CCCV.—To Melanchthon.[400]

Earnest desires for the continuance of their mutual affection—disputes with Trolliet—longing for agreement in doctrine regarding the Communion and Election.

28th November 1552.

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

John Calvin.

[Calvin's Lat. Corresp. Opera, tom. ix. p. 66.]