Book V. General Reflections on the agitations of Melancthon, and the State of the Reformation

A brief summary. — Melancthon 's agitations, regrets, vacillating condition. — The cause of all his errors, and of his disappointed hopes. — The unhappy success of theReformation, and the wretched motives that attract men to it, acknowledged by the Authors of the party. — Melancthon in vain acknowledges the perpetuity of the Church, the authority of lier judgments, and that of her Prelates.' — Imputed Justice leads him away, though, by his Confession, he does not find it in the Fathers, not even in St. Augustine, on whom he had formerly rested.

1 . — How Melancthon was attracted to Luther.

The first proceedings of Luther, at which time Melancthon devoted himself entirely to him, were attended with a specious appearance. Exclaiming against abuses, which were but too true, with much force and liberty ; mingling with his discourses pious sentiments, the remnants of a good education ; and at the same time leading a life, if not perfect, at least blameless in the eyes of men, are things which have no small attractive influence. We are not to suppose that heresies always have for their authors libertines and wicked men, who designedly make religion subservient to their passions. St. Gregory Nazianzen does not represent to us Heresiarchs as men destitute of religion, but as men who mistake it. " They are,11 says he, " men of great minds, for weak minds are equally useless for good or evil. But these great wits," proceeds he, ''are withal ardent and impetuous, who pursue the affair of religion with a boundless warmth * :" that is, who have a false zeal, and mingling proud disgust, and invincible assurance, and their own conceits with religion, urge all to extremes: to this also must

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. ] 60 be united an air of regularity, or where would be that seduction so often predicted in the Scripture ? Luther had formerly a zest for devotion. In his early life, alarmed by a clap of thunder, whicli he thought would have struck him dead, he entered into religion with dispositions sufficiently sincere. What occurred with regard to indulgences has already been explained. If he advanced extraordinary tenets of doctrine, he submitted himself to the Pope. Condemned by the Pope, he appealed to the Council, which the whole Christian world, many ages before, had deemed necessary to redress the grievances of the church. To reform corrupt morals was an object desired by the universe ; and although sound doctrine always subsisted equally well in the church, yet it was not explained equally well by all preachers. Many preached nothing but indulgences, pilgrimages, almsgiving to the religious, and made those practices, which were only the accessaries of piety, the foundation of religion. They spoke little of the grace of Jesus Christ ; and Luther, who, bv the dogma of imputed justice, took a new view of it, appeared to Melancthon, as yet but young, and more acquainted with polite literature than theology, to be the only preacher of the Gospel.

— Melancthon captivated with novelty, and the deceitful appearance of imputed justice.

It is but just to give all to Jesus Christ. The Church attributed all to him in the justification of the sinner, as well and better than Luther, but in a different manner. We have seen how Luther attributed all to him, by absolutely taking all from man ; and, on the other hand, the Church attributed all to him, by maintaining, for an effect of his grace, all the good man has, and even the right use of his free will in all that regards a Christian life. The novelty of Luther's doctrine and opinions captivated men of wit. Melancthon was the chief of them in Germany. To erudition, to politeness, and to elegance of style, he united a singular moderation. He was considered to be the only person capable of succeeding, in learning, to the reputation of Erasmus ; and Erasmus himself, by his own choice, would have elevated him to the first honours among the learned world , had he not seen him engaged in a party against the Church ; but the tide of novelty bore him down with the crowd. From the beginninoof his attachment to Luther, he wrote to one of his friends, " I have not yet treated the matter of justification as it¹ should be treated, and I am aware that none of the ancients treated it in this manner *." These words demonstrate a man captivated with the charms of the new doctrine ; and yet he has but touched so great a subject, and already knows more than all the ancients. We see him charmed at a sermon which Luther made on the subject of the Sabbath-day f. He there taught that repose, in which God did all, and man nothing. A young professor of the Greek language heard such novel ideas, promulgated by the most lively and vehement orator of his age, with all the ornaments of his native language, and immense applause : it is not a matter of surprise that he was captivated. To him Luther appears the greatest of all men — a man sent by God — a Prophet. The unexpected success of the new reformation confirmed this opinion. Melancthon was sincere and credulous ; men of talent are often so : there he was taken. All the votaries of polite literature follow his example — Luther becomes their idol. He is attacked, and perhaps with too much acrimony. The ardour of Melancthon is enkindled ; the confidence of Luther engages him still more ; and with his master he permits himself to be captivated with the temptation of reforming Bishops, Popes, Princes, Kings, and Emperors, even at the expense of unity and peace.

— How Melancthon excused the violence of Luther.

Luther, it is true, was the slave of unheard of excesses : this was a subject of sorrow to his moderate disciple. He trembled whenever he thought of the implacable wrath of this Achilles ; and feared " nothing less from the old age of a man, whose passions were so violent, than the transports of a Hercules, a Philoctetes, and a Marius£ ;" that is, he anticipated what, indeed, happened, something furious. This he writes confidentially, and in Greek, according to his custom, to his friend Camerarius : but, as with men of wit, a witty saying often has great influence, a bon mot of Erasmus supported him. Erasmus said that the world, stubborn and obdurate as it was, required a master as rude as Luther § : that is, as he explained it to him, Luther seemed necessary to the world, as tyrants are, whom God sends for its correction; as a Nebuchadnezzar, a Holofernes ; in a word, as a scourge of God. In this there was no subject in which to glory ; but Melancthon, who had understood it on the fair

% Lib. iv. Ep, 210, 315, § Lib. xviii. Ep.25, 19, 3.

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 171 side, persuaded himself, at the commencement, that, in order to awaken the world, nothing less was necessary than the violence and thunder of Luther.

— The commencement of the agitations of Melancthon.

But at length the arrogance of this imperious master declared itself. The whole world rose up against him, even those who were equally intent upon the reformation of the Church. A thousand impious sects enrolled themselves under his banner, and, under the name of Reformation, arms, seditions, civil wars, devastated Christianity. To increase these sorrows, the Sacramentarian contest divided the new-born reformation into two almost equal parts.- However, Luther urged every thing to extremes ; and his discourses, instead of calming, embittered the minds of men. His conduct appeared so weak, and his excess so singular, that Melancthon neither could excuse nor support them. From that time his agitations were exceedingly great. Every moment he wished for death. For thirty years his tears ceased not to flow². " And the Elbe,'"' said he, " with all its streams, would not have furnished him with water sufficient to weep for the sorrows of the divided reformation! ."

— Melancthon acknowledges at length that Luther's great success proceeded from a bad principle.

The unexpected success of Luther, with which he had been at first dazzled, and which with all others he considered as a mark of the finger of God, was but a weak relief to him, when time had discovered to him the true causes of this great progress and its deplorable effects. He soon perceived that licentiousness and independence had been the great supporters of the reformation. If the cities of the empire were seen to run in crowds to this new gospel, it was not to adopt its doctrine. Our reformed will feel pain at these words, but it is Melancthon who writes them, and writes them to Luther : — " Our people blame me because I restore the jurisdiction to Bishops. The people accustomed to liberty, having once cast oft³ the yoke, will not receive it again ; and the imperial towns are most averse to this authority. They seek not doctrine and religion, but power and liberty %.'* He repeats this complaint again to the same Luther : — " Our associates," says he,

" dispute not for the Gospel, but who shall govern *." These towns, therefore, sought not for doctrine but independence ; and if they were averse to their Bishops, it was not because they were their pastors, but because they were their sovereigns.

— He anticipates the disorders which were to arise from the contempt of Episcopal authority.

To speak all, Melancthon was not anxious to re-establish the temporal power of the Bishops ; but what he wished to have restored, was the ecclesiastical government, the spiritual jurisdiction, and, in a word, " the episcopal administration f because he saw that without that every thing would fall into confusion. te Would to God I could confirm, not the sovereignty of Bishops, but restore their administration ; for I see what kind of Church we are likely to have if we subvert the ecclesiastical government. I see that tyranny will he more insupportable than tcver+." It is what always happens when the yoke of lawful authority is thrown off. Those who excite the people to insurrection under the pretext of liberty become tyrants themselves ; and if it be not yet sufficiently seen that Luther was of that number, what follows will establish it beyond all doubt. Melancthon proceeds ; and after blaming those who loved not Luther, only because, through his means, they removed the Bishops, he concludes, " They had gained a liberty which would do posterity no good. For what will be," proceeds he, " the state of the Church, if we change all the ancient customs, and there be no more prelates nor certain guides V

7 '.• — Ecclesiastical authority and discipline entirely despised in the New Churches. — The testimony of Capito and others.

