J
^ THE ^ O LIBRARIES q
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GENERAL LIBRARY
C CHINIQUY
FIFTY YEARS
IN THE
CHURCH OF ROME,
BY
FATHER CHINIQUY,
THE APOSTLE OF TEMPERANCE OF CANADA.
OF "THE MANUAL OF TEMPERANCE," "THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, AND THE CONFESSKMMI^I) "PAPAL IDOLATRY," "ROME AND EDUCATION," ETC.
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY,
New York. Chicago. Toronto.
PnblUhert «f Kvanplical Littrature.
73G
COPYRIGHT,
1 886,
BY REV. CHARLES CHINIQUY, ST. ANNE, KANKAKS i :0., Il^L.
Dedication.
TO COLONEL EDWIN fl. SHERMAN.
Allow me to mention your name the first among the many to whom I dedicate this book.
I owe this to you as a token of gratitude for your help in my researches after the true murderers of ovir martyred President Abraham Lincoln.
I found you as wise and honorable in your counsels as our country found you brave on the battlefields of Liberty.
TO THE ORANGEMEN OF THE UNITED STATES, CANADA,
GREAT BRITAIN, AUSTRALIA, TASMANIA
AND NEW ZEALAND,*
this book is also dedicated by the humblest of their brethren.
Orangemen ! Read this book: you will not only understand Roman- ism as you never did, but you will find many new reasons to be, more than ever, vigilant, fearless and devoted^ even to death, in the discharge of the sacred duties imposed upon you by your love for your country, your breth- ren and your God.
TO THE HONEST AND LIBERTY-LOVING PEOPLE 015* THE
UNITED STATES, I also dedicate this book.
Americans ! You are sleeping on a volcano, and you do not suspect it ! You are pressing on your bosom a viper which will bite you to death, and you do not know it.
Read this book, and you will see that Rome is the sworn, the most im- placable, the absolutely irreconcilable and deadly enemy of your schools, your institutions, your so dearly bought rights and liberties.
•*L, O. A. B. A. BoTNE L. O. L. No. 401.
Montreal, 20th Sept., 1S78. This is tb Ceftify that Bfo. C. Chihlauy was duly ihitiated into Boyne L. O. L. No. 401, and is a member in good standing, ana we do therefore request all Brethren to receive him as such, whereof witness our hand and seal hereto affixed.
Master No. 401.
John Hamilton, Secretary.
^ DEDICATION.
Read this book, ar:d you will not only understand that it is to Rome you owe the rivers of blood and the unspeakable horrors of the last civil war: but you will learn that Romanism and Liberty can not live on the same ground. This has been declared by the Popes, hundreds of times.
Read this book: And you will not only see that Abraham Lincoln was murdered by Rome, but you will learn that Romanism, under the mask of religion, is nothing but a permanent political conspiracy against all the most sacred rights of man and the most holy laws of God.
In those pages you will not learn to hate the Roman Catholics. No ! But you will learn to be more than ever watchful in guarding the precious treasures of Freedom bestowea upon you by your fathers. You will learn never to let them fall into the hands of those who, with the sacred name of Liberty on their lips, and the mask of Liberty on their faces, are sworn to lestroy all Liberty.
TO ALL THE FAITHFUL MINISTERS OF THE GOSPEL, I also, dedicate this book.
Venerable Ministers of the Gospel ! Rome is the great danger aheai for the Church of Christ, and you do not understand it enough.
The atmosphere of light, honesty, truth and holiness in which you an born, and which you have breathed since your infancy, makes it almost im Vossible for you to realize the dark mysteries of idolatry, immorality, degra- ding slavery, hatred of the Word of God, concealed behind the walls of that modern Babylon. You are too honest to suspect them ; and your precious \ime is too much taken up by the sacred duties of your ministry, to study the long labyrinth of argumentations which form the bulk of the greater num- ber of controversial books. Besides that, the majority of the books of con- troversy against Rome are of such a dry character that, though many begin to read them, very few have the courage to go to the end. The consequence \s an ignorance of Romanism which becomes more and more deplorable Und fatal, every day.
It is ignorance which paves the way to the triumph of Rome, in a near future, if there is not a complete change in your views, on that subject.
It is that ignorance which paralyzes the arm of the Church of Christ, and makes the glorious word " Protestant " senseless, almost a dead and ridicu- lous word. For who does really protest against Rome, to-day ? where axo those who sound the trumpet of alarm ?
When Rome is striking you to the heart by cursing your schools and wrenching the Bible from the hands of your children ; when she is not only battering your doors, but scaling your walls and storming your citadels, how few dare go to the breach and repulse the audacious and sacrilegious foe.?
Why so ? Because modern Protestants have not only forgotten what Rome was, what she is, and what she will forever be : the most irrecon*
FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME. 5
citable and powerful enemy of the Gospel of Christ ; but they consider her almost a branch of the church whose coxner-stone is Christ.
Faithful ministers of the Gospel ! I present you this book that you may know that the monster Church of Rome, who shed the blood of your fore- fathers, is still at work, to-day, at your very door, to enchain your people to the feet of her idols. Read it, and for the first time, you will see the inside life of Popery with the exactness of Photography. From the supreme art with which the mind of the young and timid child is fettered, en- chained and paralyzed, to the unspeakable degradation of the priest under the iron heel of the bishop, everything will be revealed to you as it has never been before.
The superstitions, the ridiculous and humiliating practices, the secret and mental agonies of the inonks, the nuns and the priests, will be shown to you as they were never shown before. In this book, the sophisms and errors of Romanism are discussed and refuted with a clearness, simplicity and evidence which my twenty-five years of priesthood only could teach me. It is not in boasting that I say this. There can be no boasting in me for hav- ing been so many years an abject slave of the Pope. The book I offer you is an arsenal filled with the best weapons you ever had to fight, and, with the help of God, conquer the foe.
The learned and zealous champion of Protestantism in Great Britain Rev. D. Badenoch, who has revised the manuscript, wrote to a friend: "I do not think there is a Protestant work more thrilling in interest and more important at the present time. It is not only full of incidents, but also of arguments, on the side of truth with all classes of Romanists, from the bishops to the parish priests. I know of no work which gives so graphically the springs of Roman Catholic life, and at the same time, meets the plausible objections to Protestantism in Roman Catholic circles. I wish with all my heart that this work would be published in Great Britain."
The venerable, learned and so well known Rev. Dr. Kemp, Principal of the Young Ladies' College of Ottawa, Canada, only a few days before his premature death, wrote: " Mr. Chinqiuy has submitted every chapter of his ' Fifty Years in the Church of Rome ' to me : I have read it with care and with the deepest interest ; and I commend it to the public favor in the high- est terms. It is the only book I know that gives anything like a full and authentic account of the inner workings of Popery on this continent, and so effectively unmasks its pretence to sanctity. Besides the moft interesting biographical incidents, it contains incisive refutations of the most plausible assumptions and deadly errors of the Romish Church. It is well fitted to awaken Protestants to the insidious designs of the arch-enemy of their faith and liberties, and to arouse them to a decisive opposition. It is written in a kindly and Christian spirit, does not indulge in denunciations, and, while speaking in truth, it does so in love. Its style is lively and its Englis'i good, with only a delicate flavor of the author's native French."
^ DBDICATION.
TO THE BISHOPS, PRIESTS AND PEOPLE OF ROME,
this book is also dedicated.
In the name of jour immortal souls, I ask you, Roman Catholics, to read this book.
By the mercy of God, you will find, in its pages, how you are cruelly deceived by your vain and lying traditions.
You will see that it is not through your ceremonies, masses, confessions, purgatory, indulgences, fastings, etc., you are saved. You have nothing to do but to believe, repent and love.
Salvation is a gift ! Eternal life is a gift ! Forgiveness of sin is a gift \ Christ is a gift !
Read this book, presented by the most devoted of your friends, and, by the mercy of God, you will see the errors of your ways — ^you will look to the GIFT — you will accept it — and in its possession you will feel rich and happy for time and eternity.
SPECIAL NOTICE
TO NEW EDITION.
Since the publication of the second edition of " Fifty Years in the Church of Rome," the incendiary torch of the foe has twice reduced into Ashes the electrotype plates, with many volumes already printed, and about to be delivered to subscribers.
Though those two disasters have completely ruined me financially, they have not discouraged me, for my trust was in God, and in Him alone. Relying on His divine and paternal protection, I offer this New Edition to my brethren, with the prayerful hope that the Good Master will bless it for His glory, and the good of His elect, wherever it may go.
I have no words to sufficiently bless the friends who have extended to me a helping hand to raise the book from its fiery grave ; and I can- not sufficiently thank the Press, both religious and secular, of Europe and America, for the kind appreciation given, almost everywhere, to my humble labor.
May this book, with the help of God, be the means of giving liberty to those who are held in the bondage of ignorance, superstition and idolatry, is the sincere desire of their friend,
C. CHINIQUY.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Frontispiece— Father Chiniquy,
" " " in Priest's Robes,
Festivities in a Parsonage, * 54
Grand Dinner of the Priests, aoc
Cardinal Newman, ^c
Fall of the « Holy Fathers,'* .-.-,. ^jg
Leo XIII., present Pope, -..-..,, 5^5
Abraham Lincoln, , gg^
Contents.
Title i
Dedicatiox 3-7
Preface to Third Edition 8
Chapter I. The Bible and the Priest of Rome t
Chapter II. My first school-days at St. Thomas— The Monk and Celibacy 14-21
Chapter III. The Confession of Children 23-yx
Chapter IV. The Shepherd whipped by his Sheep 3i-4^
Chapter V. The Priest, Purgatory, and the poor Widow's Cow 41-48
Chapter VI. Festivities in a Parsonage 49-5^
Chapter VII. Preparation for the First Communion — Initiation to Idolatry 57-^
Chapter VIII. The First Communion 61-65
Chapter IX. Intellectual Education in the Roman Catholic College 66-74
Chapter X. Moral and Religious Instruction in the Roman Catholic College*. 75-^5
X FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OP ROMS.
Chapter XI. Page.
Protestant Children in the Convents and Nunneries of Rome 86-93
Chapter XII. Rome and Education — Why does the Church of Rome hate the Common Schools of the United States, and wants to destroy them,? — Why does she object to the reading of the Bible in the Schools .'* 94-1 17
Chapter XIII. Theology of the Church of Rome: its Anti-Social and Anti-Chris- tian Character , 1 18-128
Chapter XIV. The Vow of Celibacy 129-140
Chapter XV. The Impurities of the Theology of Rome 141-153
Chapter XVI. The Priest of Rome and the Holy Fathers ; or, how I swore to give
up the Word of God to follow the word of Men , 154-162
Chapter XVII. The Roman Catholic Priesthood, or Ancient and Modern Idolatry, 163-172
Chapter XVIII. Nine Consequences of the Dogma of Transubstantiation — The old
Paganism under a Christian name 173-182
Chapter XIX. Vicarage, and Life at St. Charles, Rivierre Boyer 183-194
Chapter XX. Papineau and the Patriots in 1833 — The burning of " Le Canadien "
by the Curate of St. Charles 195-203
Chapter XXI. Grand Dinner of the Priests — The Maniac sister of Rev. Mr.
Perras ixi4'-2i5
I
CONTENTS. Xi
Chapter XXII. Page.
I am appointed Vicar of the Curate of Charlesbourgh — The Piety,
Lives and Deaths of Fathers Bedard and Perras 216-226
Chapter XXIII. The Cholera Morbus of 1834 — Admirable courage and self-denial
of the Priests of Rome during the epidemic 227-235
Chapter XXIV. I am named a Vicar of St. Roch, Quebec City — The Rev. Mr.
Tetu—Tertullian— General Cargo— Tha Seal Skins 236-241
Chapter XXV.
Simony — Strange and sacrilegious traffic in the so-called Body and Blood of Christ — Enormous sums of Money made by the sale of Masses — The Society of three Masses abolished and the Society of one Mass established 242-251
CrtAPTER XXVI. Continuation of the trade in Masses 252-060
Chapter XXVII.
Quebec Marine Hospital — The first time I carried the " Bon Dieu " (the wafer god) in my vest pocket — The Grand Oyster Soiree at Mr. Buteau's— The Rev. L. Parent and the " Bon Dieu " at the Oyster Soiree 261-267
Chapter XXVIII.
Dr. Douglas — My First Lesson on Temperance — Study of Anatomy — Working of Alcohol in the Human Frame — The Murderess of her own Child — I forever give up the use of Intoxicating Drinks 268-^82
Chapter XXIX.
Conversions of Protestants to the Church of Rome— Rev. Anthony Parent, Superior of the Seminary of Quebec: His peculiar way of finding access to the Protestants and bringing them to the Catholic Church — How he spies the Protestants through the Confessional — I persuade ninety-three Families to become Catholics 283-293
XU FIFTY Yi VRS IN THE CHURCH OF ROMS.
