subjective, so much so that they did not even agree amongst themselves.
Hence, in their dealings with Catholic theologians the latter often
failed to understand them. The fruitlessness of the conferences was
frequently due solely to this; though greatly prejudiced in Luther’s
favour, they still considered it possible for the chasm between the
old and the new to be bridged over, and longed earnestly for such a
consummation to be secured by some yielding on the Catholic side; they
were unwilling to break away from the Church Universal, and, besides,
they looked askance at the moral consequences of the innovations and
feared still greater confusion and civil war.
That this was the spirit which animated Melanchthon is evident from
some of the facts already recorded.
He had nothing more at heart than to secure the atmosphere essential
for his studies and for the furtherance of intellectual, particularly
Humanistic, culture, and to smooth the way for its general introduction
into Germany. His knowledge of theology had been acquired, as it were,
incidentally through his intercourse with Luther and his study of
Scripture; the latter, however, had been influenced by his Humanism
and, speaking generally, he contented himself in selecting in the
Bible certain general moral truths which might serve as a rule of
life. He indeed studied the Fathers more diligently than Luther, the
Greek Fathers proving particularly attractive to him; it was, however,
chiefly a study of form, of culture, and of history, and as regards
theology little more than mere dilettantism. His insight into the
practical life of the Church left much to be desired, otherwise the
Anabaptist movement at Zwickau would not have puzzled him as it did
and left him in doubt as to whether it came from God or the devil.
His ignorance of the gigantic intellectual labours of the Middle Ages
in the domain of theology made itself felt sensibly. He knew even
less of Scholasticism than did Luther, yet, after having acquired a
nodding acquaintance with it in its most debased form, he, as a good
pupil of Erasmus, proceeded to condemn it root and branch. Every page
of his writings proves that his method of thought and expression,
with its indecision, its groping, its dependence on echoes from
the classics, was far removed from the masterpieces of learning and
culture of the best days of the Middle Ages. Yet he fancies himself
entitled to censure Scholasticism and to write in Luther’s style with
a conceit only matched by his ignorance: “You see what thick darkness
envelops the commentaries of the ancients and the whole doctrine of
our opponents, how utterly ignorant they are of what sin really is, of
the purpose of the law, of the blessings of the Gospel, of prayer, and
of man’s refuge when assailed by mental terrors.”[1135] The “mental
terrors,” referred to here and elsewhere, belonged to Luther’s world of
thought. This touch of mysticism, the only one to be found occasionally
in Melanchthon’s works, scarcely availed to render his theology any the
more profound.[1136]
Hence, in fairness, his attempts at mediation when at the Diet of
Augsburg may be regarded as largely due to ignorance and to his
prejudice against Catholic theology.
We must, however, also take into consideration the Humanist phantom
of union and peace for the benefit of the commonweal and particularly
of scholarship; likewise his frequently expressed aversion for public
disorder, and his fears of a decline of morals and of worse things to
come. Then only shall we be in a position to understand the attitude
of the man upon whose shoulders the burden of the matter so largely
rested. The trait chiefly to be held accountable for his behaviour,
viz. his peculiar, one-sided Humanistic education, was well described
by Luther later on when Melanchthon was attacked by Cordatus and
Schenk for his tendency to water down dogma. Luther then spoke of the
“Erasmian intermediaries” at whose rough handling he was not in the
least surprised.
2. Disagreements and Accord between Luther and Melanchthon
Luther had good reason for valuing highly the theological services
which Melanchthon rendered him by placing his ideas before the world
in a form at once clearer and more dignified. Points of theology and
practice which he supplied to his friend as raw material, Melanchthon
returned duly worked-up and polished. Luther’s views assumed practical
shape in passing through Melanchthon’s hands.[1137]
At the outset the latter readily accepted all the doctrines of his
“_præceptor observandissimus_.” In the first edition of the “_Loci_”
(December, 1521) he made his own even Luther’s harshest views, those,
namely, concerning man’s unfreedom and God’s being the author of
evil.[1138] The faithful picture of his doctrine which Luther there
found so delighted him, that he ventured to put the “_Loci_” on a level
with the canon of Holy Scripture (vol. ii., p. 239).
