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.