Chapter XXX. The Murders and Thefts in Quebec from 1835 to 1886 — The night Excursion with two Thieves— The Restitution— The Dawn of L^ght 394-303
Chapter XXXI. Chambers and his Accomplices Condemned to death — Asked me to prepare them for their terrible Fate — A week in their Dun- geon— Their Sentence of Death changed to Deportation to Botany Bay— Their Departure for exile— I meet one of them a sincere Convert, very rich, in a high and honorable position in Australia in 1878 304-313
Chapter XXXII. The Miracles of Rome— Attack of Typhoid Fever— Apparation of St. Anne and St. Philomene — My Sudden Cure — The Curate of St. Anne Du Nord, Mons. Ranvoise, almost a disguised Protestant 313-334
Chapter XXXIII.
My Nomination ao Curate of Beauport — Degradation and Ruin of that place through Drunkenness — My opposition to my nomi- nation useless — Preparation to Establish a Temperance Society — I write to Father Mathew for advice 335-343
Chapter XXXIV. The Hand of God in the establishment of a Temperance Society in
Beauport and Vicinity 343-3SO
Chapter XXXV. Foundation of Temperance Societies in the neighboring Parishes- Providential arrival of Monsignor De Forbin Janson, Bishop of Nancy — He publicly defends me against the Bishop of Quebec and forever breaks the opposition of the Clergy 351-359
Chapter XXXVI. The God of Rome eaten by Rats 360-367
Chapter XXXVII. Visit of a Protestant stranger — He throws an Arrow into my
Priestly Soul never to be taken out 368-37'
Chapter XXXVIII. Erection of the Column of Temperance — School Buildings — A
noble and touching act of the people at Beauport 374-383
CONTENTS. XUI
Chapter XXXIX. Sent to succeed Rev. Mr Varin, Curate of Kamouraska — Stem opposition of that Curate and the surrounding Priests and People — Hours of Desolation in Kamouraska — The good Mas- ter allays the Tempest, and bids the Waves be still 384-393
Chapter XL. Organization of Temperance Societies in Kamouraska and sur- rounding Country — The Girl in the Garb of a man in the ser- vice of the Curates of Quebec and Eboulements — Frightened by the Scandals seen everywhere — Give up my Parish of Kamouraska to join the " Oblates of Mary Immaculate of Longueuiel." 394--403
Chapter XLI. Perversions of Dr. Newman to the Church of Rome in the light of his own explanations, Common Sense and the Word of God 404-430
Chapter XLII. Noviciate in the Monastery of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate of Longueuiel — Some of the thousand Acts of Folly and Idolatry which form the life of a Monk — The Deplorable Fall of one of the Fathers — Fall of the Grand Vicar Quiblier — Sick in the Hotel Dieu of Montreal — Sister Urtubise, what she says of Maria Monk — The two Missionaries to the Lumbermen — Fall and Punishment of a Father Oblate — What one of the best Father Oblates thinks of the Monks and the Monastery 431-449
Chapter XLIII. I accept the hospitality of the Rev. Mr. Brassard of Longueuiel — I Give my reasons for leaving the Oblates to Bishop Bourget — He presents me with a splendid Crucifix blessed by his Holiness for me, and accepts my services in the cause of Temperance in the Diocese of Montreal 450-456
Chapter XLIV. Preparation for the last Conflict — Wise Counsel, Tears and Distress of Father Mathew — Longueuiel the first to accept the great re- form of Temperance — The whole District of Montreal, St. Hyacinthe and Three Rivers Conquered — The City of Montreal with the Sulpicians take the Pledge — Gold Medal — OflScially named Apostle of Temperance in Canada — Gift of £500 from Parliament 457-4^
5P1V FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
Chapter XX.V. My Sermon on rhe Virgin Mary — Compliments of Bishop Prin<:e — Stormy Night — First serious doubts about the Church oi Rome — Faithful discussion with the Bishop — The Holy Fath-- ers opposed to the modern Worsihip of the Virgin—The Branches of the Vine 470-483
Chapter XLVI. The Holy Fathers — New mental troubles at not finding the Doc- trines of my Church in their writings — Purgatory and the Sucking Pig of the Poor Man of Varennes , , . 484-496
Chapter XLVII.
Letter from the Rev. Bishop Vandeveld of Chicago — Vast project of the Bishop of the United States to take possession of the Rich Valley of the Mississippi and the Prairies of the West, to rule that Great Republic — They want to put me at the head of the Work — My Lecture on Temperance at Detroit — Intemperance of the Bishops and Priests of that City 497-505
Chapter XLVIII. My visit to Chicago in 1857 — Bishop Vandeveld — His Predecessor Poisoned — Magnificient Prairies of the West — Return to Cana- da— Bad Feelings of Bishop Bourget — I decline sending a rich Woman to the Nunnery to enrich the Bishop — A Plot to Des- troy me 506-521
Chapter XLIX. The Plot to Destroy me— The Interdict— The Retreat at the Jesuits' College — The Lost Girl, Employed by the Bishop, retracts — The Bishop Confounded, sees his Injustice, makes amends — Testimonial Letters — The Chalice — The Benediction before I leave Canada 522-534
Chapter L. Address presented me at Longueuil — I arrive at Chicago— I select the spot for my Colony — I build the first Chapel — Jealousy and Opposition of the Priests of Bourbonnais and Chicago — Great Success of the Colony , 535-541
Chapter LI. Intrigues, Impostures, and Criminal life of the Priests in Bourbon- nais— Indignation of the Bishop — The People ignominiously turn out the Criminal Priests from their Parish — Frightful Scandal — Faith in the Church of Rome seriously Shaken S4?-553
CONTENTS. rV
Chapter LII. Page
Correspondence with the Bishop •? 554-5^9
Chapter LIII. The Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary 570-579
Chapter LIV. The Abomination of Auricular Confession 580-602
Chapter LV.
The Ecclesiastical Retreat— Conduct of the Priests— The Bishop
Forbids me to Distribute the Bible 603-61C
Chapter LVI.
Public Acts of Simon V— Thefts and Brigandage of Bishop O'Regan —General Cry of' Indignation— I determine to resist him to his face— He employs Mr. Spink again to send me to Gaol, and he fails— Drags me as a Prisoner to Urbana in the Spring of 1856 and fails again— Abraham Lincoln defends me— My dear Bible becomes more than ever my Light and my Counselor 6i7-63f
Chapter LVII.
Bishop O'Regan sells the Parsonage of the French Canadians of Chicago, pockets the money, and turns them out when they come to complain — He determines to turn me out of my Colony and send me to Kahokia— He forgets it next day and publishes that he has Interdicted me— My People send a Depu- tation to the Bishop— His Answers— The Sham Excommuni- cation by three drunken Priests 630-643
Chapter LVIII.
Address from my People, asking me to remain— I am again dragged as a prisoner by the Sheriff to Urbana— Abraham Lincoln's anxiety about the issue of the Prosecution— My Distress— The Rescue— Miss Philomena Moffat sent by God to save me — LeBelle's Confession and Distress— My Innocence acknowl- edged—Noble Words and Conduct of Abraham Lincoln— The Oath of Miss Philomena Moffat 643-667
Chapter LIX.
A moment of Interruption in the Thread of my "Fifty Years in the Church of Rome," to see how my sad Previsions about my defender, Abraham Lincoln, were to be realized — Rome the Implacable Enemy of the United States 668-687
Chapter LX.
T>»e Fundamental Principals of the Constitution of the United States drawn from the Gospel of Christ— My first visit to Abraham Lincoln to warn him of the Plots I knew against his Life — The Priests circulate the news that Lincoln was born in the Church of Rome— Letter of the Pope to Jeff Davis— My last visit to the President — His admirable reference to Moses — His willingness to die for his Nation's Sake ,....-. 68^ l^
2
XVi FIFTY YBARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROMS*
Chapter LXI.
Abraham Lincoln a true man of God, and a true Disciple of the Gospel — The Assassination bv Booth — The tool of the Priests — ^John Surratt's house — The'Rendezvous and Dwelling Place of the Priests — ^John Surratt Secreted by the Priests after the murder of Lincoln — The Assassination of Lincoln known and published in the town three hours before its occurrence 711-736
Chapter LXII.
Deputation of two Priests sent bj the People and the Bishops of Canada to persuade us to submit to the will of the Bishop — The Deputies acknowledge publicly that the Bishop is wrong and that we are right — For peace sake, I consent to withdraw from the contest on certain conditions accepted by the Deputies — One of the Deputies turns false to his promise, and betrays us, to be put at the head of my Colony— My last inter- view with him and Mr. Brassard 736-750
Chapter LXIII.
Mr. Desaulnier is name Vicar General of Chicago to crush us
Our People more united than ever to defend their rights— Let- ters of the Bishops of Montreal against me, and my answer
Mr. Brassard forced, against his conscience, to condemn us —
My answer to Mr. Brassard — He writes to beg my pardon 751-773
Chapter LXIV. i" write to the Pope Pius IX, and to Napoleon, Emperor of France, and send them the Legal and Public Documents proving the bad conduct of Bishop O'Regan — Grand Vicar Dunn sent to tell me of my victory at Rome, and the end of our trouble— I go to Dubuque to offer my submission to the Bishop — The peace sealed and publicly proclaimed by Grand Vicar Dunn the 28th of March, 185S 774-783
Chapter LXV. Excellent testimonial from my Bishop — My Retreat — Grand Vicai Saurin and his assistant^ Rev. M. Granger — Grand Vicar Dunn writes me about the ne n storm prepared by the Jesuits — Vision — Christ offers Himse'i as a Gift — I am forgiven, rich, happy and saved — Back to xv.y People 784-809
Chapter LXVL The Solemn Responsibilities of my New Position— We give up the Name of Roman Catholic to call ourselves Christian Catholics — Dismay of the Roman Catholic Bishops — My Lord Duggan, Coadjutor of St. Louis, hrrried to Chicago — He comes to St. Anne to persuade the People to submit to his Authority — He is ignominiously turned out, and runs away in the midst of the Cries of the People 801-817
Chapter LXVII. Bird's-eye View of the Principal Events from my Conversion to this day— My Narrow Escapes— The end of the Voyage through the Desert to the Promised Land '. . , 818-833
Chapter I.
THE BIBLE AND THE PRIEST OF ROME.
MY father, Charles Chiniquy, born in Quebec, had studied in the Theological Seminary of that city, to prepare himself for the priesthood. But a few days before making his vows, having been the witness of a great iniquity in the high quarters of the church, he changed his mind, studied law and became a notary.
Married to Reine Perrault, daughter of Mitchel Perrault, in t8o8, he settled at first in Kamoraska, where I was born on the 30th July, 1809.
About four or five years later, my parents emigrated to Murray Bay. That place was then in its infancy, and no school had yet been established. My mother was, therefore, my first teacher.
Before leaving the Seminary of Quebec my father had received from one of the Superiors, as a token of his esteem, a beautiful French and Latin Bible. That Bible was the first book, after the A B C, in which I was taught to read. My mother selected the chapters which she considered the most interesting for me ; and I read them every day with the greatest attention and pleasure. I was even so much pleased with several chapters, that I read them over and over again till I knew them by heart.
When eight or nine years of age, I had learned by heart the history of the creation and the fall of man ; the deluge ; the sacrifice of Isaac; the history of Moses; the plagues of Egypt; the sublime hymn of Moses after crossing the Red Sea; the history of Samson ; the most interesting events of the life of David; several Psalms; all the speeches and parables of Christ?
lO FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
and the whole history of the sufferings and death of our Saviour as narrated by John.
I had two brothers, Louis and Achille; the first about four, the second about eight years younger than myself. When they were sleeping or playing together, how many delicious hours I have spent by my mother's side, in reading to her the sublime pages of the divine book.
Sometimes she interrupted me to see if I understood what 1 read; and when my answers had made her sure that I under- stood it, she used to kiss me and press me on her bosom as an expression of her joy.
One day, while I was reading the history of the sufferings of the Saviour, my young heart was so much impressed that I could hardly enunciate the words, and my voice trembled. My mother, perceiving my emotion, tried to say something on the love of Jesus for us, but she could not utter a word — her voice was suffocated by her sobs. She leaned her head on my forehead, and I felt two streams of tears falling from her eyes on my cheeks. I could not contain myself any longer. I wept also; and my tears were mixed with hers. The holy book fell from my hands, and I threw myself into my dear mother's arms.
No human words can express what was felt in her soul and in mine in that most blessed hour ! No ! I will never forget that solemn hour, when my mother's heart was perfectly blended with mine at the feet of our dying Saviour. There was a real perfume from heaven in those my mother's tears which were flowing on me. It seemed then, as it does seem to me to-day, that there was a celestial harmony in the sound of her voice and ■n her sobs. Though more than half a century has passed since that solemn hour when Jesus, for the first time, revealed to me something of His suffering and of His love, my heart leaps with joy every time I think of it.
We were some distance from the church, and the roads, ia the rainy days, were very bad. On the Sabbath days the neigh- boring farmers, unable to go to church, were accustomed to gather at our house in the evening. Then my parents used to put me up on a large table in the midst of the assembly, and ,.
THE BIBLE AND THE PRIEST OF ROME. jg
delivered to those good people the most beautiful parts of the Old and New Testaments. The breathless attention, the applause of our guests, and — may I tell it — often the tears of joy which my mother tried in vain to conceal, supported my strength and gave me the courage I wanted, to speak when so young before
00 many people. When my parents saw that I was growing tired, my mother, who had a fine voice, sang sorr^ of the beau- ful French hymns with which her memory was filled.