In this disorder he anticipates each one will become his own master. If the ecclesiastical powers, to whom the authority of the Apostles came by succession, be not acknowledged, how will the new ministers subsist who have taken their places ? It is only necessary to hear Capito speak, the colleague of Bucer in the administration of the Church of Strasburg ; — " The authority of the ministers," says he, " is wholly abolished ; all is lost — all falls to ruin. There is not i * Lib. i. Ep. 20. f Lib. iv. Ep. 104.

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 173 any Church amongst us, not so much as one, where there is any discipline. The people say boldly to us — you wish to tyrannize over the Church which is free — you wish to establish a new Papacy." And a little after : " God has given me to understand what it is to be a pastor, and the injury we have done the Church by our precipitate judgment, and the inconsiderate vehemence which induced us to reject the Pope. For the people, accustomed to, and nourished, as it were, in licentiousness, havere jected the curb altogether, as if, by destroying the power of the Papists, we, at the same time, destroyed the force of the Sacraments and the Ministry. They loudly tell us, I know enough of the gospel ; what need have I of your aid to find out Jesus Christ ; go and preach to those that are disposed to hear you *." What Babylon more confused than this Church, which boasted she had come forth from the Church of Rome as from a Babylon ? Such was the Church of Strasburg; that Church which the new reformed incessantly proposed to Erasmus, when he complained of their disorders, as the most orderly and modest of all the churches. Such was this church in 1537, that is, in her vigour and in her bloom.

Bucer, the colleague of Capito, entertained no better opinion of it in 1549 ; and acknowledges that nothing had been there more sought after, " than the pleasure of living after their own fancy f."

Another minister complains to Calvin, that there was no order in their churches, and gives this reason, " That a great number of their people believed they had withdrawn themselves from the power of Antichrist, by revelling with the wealth of the church, as pleased them best, and by despising all discipline J." These are not discourses which censure disorders with exaggeration : they are what the new Pastors write to each other in confidence ; and by them are seen the sad effects of the new reformation.

— Another fruit of the Reformation. — The servitude of the Church, in which the Magistrates make themselves Popes.

One of the fruits it produced was the slavery into which the Church fell. It is not surprising if the new reformation pleased princes and magistrates, who then became masters of all, even of doctrine itself. The first effect of the new gospel, in a town adjoining Genoa, Montbeliart, was an as-

X Int, Ep. Calv. p. 43.

174 THE HISTORY OP [BOOK sembly there held, by the principal inhabitants, in order to know " what the Prince could ordain concerning the Supper *." In vain Calvin resists this abuse : he has little hopes of a remedy ; and all he can do is to complain of it, as the greatest disorder that can be brought into the Church. Mycon, the successor of CEcolampadius in the ministry of Basil, makes a similar complaint, to as little purpose : " The laymen," says he, " assume all to themselves, and the magistrate has made himself Pope+."

This was an evil unavoidable in the new Reformation ; it established itself by rising up against the Bishops, by warrant from the magistrates. The magistrate suspended the mass at Strasburg, abolished it in other places, and modelled the divine service ; the new pastors were instituted by his authority; after that it was but just that he should have all power in the church. Thus all that was gained in the new Reformation, by rejecting the Pope, the ecclesiastical successor of St. Peter, was to give themselves a lay-pope, and place the authority of the Apostles in the hands of the magistrates.

— Luther receives the Mission of the Prince to make the Ecclesiastical Visitation.

Luther, proud as he was of his new Apostleship, could not defend himself against so great an abuse. Sixteen years had elapsed since the establishment of his Reformation in Saxony, without ever thinking of visiting the Churches, even to see if the pastors whom they had appointed discharged their duty, or if the people knew, at least, their Catechism. " They were taught very well (says Luther) to eat flesh on Fridays and Saturdays, to lay aside confession, to believe they were justified by faith alone, and that good works merited nothing | ;" but seriously to preach repentance, Luther well assures us, was a thing they never thought of. — The Reformers were otherwise employed. At last, to restrain this disorder, in 1538, they thought of the remedy of a Visitation, so recommended in the Canons. " But not a man amongst us (says Luther) was as yet called to this ministry; and St. Peter prohibits anything being done in the Church without being assured, by a certain deputation, that what one does is the work of God ;" that is, in a word, " a mission, a vocation, a lawful authority is necessary for that end⁴." Observe, these

V.J THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 175 new evangelists were assured of their extraordinary mission from above, to cause the people to rise up against their bishops, to preach in opposition to them, to take upon themselves the administration of sacraments, contrary to their prohibition : but for the true episcopal function, which is to visit and correct, not one of them had received the vocation or appointment from God, so imperfect was this heavenly mission ; so much those, who boasted of it, did distrust it in reality. The remedy discovered for this defect was to have recourse to ** the Prince, as to a power undoubtedly ordained by God in this country⁵." Thus Luther speaks. But was this power of God's appointment established for this function ? Luther acknowledges it was not, and rests upon this foundation, that a visitation is an apostolic function. Why, then, have recourse to the prince 1 " Because (sa}^s Luther), although the secular power be not charged with this office, they will not fail, -in charity, to name visitors ;" and Luther exhorts the other princes to follow this example ; that is, he would have the function of Bishops be exercised by the authority of princes : and this attempt, in the language of the Reformation, is called charity.

— The Lutheran Churches have no better discipline, and Melancthon acknowledges it.

This statement demonstrates that the Sacramentarians were not the only people who, destitute of lawful authority, had filled their churches with confusion : Capito, it is true, after complaining, as we have seen, that discipline was unknown in the churches of his sect, adds, " there was no discipline except in the Lutheran Churches f." But Melancthon, who was acquainted with them, speaking of these churches, in 1532, and much about the time that Capito wrote his letter, relates " that discipline was destroyed among them, and they doubted of the most important matters : however, that, like the others, they would take no care to explain their tenets, and these evils were incurablej :" so that no advantage remains on the part of the Lutherans, unless that their discipline, such as it was, so much excelled that of the Sacramentarians as to excite their envy.

% Lib. iv. Ep. 135.

176 THE HI STORY OF [BOOK

— Melancthon laments the Licentiousness of the parly, in which 'people at table decided points of Religion.

It is expedient we should also learn, from Melancthon, in what manner the great men of the party treated theology and ecclesiastical discipline. Confession of sins was but feebly spoken of among the Lutherans ; and though little was said of it, and though the remains of Christian discipline which they wished to retain were small, yet they had such an influence on a man T>f importance, as Melancthon relates, that he openly declared at a " great banquet (for there only, says he, they treat theology) that they ought to oppose it ; that they ought to be on their guard, lest that liberty they had recovered should be taken from them, otherwise they would be enchained by a new slavery, and that already, by little and little, the ancient traditions were renewing⁶." This is the consequence of exciting the spirit of rebellion among the people, and indiscreetly inspiring them with a hatred of traditions. We have in one single banquet a representation of what was done in the others. This spirit prevailed among all the people ; and Melancthon himself says to his friend Camerarius, speaking of these new churches, tS You see the excesses of the multitude, and their blind desires t :" no order could be established among them.

— Imputed justice diminished the necessity of good works.

Thus the true reformation, namely, of morals, retrograded instead of advancing, and this for two reasons — one, because authority was destroyed, and because the new doctrine inclined to favour human passions. I undertake not to prove that the new Justification had this bad effect. It is a subject often treated of before, and foreign to my purpose. I shall speak only of those notorious facts that, after the establishment of imputed justice, the doctrine of good works fell into such disrepute, that some of the chief disciples of Luther said it was a blasphemy to teach they were necessary. Others went so far as to say they were contrary to salvation ; all concurred in deciding they were not necessary. It is permitted, in the new Reformation, to say, that good works are necessary, as things which God requires from man, but it cannot be said that they are necessary to salvation. And why, then, does God require them ? Is it not in order to save us ? Has not Jesus Christ himself said, " If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments £" ? It is, therefore, precisely for obtaining life and eternal salvation that good * Lib. iv. Ep. 71. f Ibid, p. 769. J Matt. xix. 17.

