LVIII.—To Nicolas Parent.[232]

Instructions regarding the Supper, and on various points of Ecclesiastical Discipline.

Worms, 14th December 1540.

I am well pleased that you have delayed the holy Supper for another month, for at the present time you could not administer it without neglecting that order which, for very sufficient reasons, I earnestly desire to be carefully attended to. I am greatly delighted, according to what I hear, that our Church holds well together, so that no inconvenience is felt from my absence; in the midst of my annoyances, it is especially refreshing and consolatory. Although I only spoke incidentally and very briefly, before my departure, what appeared to me to be worth while, I nevertheless gave faithful counsel. I rejoice that you take it in good part, not because it was mine, but because I am confident that it will prove not unuseful to you and wholesome to others. I am not a little perplexed in the devising of a method by which to give assistance to the poor. But you see the extreme destitution of our church, nor have I ever been able so to arrange matters that some help might be sent to us from France. Sturm left the other key at his own house. If only so much shall be found in the poor-box from whence you can supply the present need until my return, we shall then deliberate together what better can be done. There is no reason why you should give yourself much concern about those flying reports, which you understand are spread with no evil intent, but from mere idle folly.

I am really grieved on account of Philip, that his complaint is of so long continuance. He is a pious young man; modest, upright, prudent, so far as appears to me. Therefore, if the Lord shall preserve him to us, I have conceived the best hopes of his excellent natural disposition and understanding. Will you greet him kindly in my name? The other person you mention, the more he is destitute of help or comfort, the more carefully we ought to relieve him. What you tell me about the elderly woman, because there was something which looked so much out of the ordinary course of nature in the account, I could not at first be brought to the belief of it. Not that I thought you had done rashly that you had advertised me of it, since the story had been spread abroad by the discourses of many. Nor ought we feigningly to pass by scandals which are thus blown about upon the breath of rumour, even although they may be obscure, and not very well ascertained on good authority. For while it may be our duty to put down rashly-concocted slanders, we cannot duly distinguish between truth and falsehood, if we negligently pass over scandals which are in everybody's mouth. Now when Charles has given me certain information, that there are not only appearances of wantonness, which rather lead to a suspicion that there is something wrong, than enable us to deal with it, but has also announced the marriage, I have been utterly stupefied. It is certainly a scandal, which all the saints ought to hold in abomination. For what appears even more fabulous than when we read in the poets that women of sixty years of age are still wantons? And, indeed, this silly old woman has already arrived at her seventieth year, and has a son of an age which generally puts an end to the love-passages of married women. Had she only joined herself in marriage to some man of already declining years, she might have pretended that she sought something else than the delights of matrimony. She has now taken away not only every defence, but also every appearance of excuse. They thought that they laid their plans very cleverly, when they took advantage of a clandestine benediction. But they find by experience, both of them, how dangerous a thing it is to trifle with God. If you now ask me what may be your duty in this matter, I can scarcely help you forward in it. For although I consider that they ought to be severely reprehended, (nor can we avoid that, unless we are willing to forego our duty,) because, however, it is not free of danger, there is need of great caution being had, lest, being exasperated by us, they may overleap the fences, and burst away from each other with the same rashness by which they came together, and with greater scandal and more offensive profligacy. Therefore, unless some special occasion shall have been presented to you, I do not advise that you exchange a word with her upon the subject. But if a suitable occasion shall have presented itself, you may then shew her how greatly you were displeased that she had so little considered, in the conduct she had pursued, either her own character or the edification of the Church, and that there was not one serious or decent man who did not highly disapprove it. That you also did not entertain a doubt that this news will be both very bitter and very sad to me. At the same time, however, that she may not be utterly distracted or break out into insanity, you can soften the harshness of these expressions by kindly expressions, and exhort her to endeavour to make up for what has been so ill begun, by bringing the matter to a better ending. Lastly, you must use such discretion in the matter, that all shall be in order when I return.

I am so perplexed, or rather confused in my mind, as to the call from Geneva, that I can scarce venture to think what I ought to do,—that whenever I enter upon the consideration of this subject, I can perceive no outlet by which to escape. Wherefore, so long as I am constrained by this anxiety, I am suspicious of myself, and put myself into the hands of others, to be directed by them. In the meantime, let us beseech the Lord that he would point out the way to us. Adieu, dear brother. Greet for me, most lovingly, all our friends.—Yours,

Calvin.

When I was about to send away this letter, your other letter reached me, in which you describe the nuptials. You have certainly proved yourself a man of courage in having dared to approach Mathias, who does not easily suffer the word of admonition, much less that of rebuke. I rejoice, however, that it has been so well taken. Let us, therefore, be satisfied with this friendly expostulation, without pursuing the interest of the Church any farther. This example admonishes us, that in future nothing of a disorderly kind ought to be passed by. In so far as regards the man and wife, I would have you observe such moderation, that foolish as they are already, they may not become insane altogether. I know the pride, bitterness, and arrogance, of the woman. As for the monk, I believe that the solitary winter nights seemed to him too long to be spent at home. It is therefore to be feared lest for the sake of whiling away the time, he may betake himself elsewhere; for you are aware that this class of persons enjoy the privilege of gadding about. I have advertised Sturm, although, of his own accord, he was about to do what you ask. Therefore, that person whom you speak of, will receive a letter by Crato.

My very dear brother, adieu. In haste, as the messenger is wishing to get on horseback and away. Present my most friendly salutation to Sebastian and Enard, and all the others.—Yours,

Calvin.

[Lat. copy—Library of Geneva. Vol. 106.]