Several times, when the fine weather allowed me to go to church with my parents, the farmers would take me into their caleches (buggies) at the door of the temple, and request me to give them some chapter of the Gospel. With a most perfect attention they listened to the voice of the child, whom the Good Master had chosen to give them the bread which comes from heaven. More than once, I remember, that when the bell called us to the church, they expressed their regret that they could not hear more.
On one of the beautiful spring days of 1818, my father was writing in his office, and my mother was working with her needle, singing one of her favorite hymns, and I was at the door, playing and talking to a fine robin which I had so perfectly trained that he followed me wherever I went. All of a sudden
1 saw the priest coming near the gate. The sight of him sent a thrill of uneasiness through my whole frame. It was his first visit to our home.
The priest was a person below the common stature, and had an unpleasant appearance — his shoulders were large and he was very corpulent ; his hair was long and uncombed, and his double chin seemed to groan under the weight of his flabby cheeks.
I hastily ran to the door, and whispered to my parents, " M. le cure arrive" ("Mr. Curate is coming"). The last sound was hardly out of my lips, when the Rev. Mr. Courtois was at the door, and my father, shaking hands with him, gave him a welcome.
That priest was born in France, where he had a narrow escape, having been condemned to death under the bloody •dministration of Robespierre. He had found a refuge, with
ia FIltTY YEARS IN TH» CHTTRCH OP ftOM&.
many other French priests in England, whence he came to Quebec, and the bishop of that place had given him the charge of the parish of Murray Bay.
His conversation v^as animated and interesting for the first quarter of an hour. It v^as a real pleasure to hear him. But of a sudden his countenance changed as if a dark cloud had come over his mind, and he stopped talking. My parents had kept themselves on a respectful reserve vs^ith the priest. They seemed to have no other mind than to listen to him. The silence which followed was exceedingly unpleasant for all the parties. It looked like the heavy hour which precedes a storm. At length the priest, addressing my father, said, " Mr. Chiniquy, is it true that you and your child read the Bible ? "
" Yes, sir, " was the quick reply, " my little boy and I read the Bible, and what is still better, he has learned by heart a great number of its most interesting chapters. If you will allow it, Mr. Curate, he will give you some of them."
"I did not come for that purpose," abruptly replied the priest; "but do you not know that you are forbidden by the noly Council of Trent to read the Bible in French ? "
" It makes very little difference to me whether I read the Bible in French, Greek or Latin, " answered my father, " for I understand these languages equally well. "
" But are you ignorant of the fact that you cannot allow your child to read the Bible ? " replied the priest.
" My wife directs her own child in the reading of the Bible, and I cannot see that we commit any sin by continuing to do in future what we have done till now in that matter. "
" Mr. Chiniquy, " rejoined the priest, " you have gone through a whole course of theology ; you know the duties of a curate ; you know it is my painful duty to come here, get the Bible from you and burn it. "
My grandfather was a fearless Spanish sailor (our original name was Etchiniquia), and there was too much Spanish blood and pride in my father to hear such a sentence with patience in his own house. Quick as lightning he was on his feet. I pressed myself, trembling", near my mother, who trembled also.
THE BIBLE AND THE PRIEST OF ROME. •..
At first I feared lest some very unfortunate and violent scene should occur; for my father's anger at that moment w^as really terrible.
But there vs^as another thing vs^hich affected me. I feared lest the priest should lay his hands on my dear Bible, which was just before him on the table ; for it was mine, as it had been given to me the last year as a Christmas gift.
Fortunately, my father had subdued himself after the first moment of his anger. He was pacing the room with a double- quick step ; his lips were pale and trembling, and he was mutter- ing between his teeth words which were unintelligible to any one of us.
The priest was closely watching all my father's movements; his hands were convulsively pressing his heavy cane, and his face was giving the sure evidence of a too well-grounded terror. It was clear that the ambassador of Rome did not find himself in- fallibly sure of his position on the ground he had so foolishly chosen to take ; since his last words he had remained as silent as a tomb.
At last, after having paced the room for a considerable time, my father suddenly stopped before the priest, and said, " Sir, is that all you have to say here ? "
" Yes, sir, " said the trembling priest.
« Well, sir, " added my father, " you know the door by which you entered my house; please take the same door and go away quickly. "
The priest went out immediately. I felt an inexpressible joy when I saw that my Bible was safe. I ran to my father's neck, kissed and thanked him for his victory. And to pay him, in my childish way, I jumped upon the large table and recited, in my best style, the fight between David and Goliath. Of course, in my mind, my father was David and the priest of Rome was the giant whom the little stone from the brook had stricken down.
Thou knowest, O God, that it is to that Bible, read on my mother's knees, I owe, by thy infinite mercy, the knowledge of the truth to-day; that Bible had sent, to my young heart and intelligence, rays of light which all the sophisms and dark errors of Rome could never completely extinguish.
Chapter II.
arsr fibst sohool-days at st. thomas-the monk and
CELIBACY.
IN the month of June, 1818, my parents sent me to an excellent shool at St. Thomas. One of my mother's sisters resided there, who was the wife of an industrious miller, called Stephen Eschenbach. They had no children, and they received me as their own son.
The beautiful village of St. Thomas had already, at that time, a considerable population. The two fine rivers which unite their rapid waters in its very midst before they fall into the magnifi- cent basin from which they flow into the St. Lawrence, supplied the water-power for several mills and factories.
There was in the village a considerable trade in grain, flour and lumber. The fisheries were very profitable, and the game was abundant. Life was really pleasant and easy.
The families Tachez, Cazeault, Fournier, Dubord, Frechette, Tetu, Dupuis, Couillard, Duberges, which were among the most ancient and notable of Canada, were at the head of the intellec- tual and material movements of the place, and they were a real honor to the French Canadian name.
I met there with one of my ancestors on my mother's side whose name was F. Amour des Plaines. He was an old and brave soldier, and would sometimes show us the numerous wounds he had received in the battles in which he had fought for his country. Though nearly eighty years old, he sang to us the songs of the good old times with all the vivacity of a young man.
The school of Mr. Allen Jones, to which I had been sent, was worthy of its wide-spread reputation. I have never known
H
MY FIRST SCHOOL DAYS AT ST. THOMAS, ETC. l^
and teacher who deserved more, or who enjoyed In a higher degree, the respect and confidence of his pupils.
He was born in England, and belonged to one of the most respectable families there. He had received the best education which England could give to her sons. After having gone through a perfect course of study at home, he had gone to Paris, where he had also completed an academical course. He was perfectly master of the French and English languages. And it was not without good reasons that he was surrounded by a great number of scholars from every corner of Canada. The children of the best families of St. Thomas were with me, attending the school of Mr. Jones. But he was a Protestant, the priest was much opposed to him, and every effort was made by that priest to induce my relatives to take me away from that school and ^end me to one under his care.
The name of the priest was Loranger. He had a swarthy countenance, and in person was lean and tall. His preaching had no attraction, and he was far from being popular among the intelligent part of the people of St. Thomas.
Dr. Tachez, whose high capacity afterwards brought him to the head of the Canadian Government, was the leading man of St. Thomas. Being united by the bonds of a sincere friendship with- his nephew, L. Cazeault, who was afterward placed at the head of the University of Laval, in Quebec, I had many oppor- tunities of going to the house of Mr. Tachez, where my young friend was boarding.
In those days, Dr. Tachez had no need of the influence of the priests, and he frequently gave vent to his supreme contempt for them. Once a week there was a meeting in his house of the principal citizens of St. Thomas, where the highest questions of history and religion were freely and warmly discussed ; but the premises as well as the conclusion of these discussions were invariably adverse to the priests and religion of Rome, and too often to every form of Christianity.
Though these meetings had not entirely the character or exclusiveness of secret societies, they were secret to a great •xtent. Mv friend Cazeault was punctual in telling me the days
tff PIFTY YEARS IN Trtfi CttURCtt OF RGMS.
and hours of the meeting, and I used to go with him to An adjoining room, from which we could hear everything without being suspected. From what I heard and saw in these meetings, I most certainly would have been ruined, had not the Word of God, with which my mother had filled my young mind and heart, been my shield and strength. I was often struck with terror and filled wJth disgust at what I heard at those meetings. But what a strange and deplorable thing ! My conscience was condemning me every time I listened to these impious discussions, while there was a strong craving in me to hear them that I could not resist.
There was then in St. Thomas a personage who was unique in his character. He never mixed with the society of the village, but was, nevertheless, the object of much respectful attention and inquiry from every one. He was one of the former monks of Canada, known under the name of Capucin or Recollets, whom the conquest of Canada by Great Britain had forced to leave their monastery.
He was a clockmaker, and lived honorably by his trade. His little white house, in the very midst of the village, was the perfection of neatness.
Brother Mark, as he was called, was a remarkably well-built man; high stature, large and splendid shoulders, and the most beautiful hands I ever saw. His long black robe, tied around his waist by a white sash, was remarkable for its cleanliness. His life was really a solitary one, always alone with his own sister, who kept his house.
Every day that the weather was propitious. Brother Mark spent a couple of hours in fishing, and as I was myself exceed- ingly fond of that exercise, I used to meet him often along the banks of the beautiful rivers of St. Thomas.
His presence was always a good omen to me; for he was more expert than I in finding the best places for fishing. As soon as he found a place where the fish was abundant, he vs^ould make signs to me, or call me at the top of his voice that I might share in his good luck. I appreciated his delicate attention to me, and repaid him with the marks of a sincere gratitude. The good
^^ FmST SCHOOL-DAYS AT ST. THOMAS, ETC. I^
monk had entirely conquered my young heart, and I cherished a sincere regard for him. He often invited me to his soHtary but neat Httle home, and I never visited him without receiving some proofs of a sincere kindness. His good sister rivalled him in overwhelming me with such marks of attention and love as I could only expect from a dear mother.
There was a mixture of timidity and dignity in the maners of brother Mark which I have found in no one else. He was fond of children : and nothing could be more graceful than his smile every time that he could see that I appreciated his kindness, and that I gave him any proof of my gratitude. But that smile, •and any other expression of joy, were very transient. On a sudden he would change, and it was obvious that a mysterious cloud was passing over his heart.
The Pope had released the monks of the monastry to which he belonged, from their vows of poverty and obedience. The consequence was that they could become independant, and even rich, by their own industry. It was in their power to rise to a respectable position in the world by their honorable efforts. The pope had given them the permission they wanted, that they might earn an honest living. But what a sti'ange and incredible folly to ask the permission of a pope to be allowed to live honorably on the fruits of one's own industry !
These poor monks, having been released from their vows of obedience, were no longer the slaves of a man : but were now permitted to go to heaven on the sole condition that they would obey the laws of God and the laws of their country ! But into what a frightful abyss of degradation men must have fallen, to believe that they required a license from Rome for such a purpose. This is, nevertheless, the simple and naked truth. That excess oi folly, and that supreme impiety and degradation are among the fundamental dogmas of Rome. The inf alible pope assures the world that there is no possible salvation for any one who does not sincerely believe what he teaches in this matter.
But the pope who had so graciously relieved the Canadian monks from their vows of obedience and poverty, had been inflexible in reference to their vows of celibacy. From this
t8 fifty years in the church of ROME.
there was no relief.
The honest desires of the good monk to live according to the laws of God, with a wife whom heaven might have given him, had become an impossibility — the pope vetoed it.
The unfortunate monk was bound to believe that he would be forever damned if he dared to accept as a gospel truth the Word of God which says : —
Propter fornicationem antem, unusquisque uxorem suam habeat, unaquaque virum suum habeat. (Vulgate Bible of Rome.) Nevertheless to avoid fornication let every man have his own wife, and let every woman have her own husband." (i Cor., vii.: 2). That shining light which the Word contains and which gives life to man, was entirely shut out from brother Mark. He was not allowed to know that God himself had said, "It is not good that man should be alone, I will make him an help-meet for him," (Gen. 2: 18). Brother Mark was endowed with such a loving heart ! He could not be known without being loved; and he must have suffered much in that ceHbacy which his faith in the pope imposed upon him.
Far away from the regions of light, truth and life, that soul, tied to the feet of the implacable modern Divinity, which the Romanists worship under the name of Sovereign Pontiff, was trying in vain to annihilate and destroy the instincts and affections which God himself had implanted in him.
One day, as I was amusing myself, with a few other young friends, near the house of brother Mark, suddenly we saw something covered with blood thrown from the window, and falling at a short distance from us. At the same instant we heard loud cries, evidently coming from the monk's house: " O my God! Have mercy on me! Save me! I am lost!"
The sister of brother Mark rushed out of doors and cried to some men who were passing by; "Come to our help! My poor brother is dying! For God's sake make haste, he is losing all his blood ! "
I ran to the door, but the lady shut it abruptly and turned me out, saying, " we do not want children here."
I bad a sincere affection for the good brother. He had
MY FIRST SCHOOL-DAYS AT ST. THOMAS, ETC. 19
invariably been so kind to me ! I insisted and respectfully requested to be allowed to enter. Though young and weak, it seemed that my friendly feelings towards the suffering brother would add to my strength, and enable me to be of some service. But my request was sternly rejected, and I had to go back to the street among the crowd which was fast gathering. The singular mystery in which they were trying to wrap the poor monk, filled me with trouble and anxiety.