_Disagreements._
As years passed by, Melanchthon allowed himself to deviate more and
more from Luther’s teaching. The latter’s way of carrying every
theological thesis to its furthest limit, affrighted him. He yearned
for greater freedom of action, was desirous of granting a reasonable
amount of room to doubt, and was not averse to learning a thing or two
even from opponents. It was his Humanistic training which taught him to
put on the brake and even to introduce several far-reaching amendments
into Luther’s theories. It was his Humanism which made him value the
human powers and the perfectibility of the soul, and thus to doubt
whether Luther was really in the right in his denial of freedom. Such
a doubt we find faintly expressed by him soon after he had perused
the “_Diatribe_” published by Erasmus in 1524.[1139] Luther’s reply
(“_De servo arbitrio_”), to which Melanchthon officially accorded
his praise, failed to convince him of man’s lack of freedom in the
natural order. In 1526, in his lectures on Colossians (printed in
1528), he openly rejected the view that God was the author of sin,
stood up for freedom in all matters of civil justice, and declared
that in such things it was quite possible to avoid gross sin.[1140] In
his new edition of the “_Loci_” in 1527 he abandoned determinism and
the denial of free-will, and likewise the severer form of the doctrine
of predestination,[1141] such as he had still championed in the 1525
edition, but which, he had now come to see, was at variance with the
proper estimate of man and human action.
Neither could Melanchthon ever bring himself to speak of human reason,
as compared to faith, in quite the same language of disrespect as
Luther.
That, on the occasion of the Visitation, he began to lay stress on
works as well as faith, has already been pointed out.[1142] In this
connection it is curious to note how, with his usual caution and
prudence where Luther and his more ardent followers were concerned, he
recommends that works should be represented as praiseworthy only when
penance was being preached, but not, for instance, when Justification
was the subject, as, here, Lutherans, being accustomed to hear so much
of the “_sola fides_,” might well take offence.[1143]
In the matter of Justification, he, like Luther, made everything
to rest on that entirely outward covering over of man by Christ’s
merits received through faith, or rather through confidence of
salvation.[1144] Indeed, Luther’s greatest service, according to
him, lay in his having made this discovery. It was necessary, so he
taught, that Christian perfection should be made to consist solely in
one’s readiness, whenever oppressed by the sense of guilt, to find
consolation by wrapping oneself up in the righteousness of Christ. Then
the heart is “fearless, though our conscience and the law continue to
cry within us that we are unworthy.” In other words, we must “take it
as certain that we have a God Who is gracious to us for Christ’s sake,
be our works what they may.”[1145]
It was his advocacy of this doctrine, as the very foundation of
sanctification, which earned for him the striking commendation we
find in a letter written by Luther to Jonas in 1529. Melanchthon
had been of greater service to the Church and the cause of holiness
than “a thousand fellows of the ilk of Jerome, Hilarion or Macarius,
those Saints of ceremonies and celibacy who were not worthy to loose
the laces of his boots nor—to boast a little—of yours [Jonas’s],
of Pomeranus [Bugenhagen], or even of mine. For what have these
self-constituted Saints and all the wifeless bishops done which can
compare with one year’s work of Philip’s, or with his ‘_Loci_’?”[1146]
Yet this very work was to bear additional testimony to Melanchthon’s
abandonment of several of Luther’s fundamental doctrines.[1147]
In 1530 and 1531 Melanchthon passed through a crisis, and from that
time forward a greater divergency in matters of doctrine became
apparent between the two friends. Even in his work for the Diet in
1530 Melanchthon had assumed a position of greater independence, and
this grew more marked when he began to plan a revised edition of his
“_Loci_.” He himself was later to acknowledge that his views had
undergone a change, though, in order to avoid unpleasantness, he
preferred to make out that the alteration was less far-reaching than
it really was. “You know,” he wrote to an ardent admirer of Luther’s,
“that I put certain things concerning predestination, determination of
the will, necessity of obedience to the law, and grievous sin, less
harshly than does Luther. In all these things, as I well know, Luther’s
teaching is the same as mine, but there are some unlearned persons,
who, without at all understanding them, pin their faith on certain rude
expressions of his.”[1148] But was Luther’s teaching really “the same”?
The truth is, that, on the points instanced, “Luther had not only in
earlier days taught a doctrine different from that of Melanchthon, but
continued to cherish the same to the very end of his life.”[1149] It
fitted, however, the cowardly character of Melanchthon to conceal as
much as possible these divergencies.
It is worth our while to examine a little more closely the nature of
the doctrinal differences between Luther and Melanchthon, seeing that
the latter—to quote the Protestant theologian Gustav Krüger—was
the real “creator of evangelical theology” and the “founder of the
evangelical Church system.”[1150]
As a matter of fact Melanchthon had already shaped out a course of his
own by the modifications which he had seen fit to introduce in the
original Confession of Augsburg.