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 177 works are necessary according to the Gospel, and it is what the whole Scripture preaches to us. But the new Reformation has discovered this subtilty, that one may without difficulty allow them to be necessary, provided it be not for salvation. The question regarded the adult, for as to little children, all were agreed. Who would have believed the Reformation was to bring forth such a prodigy ? and that this proposition, " Good works are necessary to salvation," should ever have been condemned ? It was done by Melancthon and all the Lutherans in many of their conventions⁷, and particularly that of Worms, in 1557, the acts of which we shall see in their proper place.

— No Reformation of Morals in the Protestant Churches; the testimony of Erasmus.

I intend not here to impeach Protestants with their bad morals; our own, with relation to most men, did not appear better. I wish only to disabuse them of the idea that their Reformation was attended with the fruits that might be anticipated from so beautiful a name, or that their new justification had produced one good effect. Erasmus frequently said, that of the many whom he had seen embrace the new Reformation, (and he maintained a familiarity with most of their chiefs.) he had not seen so much as one whom it had not made worse instead of making better. " What an evangelical generation is this! (said he.)t Nothing was ever seen more licentious, and, withal, more seditious ; nothing, in a word, less evangelical than these pretended evangelists : they abrogate vigils, and the divine service of the night and day. They were, said they, Pharisaical superstitions ; but then thev should have substituted something; better in their

■* • i place, and not become Epicureans to escape Judaism. All is carried to extremes in this new reformation. Thev root up only what ought to be pruned ; they set fire to the house in order to cleanse it. Morals are neglected ; luxury, debauchery, adulteries, increase more than ever : there is no order, no discipline among them. The people indocile, after having shaken off the yoke of their superiors, will believe no person ; and in so disordered a licentiousness Luther will soon have reason to regret what he calls the tyranny of bishops." When he wrote in this way to his Protestant friends regarding

VOL. I. N⁸ the unhappy fruits of their reformation⁹, they candidly agreed with him. " I had much rather," said he to them, " have to do with those Papists you decry so much f." He reproaches them with the malice of Capito, the malignant falsehoods of Farel, whom CEcolampadius, at whose table he lived, could neither suffer nor restrain ; the arrogance and violence of Zuinglius, and in a word, with those of Luther, who sometimes seemed to speak like the Apostles, and at other times abandoned himself to such strange excesses, and such vile scurrility, that it was plainly seen the apostolic air he affected at times proceeded not from his heart. The others with whom he was acquainted were no better. " I find," said he, "more piety in one good Catholic bishop than in all these new evangelists J." What he said was not to flatter the Catholics, whose disorders he impeached with sufficient freedom. But, besides that he disapproved their boasting of the reformation, without any superior merit of their own, he judged there was an essential difference between those who neglected good works through weakness, and those who lessened their dignity and necessity by maxim.

— The testimony of Bucer.

But here is a testimony which will press the Protestants more closely: it is that of Bucer. For in 1542, and more than twenty years after the reformation, this minister writes to Calvin, " that among them the most evangelical did not so much as know what, true repentance was §v — so much had they abused the name of reformation and gospel. We have just heard as much from the lips of Luther ||. Five years after this letter of Bucer, and in the midst of the victories of Charles V., Bucer writes again to the same Calvin : " God has punished the injury we have done to his name by our long and pernicious hypocrisy If." This was confining a sufficiently proper name to licentiousness covered with the title of reformation. In 1549, he describes in stronger terms the little fruit of the pretended reformation, when he writes again to Calvin, " Our people have passed from the hypocrisy so deeplv rooted in the Papacy, to a profession, such as it is, of Jesus Christ; and there is but a small number who have departed from this hypocrisy¹⁰." Now he certainly seeks for a subject of dispute, and endeavours to render the f Int. Ep. Calv. p. 100. ** Ibid. p. 509, 510.

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 179

Church of Rome guilty of that hypocrisy he acknowledges in his own party. For if by the Roman hypocrisy, according to the style of the reformation, he understands the watchings, the abstinence, and devotions performed in honour of the saints, and similar practices, it was impossible for the new reformed to be more detached from these things than they were, having all of them passed to the opposite extreme ; but as the foundation of piety consisted not in these external things, it consisted still less in abolishing them. If it were the opinion of merits that Bucer here calls our hypocrisy, this was an evil, which the reformation had too well corrected, which had taken away even that merit which is the gift of grace, though the truth sometimes forced its acknowledgment. However that may be, the reformation had prevailed so little against hypocrisy, that very few, according to Bucer, had abandoned so great an evil. " For which reason,"" proceeds he, "our people laboured more to appear disciples of Jesus Christ than to be so in reality; and when this appearance injured their interests, they relinquished it. What pleased them was the separation from the tyranny and superstitions of the Pope, and living after their own FANcy." And a little after, " Our people would never receive sincerely the laws of Jesus Christ ; neither have they courage to enforce the laws against others, with a Christian constancy. As long as they believed they had the arm of flesh to support them, they generally returned answers of some vigour ; but when this arm of flesh was broken, and they no longer had any human aid, they forgot them."

Doubtless, the true reformation hitherto — I mean that of morals — had but weak foundations in the pretended reformation ; and the work of God, so much boasted of, and so much desired, was neglected by them.

— The insupportable tyranny of Luther ; what Calvin writes to Melancthon.

What Melancthon most expected in Luther's reformation, was Christian liberty, and freedom from human authority ; but he found himself much disappointed in his hopes. For almost fifty years together, he beheld the Lutheran Church always under tyranny or in confusion. She long had to sustain the punishment of despising lawful authority. Never was there a master more severe than Luther, nor a tyranny more insupportable than what he exercised in points of doctrine. This arrogance was so well known, as to induce Muncer to say n 2

180 THE HISTORY Otf [BOOK there were two popes — that of Rome, and Luther ; and this latter was the more rigorous. Had it been only Muncer, a fanatic and the leader of fanatics, Melancthon might have consoled himself ; but Zuinglius, Calvin, all the Swiss and all the Sacramentarians — men not at all despised by Melancthon — said, loudly, without his being able to contradict them, that Luther was another Pope. None are unacquainted with what Calvin wrote to his friend Bullinger, " that the excesses of Luther could be no longer borne, whose self-love would not permit him to see his own defects, nor bear contradiction¹¹." Here doctrine was in question, and it was principally in doctrine that Luther would make himself absolute. The thing was carried to such excess, that Calvin complained of it to Melancthon himself. " With what excess does your Pericles deal out his thunder f !" It was thus Luther was called, when they wished to give a fine name to his intemperate eloquence. " We owe much to him, I acknowledge, and I will readily allow him a very great authority, provided he knows how to govern himself; though it is time for him now to reflect how much deference ought, in the Church, to be given to men. All is lost where one alone has more power than all the others, particularly if he fears not to use the extent of his power. And certainly, we leave a singular example to posterity, whilst we rather relinquish our liberty than by the least offence provoke one single man. His temper, you may say, is violent, and all his motives impetuous ; as if his violence were not augmented by the obsequiousness of the whole world. Let us once have courage to sigh freely." How great must be the captivity of man when he may not sigh with freedom ! A man, I acknowledge, may be chagrined ; though one of the first and least effects of virtue is to overcome himself in this inequality of temper: but what is to be hoped of a man who has no more authority, nor perhaps more learning than the others, who will hear nothing, and must rule all things by his word ?

1G. — Melancthon, tyrannized over by Luther, thinks of retiring.

Melancthon could make no reply to those just complaints, nor was he of a different opinion from the others. Those, who lived with Luther, never knew how this rigorous master would take their sentiments in point of doctrine. He

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 181 menaced them with new formularies of faith, chiefly with regard to the Sacramentarians, -whose pride Melancthon was accused of fomenting by (l his meekness." This pretext was made use of to incense Luther against him, as his friend Camerarius writes in his life *. Melancthon knew no remedy for those evils, except that of flight ; and his son-in-law Bucer acquaints us, that he was resolved upon it t. He writes himself, that Luther was so incensed against him, on account of a letter received from Bucer, that he thought of nothing but of withdrawing for ever from his presence J. He was under such restraint with Luther, and the heads of the party, and they had so overwhelmed him with labour and uneasiness, that, quite exhausted, he wrote to his friend Camerarius, " I am," says he, " in slavery, as one in the den of the Cyclops ; for I cannot conceal my thoughts from you, and I often think of flight §." Luther was not the only one that so enchained him : amongst those who have withdrawn themselves from lawful authority, every one is master at certain times, and the most moderate man is always the greatest slave.

— He 'passes his whole life, without ever daring to explain his doctrine entirely.