But that trouble was soon changed into an unspeakable confusion when I heard the convulsive laughing of the low people, and the shameful jokes of the crowd, after the doctor had told the nature of the wound which was causing the unfortunate man to bleed almost to death. I was struck with such horror that I fled away; I did not want to know any more of that tradegy. I had already known too much!
Poor brother Mark had ceased to be a man — he had become an eunuch.
0 cruel and Godless church of Rome! How many souls hast thou deceived and tortured! How many hearts hast thou broken with that cehbacy which Satan alone could invent ! This unfortunate victim of a most degrading religion, did not, however, die from his rash action ; he soon recovered his usual health.
Having, meanwhile, ceased to visit him ; some months later I was fishing along the river in a very solitary place. The fisli were abundant, and I was completely absorbed in catching them, when, on a sudden, I felt on my shoulder the gentle presure of a hand. It was brother Mark's.
1 thought I would faint through the opposite sentiments of surprise, of pain and joy, which at the same time crossed my mind.
With an affectionate and trembling voice he said to me, ''My dear child, why do you not come to see me any more ? "
I did not dare to look at him after he had addressed me these words. I liked him on account of his acts of kindness to me. But the fatal hour when, in the street before the door, I had suffered so much on his account — that fatal hour was on my
S6 PIIftY YEARS m THft CHURCH OP RO^fB.
heart as a mountain which I could not put away — I Could not answer him.
He then asked me again with the tone of a criminal who sues for mercy; " Why is it my dear child, that you do not come any longer to see me? You know that I love you."
" Dear brother Mark," I answered "I will never forget your kindness to me. I will forever be grateful to you; I wish that it would be in my power to continue, as formerly, to go and see you. But I cannot, and you ought to know the reason why I cannot."
I had pronounced these words with down-cast eyes. I was a child, with the timidity and happy ignorance of a child. But the action of that unfortunate man had struck me with such a horror that I could not entertain the idea of visiting him any more.
He spent two or three minutes without saying a word, and without moving. But I heard his sobs and his cries, and his cries were those of dispair and anguish, the like of which I have never heard since.
I could not contain myself any longer, I was suffocating with suppressed emotion, and I would have fallen insensible to the ground if two streams of tears had not burst from my eyes. Those tears did me good — they did him good also — they told him that I was still his friend.
He took me in his arms and pressed me to his bosom — his tears were mixed with mine. But I could not speak — the emotions of my heart were too much for my age. I sat on a damp and cold stone, in order not to faint. He fell on his knees by my side.
Ah ! if I were a painter I would make a most striking tableau of that scene. His eyes, swollen and red with weeping, were raised to heaven, his hand lifted up in the attitude of supplication; he was crying out with an accent which seemed as though it would break my heart.
" Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu que je suis malheureux."
My God! My God! what a wretched man I am! ♦ **♦ « *♦**#
MY FIRST SCHOOL-DAYS AT ST. THOMAS, ETC. 2 1
The twenty-five years that I have been a priest of Rome, have revealed to me the fact that the cries of desolation I heard that day, were but the echo of the cries of desolation which go out from almost every nunnery, every parsonage and every house where human beings are bound by the ties of the Romish Celibacy.
God knows that I am a faithful witness of what my eyes ^ave seen and my ears have heard, when I say to the multitudes which the Church of Rome has bewitched w^ith her enchant- ments. Wherever there are nuns, monks and priests who live in forced violation of the ways which God has appointed for man to walk in, there are torrents of tears, there are desolated hearts, there are cries of anguish and despair which say in the words of brother Mark:
"Oh! que je suis malheureux!"
Oh ! how miserable and wretched I am !
Chapter III.
THE CONFESSION OF CHILDBKN.
NO words can express to those who have never had any experience in the matter, the consternation, anxiety and shame of a poor Romish child, when he hears, for the first time, his priest saying from the pulpit, in a grave and solemn tone, •'This week, you will send your children to confession. Make them understand that this action is one of the most important of their lives, that for every one of them, it will decide their eternal happiness or misery. Fathers and mothers, if, through your fault, or his own, your child is guilty of a bad confession — if he conceals his sins and commences lying to the priest, who holds the place of God himself, this sin is often irreparable. The devil will take possession of his heart: he will become accustomed to lie to his father confessor, or rather to Jesus Christ, of whom he is a representative. His life will be a series of sacrileges; his death and eternity those of the reprobate. Teach him, therefore, to examine thoroughly his actions, words and thoughts, in order to confess without disguise."
I was in the church of St. Thomas when those words fell upon me like a thunderbolt.
I had often heard my mother say, when at home, and my aunt, since I had come to St. Thomas, that upon the first con- fession depended my eternal happiness or misery. That week was, therefore, to decide about my eternity.
Pale and dismayed, I left the church, and returned to the house of my relatives. I took my place at the table, but could not eat, so much was I troubled. I went to my room for the purpose of commencing my examination of conscience and to try to recall my sinful actions, words, and thoughts. Although
FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME. 23
scarcely over ten years of age, this task was really overwhelming for me. I knelt down to pray to the Virgin Mary for help; but I was so much taken up with the fear of forgetting something, and of making a bad confession, that I muttered my prayers without the least attention to what I said. It became still worse when I commenced counting my sins. My memory became confused, my head grew dizzy; my heart beat with a rapidity which exhausted me, and my brow was covered with perspiration. After a considerable length of time spent in these painful efforts, I felt bordering on despair, from the fear that it was impossible for me to remember everything. The night following was almost a sleepless one; and when sleep did come, it could scarcely be called a sleep, but a suffocating delirium. In a frightful dream, I felt as if I had been cast into hell, for not having confessed all my sins to the priest. In the morning, I awoke, fatigued and prostrated by the phantoms of that terrible night. In similar troubles of mind were passed three days which preceded my first confession. I had constantly before me the countenance of that stern priest who had never smiled upon me. He was present in my thoughts during the day, and in my dreams during the night, as the minister of an angry God, justly irritated against me on account of my sins. Forgiviness had indeed been promised to me, on condition of a good confession ; but my place had also been shown to me in hell, if my confession was not as near perfection as possible. Now, my troubled conscience told me that there were ninety-nine chances against one, that my confession would be bad, whether by my own fault I forgot some sins, or I was without that contrition of which I had heard so much, but the nature and effects of which were a perfect chaos to my mind.
Thus it was that the cruel and perfidious Church of Rome took away from my young heart the good and merciful Jesus, whose love and compassion had caused me to shed tears of joy when I was beside my mother. The Saviour whom that church made me to worship, through fear, was not the Saviour who called little children unto Him, to blesss them and take them in His arms. Her impious hands were soon to torture and defile my childish
24 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROMB.
heart, and place me at the feet of a pale and severe looking nnan — worthy representative of a pitiless God. I was made to tremble with teiTor at the footstool of an implacible divinity, while the gospel asked of me only tears of love and joy, shed at the feet of the incomparable Friend of sinners!
At length came the day of confession; or rather of judgment and condemnation. I presented myself to the priest.
Mr. Loranger was no longer priest of St. Thomas. He had been succeeded by Mr. Beaubien, who did not favor our school any more than his predecessor. He had even taken upon him- self to preach a sermon against the heretical school, by which we had been excessively wounded. His want of love for us, however, I must say, was fully reciprocated.
Mr. Beaubien had, then, the defect of lisping and stammering. This we often turned into ridicule, and one of my favorite amuse- ments was to imitate him, which brought bursts of laughter from us all.
It had been necessary for me to examine myself upon the number of times I had mocked him. This circumstance was not calculated to make my confession easier, or more agreeable.
At last the dreaded moment came. I knelt at the side of my confessor. My whole frame trembled. I repeated the prayer preparatory to confession, scarcely knowing what I said so mucn was I troubled with fear.
By the instructions which had been given us before confession, we had been made to believe that the priest was the true repre- sentative— yea, almost the personification of Jesus Christ. The consequence was, that I believed my greatest sin had been that of mocking the priest. Having always been told that it was ^est to confess the greatest sin first, I commenced thus: "Father . accuse myself of having mocked a priest."
Scarcely had I uttered these words, "mocked a priest," when this pretended representative of the humble Saviour, turning towards me, and looking in my face in order to know me better, asked abruptly, "What priest did you mock, my boy?" I would rather have chosen to cut out my tongue than to tell him to his face who it was. I therefore kept silent for a while. But my
THE CONFESSION OF CHILDREN. i5
silence made him very nervous and almost angry. With a haughty tone of voice he said, "What priest did you take the liberty of thus mocking?"
I saw that I had to answer. Happily his haughtiness had made me firmer and bolder. I said " Sir, you are the priest whom I mocked."
" But how many times did you take upon you to mock me, my boy?"
" I tried to find out," I answered, " but never could."
"You must tell me how many times; for to mock one's own priest is a great sin."
" It is impossible for me to give you the number of times," answered I.
" Well, my child, I will help your memory by askijag you questions. Tell me the truth. Do you think you have mocked me ten times?"
" A great many times more, sir."
^^ Fifty times?"
'* Many more still."
" A hundred times ? "
" Say five hundred times and perhaps more," answered I.
" Why, my boy, do you spend all your time in mocking me?"
" Not all ; but unfortunately I do it very often."
" Well may you say unfortunately ; for so to mock your priest, who holds the place of our Lord Jesus Christ, is a great misfortune, and a great sin for you. But tell me, my little boy, what reason have you for mocking me thus ? "
In my examinations of conscience I had not foreseen that I should be obliged to give the reasons for mocking the priest; and I was really thunderstruck by his questions. I dared not answer, and I remained for a long time dumb, from the shame that overpowered me. But with a harrassing perseverance the priest insisted on my telling why I had mocked him ; telling me that I should be damned if I did not tell the whole truth. So I decided to speak, and said, " I mocked you for several thing."
** What made you first mock me?" continued the priest
26 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
" I laughed at you because you lisped. Among the pupils of our school, it often happens that we imitate your preaching to excite laughter."
" Have you often done that ? "
" Almost every day, especially in our holidays, and since you preached against us."
" For what other reasons did you laugh at me, my little boy?"
For a long time I was silent. Every time I opened my mouth to speak courage failed me. However, the priest continuing to urge me, I said at last, " It is rumored in town that you love girls ; that you visit the Misses Richards every evening, and this often makes us laugh."
The poor priest was evidently overwhelmed by my answer, and ceased questioning me on this subject. Changing the con- versation, he said:
" What are your other sins? "
I began to confess them in the order in whice they came to my memory. But the feeling of shame which overpowered me in repeating all my sins to this man was a thousand times greater than that of having offended God. In reality this feeling of human shame which absorbed my thought — nay, my whole being — left no room for any religious feeling at all.
When I had confessed all the sins I could remember, the priest began to ask me the strangest questions on matters about which my pen must be silent. I replied, " Father, I do not understand what you ask me."
" I question you on the sixth commandment (seventh in the Bible). Confess all. You will go to hell, if through your fault you omit anything."
Thereupon he dragged my thoughts to regions which, thank God had hitherto been unknown to me.
I answered him : " I do not understand you," or " I have never done these things."
Then, skilfully shifting to some secondary matter, he would soon slyly and cunningly come back to his favorite subject, namely, sins of licentiousness.
His questions were so unclean that I blushed, and felt sick
CONFESSION OF CHILDREN. 2^
with disgust and shame. More than once I had been, to my regret, in the company of bad boys; but not one of them has offended my moral nature so much as this priest had done. Not one of them had ever approached the shadow of the things from which that man tore the veil, and which he placed before th© eye of my soul. In vain did I tell him that I was not guilty of such things; that I did not even understand what he asked me; he would not let me off. Like the vulture bent upon tearing the poor bird that falls into his claws, that cruel priest seemed determined to defile and ruin my heart.
At last he asked me a question in a form of expression so bad that I was really pained. I felt as if I had received a shock from an electric battery ; a feeling of horror made me shudder. I was so filled with indignation that, speaking loud enough to be heard by many, I told him: "Sir, I am very wicked; I have seen, heard and done many things which I regret; but I never was guilty of what you mention to me. My ears have never heard anything so wicked as what they have heard from your lips. Please do not ask me any more of those questions; do not teach me any more evil than I already know."
The remainder of my confession was short. The firmness of my voice had evidently frightened the priest, and made him blush. He stopped short and began to give me some good advice, which might have been useful to me if the deep wounds which his questions had inflicted upon my soul had not so absorbed my thoughts as to prevent me from giving attention to what he said.
He gave me a short penance and dismissed me.
I left the confessional irritated and confused. From the shame of what I had just heard from the mouth of that priest I dared not lift my eyes from the ground. I went into a retired corner of the church to do my penance ; that is, to recite the prayers he had indicated to me. I remained for a long time in church, I had need of a calm after the terrible trial through which I had just passed. But vainly I sought for rest. The shameful questions which had been asked me, the new world of niquity into which I had been introduced, the impure phantoms
28 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
bj which my childish heart had been defiled, confused and troubled my mind so strangely that I began to weep bitterly.
