Philip was the son of a respectable engineer named Schwartzerde, that is, Black-earth, a name which he Grecised at a very early age, as soon as his literary tastes and talents began to display themselves,—assuming, in compliance with the suggestion of his distinguished kinsman Reuchlin or Capnio, and according to the fashion of the age, the classical synonyme of Melancthon. He was born at Bretten, a place near Wittemberg, February 16, 1497. He commenced his studies at Heidelberg in 1509; and after three years was removed to Tubingen, where he remained till 1518. These circumstances are in this instance not undeserving of notice, because Melancthon gave from his very boyhood abundant proofs of an active and brilliant genius, and acquired some juvenile distinctions which have been recorded by grave historians, and have acquired him a place among the ‘Enfans CÉlÈbres’ of Baillet. During his residence at Tubingen he gave public lectures on Virgil, Terence, Cicero, and Livy, while he was pursuing with equal ardour his biblical studies; and he had leisure besides to furnish assistance to Reuchlin in his dangerous contests with the monks, and to direct the operations of a printing-press. The course of learning and genius, when neither darkened by early prejudice nor perverted by personal interests, ever points to liberality and virtue. In the case of Melancthon this tendency was doubtless confirmed by the near spectacle of monastic oppression and bigotry; and thus we cannot question that he had imbibed, even before his departure from Tubingen, the principles which enlightened his subsequent career, and which throw the brightest glory upon his memory.

In 1518 (at the age of twenty-one) he was raised to the Professorship of Greek in the University of Wittemberg. The moment was critical. Luther, who occupied the theological chair in the same University, had just published his ‘Ninety-five Propositions against the Abuse of Indulgences,’ and was entering step by step into a contest with the Vatican. He was in possession of great personal authority; he was older by fourteen years, and was endowed with a far more commanding spirit, than his brother professor; and thus, in that intimacy which local circumstances and similarity of sentiments immediately cemented between these two eminent persons, the ascendancy was naturally assumed by Luther, and maintained to the end of his life. Melancthon was scarcely established at Wittemberg when he addressed to the Reformer some very flattering expressions of admiration, couched in indifferent Greek iambics; and in the year following he attended him to the public disputations which he held with Eckius on the supremacy of the Pope. Here he first beheld the strife into which he was destined presently to enter, and learned the distasteful rudiments of theological controversy.

Two years afterwards, when certain of the opinions of Luther were violently attacked by the Faculty of Paris, Melancthon interposed to defend their author, to repel some vain charges which were brought against him, and to ridicule the pride and ignorance of the doctors of the Sorbonne. About the same time he engaged in the more delicate question respecting the celibacy of the clergy, and opposed the Popish practice with much zeal and learning. This was a subject which he had always nearest his heart, and, in the discussions to which it led, he surpassed even Luther in the earnestness of his argument; and he at least had no personal interest in the decision, as he never took orders.

In 1528 it was determined to impose a uniform rule of doctrine and discipline upon the ministers of the Reformed churches; and the office of composing it was assigned to Melancthon. He published, in eighteen chapters, an ‘Instruction to the Pastors of the Electorate of Saxony,’ in which he made the first formal exposition of the doctrinal system of the Reformers. The work was promulgated with the approbation of Luther; and the article concerning the bodily presence in the Eucharist conveyed the opinion of the master rather than that of the disciple. Yet were there other points so moderately treated and set forth in so mild and compromising a temper, as sufficiently to mark Melancthon as the author of the document; and so strong was the impression produced upon the Roman Catholics themselves by its character and spirit, that many considered it the composition of a disguised friend; and Faber even ventured to make personal overtures to the composer, and to hold forth the advantages that he might hope to attain by a seasonable return to the bosom of the Apostolic Church.

The Diet of Augsburg was summoned soon afterwards, and it assembled in 1530, for the reconciliation of all differences. This being at least the professed object of both parties, it was desirable that the conferences should be conducted by men of moderation, disposed to soften the subjects of dissension, and to mitigate by temper and manner the bitterness of controversy. For this delicate office Luther was entirely disqualified, whereas the reputation of Melancthon presented precisely the qualities that seemed to be required; the management of the negotiations was accordingly confided to him. But not without the near superintendence of Luther. The latter was resident close at hand, he was in perpetual communication with his disciple, and influenced most of his proceedings; and, at least during the earlier period of the conferences, he not only suggested the matter, but even authorised the form, of the official documents.