When a man has entered into a party to speak his sentiments with freedom, and this illusion has induced him to renounce the established government, if he subsequently find the yoke to enslave him, and not only the master he has chosen, but even his companions, retain him in more subjection than before, what has he not to suffer, and how can we feel surprise at the continual lamentations of Melancthon? No, Melancthon never spoke his full sentiments, with regard to doctrine, not even at Augsburg, when he wrote his Confession of Faith, and that of all the party. We have seen how " he accommodated his dogmas to the occasion || :" he was ready to say many milder things, that is, approximating more closely to the tenets received by Catholics, " if his companions would have permitted him." Constrained on all sides, but more by Luther than any other, he never dares to speak, and reserves himself for " better times, if such should happen," says he, " for the designs I entertain^." This is what he writes in 1537, in the assembly of Smalkald, where

} Mel. lib. iv. op. 315. § Ibid. p. 255. || Lib. iii. N. 59.

aJ Lib. iv. ep. 204.¹²

the articles above-mentioned were drawn up. Five years after that time, and in 1542, we find him again sighing for a free convention of the whole party, " where doctrine may be explained in a firm and precise manner¹³/'1 Again, after this, and towards the latter end of his life, he writes to Calvin and Bullinger, that some were about to write against him, on the subject of the Eucharist, and the adoration of the bread. The Lutherans were to be the authors of this book. " If they publish it," said he, " I will speak freely J." But these better times, these times of speaking freely, and declaring without fear what he called truth, never came for him ; nor was he deceived when he said, that, " Let matters turn out as they may, never should they have the liberty of speaking freely on points of doctrine J." When Calvin and the others encourage him to speak his sentiments, he always speaks like one under the obligation of great caution, and awaits an opportunity of explaining himself on certain matters §, which, however, he never performed. — Thus one of the chief teachers of the new reformation, and he who may be said to have given Lutheranism its form, died without fully explaining himself on the most important controversies of his time.

— New Tyranny in the Lutheran Churches after that of

Luther.

The reason was, while Luther lived, he Mras forced to silence; after his death, they were not more free. Other tyrants took his place. These were Illyricus, and the other leaders of the people. The unhappy Melancthon considers himself, among the Lutherans his colleagues, as in the midst of enemies, or, to use his own words, in the midst of furious wasps, " and has no hopes of finding sincerity, except in heaven II.''' I wish it were allowed me to employ the word " Demagogue," which he uses. Those were certain orators in Athens, and the popular states of Greece, who became all powerful with the people, by flattering them. The Lutheran churches were led by similar speakers : "Ignorant men," so speaks Melancthon, " who are strangers to both piety and discipline. Such are they who domineer ; and I am like Daniel among the lions ^J." This is the picture which he draws of the Lutheran churches. They had already fallen into anarchy, that is, as he says himself, M into a state that

% Lib. iv. ep. 136 . § Ep~Mel. int. Calv. cp. p. l'J9. Calv. Resp.p. 211.

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 183 at once involves all evils¹⁴ :" he wishes for death, and sees no hopes but in Him who has promised to support his church, "even in her old age, and to the end of the world." Happy, could he have perceived that consequently he never ceases to support her!

— Melancthon knows not where he is, and all his life searches after Religion.

Here it is that men should have stopped ; and since it was necessary ultimately to return to the promises made to the church, Melancthon had only to reflect, that they ought to have been as immutable in ages past, as he wished to believe they were to be in ages subsequent to the Reformation. The Lutheran church had no particular assurance of her eternal duration, nor ought the reformation made by Luther to remain more immoveable than the first institution established by Jesus Christ and his Apostles. How was it possible for Melancthon not to see that the reformation, whose faith he would change daily, was not the work of man ? We have seen how he changed, and changed again, many important articles of the Augsburg Confession, even after it had been presented to the Emperor +. At different times, he even took many important things from the Apology, although it had been subscribed by the whole party M'ith as much submission as the Confession of Augsburg. In 1532, after the Confession of Augsburg and Apology, he writes again, " That most important points remain undecided, and that they ought, without noise, to seek means to explain their dogmas J.1' " How much," says he, " do I wish this to be done, and done well!" like a man that knew in his conscience nothing hitherto had been done as it ought. In 1533, " Who is there," says he, " that so much as thinks of healing the conscience agitated with doubts, and of discovering truth § !" In 1535, •' How much," says he, " do we deserve to be blamed, we that take no care to heal the conscience agitated with doubts, nor to explain the dogmas, purely and simply, without sophistry ! These things torment me terribly ||." He wishes in the same year, " that a pious assembly would determine the Eucharistic contest, without sophistry, and without tyranny ^[." He judges then the thing as undecided ; and five or six ways of explaining this article, which we find in the Augsburg Confession, and Apology, have not satisfied

» Lib. ir. et lib. i. ep. 107, 4, 76, 876. t V. S. lib. iii. N. 5. et sea. 23, 24, 27.

X Lib. iv. ep. 135. $ Ibid. ep. 140. || Ibid. ep. 170.

% Lib. iii. ep. 114.

him; In 1536, accused of still raising many doubts of the doctrine he professed, he replies at once, that it was immoveable, for so it was necessary he should speak, or abandon the cause *. But immediately after, he gives to understand, that, indeed, many defects remained in it ; and it must not be forgotten that he speaks of doctrine. Melancthon imputes these defects to the vices and obstinacy of ecclesiastics, " by whose means it happened (says he) that amongst us things have been left to take their own course, to say nothing worse ; that we have fallen into many faults, and, at the commencement, have done many things without reason." He acknowledges the disorder ; and the vain excuse he seeks, by imputing the defects of his own religion to the Catholic Church, will not conceal it. He had advanced no further in 1537 ; and whilst all the Doctors of the party assembled with Luther at Smalkald, there explained anew the points of doctrine, or, rather, there subscribed to the decisions of Luther; " I was of opinion (says he), that, rejecting some paradoxes, they should explain doctrine more simply f;" and, although he subscribed, as we have seen, these decisions, he was so little satisfied with them that, in 1542, we have heard him still wish for another assembly, " where the dogmas might be explained in a firm and precise manner^." Three years after, and in 1545, he acknowledges that truth had been but very imperfectly discovered to the preachers of the new gospel. Ci I beseech God (says he) to prosper this glimmering of doctrine, such as he has discovered to us¹⁵." He declares that, as to himself, he has done all in his power : " the will (says he) was not wanting to me, but time, guides, and doctors." How ! was his master, Luther, then wanting to him — the man he had believed to be raised by God to dispel the darkness with which the world was covered ? Without doubt he confided but little in the doctrine of such a master, when he so bitterly laments the want of a doctor. And, indeed, after the death of Luther, Melancthon, who in so many places so highly extols him, writing in confidence to his friend Camerarius, contents himself with saying, coldly enough, that "he had at least well explained some part of the heavenly doctrine ||." A little after, he confesses " that he and the others fell into many errors, which they could not avoid, upon coming forth from so much darkness ^j :" and is satisfied with saying that " many things have been well explained ;" which agreed perfectly with the desire he had, that the rest

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 1S5 should be better explained. We see, in all the above passages, that the dogmas of faith were the things in question ; since decisions, and new decrees on doctrine, are there spoken of in every place. Men, if they please, may now be surprised at those they call Seekers in England. Here is Melancthon himself, who still seeks for many articles of his religion, forty years after the preaching of Luther and the establishment of the Reformation.

— What were the dogmas which Melancthon found badly explained.

If it be asked what were the dogmas Melancthon pretended were badly explained, it is certain that they were most important ones — that of the Eucharist was in the number. In 1553, after all the changes of the Augsburg Confession, after the explanations of the Apology, after the articles of Smalkald, which he had signed, he still demands " a new formulary for the Supper¹⁶." It is not well known what he wished to insert in this new formulary ; it appears only, that neither those of his own nor those of the opposite party pleased him, since he says, that both one and the other did nothing but obscure the subject. Another article which he wished might be decided was that of free will, the consequences of which so very much affected the subjects of justification and grace. In 1548 he writes to Thomas Cranmer, that Archbishop of Canterbury who completely destroyed the King, his master, by his obsequiousness : " Ever since the commencement (says he), the doctrines which have been advanced amongst us on free will, according to the opinions of the stoics, were too harsh, and we must think of making some new formulary on this head-f-.'1 That of the Augsburg Confession, though he himself had drawn it up, no longer pleased him ; he began to think that free will did not only act in the duties of civil life, but moreover in the operations of grace, and by its assistance. These were not the notions he had received from Luther, nor what Melancthon himself had explained at Augsburg. This doctrine raised him opponents among the Protestants. He prepared himself for a vigorous defence, when he wrote to a friend, " If they shall publish their stoical disputes (regarding fatal necessity and free will), I shall answer very gravely and very learnedly.;];" Thus, in

• Lib. ii. Ep. 447. f Lib. iii. Ep.42. J Lib. ii. Ep. 200.