Why those tears ? Why that desolation ? I wept over my sins? Alas! I confess it with shame, my sins did not call forth those tears. And yet how many sins had I already committed, for which Jesus shed his precious blood. But I confess my sins were not the cause of my desolation. I was rather thinking of my mother, who had taken such good care of me, and who had so well succeeded in keeping away from my thoughts those impure forms of sin, the thoughts of which had just now defiled my heart. I said to myself. Ah! if my mother had heard those questions; if she could see the evil thoughts which overwhelm me at this moment — if she knew to what school she sent me when she advised me in her last letter to go to confession, how her tears would mingle with mine ! It seemed to me that my mother would love me no more — that she would see written upon my brow the pollution with which that priest had pro- faned my soul.
Perhaps the feeling of pride was what made me weep. Or perhaps I wept because of a remnant of that feeling of original .Ugnity whose traces had still been left in me. I felt so down- cast by the disappointment of being removed farther from the Saviour by that confessional which had promised to bring me nearer to Him. God only knows what was the depth of my sorrow at feeling myself more defiled and more guilty after than before my confession.
I left the church only when forced to do so by the shades of night, and came to my uncle's house with that feeling of uneasi- ness caused by the consciousness of having done a bad action, and by the fear of being discovered.
Though this uncle, as well as most of the principal citizens of the village of St. Thomas, had the name of being a Roman Catholic, yet he did not believe a word of the doctrines of the Roman Church. He laughed at the priests, their masses, their purgatory, and especially their confession. He did not conceal that when young, he had been scandalized by the words and actions of a priest in the confessional. He spoke to me jestingly.
THE CONFESSION OF CHILDREN. 2^
This increased my trouble and my grief. " Now," said he "you will be a good boy. But if you have heard as many new things as I did the first time I went to confess, you are a very learned boy ;" and he burst into laughter.
I blushed and remained silent. My aunt, who was a devoted Roman Catholic, said to me, " Your heart is relieved, is it not, since you confessed all your sins?" I gave her an evasive answer, but I could not conceal the sadness that overcame me. I thought I was the only one from whom the priest had asked those pointing questions. But great was my surprise, on the following day, when going to school I learned that my fellow pupils had not been happier than I had been. The only differ- ence was, that instead of being grieved, they laughed at it. "Did the priest ask you such and such questions ?" they would demand laughing boisterously. I refused to reply, and said, "Are you not ashamed to speak of these things?"
"Ah! ah! how very scrupulous you are," continued they. " If it is not a sin for the priest to speak to us on these matters, how can it be a sin for us?" I stopped, confounded, not know- ing what to say.
I soon perceived that even the young school girls had not been less polluted and scandalized by the questions of the priest than the boys. Although keeping at a distance, such as to prevent us from hearing all they said, I could understand enough to convince me that they had been asked about the same questions. Some of them appeared indignant, while others laughed heartily.
I should be misunderstood were it supposed that I mean to convey the idea that this priest was more to blame than others, or that he did more than fulfil the duties of his ministry in asking these questions. Such, however, was my opinion at the time, and I detested that man with all my heart until I knew better. I had been unjust towards him, for this priest had only done his duty. He was only obeying the Pope and his theologians. His being a priest of Rome was, therefore, less his crime than his misfortune. He was, as I have been myself, bound hand and foot at the feet of the greatest enemy that the holiness and truth of God have ever had on earth — the Pope.
30 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
The misfortune of Mr. Baubien, like that of all the priests of Rome, was that of having bound himself by terrible oaths not to think for himself, or to use the light of his own reason.
Many Roman Catholics, even many Protestants, refuse to believe this. It is, notwithstanding, a sad truth. The priest of Rome is an automaton — a machine which acts, thinks and speaks in matters of morals and of faith, only according to the order and the will of the Pope and his theologians.
Had Mr. Beaubien been left to himself, he was naturally too much of a gentleman to ask such questions. But no doubt he had read Liguori, Dens, Debreyne, authors approved by the Pope, and he was obliged to take darkness for light, and vice for virtue.
Chapter IV.
THE SHEPHERD WHIPPED BY HIS SHEEP.
SHORTLY after the trial of auricular confession, my young friend, Louis Cazeault, accosted me on a beautiful morning ^nd said, "Do you know what happened last night?"
" No," I answered. " What was the wonder?"
" You know that our priest spends almost all his evenings et Mr. Richards' house. Everybody thinks that he goes there for the sake of the two daughters. Well, in order to cure him of that disease, my uncle, Dr. Tache, and six others, masked, whipped him without mercy as he was coming back at eleven o'clock at night. It is already known by every one in the village, and they split their sides with laughing."
My first feeling on hearing that news, was one of joy. Ever since my first confession I felt angry every time I thought of that priest. His questions had so wounded me that I could not forgive him. I had enough of self-control, however, to conceal my pleasure and I answered my friend:
" You are telling me a wicked story ; I can't believe a word of it."
" Well," said young Cazeault, "come at eight o'clock this evening to my uncle's. A secret meeting is to take place then. No doubt they will speak of the pill given to the priest last night. We shall place ourselves in our little room as usual and shall hear everything, our presence not being suspected. You may be sure that it will be interesting."
" I will go," I answered, " but I do not believe a word of that story."
I went to school at the usual hour. Most of the pupils had preceeded me. Divided into groups of eight or ten, they were
31
32 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
engaged in a most lively conversation. Bursts of convulsive laughter vv^ere heard from every corner. I could very well see that something uncommon had taken place in the village.
I approached several of these groups, and all received me with the question:
" Do you know that the priest was whipped last night as he was coming from the Misses Richards' ?"
" That is a story invented for fun," said I.
" You were not there to see him, were you? You therefore know nothing about it; for if anybody had whipped the priest he would not surely boast of it."
" But we heard his screams," answered many voices.
"What! was he then screaming out?" I asked.
"He shouted at the top of his voice, 'Help, help! Murder!' "
"But you were surely mistaken about the voice," said I " It was not the priest who shouted, it was somebody else. I could never believe that anybody would whip a priest in such a crowded village."
" But" said several, "we ran to his help and we recognized the priest's voice. He is the only one who lisps in the village."
" And we saw him with our own eyes," said several.
The school bell put an end to this conversation. As soon as school was out I returned to the house of my relatives, not wishing to learn any more about this matter. Although I did not like this priest, yet T was much mortified by some remarks which the older pupils made about him.
But it was difficult not to hear any more. On my arrival home I found my uncle and aunt engaged in a very warm debate on the subject. My uncle wished to conceal the fact that he was among those who had whipped him. But he gave the details so precisely, he was so merry over the adventure, that it was easy to see that he had a hand in the plot. My aunt was indignant, and used the most energetic expressions to show her disapprobation.
That bitter debate annoyed me so that I did not stay long to hear it all. I withdrew to my stvidy.
During the remainder of the day I changed my resolutioo
THE SHEPHERD WHIPPED BY HIS SHEEP. 33
many times about my going to the secret meeting in the evening At one moment I would decide firmly not to go. My conscience told me that, as usual, things would \n uttered which it was not good for me to hear. I had refused to go to the two last meet- ings, and a silent voice, as it were, told me I had done well. Then a moment after I was tormented by the desire to know precisely what had taken place the evening before. The flagel- lation of a priest in the midst of a large village was a fact too worthy of note to fail to excite the curiosity of a child. Besides, my aversion to the priest, though I concealed it as well as I could, made me wish to know whether everything was true on the subject of the chastisement. But in the struggle between good and evil which took place in my mind during that day, the evil was finally to triumph. A quarter of an hour before the meeting my friend came to me and said:
«t Make haste, the members of the association are coming." At this call all my good resolutions vanished. I hushed the voice of my conscience, and a few minutes later I was placed in an angle of that little room, where for more than two hours I learned many strange and scandalous things about the lives of the p.iests of Canada.
Dr. Tache presided. He opened the meeting in a low tone of voice. At the beginning of his discourse I had some difficulty to understand what he said. He spoke as one who feared to be overheard when disclosing a secret to a friend. But after a few preliminary sentences he forgot the rule of prudence which he had imposed upon himself, and spoke with energy and
power.
Mr. Etienne Tache was naturally eloquent. He seemed to #peak on no question except under the influence of the deepest conviction of its truth. His speech was passionate, and the tone of his voice clear and agreeable. His short and cutting sentences did not reach the ear only; they penetrated even the secret folds of the soul. He spoke in substance as follows :
»t Gentlemen;— I am happy to see you here more numerously than ever. The grave events of last night have, no doubt, decided many of you to attend debates which some began to
34 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
forsake, but the importance of which, it seems to me, increases day by day.
" The question debated in our last meeting — ' The Priests ' — is one of Hfe and death, not only for our young and beautiful Canada, but in a moral point of view it is a question of life and death for our families, and for every one of us in particular.
"There is, I know, only one opinion among us on the subject of priests; and I am glad that this opinion is not only that of all educated men in Canada, but also of learned France; nay, of the whole world. The reign of the priest is the reign of ignorance, of corruption, and of the most barefaced immorality, under the mask of the most refined hypocrisy. The reign of the priest is the death of our schools; it is the degradation of our wives, the prostitution of our daughters; it is the reign of tyranny— the loss of liberty.
" We have only one good school, I will not say in St, Thomas* but in all our county. This school in our midst is a great honor to our village. Now see the energy with which all the priests who come here work for the closing of that school. They use every means to destroy that focus of light which we have started with so much difficulty, and which we support by j»o many sacrifices.
« With the priest of Rome our children do not belong to us ; he is their master. Let me explain. The priest honors us with the belief that the bodies, the flesh and bones of our children, are ours, and that our duty in consequence is to clothe and feed them. But the nobler and more sacred part, namely, the intellect, the heart, the soul, the priest claims as his own patrimony, his own property. The priest has the audacity to tell us that to him alone it belongs to enlighten tliose intelligences, to form those hearts, to fashion those souls as it may best suit him. He has the impudence to tell us that we are too silly or perverse to know our duties in this respect. We have not the right of choosing our school teachers. We have not the right to send a single ray of light into those intellects, or to give to those souls who hungei and thirst after truth a single crumb of that food prepared wi*^ 60 much wisdom and success by enlightened men of all ages*
THE SHEPHERD WHIPPED BY HIS SHEBP. 35
" By the confessional the priests poison the springs of life in our children. They initiate them into such mysteries of iniquity as would terrify old galley slaves. By their questions they reveal to them secrets of a corruption such as carries its germs of death into the very marrow of their bones, and that from the earliest years of their infancy. Before I was fifteen years old I had learned more real blackguardism from the mouth of my confessor than I have learned ever since in my studies and in my life as a physician for twenty years.
" A few days ago I questioned my little nephew, Louis Cazeault, upon what he had learned in his confession. He answered me ingenuously, and repeated things to me which I would be ashamed to utter in your presence, and which you, fathers of families, could not listen to without blushing. And just think, that not only of little boys are those questions asked, but also of our dear little girls. Are we not the most degraded of men if we do not set ourselves to work in order to break the iron yoke under which the priest keeps our dear country, and by means of which he keeps us, with our wives and children, at his feet like vile slaves!
"While speaking to you of the deleterious effect of the confessional upon our children, shall I forget its effect upon our wives and upon ourselves? Need I tell you that, for most women, the confessional is a rendezvous of coquetry and of love.^* Do you not feel as I do myself, that by means of the confessional the priest is more the master of the hearts of our wives than ourselves? Is not the priest the private and ^ ublic confidant of our wives? Do not our wives go invariably to the feet of the priest, opening to him what is most sacred and intimate in the secrets of our lives as husbands and as fathers? The husband belongs no more to his wife as her guide through the dark and difficult paths of life: it is the priest! We are no more their friends and natural advisers. Their anxieties and their cares they do not confide to us. They do not expect from us the remedies for the miseries of this life. Towards the priest they turn their thoughts and desires. He has their entire and exclusive confi- dence. In a word, it is the priest who is the real husband of our
36 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME-
wives! It is he who ha? the possession of their respect and of their hearts to a degree t) which no one of us need ever aspire!
"Were the priest ar-. angel, were he not made of flesh and bones just as we are, were not his organization absolutely the same as our own, then might we be indifferent to what might ^*ake place between him. and our wives, whom he has at his feet, fti his hands — even more, in his heart. But what does my experience tell me, not only as a physician, but also as a citizen of St. Thomas? What does yours tell you? Our experience tells us that the priest.^ instead of being stronger, is weaker than we generally are vv;th respect to women. His sham vows of perfect chastity, far from rendering him more invulnerable to the arrows of Cupid , expose him to be made more easily the victim of that god, so small in form, but so dreadful a giant by the irresistible power of his weapons and the extent of his conquests.
" As a matter of fact, of the last four priests who came to St. Thomas, have not three seduced many of the wives and daughters of our Piost respected families? And what security have we that the priest who is now with us does not walk in the same path? Is not the whole parish filled with indignation at the long nightly visits made by him to two girls whose dissolute morals are a seciet to nobody? And when the priest does not respect himself, would we not be silly in continuing to give him that respect of which he himself knows he is unv^orthy?