It was thus that the ‘Confession of Augsbourg’ was composed; and we observe on its very surface thus much of the spirit of conciliation, that of its twenty-eight chapters twenty-one were devoted to the exposition of the opinions of the Reformers, while seven only were directed against the tenets of their adversaries. In the tedious and perplexing negotiations that followed, some concessions were privately proposed by Melancthon, which could scarcely have been sanctioned by Luther, as they were inconsistent with the principles of the Reformation and the independence of the Reformers. In some letters written towards the conclusion of the Diet, he acknowledged in the strongest terms the authority of the Roman Church, and all its hierarchy; he asserted that there was positively no doctrinal difference between the parties; that the whole dispute turned on matters of discipline and practice; and that, if the Pope would grant only a provisional toleration on the two points of the double communion and the marriage of the clergy, it would not be difficult to remove all other differences, not excepting that respecting the mass. “Concede,” he says to the Pope’s legate, “or pretend to concede those two points, and we will submit to the bishops; and if some slight differences shall still remain between the two parties, they will not occasion any breach of union, because there is no difference on any point of faith, and they will be governed by the same bishops; and these bishops, having once recovered their authority, will be able in process of time to correct defects which must now of necessity be tolerated.” On this occasion Melancthon took counsel of Erasmus rather than of Luther. It was his object at any rate to prevent the war with which the Protestants were threatened, and from which he may have expected their destruction. But the perfect and almost unconditional submission to the Roman hierarchy, which he proposed as the only alternative, would have accomplished the same purpose much more certainly; and Protestant writers have observed, that the bitterest enemy of the Reformation could have suggested no more effectual or insidious method of subverting it, than that which was so warmly pressed upon the Roman Catholics by Melancthon himself. Luther was indignant when he heard of these proceedings; he strongly urged Melancthon to break off the negotiations, and to abide by the Confession. Indeed, it appears that these degrading concessions to avowed enemies produced, as is ever the case, no other effect than to increase their pride and exalt their expectations, and so lead them to demand still more unworthy conditions, and a still more abject humiliation.

Howbeit, the reputation of Melancthon was raised by the address which he displayed during these deliberations; and the variety of his talents and the extent of his erudition became more generally known and more candidly acknowledged. The modesty of his character, the moderation of his temper, the urbanity of his manners, his flexible and accommodating mind, recommended him to the regard of all, and especially to the patronage of the great. He was considered as the peace-maker of the age. All who had any hopes of composing the existing dissensions and preventing the necessity of absolute schism placed their trust in the mildness of his expedients. The service which he had endeavoured to render to the Emperor was sought by the two other powerful monarchs of that time. Francis I. invited him to France in 1535, to reconcile the growing differences of his subjects; and even Henry VIII. expressed a desire for his presence and his counsels; but the Elector could not be persuaded to consent to his departure from Saxony.

In 1541 he held a public disputation with Eckius at Worms, which lasted three days. The conference was subsequently removed to Ratisbon, and continued, with pacific professions and polemic arguments, during the same year, with no other result than an expressed understanding that both parties should refer their claims to a general council, and abide by its decision.

In the meantime, as the Popes showed great reluctance to summon any such Council, unless it should assemble in Italy and deliberate under their immediate superintendence, and as the Reformers constantly refused to submit to so manifest a compromise of their claims, it seemed likely that some time might elapse before the disputants should have any opportunity of making their appeal. Wherefore the emperor, not brooking this delay, and willing by some provisional measure to introduce immediate harmony between the parties, published in 1548 a formulary of temporary concord, under the name of the Interim. It proclaimed the conditions of peace, which were to be binding only till the decision of the general council. The conditions were extremely advantageous, as might well have been expected, to the Roman Catholic claims. Nevertheless, they gave complete satisfaction to neither party, and only animated to farther arrogance the spirit of those whom they favoured.

The Interim was promulgated at the Diet held at Augsbourg, and it was followed by a long succession of conferences, which were carried on at Leipzig and in other places, under the Protestant auspices of Maurice of Saxony. Here was an excellent field for the talents and character of Melancthon. All the public documents of the Protestants were composed by him. All the acuteness of his reason, all the graces of his style, all the resources of his learning were brought into light and action; and much that he wrote in censure of the Interim was written with force and truth. But here, as on former occasions, the effects of his genius were marred by the very moderation of his principles, and the practical result of his labours was not beneficial to the cause which he intended to serve. For in this instance he not only did not conciliate the enemies to whom he made too large concessions, but he excited distrust and offence among his friends; and these feelings were presently exasperated into absolute schism.

On the death of Luther, two years before these conferences, the foremost place among the reformers had unquestionably devolved upon Melancthon. He had deserved that eminence by his various endowments, and his uninterrupted exertions: yet was he not the character most fitted to occupy it at that crisis. His incurable thirst for universal esteem and regard; his perpetual anxiety to soothe his enemies and soften the bigotry of the hierarchy, frequently seduced him into unworthy compromises, which lowered his own cause, without obtaining either advantage or respect from his adversaries. It is not thus that the ferocity of intolerance can be disarmed. The lust of religious domination cannot be satisfied by soothing words, or appeased by any exercise of religious charity. It is too blind to imagine any motive for the moderation of an enemy, except the consciousness of weakness. It is too greedy to accept any partial concession, except as a pledge of still farther humiliation, to end in absolute submission. It can be successfully opposed only by the same unbending resolution which itself displays, tempered by a calmer judgment and animated by a more righteous purpose.

The general principle by which the controversial writings of Melancthon at this time were guided was this—that there were certain essentials which admitted of no compromise; but that the Interim might be received as a rule, in respect to things which were indifferent. Hence arose the necessary inquiry, what could properly be termed indifferent. It was the object of Melancthon to extend their number, so as to include as many as possible of the points in dispute, and narrow the held of contention with the Roman Catholics. In the pursuance of this charitable design he did not foresee—first, that he would not advance thereby a single step towards the conciliation of their animosity—next, that he would sow amongst the Reformers themselves the seeds of intestine discord: but so, unhappily, it proved; and the feeble expedient which was intended to repel the danger from without, multiplied that danger by introducing schism and disorder within.