186 THE HISTORY OP [BOOK the midst of his misfortunes, he is pleased with the thoughts of writing a fine work, and persists in his belief, as the following will more fully discover to us.

— Melancthon declares that he adheres to the Confession of Augsburg, at the time he thinks of reforming it.

We might point out other things which Melancthon wished to see decided, long after the Confession of Augsburg. But what appears more singular is, that whilst he, who had made it, found in his conscience, and acknowledged to his friends, the necessity of reforming it in so many important articles, he himself, in the public assemblies then held, never ceased to declare, with all the others, that he adhered precisely to this Confession, such as it was presented at the Diet of Augsburg, and to the Apology, as the pure exposition of the word of God. Policy required this ; and it would have too much dishonoured the Reformation to admit that it had erred in its foundation.

What repose could Melancthon have during these uncertainties? The evil was, they arose from the very grounds, and, as I may say, from the constitution of his church, in which there was no regular power, no legitimate authority. Usurped authority has no uniformity ; it bends or relaxes without moderation. Thus tyranny and anarchy are felt in it alternately ; nor is it known to whom application should be made to arrange matters in a steady frame.

— These uncertainties proceeded from the constitution of the Protestant Churches.

So essential, and, at the same time, so inevitable a defect in the constitution of the new Reformation, gave extreme trouble to the miserable Melancthon. If any questions arose, there were no means of terminating them ; the most certain traditions were despised ; the Scripture was wrested and forced by the caprice of every man ; all parties believed they understood it — they all proclaimed it was clear ; not a man would yield to his companion. Melancthon called out in vain for an assembly, to terminate the Eucharistic dispute, which tore in pieces the new-born Reformation. Conferences which they called amicable had nothing but the name, and served only to exasperate the minds of men, and embarrass the cause : a juridical assembly was necessary, a Council which

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 187 should have the power of deciding, and to which all the people should submit. But where was this to be had in the new Reformation ? The remembrance of the despised bishops was still too recent ; the individuals, who had possessed themselves of their places, could not assume to themselves a more inviolable character; and, indeed, both sides, Lutherans and Zuinglians, wished to have their mission judged of by the merits of the cause. He who spoke the truth had, according to them, the true mission. The difficulty was to know who spoke the truth, which every person claimed ; and all those who rested their mission on this examination made it doubtful. The Catholic bishops had a certain title, and their vocation alone was indisputable. It was said they abused it, nor was it denied that they had. Thus Melancthon always wished to acknowledge them, and always maintained that it was wrong " to yield nothing to the sacred order¹⁷." If their authority was not reestablished, he anticipated, with a lively and inconsolable sorrow, that " discord would have no end, and would be attended with ignorance, barbarity, and all kind of evils."

— The authority of the Church absolutely necessary in matters of Faith.

It is very easy to say, as our reformed do, that they have an extraordinary vocation ; that the church, like kingdoms, is not attached to an established succession ; and matters of religion ought not to be judged in the same form that causes are at tribunals. Conscience, say they, is the true tribunal, where each one is to judge matters as they are in themselves, and hear truth from himself : these things, I repeat, are very easily said. Melancthon said them, like the others ; but, in his conscience, was very sensible some other foundation was necessary on which to build the church. For, in reality, why should she have less order than empires ? Why should she not have a legitimate succession in her magistrates ? Ought a way to be left open to every man who would say he was sent from God, or the faithful be obliged to investigate the cause to the bottom, though the greatest part of men are incapable of such inquiry 1 Such language may serve for disputation ; but when a matter is to be terminated, — the peace of the church to be established, — and true repose, without impediment, given to the consciences of men, we must have recourse to other means. Do what we may, we must return to autho- riiy, which is neither certain nor lawful, when, proceeding from nothing higher, it rests on itself for a foundation. It is for this reason Melancthon wished to acknowledge the bishops, whom succession had established, and saw no other remedy for the evils of the church.

— The sentiments of Melancthon on the necessity of acknowledging the Pope and Bishops.

The manner in which he explains himself, in one of his letters, on this subject, is admirable. " Our people are agreed that ecclesiastical polity, by which bishops are acknowledged the superiors of many churches, and the Bishop of Rome superior to all bishops, is allowable. It was also lawful for kings to endow churches with revenues: so there is no dispute about the superioritv of the Pope, and the authority of Bishops ; and the Bishops, as well as the Pope, may easily retain this authority : for guides are necessary to retain the church in order, to watch over those who are called to the Ecclesiastical ministry and the doctrine of priests, and to exercise ecclesiastical judgments. If there were not such bishops, it would

BE NECESSARY TO CREATE: THEM. The PoPe's MONARCHY would also be of great use to the agreement of doctrine between different nations. Thus the superiority of the Pope might easily be admitted, were we but agreed in all the rest; and Kings themselves might easily modei-ate the attempts of Popes on the temporalities of their kingdoms¹⁸." This was what Melancthon thought of the authority of the Pope and Bishops. The whole party entertained the same sentiments when he wrote this letter. '' Our people (says he) are agreed :" far from looking upon the authority of Bishops with the superiority and monarchy of the Pope, as a mark of the anti-Christian empire, he held it for a thing desirable, and which ought to be created, if not established. It is true that he added this condition, that ecclesiastical powers "should not oppress sound doctrine:" but, if it may be permitted to say they do oppress it ! and, under this pretext, refuse the obedience due to them, they fall again into the difficulty they seek to avoid, and the ecclesiastical authority becomes a mock authority for all that wish to contradict.

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 189

— Melancthon, in the Assembly of Smalkald, is of opinion that they should acknowledge the Council convened by the Pope — and why ?

It was for this reason also that Melancthon always sought for a remedy to so great an evil. It was not certainly his design that the disunion should remain for ever. Luther submitted to the Council at the time Melancthon embraced his doctrine. The whole party pressed its convocation, and Melancthon hoped from it the termination of the schism, without which, I presume, he never would have engaged in it. But, after the first step, men venture farther than they had intended. To the demand of the Council the Protestants added, that they demanded it " free, pious, and Christian." The demand is just — Melancthon agrees to it ; but such fair words concealed a profound artifice. By the name of a free Council, they explained their meaning to be such a Council as the Pope, and all those who professed submission to him, should be excluded from. These, they said, were interested persons — the Pope was the guilty party, the Bishops were his slaves — they couid not be judges. Who, then, should hold the Council ? The Lutherans, mere private individuals ? or priests in rebellion against their bishops ? What an example to posterity ! And, again, were they not also interested ? Were they not considered guilty by Catholics, who, without doubt, formed the greatest, not to say the best part of the Christian world ? What ! to have indifferent judo-es, should then the appeal be made to Turks or Heathens, or ought God to send us angels ? And was anything more necessary than to accuse all the magistrates of the church, in order to deprive them of their power, and render judgment impossible ? Melancthon had too much sense not to see this was but an illusion. What can he do ? He informs us himself. In 1537, when the Lutherans were assembled at Smalkald, in order to discover what was best to be done with regard to the council Paul the Third had summoned at Mantua, it was said the Pope ought not to be allowed the authority of forming a convention in which himself was to be accused, nor should a council so convoked be acknowledged by them. But Melancthon could not agree to this. '¹⁹ My opinion was (savs lie) not to refuse the Council absolutely, because, although the Pope cannot be judge therein, however hk has the right of calling it together, and the Council must order the proceeding on to judgment²⁰." Here he immediately aeknow-

190 THE HISTORY OP [BOOK ledges the Council ; and, what is still more remarkable, the whole world allowed he had, on the whole, reason on his side. " Men more acute than myself (proceeds he) said that my reasons were subtle and true, but useless ; that the tyranny of the Pope was such, that if we once consented to be present at the Council, it would be understood that we thereby granted to the Pope the power of judging. I saw very well there was some difficulty in my opinion ; but, after all, it was the most honest. The other carried it, after great disputes, and I believe there is in this somewhat of fatality."