*'At our last meeting the opinions were divided at the beginning of the discussion. Many thought it would be well to speak to the bishop about the scandal caused by those nightly visits. But the majority judged that such steps would be useless, since the bishop would do one of two things, namely, he would either pay no attention to our just complaints, as has often been the case, or he would remove this priest, filling his place with one who would do no better. That majority, which became a unanimity, acceded to my thought of taking justice into our own hands. The priest is our servant. We pay him a large tithe. We have therefore claims upon him. He has abused us, and does so every day by his public neglect of the most elementary
THE SHKPMHRD WHIPPED BY HIS SHEEP. 37
laws of morality. In visiting every night that houst whose degradation is known to everybody^ he gives to y\^uth an example of perversity the effects of which no one can estimate.
" It had been unanimously decided that he should be whipped. Without my telling you by whom it was done, you may be assured that Mr. Beaubien's flagellation of last night will never be forgotten by him !
" Heaven grant that this brotherly correction be a lesson to teach all the priests of Canada that their golden reign is over, that the eyes of the people are opened, and that their domination is drawing to an end! "
This discourse was listened to with deep silence, and Dr. Tache saw by the applause that followed that his speech had been the expression of everyone.
Next followed a gentleman named Dubord, who in substance spoke as follows :
"Mr. President: — I was not among those who gave the priest the expression of public feeling with the energetic tongue of the whip. I wish I had been, however; I would heartily have co-operated in giving that lesson to the priests of Canada, Let me give my reason.
"My daughter, who is twelve years old, went to confession as did the others a few weeks ago. It was against my will. I know by my own experience that of all actions confession is the most degrading in a person's life. I can imagine nothing so well calculated to destroy for ever one's self-respect as the modern invention of the confessional. Now, what is a person without self-respect — especially a woman? Without this all is lost to her forever.
" In the confessional everything is corruption of the lowest grade.
" In the confessional, a girl's thoughts are polluted, her tongue is polluted, her heart is polluted — yes, and forever pol- luted! Do I need to teil you this? You know it as well as I do. Though you are now all too intelligent to degrade your- selves at the feet of a priest, though it is long since you have been guilty of that meanness, not one of you have forgotten the 4
38 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
lessons of corruption received, when young, in the confessional. Those lessons were engraved on your memory, your thoughts, your hearts, and your souls like the scar left by the red-hot iron upon the brow of the slave, to remain a perpetual witness of his shame and servitude. The confessional is a place where one gets accustomed to hear, and repeat without a scruple, things which would cause even a prostitute to blush !
" Why are Roman Catholic nations inferior to nations belonging to Protestantism? Only in the confessional can the solution of that problem be found. And why are Roman Catholic nations degraded in proportion to their submission to the priest? It is because the oftener the individuals composing those nations go to confession the more rapidly they sink in the scale of intelligence and morality. A terrible example of this I had in my own house.
*' As I said a moment ago, I was against my daughter going to confession; but her poor mother, who is under the control of the priest, earnestly wanted her to go. Not to have a disagree' able scene in my house, I had to yield to the tears of my wife.
*' On the day following that of her confession they believed I was absent; but I was in my office, with the door sufficiently open to allow me to hear what was said. My wife and daughter had the following conversation :
" ' What makes you so thoughtful and sad, my dear Lucy, since you went to confession? It seems to me you should feel happier since you had the privilege of confessing your sins.*
" Lucy made no answer.
" After a silence of two or three minutes her mother said:
"'Why do you weep, dear child? Are you ill?'
" Still no answer from the child.
"You may well suppose that I was all attention. I had my suspicions about the dreadful ordeal which had taken place. My heart throbbed with uneasiness and anger.
" After a short time my wife spoke to her child with suffi- cient firmness to force her to answer. In a trembling voice and half suppressed with sobs my dear little daughter answered:
" ' Ah ! mamma, if you knew what the priest asked me, H^d
THE SHEPHERD WHIPPED BY HIS SHEEP. 39
what he said to me in the confessional, you would be as sad as I am/
« ' But what did he say to you ? He is a holy man. You surely did not understand him if you think he said anything to pain you.'
" ' Dear mother,' as she threw herself into her mother's arms, 'do not ask me to confess what that priest said! He told to me things so shameful that I cannot repeat them. But that which pains me most is the impossibility of banishing from my thoughts the hateful things which he has taught me. His impure words are like the leeches put upon the chest of my friend Louise — they could not be removed without tearing the flesh. What must have been his opinion of me to ask such questions ! ' "
" My child said no more, and began to sob again. "After a short silence my wife rejoined:
"'I'll go to the priest. I'll tell him to beware how he speaks in the confessional. I have noticed myself that he goes too far with his questions. I, however, thought that he was more prudent with children. After the lesson that I'll give him be sure that you will have only to tell your sins, and that you will be no more troubled by his endless questions. I ask of you, however, never to speak of this to anybody, especially never let your poor father know anything about it; for he has little enough religion already, and this would leave him without any at all.' "
"I could contain myself no longer. I rose and abruptly entered the parlor. My daughter threw herself, weeping, into my arms. My wife screamed with terror, and almost fell into a swoon. I said to my child:
" If you love me, put your hand on my heart and promise me that you'll never go to confession again. Fear God, my child; walk in His presence, for His eye seeth you everywhere. Remember that day and night He is ready to forgive us. Never place yourself again at the feet of a 'priest to be defiled and deg'"2ded by him!
** This my daughter promised me.
40 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
** When my wife had recovered from her surprise I said to her:
" Madam, for a long time the priest has been everything and your husband nothing to you. There is a hidden and terrible power. that governs your thoughts and affections as it governs your deeds — it is the power of the priest. This you have often denied ; but providence has decided to-day that this power should be forever broken for you and for me. I want to be the ruler in my own house; and from this moment the power of the priest over you must cease, unless you prefer to leave my house forever. The priest has reigned here too long! But now that T know he has stained and defiled the soul of my daughter, his empire must fall ! Whenever you go and take your heart and secrets to the feet of the priest, be so kind as not to come back to the same house with me."
Three other discourses followed that of Mr. Dubord, all of which were pregnant with details and facts going to prove that the confessional was the principal cause of the deplorable demoralization of St. Thomas.
If, in addition to all that, I could have mentioned before that association what I already knew of the corrupting influences of that institution given to the world by centuries of darkness, certainly the determination of its members to make use of every means to abolish its usage would have been strengthened.
Chapter V.
THB PBIEST, PTJUaATORY, AND THE FOOB WIDOW'S OOW.
THE day following that of the meeting at which Mr. Tache had given his reasons for boasting that he had whipf)ed the priest, I wrote to my mother: " For God's sake, come for m' ; i can stay here no longer. If you knew what my ey^ h^ye seen and my ears have heard for some time past, you would not delay your coming a single day."
Indeed, such was the impression left upon me by that flagel- lation, and by the speeches which I had heard, that had it not been for the crossing of the St. Lawrence, I would have started for Murray Bay on the day after the secret meeting at which i had heard things that so terribly frightened me. How 1 regretted the happy and peaceful days spent with my mother in reading the beautiful chapters of the Bible, so well chosen by her to instruct and interest me! What a difference there was between our conversations after these readings, and the conver- sations I heard at St. Thomas!
Happily my parents' desire to see me again was as great as mine to go back to them. So that a few weeks later my mother came for me. She pressed me to her heart, and brought me back to the arms of my father.
I arrived at home on the il^_oU^» J^.?i5 ^^^ spent the afternoon and evening till late by my father's side. With what pleasure did he see me working difficult problems in algebra, and even in geometry ! for under my teacher, Mr. Jones, I had really made rapid progress in those branches. More than once I noticed tears of joy in my father's eyes when, taking my slate, he saw that my calculations were correct. He also examined me in grammar. "What an admirable teacher this Mr. Jones
♦»
42 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
must be," he would say, " to have advanced a child so much ini the short space of fourteen months!"
How sweet to me, but how short, were those hours of happi- ness passed between my good mother and my father! We had family worship. I read the fifteenth chapter of Luke, the return of the prodigal son. My mother then sang a hymn of joy and gratitude, and I went to bed with my heart full of happiness to take the sweetest sleep of my life. But, O God ! what an awful awakening thou hadst prepared for me !
At about four o'clock in the morning heart-rending screams fell upon my ear. I recognized my mother's voice.
" What is the matter, dear mother ? "
**Oh, my dear child, you have no more a father! He is dead!"
In saying these words she lost consciousness and fell on the floor!
While a friend who had passed the night with us gave her proper care, I hastened to my father's bed. I pressed him to my heart, I kissed him, I covered him with my tears, I moved his head, I pressed his hands, I tried to lift him up on his pillow; I could not believe that he was dead! It seemed to me that even if dead he would come back to life — that God could not thus take my father away from me at the very moment when I had come back to him after so long an absence! I knelt to pray to God for the life of my father. But my tears and cries were useless. He was dead! He was already cold as ice!
Two days after he was buried. My mother was so over- whelmed with grief that she could not follow the funeral procession. I remained with her as her only earthly support. Poor mother! How many tears thou hast shed! What sobs came from thine afflicted heart in those days of supreme grief!
Though I was then very young, I could understand the greatness of our loss, and I mingled my tears with those of my mother.
What pen can portray what takes place in the heart of a woman when God takes suddenly her husband away in the
THE PRIEST, PURGATORY, ETC. 43
prime of his life, and leaves her alone, plunged in misery, with three small children, two of whom are even too young to know their loss! How long are the hours of the day for the poor widow who is left alone, and without means, among strangers! How painful the sleepless night to the heart which has lost everything! How empty a house is left by the eternal absence of him who was its master, support, and father! Every object in the house and every step she takes remind her of her loss and sinks the sword deeper which pierces her heart. Oh, how bitter are the tears which flow from her eyes when her youngest child, who as yet does not understand the mj'stery of death, throws himself into her arms and says: "Mamma, where is papa? Why does he not come back? I am lonely!"
My poor mother passed through those heart-rending trials. I heard her sobs during the long hours of the day, and also during the longer hours of the night. Many times I have seen her fall upon her knees to implore God to be merciful to her and to her three unhappy orphans. I could do nothing then to comfort her, but love her, pray and weep with lier!
Only a few days had elapsed after the burial of my father when I saw Mr. Courtois, the parish priest, coming to our house (he who had tried to take away our Bible from us). He had the reputation of being rich, and as we were poor and unhappy since my father's death, my first thought was that he had come to comfort and to help us. I could see that my mother had the same hopes. She welcomed him as an angel from heaven. The least gleam of hope is so sweet to one who is unhappy !
From his very first words, however, T could see that our hopes were not to be realized. He tried to be sympathetic, and even said something about the confidenee that we should have in God, especially in times of trial; but his words were cold Hnd dry.
Turning to me, he said ;
" Do you continue to read the Bible, my little boy ? "
" Yes, sir," answered I, with a voice trembling with anxiety, for I feared that he would make another effort to take away that treasure, and I had no longer a father to defend it.
44 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
Then addressing my mother, he said:
« Madam, I told you that it was not right for you or y*»ur child to read that book."
My mother cast down her eyes, and answered only by the tears which ran down her cheeks.
That question was followed by a long silence, and the priest then continued:
" Madam, there is something due for the prayers which have been sung, and the services which you requested to be offered for the repose of your husband's soul. I will be very much obliged to you if you pay me that little debt."
" Mr. Courtois," answered my mother, « my husband left me nothing but debts. I have only the work of my own hands to procure a living for my three children, the eldest of whom is before you. For these little orphans' sake, if not for mine, do not take from us the little that is left."
" But, madam, you do not reflect. Your husband died suddenly and without any preparation; he is therefore in the flames of purgatory. If you want him to be delivered, you must necessarily unite your personal sacrifices to the prayers of the Church and the masses which we offer."
" As I said, my husband has left me absolutely without naeans, and it is impossible for me to give j^ou any money," replied my mother.
" But, madam, your husband was for a long time the only notary of Mai Buy. He surely must have made much money. I can scarcely think that he has left you without any means to help him now that his desolation and sufferings are far greater than yours."
" My husband did, indeed, coin much money, but he spent still more. Thanks to God, we have not been in want while he lived. But lately he got this house built, and what is still due on it makes me fear that I will lose it. He also bought a piece of land not long ago, only half of which is paid, and I will, therefore, probabl}^ not be able to keep it. Hence I may soon, with my poor orphans, be deprived of everything that is left us. In the meantime I hope, sir, that you are not a man to take away from us our last piece of bread."
THE PRIEST, PURGATORY, ETC. 45
" But, madam, the masses offered for the rest of your hus- band's soul must be paid," answered the priest.
My mother covered her face with her handkerchief and wept.
As for me, I did not mingle my tears with hers this time. My feelings were not those of grief, but of anger and unspeak- able horror. My eyes were fixed on the face of that m-^n who tortured my mother's heart. I looked with tearless eyes upon the man who added to my poor mother's anguish, and made her weep more bitterly than ever. My hands were clenched, as if ready to strike. All my muscles trembled ; my teeth chattered as if from intense cold. My greatest sorrow was my weakness in the presence of that big man, and my not being able to send him away from our house, and driving him far away from my mother.
I felt inclined to say to him : " Are you not ashamed, you ^ho are so rich, to come and take away the last piece of bread from our mouths?" But my physical and moral strength were not sufficient to accomplish the task before me, and I was filled with regret and disappointment.
