The prodigies, the prophecies, the
horoscopes, wherewith Melanchthon 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, U know not what, which he promises to disclose in private
to his friend Camerarius, raises a kind of horror when you read him (Lib. ii.
Ep. 89.269). 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 “calf with
two heads,” were to him a sign of an unquestionable change in the state of the
universe, and, in particular of “Rome’s approaching ruin by schism:” (Lib. i.
Ep. 120. iii.69) 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: Melanchthon’s letters are quite full of dreams and
visions, and one is apt to think he is reading Titus Livius, upon viewing al
the prodigies there related. It this all? 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 northern” (Lib. ii. Ep. 37.445. Lib.
iv. Ep. 119, 135, 137, 195, 198, 759, 844, etc).
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 ore propitious to ecclesiastical disputes towards autumn”
(Ib. Ep. 93). God was above all these presages, it is true; and Melanchthon
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 sea (Lib. ii. Ep. 448.37); and being sent for into England and Denmark,
he is determined not to venture himself on that constellations to complete the
illusion, he joined also prophecies. It was one of the party’s weakness to
believe that their whole success had been foretold; and here is one of the most
remarkable predictions they boast of. In 1516, of the most remarkable
predictions they boast of. In 1516, as they say, and a year before the commotions
of Luther, 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” (Mel.
Lib. i. Ep. 65) 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, Melanchthon 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 tremble 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. Melanchthon 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, the earthquakes that happened then confirm him in
this thought. (Jacques Bénigne Bossuet, The History and the Variations of
the Protestant Churches, 2 vols. [2d ed.; Maynooth: Richard Coyne, 1836], 1:200-1)