— When certain pri?iciples are overturned, all we do is unwarrantable and contradictory.

This is generally said when one knows not what to say. — Melancthon seeks for an end to the schism, and, for want of comprehending truth whole and entire, what he says is not consistent. On one side he was sensible what service an acknowledged authority does the church. He saw clearly, among so many dissensions then arising, that a principal authority was then necessary to maintain unity, nor could he recognise this authority any where but in the Pope. On the other hand, he would not have him to be judge in the impeachment the Lutherans brought against him. Thus he grants him the authority of calling the Assembly, and, after that, will have him excluded from it — an odd opinion, I acknowledge. But, for all this, Melancthon ought not to be deemed a person unskilled in these matters : he was not so reputed by his own party, — the only person, I may say, in whom they could boast, and excelled by none among them in sense or erudition. If he proposes things contradictory, it was because the new Reformation allowed nothing that was right or consistent. He was correct in saying that it belonged to the Pope to call the Council, for who else should call it, particularly in the present state of Christianity ? Was there any other power, except that of the Pope, which the whole world acknowledged ? and to deprive him of it at once, before the Assembly, in which they said they had intended to accuse him, was not this too unjust a prejudice ? Above all, when the matter in debate was no personal crime of the Pope, but the doctrine which he had received from his predecessors so many ages ago, and which was common /to him with all the bishops of the church ? These reasons were so solid, that the rest of the Lutherans, opposed to Melancthon, acknow-

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 191 ledged them, as he himself has just told us, " to be true." But those who acknowledged this truth, however, maintained at the same time, and with good reason, that if they granted the Pope the power of forming the Assembly, they could no longer exclude him from it. The bishops, who ever acknowledged him the Chief of their order, and saw themselves in a synodical body convened by his authority, would they suffer their assembly to commence with dispossessing a natural President for a cause common to them all ? Would they give an example unheard of in all past ages ? These things were inconsistent ; and in this conflict of the Lutherans it appeared manifestly that, after certain principles are overthrown, everything that follows is untenable and contradictory.

— Reasons for the restriction which Melancthon placed to his Subscription in the articles of Smalkald.

If they persisted in refusing the Council which the Pope had convened, Melancthon had no further hopes of a remedy for the schism ; and it was on this occasion he spoke the words above cited, " that discord would be everlasting*," in consequence of not recognizing the authority of the sacred order. Afflicted at so great an evil, he pursues his point ; and although the opinion he had proposed for the Pope, or, rather, for the unity of the church, in the Assembly of Smalkald, was there rejected, he made his own subscription to the above form, as we have seen, reserving the authority of the Pope. The important causes and reasons which obliged him to concede the superiority of the Pope over the Bishops are now seen. — Peace, — which reason and experience of the dispositions of his own sect made him consider impossible without these means, — forced him, in opposition to Luther, upon so necessary an expedient. His conscience, at this time, triumphed over his complaisance ; and he added only, that he gave the Pope a superiority of "human right:" unhappy in not seeing that a Primacy which experience showed him to be so necessary for the church, well deserved to have been instituted by Jesus Christ ; nay more, what is found established in all ages, could proceed from none but him !

— The words of Melancthon on the authority of the

Church.

Surprising were the sentiments he had with regard to the authority of the Church. For, although, like other Protestants, he would not allow the infallibility of the Chm-ch in disputes, lest, said he, too great a prerogative should be given to men, the dictates of his mind carried him still farther. He frequently repeated, that Jesus Christ had promised his Church to support her for ever ; that he had promised his "work," that is, his church, "should never be dissipated nor abolished ;" and, therefore, to ground himself upon the faith of the Church, was to ground himself not on man, but on the promise of Jesus Christ himself²¹. This induced him to say even, " Sooner may the earth open under my feet, than it happen to me to depart from the sentiment of the church in which Christ Jesus does reign." And, in other numberless places, "Let the church judge — I submit myself to the judgment of the churclrh" The truth is, that faith, which he had in the promise, vacillated frequently ; and, once, after having said, according to the sentiments of his heart, " I submit myself to the Catholic Church,1' he adds, " that is to say, to good men, and learned ment ." This, his limitation, I acknowledge destroyed the whole ; and it is easily seen what that submission was, which, under the name of good and learned men, acknowledges none, at the bottom, but such as he pleases : for this reason he wished always to come to a fixed character, and avowed authority, which was that of the Bishops.

— Melancthon cannot depart from the opinion of imputed justice, whatever grace God bestoivs on him for his return. — Two truths acknowledged by him.

If it be now asked, How it happened that a man so desirous of peace did not seek it in the church, but remained separated from that sacred order he was so intent on establishing? it is easily answered — it was chiefly because he could never abandon his imputed justice. God, however, had given him great graces, since he had the knowledge of two truths capable of reclaiming him : one, that a doctrine not found in antiquity ought not to be followed. " Consult (said he, to f Lib. iii. Ep. 44. Lib.i. Ep. 67, 105. Lib.ii. Ep. 159, etc.

Lib. i. Ep. 109.

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 193

Brentius) with the ancient church²² :" and, again, " Opinions unknown to the ancient church are not to be received-]-." The other truth, that is, his doctrine of imputed justice, was not to be met with in the Fathers. As soon as he began to set about explaining it, we have heard him say, " He found nothing like it in their writings];." Nevertheless, they thought fit to say, in the Augsburg Confession and Apology, that nothing was advanced therein but was conformable to their doctrine. Above all, St. Augustine was cited ; and it had been too shameful to the Reformers to own that so great a Doctor, the defender of Christian grace, had been ignorant of the foundation of it. But what Melancthon writes to a friend in confidence, shows us plainly that it was only for form sake, and to save appearances, they named St. Augustine in the party. For he repeats three or four times, with a kind of concern, that what hinders his friend from well understanding this matter is, because " he is still too much wedded to St. Augustine's imagination,"" and that " he must turn away his eyes entirely from the imagination of this Father§." But, then, what is this imagination he must turn his eyes from ? Why, it is (says he) the imagination of being held for just by the fulfilling of the law, which the Holy Ghost works within us. This fulfilling, according to Melancthon, avails nothing towards rendering man agreeable to God, and it was a false imagination in St. Augustine to have thought the contrary : thus does he treat so great a man. And, nevertheless, he cites him, on account, says he, of the public opinion men have of him. But, in the main, continues he, " he does not sufficiently explain the justice of faith." As if he said, on such a subject, we ought at least to cite a Father the whole world considers the best interpreter of this article, although, to speak the truth, he makes not for us. He found nothing more favourable in the rest of the Fathers. " What dense darkness (said he) do we find on this subject in the common doctrine of the Fathers and our adversaries Ij.11 What became of those fine words, Consult with the ancient church ? Why did he not practise what he advised others? And seeing he knew no piety (as, indeed, none there is but what is grounded on the true doctrine of justification), how could he believe so many saints were ignorant of it ? How could he imagine he saw so clearly in Scripture what he did not see in the Fathers, not even in St.

% Lib.iii. Ep. 12G, col. 574, S.n.2. § Lib.i.Ep.lM. || Lib. iv. Ep. 228.

VOL. I. O

Augustine, the doctor and defender of justifying grace against the Pelagians, whose doctrine also, in this point, the whole church had constantly followed ?

— Melancthon can neither satisfy himself in imputed justice, nor resolve to abandon it.

But what most deserves our observation in this place is, that he himself, smitten as he was with the specious idea of his imputed justice, never could succeed in explaining it to his own liking. Not content with laying down the dogma regarding it in the most ample manner in the Confession of Augsburg, he applies himself wholly to the expounding of it in the Apology ; and, whilst he composed it, he wrote to his friend Camerarius, '²³ I truly suffer a very great and painful labour in the Apology, in the points of justification, which I desire to explain profitably²⁴." But, however, after all this pains-taking, has he fully explained it ? Let us hear what he writes to another friend ; it is the same we have seen him reprove as too much wedded to St. Augustine's imaginations. " I have endeavoured (says he) to explain this doctrine in the Apology, but, in such discourses as these, the calumnies of our adversaries permit not the explaining of myself so as I do to you at present, though, in reality, I say the same thing-f-." And, a little after, " I hope you will find some kind of help from my Apology, although I there speak with caution of so great matters." This whole letter scarcely contains one single page, the Apology has more than a hundred on this subject; and, notwithstanding, this letter, according to him, explains it better than the Apology. The thing was, he durst not say in the Apology as clearly as he did in this letter, " that we must entirely take off our eyes from the accomplishment of the law, even from that which the Holy Ghost works in us." This is what he called rejecting St. Augustine's imagination. He saw himself always pressed with this question of the Catholics : If we are agreeable to God independently of all good works, and all fulfilling of the law, even of that which the Holy Ghost works in us, how and whereto are good works necessary ? Melancthon perplexed himself in vain to ward off this blow, and to elude this dreadful consequence : " Therefore good works, according to you, are not necessary." This is what he called calumnies of adversaries, which hindered

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 195 him from owning frankly, in the Apology, all he had a mind to say — this was the cause of that great labour he had to undergo, and of those precautions of which he spoke.