After a long silence, my mother raised her eyes, reddened with tears, on the priest, and said :
" Sir, you see that cow in the meadow, not far from our house? Her milk and the butter made from it form the princi- pal part of my children's food. I hope you will not take her away from us. If, however, such a sacrifice must be made to deliver my poor husband's soul from purgatory, take her as payment of the masses to be offered to extinguish those devour- ing flames."
The priest instantly arose, saying, " Very well, madam," and went out.
Our eyes anxiously followed him; but instead of walking towards the little gate which was in front of the house, he directed his steps towards the meadow, and drove the cow before him in the direction of his home.
At that sight I screamed with despair: " O, my mother! he L taking our cow away! What will become of us?"
46 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
Lord Nairn had given us that splendid cow when it was three months old. Her mother had been brought from Scotland, and belonged to one of the best breeds of that country. I fed her with my own hands, and had often shared my bread with her. I loved her as a child always loves an animal which he has brought up himself. She seemed to understand and love me also. From whatever distance she could see me, she would run to me to receive my caresses, and whatever else I might have to give her. My mother herself milked her; and her rich milk was such delicious and substantial food for us. We all felt so happy, at breakfast and supper, each with a cupful of that pure and refreshing milk!
My mother also cried out with grief as she saw the priest taking away the only means which heaven had left her to feed her children.
Throwing myself mto her arms, I asked her: "Why have you given away our cow? What will become of us? We shall surely die of hunger."
" Dear child," she answered, " I did not think the priest would be so cruel as to take away the last resource which God had left us. Ah! if I had believed him to be so unmerciful I would never have spoken to him as I did. As you say, my dear child, what will become of us ? But have you not often read to me in your Bible that God is the Father of the widow and the orphan? We shall pray to that God who is willing to be your father and mine. He will listen to us, and see our tears. Let us kneel down and ask of Him to be merciful to us, and to give us back the support of which the priest has deprived us."
We both knelt down. She took my right hand with her left, and, lifting the other hand towards heaven, she offered a prayer to the God of mercies for her poor children such as I have never since heard. Her words were often choked by her sobs. But when she could not speak with her voice, she spoke with her burning looks raised to heaven, and with her uplifted hand. I also prayed to God with her, and repeated h^r words, which were broken by my sobs.
THE PRIEST, PURGATORY, ETC. 4^>
When her prayer was ended she remahied for a long time pale and trembling. Cold sweat was flowing on her face, and she fell on the floor. I thought she was going to die. I ran for cold water, which I gave her, saying: " Dear mother! O, do not leave me alone upon earth!" After drinking a few drops she felt better, and taking my hand, she put it to her trembling lips; then drawing me near her, and pressing me to her bosom, she said; " Dear child, if ever you become a priest, I ask of you never to be so hard-hearted towards poor widows as are the priests oj to-day^"* While she said these words, I felt her ourning tears falling upon my cheek.
The memory of these tears has never left me. I felt them constantly during the twenty-five years I spent in preaching the mconceivable superstitions of Rome.
I was not better, naturally, than many of the other priests. I believed, as they did, the impious fables of purgatory; and as well as they (I confess it to my shame), if I refused to take, err if I gave back the money of the poor, I accepted the money which the rich gave me for the masses I said to extinguish the flames of that fabulous place. But the remembrance of my mother's words and tears has kept me from being so cruel and unmerciful towards the poor widows as Romish priests are, for the most part, obliged to be.
When my heart, depraved by the false and impious doctrines *)f Rome, was tempted to take money from widows and orphans, under fretence of my long prayers^ I then heard the voice of my mother, from the depth of her sepulchre, saying: " My dear child, do not be cruel towards poor widows and orphans, as are the priests of to-day." If, during the days of my priesthood at Quebec, at Beauport and Kamouraska, I have given almost all that I had to feed and clothe the poor, especially the widows and orphans, it was not owing to my being better than others, but it was because my mother had spoken to me with words never to be forgotten. The Lord, I believe, had put into my mother's mouth those words, so simple but so full of eloquence and beauty, as one of His great mercies towards me. Those tears the hand of Rome has never been able to wipe oflP;
4§ FIFTY YfiAKS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
those words of my mother the sophisms of Popery could not make me forget.
How long, O Lord, shall that insolent enemy of the gospel, the Church of Rome, be permitted to fatten herself upon the tears of the widow and of the orphan by means of that cruel and impious invention of paganism — purgatory ? Wilt thou not be merciful unto <:/.> many nations which are still the victims of that great imposture? Oh, do remove the veil which covers the eyes of the priests and people of Rome, as thou hast removed it from mine! Make them to understand that their hopes of purification must not rest on these fabulous fires, but only on the blood of the Lamb shed on Calvary to save the world.
Chapter VI.
FESTIVITIES IN A PARSONAGE.
GO?3 had heard the poor widow's prayer. A few days after the priest had taken our cow she received a letter from each of her two sisters, Genevieve and Catherine.
The former, who was married to Etienne Eschenbach, of Si. Thomas, told her to sell all she had and come, with her children, to live with her.
" We have no family," she said, " and God has given us the good things of this life in abundance. We shall be happy to share them with you and your children.''
The latter, married in Kamouraska to the Hon. Amable Dioime, wrote: "We have learned the sad news of your hus- band's death. We have lately lost our only son. We wish to fill the vacant place with Charles, your eldest. Send him to us. We shall bring him up as our own child, and before long he will be your support. In the meantime, sell by auction all you have, and go to St. Thomas with your two younger children. There Genevieve and myself will supply your wants."
In a few days all our furniture was sold. Unfortunately, though I had carefully concealed my cherished Bible, it dis- appeared. I could never discover what became of it. Had mother herself, frightened by the threats of the priest, relin- quished that treasure ? or had some of our relatives, believing it to be their duty, destroyed it.^ I do not know. I deeply felt that loss, which was then irreparable to me.
On the following day, in the midst of bitter tears and sobs, I bade farewell to my poor mother and young brothers. They went to St. Thomas on board a schooner, and I crossed in a sloop to Kamouraska.
50 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
My uncle and aunt Dionne welcomed me with every mark of the most sincere affection. Having soon made known to them that I wished to become a priest, I began to study Latin under the direction of Rev. Mr. Morin, vicar of Kamouraska. That priest was esteemed to be a learned man. He was about forty or fifty years old, and had been priest of a parish in the district of Montreal. But, as is the case with the majority of priests, his vows of celibacy had not proved a sufficient guarantee against the charms of one of his beautiful parishioners. This had caused a great scandal. He consequently lost his position, and the bishop had sent him to Kamouraska, where his past conduct was not so generally known. He was very good to me, and I soon loved him with sincere affection.
One day, about the beginning of the year 1822, he called me aside and said :
"Mr. Varin (the parish priest) is in the habit of giving a great festival on his birthday. Now, the principal citizens of the village wish on that occasion to present him with a bouquet. I am a pointed to write an address, and to choose some one to deliver it before the priest. You are the one whom I have chosen. What do you think of it? "
"But I am very young," I replied.
" Your youth will only give more interest to what we wish to say and do," said the priest.
" Well, I have no objection to do so, provided the piece be kot too long, and that I have it sufficiently soon to learn it well."
It was already prepared. The time of delivering it soon came. The best society of Kamouraska, composed of about fifteen gentlemen and as many ladies, were assembled in the beautiful parlors of the parsonage. Mr. Varin was in their midst. Suddenly Squire Paschal Tache, the seigneur of the parish, and his lady entered the room, holding me by each hand, and placed me in the midst of the guests. My head was crowned with flowers, for I was to represent the angel of the parish, whom the people had chosen to give to their pastor the expression of public admiration and gratitude. When the address was finished, I presented to the priest the beautiful
FESTIVITIES IN A PARSONAGE. 5I
bouquet of symbolical flowers prepared by the ladies for the occasion.
Mr. Varin was a small but well-built man. His thin lips were ever ready to smile graciously. The remarkable whiteness of his skin was still heightened by the rose color of his cheeks. Intelligence and goodness beamed from his expressive black eyes. Nothing could be more amiable and gracious than his conversation during the first quarter of an hour passed in his company. He was passionately fond of these little fetes, and the charm of his manners could not be surpassed as the host of the evening.
He was moved to tears before hearing half of the address, and the eyes of many were moistened when the pastor, with a voice trembling and full of emotion, expressed his joy and grati- tude at being so highly appreciated by his parishioners.
As soon as the happy pastor had expressed his thanks, the ladies sang two or three beautiful songs. The door of the dining-room was then opened, and we could see a long table laden with the most delicious meats and wines that Canada could afford.
I had never before been present at a priest's dinner. The honorable position given me at that little fete permitted me to see it in all its details, and nothing could equal the curiosity with which I sought to hear and see all that was said and done by the joyous guests.
Besides Mr. Varin and his vicar there were three other priests, who were artistically placed in the midst of the most beautiful ladies of the company. The ladies, after honoring us with their presence for an hour or so, left the table and retired to the drawing-room. Scarcely had the last lady disappeared when Mr. Varin rose and said:
"Gentlemen, let us drink to the health of these amiable ladies^ whose presence has thrown so many charms over the first part of our little fete."
Following the example of Mr. Varin, each guest filled and emptied his long wine-glass in honor of the ladies.
Squire Tache then proposed " The health of the most vener-
52 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
able and beloved priest of Canada, the Rev. Mr. Varin." Again the glasses were filled and emptied, except mine; for I had been placed at the side of my uncle Dionne, who, sternly looking at me as soon as I had emptied my first glass, said : " If you drink another I will send you from the table. A little boy like you should not drink, but only touch the glass with his lips."
It would have been difficult to count the healths which were drank after the ladies had left us. After each health a song or a story was called for, several of which were followed by applause, shouts of joy, and convulsive laughter.
When my turn to propose a health came I wished to be excused, but they would not exempt me. So I had to say about whose health I was most interested. I rose upon my two short legs, and turning to Mr. Varin, I said, "Let us drink to the health of our Holy Father, the Pope.""
Nobody had yet thought of our Holy Father, the Pope, and the name, mentioned under such circumstances by a child, appeared so droll to the priests and their merry guests that they burst into laughter, stamped their feet and shouted, "Bravo! bravo! To the health of the Pope!" Everyone stood up, and at the invi- tation of Mr. Varin, the glasses were filled and emptied as usual.
So many healths could not be drunk without their natural effect — intoxication. The first that was overcome was a priest, Noel by name. He was a tall man, and a great drinker. I had noticed more than once, that instead of taking his wine-glass he drank from a large tumbler. The first symptoms of his intoxi- cation, instead of drawing sympathy from his friends, only increased their noisy bursts of laughter. He endeavored to take a bottle to fill his glass, but his hand shook, and the bottle, falling on the floor, was broken to pieces. Wishing to keep up his merriment he began to sing a Bacchic song, but could not finish. He dropped his head on the table, quite overcome, and trying to rise, he fell heavily upon his chair. While all this took place the other priests and all the guests looked at him, laughing loudly. At last, making a desperate effort, he rose, but after taking two or three steps, fell headlong on the floor. His two neighbors went to help him, but they were not in a
FESTIVITIES IN A PARSONAGE. ^3
condition to help him. Twice they rolled with him under the table. At length another, less affected by the fumes of wine, took him by the feet and dragged him into an adjoining room, where they left him.
This first scene seemed strange enough to me, for I had never before seen a priest intoxicated. But what astonished me most was the laughter of the other priests over that spectacle. Another scene, however, soon followed which made me sadder. My young companion and friend, Achilles Tache, had not been warned, as I had, only to touch the wine with his lips. More than once he had emptied his glass. He also rolled upon the floor before the eyes of his father, who was too full of wine to help him. He cried aloud, " I am choking! " I tried to lift him up, but I was not strong enough. I ran for his mother. She came, iccompanied by another lad}', but the vicar had carried him into another room, where he fell asleep after having thrown off the wine he had taken.
Poor Achilles! he was learning, in the house of his own priest, to take the first step of that life of debauchery and drunkenness which twelve or fifteen years later was to rob him of his manor, take from him his wife and children, and to make him fall a victim to the bloody hand of a murderer upon the solitary shores of Kamouraska !
This first and sad experience which I made of the real and intimate life of the Roman Catholic priest was so deeply engraved on my memory that I still remember with shame the bacchic song which that priest Morin had taught me, and which I sang on that occasion. It commenced with these Latin words:
Ego in arte Bacchi,
Multum profeei
Decies pintum vini Hodie bibi.
I ^Iso remember one sung by Mr. Varin. Here it is:
Savez-vous pourquoi, mes amis, (bis) Nous sommes tous si rejouis? {bis)
Amis n'endoutez pas,
C'est qu'un repas N'est bon.
54 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROMK.
Qu' apprete sans faSon, Mangeons a la gamelle. Vive le son, vive le son, Mangeons a la gamelle, Vive le son du flacon!
WTien the priests and their friends had sung, laughed and drank for more than an hour, Mr. Varin roste and said: "The ladies must not be left alone all the evening. Will not our joy and happiness be doubled if they are pleased to share them with us?"
This proposition was received with applause, and we passed into the drawing-room, wliere the ladies awaited us.
