CCLXIII.—To Melanchthon.[281]

Controversies excited in Germany by the establishment of the Interim—Brotherly reproofs.

[18th June 1550.]

The ancient satirist once said,—

"Si natura negat, facit indignatio versum."

It is at present far otherwise with me. So little does my present grief aid me in speaking, that it rather renders me almost entirely speechless. Besides, as I cannot express in words how my mind is affected, being overcome with merely thinking on the subject on which I am about to write, I am almost struck dumb. I would have you suppose me to be groaning rather than speaking. It is too well known, from their mocking and jests, how much the enemies of Christ were rejoicing over your contests with the theologians of Magdeburg.[282] They certainly presented a foul and abominable spectacle, as well to the Lord and the angels, as to the whole Church. If no blame attaches to you in this matter, my dear Philip, it would be but the dictate of prudence and justice, to devise a means of curing the evil, or at least of somewhat mitigating it. Yet, forgive me if I do not consider you altogether free from blame. And from this you may conjecture how severe the judgments of others are concerning you, and how offensive and unpleasant their remarks. In the mean while, let it be well understood, that in openly admonishing you, I am discharging the duty of a true friend; and if I employ a little more severity than usual, do not think that it is owing to any diminution of my old affection and esteem for you. Although for me to offend by rude simplicity, rather than bespeak by adulation the favour of any man, is nothing uncommon or new to you. I also feel, on the other hand, less anxiety about your taking it amiss to be reproved by me when I have just cause for displeasure, inasmuch as I am well aware that nothing gives you greater pleasure than open candour. I am truly anxious to approve all your actions, both to myself and to others. But I at present accuse you before yourself, that I may not be forced to join those who condemn you in your absence. This is the sum of your defence: that provided purity of doctrine be retained, externals should not be pertinaciously contended for.[283] And if it be true that is confidently asserted everywhere, you extend the distinction of non-essentials too far. You are not ignorant that the Papists have corrupted the worship of God in a thousand ways. We have put up with corruptions which were barely tolerable. The ungodly now order these same things to be restored, that they may triumph over a down-trodden gospel. And if any one does not hesitate to oppose this, will you not ascribe it to pertinacity? Every one knows how this is opposed to your modesty. If you are too facile in making concessions, you need not wonder if that is marked as a fault in you by many. Moreover, several of those things which you consider indifferent, are obviously repugnant to the word of God. Perhaps there are some who insist too positively on certain points, and, as usually happens in disputes, make offensive attacks upon some things which have little harm in themselves. Truly if I have any understanding in divine things, you ought not to have made such large concessions to the Papists; partly because you have loosed what the Lord has bound in his word, and partly because you have afforded occasion for bringing insult upon the Gospel. At a time when circumcision was as yet lawful, do you not see that Paul, because crafty and malicious fowlers were laying snares for the liberty of believers, pertinaciously refused to concede to them a ceremony at the first instituted by God? Accordingly, he boasts that he did not yield to them, no not for a moment, that the truth of the Gospel might remain intact among the Gentiles. In our day, indeed, the enemy has not troubled us about circumcision, but that they may not leave us anything pure, they are tainting both doctrine and every exercise of worship with their putrid leaven. As for the theologians of Magdeburg, you say that they were only raising disputes about a linen vesture. I do not see the force of this. I certainly think the use of the linen vesture, with many other fooleries, has been hitherto retained as much by you as by them. And, indeed, good and pious men everywhere deplore that you should have countenanced those corruptions which manifestly tend to destroy the purity of all doctrine, and to undermine the stability of the Church. Lest you may perhaps have forgotten what I once said to you, I now remind you of it, namely, that we consider our ink too precious if we hesitate to bear testimony in writing to those things which so many of the flock are daily sealing with their blood. I spoke thus, indeed, at a time when we seemed to be farther out of the reach of missiles [than at present]. And seeing that the Lord led us forth into the arena, it became us on that account to strive the more manfully. Your position is different from that of many, as yourself are aware. For the trepidation of a general or leader is more dishonourable than the flight of a whole herd of private soldiers. Accordingly, while the timidity of others may be overlooked, unless you give invariable evidence of unflinching steadfastness, all will say that vacillation in such a man must not be tolerated. You alone, by only giving way a little, will cause more complaints and sighs than would a hundred ordinary individuals by open desertion. And, although I am fully persuaded that the fear of death never compelled you in the very least to swerve from the right path, yet I am apprehensive that it is just possible, that another species of fear may have proved too much for your courage. For I know how much you are horrified at the charge of rude severity. But we must remember, that reputation must not be accounted by the servants of Christ as of more value than life. We are no better than Paul was, who held fearlessly on his way through "evil and good report." It is indeed a hard and disagreeable thing to be reckoned turbulent and inflexible,—men who would rather see the whole world in ruin, than condescend to any measure of moderation. But your ears should have been deaf to such talk long ago. I have not so bad an opinion of you, nor will I do you the injustice, to suppose that you resemble the ambitious, and hang upon the popular breath. Yet I have no doubt but that you are occasionally weakened by those goadings. What? Is it the part of a wise and considerate man to rend the Church for the sake of minute and all but frivolous matters? Must not peace be purchased at any tolerable amount of inconvenience? What madness is it to stand out for everything to the last, to the neglect of the entire substance of the Gospel! When lately these and similar remarks were circulated by designing men, I thought and perceived you to be more influenced by them than you should have been; accordingly, I open my mind candidly to you, lest anything should mar that truly divine magnanimity, which, in other respects, I know you to possess. You know why I am so vehement. I had rather die with you a hundred times, than see you survive the doctrines surrendered by you. Nor do I say this as if there was danger lest the truth of God made known by your ministry should come to nought, or as if I distrusted your steadfastness; but simply because you will never be sufficiently solicitous lest the wicked obtain an occasion of cavilling, which owing to your facileness they eagerly snatch at. Pardon me for loading your breast with these miserable, though ineffectual groans. Adieu, most illustrious sir, and ever worthy of my hearty regard. May the Lord continue to guide you by his Spirit, and sustain you by his might; may his protection guard you. Amen.[284] Salute, I entreat you, any of my friends that are near you. A great number here respectfully salute you. Multitudes, to avoid idolatry in France, are making choice of a voluntary exile among us.

John Calvin.

[Lat. orig. autogr.—Coll. of M. Troncliin at Geneva.]