To a friend the whole mystery of the doctrine was disclosed, but in public he was to be on his guard ; he yet further added to his friend, that, after all, this doctrine is not well understood, except in u the conflicts of conscience :" which was as much as to say, that when a man could do no more, and knew not how to assure himself of having a will sufficient for fulfilling the law, the remedy for preserving all this, notwithstanding the undoubted assurance of jjleasing God preached up in the new Gospel, was to take off their eyes from the law and the fulfilling of it, in order to believe that, independently of all this, God reputed us for just. This was the repose Melancthon flattered himself with, and which he never would relinquish. This difficulty, indeed, always occurred, that of holding oneself assured of the forgiveness of sins without a like assurance of conversion ; as if these two things were ^separable, and independent one of the other. This occasioned, in Melancthon, that great labour ; and therein he could never satisfy himself; so that after the Confession of Augsburg, and so many painful inquiries of the Apology, he comes besides, in the Confession called Saxonic, to another exposition of justifying grace, where he advances other novelties, which we shall see in time.

Thus is man agitated when smitten with an idea that has but a delusive appearance — fain would he explain his thoughts, but knows not how — fain would he find in the Fathers what he searches after ; no such principle is to be found in them, yet cannot he renounce the flattering idea that so agreeably prepossesses him. Let us tremble and humble ourselves — let us acknowledge that, in man, there is a profound source of pride and error ; and that the weaknesses of the human mind, like to the judgments of God, are unfathomable.

— Melancthon 's grievous agonies — he foresees the dreadful consequences of the overthrow of Church authority.

Melancthon was persuaded he saw truth on one side, and lawful authority on the other. His heart was divided, and the struggle to reunite these two gave him continual torment. He was not able to renounce the charms of his imputed justice, nor to make the body of the bishops receive a doctrine o 2

186 THE HISTORY OP [BOOK the midst of his misfortunes, he is pleased with the thoughts of writing a fine work, and persists in his belief, as the following will more fully discover to us.

— Melancthon declares that he adheres to the Confession of Augsburg, at the time he thinks of reforming it.

What repose could Melancthon have during these uncertainties? The evil was, they arose from the very grounds, and, as I may say, from the constitution of his church, in which there was no regular jxnver, no legitimate authority. Usurped authority has no uniformity ; it bends or relaxes without moderation. Thus tyranny and anarchy are felt in it alternately ; nor is it known to whom application should be made to arrange matters in a steady frame.

— These uncertainties proceeded from the constitution of the Protestant Churches.

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 187 should have the power of deciding, and to which all the people should submit. But where was this to be had in the new Reformation? The remembrance of the despised bishops was still too recent ; the individuals, who had possessed themselves of their places, could not assume to themselves a more inviolable character; and, indeed, both sides, Lutherans and Zuinglians, wished to have their mission judged of by the merits of the cause. He who spoke the truth had, according to them, the true mission. The difficulty was to know who spoke the truth, which every person claimed ; and all those who rested their mission on this examination made it doubtful. The Catholic bishops had a certain title, and their vocation alone was indisputable. It was said they abused it, nor was it denied that they had. Thus Melancthon always wished to acknowledge them, and always maintained that it was wrong " to yield nothing to the sacred order*.1' If their authority was not reestablished, he anticipated, with a lively and inconsolable sorrow, that " discord would have no end, and would be attended with ignorance, barbarity, and all kind of evils."

— The authority of the Church absolutely necessary in matters of Faith.

It is very easy to say, as our reformed do, that they have an extraordinary vocation ; that the church, like kingdoms, is not attached to an established succession ; and matters of religion ought not to be judged in the same form that causes are at tribunals. Conscience, say they, is the true tribunal, where each one is to judge matters as they are in themselves, and hear truth from himself: these things, I repeat, are very easily said. Melancthon said them, like the others ; but, in his conscience, was very sensible some other foundation was necessary on which to build the church. For, in reality, why should she have less order than empires ? Why should she not have a legitimate succession in her magistrates ? Ought a way to be left open to every man who would say he was sent from God, or the faithful be obliged to investigate the cause to the bottom, though the greatest part of men are incapable of such inquiry ? Such language may serve for disputation ; but when a matter is to be terminated, — the peace of the church to be established, — and true repose, without impediment, given to the consciences of men, we must have recourse to other means. Do what we may, we must return to autho- not always wholly extinguish them ; and as God leaves in his children some remains of concupiscence, which keeps them in humility²⁵ Satan, his imitator, in a contrary sense, leaves also in his slaves, however strange it may seem, some remains of piety, (false, to be sure, and deceitful,) but yet apparent, whereby he accomplishes their seduction. To complete the mischief, they believe themselves saints, without reflecting that piety, unattended with all its requisites, is nothing but hypocrisy.

Melancthon, from some interior impulse, was moved to think that peace and unity, without which there is neither faith nor church, had no other support on earth but the authority of the ancient pastors. He did not follow this divine light to its whole extent ; his foundations were all subverted ; everything fell out contrary to his hopes. He aspired to unity ; he lost it for ever, without being able to meet with so much as the shadow of it in the party wherein he had sought it. The Reformation, brought about or supported by arms, filled him with horror ; he saw himself under the necessity of finding out excuses for an extravagance which he detested. Let us reflect on what he wrote to the Landgrave of Hesse, whom he saw ready to take up arms : — " May your Highness be persuaded that it is better to endure all extremities than to take up arms for the Gospel cause.²⁶" But he was forced to retract this fine maxim, when the party had entered into a confederacy to make war, and Luther himself had declared for them.

The unfortunate Melancthon could not even retain his natural sincerity ; but was obliged to join with Bucer in laying snares for the Catholics, in affected equivocations ; to load them with calumnies in the Confession of Augsburgf ; to approve publicly this Confession, which he wished from the bottom of his heart to see reformed in so many points ; to speak always as best pleased others ; to pass his whole life in perpetual dissimulation ; and that even with respect to religion, the first act whereof is to believe, as the second is to confess. What constraint ! what a corruption ! But party zeal carries all before it: one hardens and animates another ; they must not only defend themselves, but multiply ; the fine name of Reformation makes all lawful, and the first engagement makes all necessary.

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 199

— The Princes and Doctors of the 'party are alike insupportable to him.

Meanwhile the heart is stung with secret reproaches, and such a state becomes irksome. Melancthon often declares that strange things pass in his mind, and knows not how to express his internal anguish. In the account he gives his intimate friend Camerarius, concerning the decrees of the Assembly of Spire, and the resolutions taken by the Protestants, all the terms he employs to represent his grief are extreme. " They are incredible agitations and the torments of hell : he is almost brought to death's door. What he feels is horrible : his consternation is astonishing. During his oppressions he is sensibly convinced how much certain people are to blame²⁷." When he dares not to speak out, it is some head of the party that is to be understood, and principally Luther : it was not certainly out of any fear of Rome that he wrote with so much precaution, and kept within such bounds ; and, on the other hand, it is most certain nothing troubled him so much as what passed in the party itself, where all things were carried on by political interests, underhand contrivances, and violent counsels ; in a word, nothing was there treated on but leagues, " which all good men (said he) ought to preventf." All the affairs of the Reformation turned on these leagues of princes with the confederate towns, which the Emperor had a mind to break, and the Protestant princes were resolved to maintain ; and this is what Melancthon wrote to Camerarius on the subject : — " You see, my dear friend, that in all these conventions nothing is less thought on than religion ; fear moV~o fhem propose agreements, such as they are, for a time *. . ,:ith dissimulation ; and no wonder if such treaties succeed ill ; for is it possible that God should bless such counsels % ?" Far from exaggerating when he speaks thus, it is perceived, even from his letters, that he saw something in the party still worse than what he wrote. " I see (says he) that there is something secretly contriving, and I wish I were able to stifle all my thoughts §." He had such a disgust against the princes of his own party and their assemblies, into which they always brought him, in order to draw from his eloquence and facility excuses for counsels he approved not of, that at length he cried out — " Happy are they who meddle not with public affairs ||." Nor did he ever find the least repose, till, after a too clear conviction of the evil intentions of those princes, " he had quite left off giving himself any concern about their projects²⁸." But they entangled him again in their intrigues in spite of him ; and we shall soon see how he was obliged to authorise, by writing, their most scandalous proceedings. The opinion he had of the Doctors of the party, and how little he was satisfied with them, has been already shown : but here is something still stronger. " Their manners are such (says he), that, to speak very moderately, many people, moved at the confusion they behold amongst them, think any other state a golden age comparatively to that they put us inf." He judged "these wounds incurable J;" and the Reformation, from the very beginning, stood in need of another reformation.

