Thus Melanchthon in 1521. We may compare the promises Luther held out to those who were filled with faith to his own happy expectations of the outcome of his relations with Melanchthon: “There, faith sets to work with joy and charity,” “to serve others and to be helpful to them”; the consoling words of St. Paul (Phil. ii. 1 ff.) were being fulfilled in brotherly unity, “consolation in Christ, comfort of charity, society of the spirit, bowels of commiseration,” and the result would be a “free, willing, happy life”; “when the heart thus hears the voice of Christ, it must be joyful and receive entire consolation.”[1202] In Melanchthon’s case, however, these promises were not realised in the event; on the contrary, inward disappointment and mental suffering were increasingly to become his portion. Between 1528 and 1530 he openly admitted that he was burdened with cares and troubles beyond measure, and only consoled himself with the thought that the Day of Judgment must be at the door. He was suffering all the pangs of hell on account of the sights he was forced to witness, and would much rather die than continue to suffer; the state of ecclesiastical affairs caused him unspeakable pain, and not a day passed that he did not long for death.[1203] Complaints such as these are to be found in his correspondence till the very end of his life, so that his most recent Protestant biographer speaks of his letters, more particularly those to Camerarius, as witnessing to the “anxiety, misery and profound mental suffering” which “consumed him”; he also alludes to the “wine trodden out with such bitter pain” which posterity enjoys, thanks to his labours. “Most of these productions [the letters to Camerarius] it is impossible to read without feeling the deepest sympathy.” “Even his severest accuser will assuredly be disarmed when he sees what Melanchthon suffered.”[1204] At the commencement of the ‘thirties he bewails his “unhappy fate” which had entangled him in religious disputes,[1205] and, seven years later, we have this startling confession: “The cruel dolours of soul which I have endured for three years on end, and the other cares which each day brings, have wasted me to such an extent that I fear I cannot live much longer.”[1206] In the next decade we have another confession to the same effect: “I shall not be sorry to leave this prison (‘_ergastulum_’) when he [Luther, whom Melanchthon here calls ‘_infestus_’] throws me over.”[1207] The various stages of his unhappy life, the outward influences under which he came and many other accompanying circumstances, are now known from various sources.