Indeed, we can scarcely wonder that it was so: for we find that among the matters to be accounted indifferent, and under that name conceded, Melancthon ventured to place the doctrine of justification by faith alone; the necessity of good works to eternal salvation; the number of the sacraments; the jurisdiction claimed by the pope and the bishops; extreme unction; and the observance of certain religious festivals, and several superstitious rites and ceremonies. It was not possible that the more intimate associates of Luther—the men who had struggled by his side, who were devoted to his person and his memory, who inherited his opinions and his principles, and who were animated by some portion of his zeal—should stand by in silence, and permit some of the dearest objects of their own struggles and the vigils of their master to be offered up to the foe by the irresolute hand of Melancthon. Accordingly, a numerous party rose, who disclaimed his principles and rejected his authority. At their head was Illyricus Flacius, a fierce polemic, who possessed the intemperance without the genius of Luther. The contest commonly known as the Adiaphoristic Controversy broke out with great fury; it presently extended its character so as to embrace various collateral points; and the Roman Catholics were once more edified by the welcome spectacle of Protestant dissension.

Melancthon held his last fruitless conference with the Roman Catholics at Worms in the year 1557; and he died three years afterwards, at the age of 63, the same age that had been attained by Luther. His ashes were deposited at Wittemberg, in the same church with those of his master; a circumstance which is thus simply commemorated in his epitaph:

Some days before his death, while it was manifest that his end was fast approaching, Melancthon wrote on a scrap of paper some of the reasons which reconciled him to the prospect of his departure. Among them were these—that he should see God and the Son of God; that he should comprehend some mysteries which he was unable to penetrate on earth, such as these:—why it is that we are created such as we are? what was the union of the two natures in Jesus Christ? that he should sin no more; that he should no longer be exposed to vexations; and that he should escape from the rage of the theologians. We need no better proof than this how his peaceable spirit had been tortured during the decline of life by those interminable quarrels, which were entirely repugnant to his temper, and yet were perpetually forced upon him, and which even his own lenity had seemingly tended to augment. And it is even probable that the theologians from whose rage it was his especial hope to be delivered were those who had risen up last against him, and with whom his differences were as nothing compared to the points on which they were agreed, his brother reformers. For being in this respect unfortunate, that his endeavours to conciliate the affections of all parties had been requited by the contempt and insults of all, he was yet more peculiarly unhappy, that the blackest contumely and the bitterest insults proceeded from the dissentients of his own. Thus situated, after forty years of incessant exertions to reform, and at the same time to unite, the Christian world, when he beheld discord multiplied, and its fruits ripening in the very bosom of the Reformation; when he compared his own principles and his own conscience with the taunts which were cast against him; when he discovered how vain had been his mission of conciliation, and how ungrateful a task it was to throw oil upon the waters of theological controversy; when he reflected how much time and forbearance he had wasted in this hopeless attempt,—he could scarcely avoid the unwelcome suspicion that his life had been, in some degree, spent in vain, and that in one of the dearest objects of his continual endeavours he had altogether failed.

The reason was, that the extreme mildness of his own disposition blinded him to the very nature of religious contests, and inspired him with amiable hopes which could not possibly be realized. He may have been a better man than Luther; he may even have been a wiser; he had as great acuteness; he had more learning and a purer and more perspicuous style; he had a more charitable temper; he had a more candid mind; and his love for justice and truth forbade him to reject without due consideration even the argument of an adversary. He was qualified to preside as a judge in the forum of theological litigation; yet was he not well fitted for that which he was called upon to discharge, the office of an advocate. He saw too much, for he saw both sides of the question; his very knowledge, acting upon his natural modesty, made him diffident. He balanced, he reflected, he doubted; and he became, through that very virtue, a tame sectarian and a feeble partisan.

But his literary talents were of the highest order, and were directed with great success to almost all the departments of learning. He composed abridgments of all the branches of philosophy, which continued long in use among the students of Germany, and purified the liberal arts from the dross which was mixed up with them. And it was thus that he would have purified religion; and as he had introduced the one reformation without violence, so he thought to accomplish the other without schism. But he comprehended not the character of the Roman Catholic priesthood, nor could he conceive the tenacity and the passion with which men, in other respects reasonable and respectable, will cling to the interests, the prejudices, the abuses, the very vices, which are associated with their profession. It was an easy matter to him to confound the superstitious rites and tenets of Rome by his profound learning and eloquent arguments; but it was another and a far different task to deal with the offended feelings of an implacable hierarchy. And thus it is, that while we admire his various acquirements and eminent literary talents, and praise the moderation of his charitable temper, we remark the wisdom of that Providence which entrusted the arduous commencement of the work of reformation to firmer and ruder hands than his.

Melancthon’s printed works are very numerous. The most complete edition of them is that of Wittemberg, in 1680,3, in four volumes folio.