— The prodigies, the prophecies, the horoscopes, icherewith Melancthon was disturbed.

Besides these agitations, in his correspondence with Camerarius, Osiander, and the rest of the heads of the party, and with Luther himself, he was continually upon the subject of the prodigies that happened, and the dreadful threats of the angry heavens. Sometimes you know not what he would be at : but it is always something terrible — something, I know not what, which he promises to disclose in private to his friend Camerarius, raises a kind of horror when you read him²⁹. Other prodigies, almost coincident with the sitting of the Diet of Augsburg, appeared to him favourable to the new Gospel. At Rome, " the extraordinary overflowing of the Tiber, and a mule's bringing forth whose foal had a crane's foot ;" in the territory of Augsburg, the birth of a fi calf with two heads," Avere to him a sign of an unquestionable change in the state of the universe, and, in particular of " Rome's approaching ruin by schism || :" it is what he writes most seriously to Luther himself, informing him withal, that this happened on that same day the Confession of Augsburg was presented to the Emperor. Here we see with what notions the authors of this Confession, and the heads of the Reformation, fed themselves at so great a conjuncture : Melancthon's letters are quite full of dreams and visions, and one is apt to think he is reading Titus Livius, upon viewing all the prodigies there related. Is this all ?

V.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 201

Oh, the extreme weakness of a mind in other respects admirable, and, but for his prepossession, so penetrating ! The threats of astrologers terrify him. He is continually under frights from the ominous conjunctions of the stars — "a dreadful aspect of Mars" makes him tremble for his daughter, whose horoscope he himself had cast. He is not less " dismayed at the horrible flame of a comet extremely northern³⁰." While the conferences were held at Augsburg upon matters of religion, he comforts himself for their proceeding so slowly on, because " the astrologers foretell that the stars will be more propitious to ecclesiastical disputes towards autumnf." God was above all these presages, it is true ; and Melancthon repeats it frequently, as well as the almanac-makers ; but, after all, the stars rule even church affairs. We find his friends, that is, the heads of the party, entered with him into these reflections : as for himself, his unlucky nativity promised him nothing but endless contests on doctrine, great labours, and little fruit. He is astonished, born as he was on the hills adjacent to the Rhine, that it should have been foretold him he was to suffer shipwreck on the Baltic seat ; and being sent for into England and Denmark, he is determined not to venture himself on that sea. To so many prodigies and so many threats of unfriendly constellations, to complete the illusion, he joined also prophecies. It was one of the party's weaknesses to believe that their whole success had been foretold ; and here is one of the most remarkable predictions they boast of. In 1516, as they say, and a year before the commotions of Luther, some cordelier or other, commenting on Daniel, had taken it into his head to say, that the " Pope's power was going to decline, and would never rise again§1" This prediction was equally true with that other which this new prophet tacked to it, namely, that in 1600 "the Turk would be master of all Italy and Germany." Notwithstanding, Melancthon seriously relates the vision of this fanatic, and boasts of having the original by him, just as it was written by the brother cordelier. Who would not have trembled at this news ? The Pope, it seems, already staggered at Luther's blow, and now they will have it that he is quite laid flat. Melancthon takes all this for prophecy ; so weak is man when prepossessed. After the Pope's downfall he believes he sees the victorious Turk pressing forward ; nay,

■f lb. Ep. 93. t Lib. ii. Ep. 448.37. $ Mel. Lib. i. Ep. 65.

the earthquakes that happened then confirm him in this thought.

Who would believe him capable of all these impressions, if all his letters were not full of them ? We must do him this honour — they were not his own dangers which caused him so much trouble and anxiety. In the midst of his most violent agitations we hear him say confidently, " our dangers disturb me less than our faults³¹." He assigns a fine motive for his grief — the public grievances, and particularly the grievances of the church : but the truth is, he was sensible in his conscience, as he frequently acknowledges, how great a share those persons had in these grievances who had boasted of being the reformers of them. But enough of the troubles which afflicted Melancthon in particular : the reasons of his behaviour at the Assembly of Smalcald, and the motives for the restriction he put to that furious article which Luther proposed against the Pope, have been sufficiently explained.

VI.] THE VARIATIONS, ETC. 203

Orat. p. 26. ↩
Lib. iv. Ep. 126. Col. 574. f Ibid. Col. 575. ↩
Lib.iv. Ep. 100—119, 812. f Lib. ii. Ep.202. + Lib.i. Ep. 17. ↩
Ep. ad Far. Int. Ep. Calv. p. 5. f Int. Ep. Calv. p. 509, 510. ↩
Calv. Ep. p. 50, 5 1 , 52. f Int. Ep. Calv. p. 52. ↩
Visit. Sax. c. de Doct. c. de Libert. Christ. § Ibid, ↩
Visit. Sax. cap. de Doct. cap. de Libert. Christ. \ Int. Epist. Calv. p. 5. n. 7, ↩
Mel. Ep. Lib. i. p. 70. col. 84. t Ep. p. 818, 822. Lib. xix. Ep. 3, 31, 47. p. 20G3 ↩
Lib. xix. 2, 30, 62. t Lib. xix. 3. ;j; Lib. xxxi. Epist. 59. col. 2118. ↩
Int. Ep. Calv. p. 54. || Visit. Sax. Cap. de Doct. c. de lib. cbr. ↩
Ep. p. 52G. -)- Calv. Ep. ad Mel. p. 72. ↩
Cam. in Vit. Phil. Mel. f Peuc. cp. ad Vit. Heod. Hosp. p. 2. ↩
Lib. i. ep. 110. col. 147. + Ep. Mel. int. Calv. cp. p. 218, 236. ↩
|| Mel. cpist. ad Calv. int. Calv. epist. p. 144. ^ Lib- iv- eP« 836> 842> 845- ↩
Lib. iv. ep. 194. | Ibid. ep. 98. { Lib. i. ep. 110. ↩
Lib. iv. cp. 6G2. . j| Lib. iv. ep, 6C2. % Ibid. ep. 699. ↩
Lib. iv. Ep, 196. ↩
llesp. ad Bell. ↩
Lil». iv.Ep. IDC. ↩
Lib. iv. Ep. 196. ↩
Lib. i. Ep. 107. iv. 76, 733. S45, S76, etc. ↩
Lib. iii. Ep. 114. f Mel.de Eccles. Cath. ap. Lut. t. i. p. 444. ↩
Lib.iv.Ep.110. Omnino valde multum laboris sustineo, &c. f Lib. i, Ep. 94, ↩
Lib. iv. Ep, 19G. ↩
Lib. iii. Ep. 16. Lib. iv. Ep. 110.111. f V. S. lib. iv. n.2. etseq. lb. n. 24. ↩
Lib. iv. Ep. 85. t Sleid. lib. viii. i Lib. iv. Ep. 137. ↩
Ibid. Ep. 70. || Ibid. Ep. 85. ↩
Lib. iv. Ep. 228. * Ibid. Ep. 742. J Ibid. Ep. 759. ↩
Lib. ii. Ep. 89. 269. || Lib. i. Ep. 120. iii. 69. ↩
Lib. ii. Ep. 37. 445. Lib. iv. Ep. 119, 135, 137, 195, 198, 759, 844, etc. 119, 14G. ↩
Lib. iv. Ep. 70. ↩

Chapter 7 of 18

Book V. General Reflections on the agitations of Melancthon, and the State of the Reformation

Footnotes