Thus, you do what you can to make us ignorant of what is the efficacy of our own will, and what is the efficacy of the mercy of God, in that very place in which you teach us what is the conjoint efficacy of both. That prudence of yours, by which you have determined to keep clear of both parties, and to emerge in safety between Scylla and Charybdis, so whirls you round and round in its vortex, that being overwhelmed with waves and confounded with fears 97 in the midst of the passage, you assert all that you deny, and you deny all that you assert.
SECT. 7. Erasmus’ theology exposed by similes.
I will expose your theology to you, by two or three similes. What if a man, setting about to make a good poem or speech, were not to consider or inquire what sort his genius is; what he is equal to, and what he is not; what the subject which he has taken in hand requires. Rather, he altogether neglects that precept of Horace, ‘what your shoulders are able to bear, and what is too heavy for them,’ and rushes headlong upon his attempt to execute the work. He thinks to himself that he must try and get it done; and that it would be superfluous and curious to inquire whether he has the erudition, the powers of language, and the genius which the task requires. What if a man, anxious to reap abundant fruits from his ground, were not curious to exercise abundant care in exploring the nature of his soil, as Virgil in his Georgics curiously and vainly teaches us. Rather, he hurries on rashly, having no thought except to finish his work. He ploughs the shore, and casts his seed wherever there is an open space, whether sand or mud. What if a man, going to war and desirous of a splendid victory, or having some other service to perform for the state, were not curious to consider what he is able to effect; whether his treasury is rich enough; whether his soldiers are expert; whether he has any power to execute his design?
Rather, he altogether despises that precept of the historian, ‘before you act, there is need for deliberation; and when you have deliberated, you must be quick to execute.’ He rushes on, with his eyes shut and his ears stopped, crying out nothing but “war,” “war,” and vehemently pursues his work.
What judgment would you pronounce, Erasmus, upon such poets, husbandmen, generals, and statesmen? I will add that simile in the Gospel, if any man, building a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has the means to finish it — what is Christ’s judgment on that man?
Thus, you command us only to work, and you forbid us to first of all explore and measure, or ascertain our strength, what we can do, and what we cannot do — as though this were curious, unnecessary, and irreligious. The effect is that, by excessive prudence, you deprecate temerity, and make a show 98 of sober-mindedness; but nonetheless, you come at last to the extreme of counselling the greatest temerity. For, although the Sophists act rashly and insanely, by discussing curious 99 subjects, yet their offence is milder than yours; for you even teach and command men to be mad and rash. To make this insanity still greater, you persuade us that this temerity is most beautiful — that it is Christian piety, sobriety, religious gravity, and soundness of mind. Indeed, if we do not act so, then you, who are such an enemy to assertions, assert that we are irreligious, curious, and vain. 100 Thus you have beautifully escaped your Scylla, while avoiding your Charybdis.101
It is your confidence in your own talents which drives you to this point. You think that you can impose on men’s minds by your eloquence, to such a degree that no man will be able to perceive what a monster you are cherishing in your bosom, and what an object you are labouring to achieve by these slippery writings of yours. But “God is not mocked;” nor is it good for a man to strike upon such a rock as HIM.
Besides, if you had taught us this rashness in making poems, in procuring the fruits of the earth, in conducting wars and civil employments, or in building houses — though it would be intolerable, especially in a man like yourself — you would, after all, have deserved at least some indulgence from Christians, who despise temporal things. But when you command even Christians to be these rash workmen, and in the very matter of their eternal salvation, insist upon their being incurious as to their natural powers — what they can and cannot do — this surely is an offence which cannot be pardoned. For they will not know what they are doing, so long as they are ignorant of what and how much they can do. And if they do not know what they are doing, they cannot possibly repent if they are in error; and impenitence is an unpardonable sin. To such an abyss does that moderate, sceptical theology of yours conduct us!
SECT. 8. Absolute necessity of the subject of Freewill for true piety.
It is not irreligious, then, nor curious, nor superfluous, but it is most of all useful and necessary to a Christian, to know whether the will does anything, or nothing, in the matter of salvation. Indeed, to tell the truth, this is the very hinge of our disputation — the very question at issue turns upon it. 102 We are occupied in discussing what the free will does, what the free will allows, and what its proportion is to the grace of God.
If we are ignorant of these things, we will know nothing at all about Christianity, and will be worse than Heathens. Let the man who does not understand this subject, acknowledge that he is no Christian. Let the man who censures or despises it, know that he is the worst enemy of Christians. For, if I do not know what, how far, and how much I can, of my own natural powers, do and effect towards God, then it will be alike uncertain and unknown to me what, how far, and how much God can and does effect in me: whereas, God “works all in all!” 103
Again, if I do not know the works and power of God, then I do not know God himself; and if I do not know God, then I cannot worship, praise, give him thanks, or serve him — being ignorant of how much I ought to attribute to myself, and how much to God. Therefore, if we would live piously, then we should distinguish with the greatest clearness, between God’s power and our own power, and between God’s work and our own work.
You see then, that this question is the one part 104 of the whole sum of Christianity! Both the knowledge of ourselves, and the knowledge and glory of God, are dependent upon the hazard of its decision. It is then insufferable in you, my Erasmus, to call the knowledge of this truth irreligious, curious,105 and vain. We owe much to you. But we owe all to piety. Indeed, you yourself think that all good is to be ascribed to God, and you assert this in the description you have given to us, of your own Christianity.
And if you assert this, you unquestionably assert in the same words, that the mercy of God does all, and that our will does not act at all, but rather is acted upon. Otherwise, all will not be attributed to God. But a little while after, you declare that the assertion and even the knowledge of this truth, is neither religious, pious, nor salutary. However, the mind which is inconsistent with itself, and which is uncertain and unskilled in matters of piety, is obliged to speak so.
SECT. 9. Erasmus has omitted the question of God’s prescience.
The other part of the sum of Christianity, is to know whether God foreknows anything contingently; and whether we do everything necessarily. This part you also represent as irreligious, curious, and vain, as all other profane men do. Indeed, the devils and the damned represent it as utterly odious and detestable. And