Several pieces of music, well executed, gave new life to thi? part of the entertainment. This resource, however, was soon exhausted. Besides, some of the ladies could well see that their husbands were half drunk, and they felt ashamed. Madam Tache could not conceal the grief she felt, caused by what had happened to her dear Achilles. Had she some presentiment, as many persons have, of the tears which she was to shed one day on his account? Was the vision of a mutilated and bloody corpse — the corpse of her own drunken son fallen dead, under the blow of an assassin's dagger, before her eyes?
Mr. Varin feared nothing more than an interruption in those hours of lively pleasure, of which his life was full, and which took place in his parsonage.
" Well, well, ladies and gentlemen, let us entertain no dark thoughts on this evening, the happiest of my* life! Let us play blind man's buff."
" Let us play blind man's buff ! " was repeated by everybody.
On hearing this noise, the gentlemen who were half asleep by the fumes of wine seemed to awaken as if from a long dream. Young gentlemen clapped their hands; ladies, young and old, congratulated one another on the happy idea.
"But whose eyes shall be covered first?" asked the priest,
" Yours, Mr. Varin," cried all the ladies. "We look to you for the good example, and we shall follow it."
"The power and unanimity of the jury by which I am
FESTIVITIES IN A PARSONAGE. 55
condemned cannot be resisted. I feel that there is no appeal. I must submit."
Immediately one of the ladies placed her nicely perfumed handkerchief over the eyes of her priest, took him by the hand, led him to an angle of the room, and having pushed him gently with her delicate hand, said: « Mr. Blindman! Let everyone flee! Woe to him w^ho is caught!"
There is nothing more curious and comical than to sec a man Viralk v^hen he is under the influence of wine, especially if he wishes nobody to notice it. How stiff and straight he keeps his legs! How learned and complicated, in order to keep his equilibrium, are his motions to right and left! Such was the position of priest Varin. He was not vety drunk. Though he had taken a large quantity of wine, he did not fall. He carried with wonderful courage the weight with which he was laden. The wine which he had drank would have intoxicated three ordinary men ; but such was his capacity for drinking, that ht could still walk without falling. However, his condition was sadly betrayed by each step he took and by each word he spoke, Nothing, therefore, was more comical than the first steps of the poor priest in his efforts to lay hold of somebody in order to pass his band to him. He would take one forward and two backward steps, and would then stagger to the right and to the left. Everybody laughed to tears. One after another they would all either pinch him or touch him gently on his hand, arm or shoulder, and passing rapidly off would exclaim, "Run away!" The priest went to the right and then to the left, threw his arms^ suddenly now here and then there. His legs evidently bent under their burden; he panted, perspired, coughed, and everyone began to fear that the trial might be carried too far, and beyond propriety. But suddenly, by a happy turn he caught the arm of a lady who in teasing him had come too near. In vain the lady tries to escape. She struggles, turns round, but the priest's hand holds her firmly.
While holding his victim with his right hand he wishes to touch her head with his left, in order to know and name the pretty bird he had caught. But at that moment his legs gave
56 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
way. He falls, and drags with him his beautiful parishionei^ She turns upon him in order to escape, but he soon turns on her in order to hold her better !
All this, though the affair of a moment, was long enough to cause the ladies to blush and cover their faces. Never in all my life did I see anything so shameful as that scene. This ended the game. Everyone felt ashamed. I make a mistake when I say everyone^ because the men were almost all too intoxicated to blush. The priests also were either too drunk or too much accustomed to such scenes to be ashamed.
On the following day every one of those priests celebrated mass, and ate what they called the body and blood, the soul and divinity of Jesus Christ, just as if they had spent the previous evening in prayer and meditation on the laws of God! He, Mr. Varin, was the arch-priest of the important part of the diocese of Quebec from La Riviere Quelle to Gaspe.
Thus, O perfidious Church of Rome, thou deceivest the aations who follow thecj and ruinest even the priests whom thou Tiakest thy slaves.
Chapter VII.
PREPARATION FOR THE FIRST COMMUNION-INITIATION TO IDOLATRY.
NOTHING can exceed the care with which Roman Catholic priests prepare children for their first communion. Two and three months are set apart every year for that purpose. All that time the children between ten and twelve years of age are obliged to go to church almost every day, not only to learn by heart their catechism, but to hear the explanations of all its teachings.
The priest who instructed us was the Rev. Mr. Morin, whom I have already mentioned. He was exceedingly kind to childrenj and we respected and loved him sincerely. His instructions to us were somewhat long; but w^e liked to hear him, for he always had some new and interesting stories to give us.
The catechism taught as a preparation for our first com- munion was the foundation of the idolatries and superstitions which the Church of Rome gives as the religion of Christ. It is by means of that catechetical instruction that she obtains for the Pope and his representatives that profound respect, I might say adoration, which is the secret of her power and influence. With this catechism Rome corrupts the most sacred truths of the gospel. It is there that Jesus is removed from the hearts for which he paid so great a price, and that Mary is put in his place. But the great iniquity of substituting Mary for Jesus is so skillfully concealed, it is given with colors so poetic and beautiful, and so well adapted to captivate human nature, that it is almost impossible for a poor child to escape the snare.
One day the priest said to me, " Stand up, my child, in order
57
58 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
to answer the many important questions *.vhich I have to ask you."
I stood up.
" My child," he said, " when you had been guilty of some fault at home, who was the first to punish you — your father, or your mother?"
After a few moments hesitation I answered, " My father."
« You have answered correctly, my child," said the priest. ^ As a matter of fact, the father is almost always more impatient with his children, and more ready to punish them, than the mother."
" Now, my child, tell us who punished you most severely — your father or your mother? "
" My father," I said, without hesitation.
"Still true, my child. The superior goodness of a kind mother is perceived even in the act of correction. Her blows are lighter than those of the father. Further, when you had deserved to be chastised, did not one sometimes come between you and your father's rod, taking it away from him and pacify- ing him ? "
" Yes," I said ; " mother did that very often, and saved me from severe punishment more than once."
"That is so, my child, not only for you, but f(,r all your companions here. Have not your good mothers, my children, often saved you from your fathers' corrections even when you deserved it? Answer me."
" Yes, sir," they all answered.
" One question more. When your father was coming to whip you, did you not throw yourself into the arms of some one to escape ? "
"Yes, sir; when guilty of something, more than once, I threw myself into my mother's arms as soon as I saw my father coming to whip me. She begged pardon for me, and pleaded so well that I often escaped punishment."
" You have answered well," said the priest. Then turning to the children, he continued:
" You have a Father and a Mother in heaven, dear children.
PREPARATION FOR THE FIRST COMMUNION. 55 1
Your father is Jesus, and your mother is Mary. Do not forge that a mother's heart is always more tender and more prone t< mercy than that of a father.
*' Often you offend your Father by your sins; you make Hin angry against you. What takes place in heaven then? You Father in heaven takes His rod to punish you. He threatens t( crush you down with His roaring thunder; He opens the gate; of hell to cast you into it, and you would have been damne< long ago had it not been for the loving Mother whom you hav( in heaven, who has disarmed your angry and irritated Father. When Jesus would punish you as you deserve, the good Virgiii Mary hastens to Him and pacifies Him. She places herseli" between Him and you, and prevents Him. from smiting you* She speaks in your favor, she asks for your pardon and she obtains it.
'^ Also, as young Chiniquy has told you, he often threw him- self into the arms of his mother to escape punishment. She took his part, and pleaded so well that his father yielded and put away the rod. Thus, my children, when your conscience tells you that you are guilty, that Jesus is angry against you and that you have good reason to fear hell, hasten to Mary ! Throw yourselves into the arms of that good mother; have recourse to her sovereign power over Jesus, and be assured that you will be saved through her!"
It is thus that the Pope and the priests of Rome have entirely disfigured and changed the holy religion of the gospel! In the Church of Rome it is not Jesus, but Mary, who repre- sents the infinite love and mercy of God for the sinner. The sinner is not advised or directed to place his hope in Jesus, but in Mary, for his escape from deserved chastisement! It is not Jesus, but Mary, who saves the sinner! Jesus is always bent on punishing sinners; Mary is always merciful to them!
The Church of Rome has thus fallen into idolatry: she rather trusts in Mary than in Jesus. She constantly invites sinners to turn their thoughts, their hopes, their affections, not to Jesus, but to Mary !
By means of that impious doctrine Rome deceives the intei=
6o FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
lects, seduces the hearts, and destroys the souls of the young forever. Under the pretext of honoring the Virgin Mary, she insults her by outraging and misrepresenting her adorable Son. Rome has brought back the idolatry of old paganism under a new name. She has replaced upon her altars the Jupiter Tonans of the Greeks and Romans, only she places upon his shoulders the mantle and she writes on the forehead of her idol the name of Jesus, in o^der the better to deceive the world!
Chapter VIII.
THE FIRST COMMUNION.
FOR the Roman Catholic child, how beautiful and yet how sad is the day of his first communion! How many joys and anxieties by turn rise in his soul when for the first time he is about to eat w4iat he has been taught to believe to be his God! How many efforts he has to make, in order to destroy the mani- fest teachings of his own rational faculties! I confess with deep regret that I had almost destroyed my reason, in order to prepare myself for my first communion. Yes, I was almost exhausted when the day came that I had to eat what the priest had assured us was the true body, the true blood, soul and divinity of Jesus Christ. I was about to eat him, not in a symbolical or com- memorative, but in a literal way. I was to eat his flesh, his bones, his hands, his feet, his head, his whole body! I had to believe this or be cast forever into hell, while, all the time, my eyes, my hands, my mouth, my tongue, my reason told me that what I was eating was only bread!
Has there ever been, or will there ever be, a priest or a layman to believe what the Church of Rome teaches on this dreadful m.ystery of the Real Presence? Shall I say that I believed in the real presence of Jesus Christ in the communion? I believed in it as all those who are good Roman Catholics believe. I believed as a perfect idiot or a corpse believes. Whatever is essential to a reasonable act of faith had been destroyed in me on that point, as it is destroyed in every priest and layman in the Church of Rome. My reason as well as my external senses had been, as much as possible, sacrificed at the feet of that terrible modern god, the Pope! I had been guilty of the incredibly foolish act, of which all good Roman Catholics
62 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
are guilty — I had said to my intellectual faculties, and to all my senses, "Hush, you are liars! I had believed to this day that you had been given to me by God in order to enable me to walk in the dark paths of life, but, behold! the holy Pope teaches me that you are only instruments of the devil to deceive me!"
What is a man who resigns his intellectual liberty, and who cares not to belie/s in the testimony of his senses? Is he not acting the part of one who has no gift or power of intelligence? A good Roman Catholic must reach that point! That was my own condition on the day of my first communion.
When Jesus said, " If I had not come and spoken unto them they had not had sin; but now they have no cloak for their sins: if I had not done among them the works that none other man did, they had not had sin; but now have they both seen and hated both me and my Father" (John xv. 22-24), ^^ showed that the sin of the Jews consisted in not having believed in what their eyes had seen and their ears had heard. But behold, the Pope says to Roman Catholics that they must not believe in what their hands undoubtedly handle and their eyes most clearly see! The Pope sets aside the testimony most approved by Jesus. The very witnesses invoked by the son of God are ignominiously turned out of court by the Pope as false witnesses!
As the moment of taking the communion drew near, two feelings were at war in my mind, each struggling for victory^ I rejoiced in the thought that I would soon have full possession of Jesus Christ, but at the same time I was troubled and humbled by the absurdity which I had to believe before receiv- ing that sacrament. Though scarcely twelve years old, I had sufficiently accustomed myself to reflect on the profound dark- ness which covered that dogma. I had been also greatly in the habit of trusting my eyes, and I thought that I could easily distinguish between a small piece of bread and a full-grown man!
Besides, I extremely abhorred the idea of eating human flesh and drinking human blood, even when they assured me that they were the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ himself. But
THE FIRST COM?, -JN.
^3
what troubled me most was the idea of that God, who was represented to me as being so great, so glorious, so holy, bein§ eaten by me like a piece of common bread! Terrible then was the struggle in my young heart, where joy and dread, trust and fear, faith and unbelief by turns had the upper hand.
While that secret struggle, known only to God and to myself, was going on, I had often to wipe off the cold perspira- tion which came on my brow. With all the strength of my soul I prayed to God and the Holy Virgin to be merciful unto me, to help, and give me sufficient strength and light to pass over these hours of anguish.
The Church of Rome is evidently the most skillful human machine the world has ever seen. Those who guide her in the dark paths which she follows are often men of deep thought. They under-tand how difficult it would be to get calm, honest and thinkin linds to receive that monstrous dogma of the real corporal pr, ^nce of Jesus Christ in the communion. They well foresaw the struggle which would take place even in the minds of children at the supreme moment when they would have to sacrifice their reason on the altar of Rome. In order to prevent those struggles, always so dangerous to the Church, nothing has bee .. neglected to distract the mind and draw the attention to otner subjects than that of the communion itself.
First, at the request of the parish priest, helped by the vanity of the parents themselves, the children are dressed as elegantly as possible. The young communicant is clothed in every way best calculated to flatter his own vanity also. The church building is pompously decorated. The charms of choice vocal and instrumental music form a part of the fete. The most odorous incense burns around the altar and ascends in a sweet- smelling cloud towards heaven. The whole parish is invited, and people come from every direction to enjoy a most beautiful spectacle. Priests from the neighboring churches are called, in order to add to the solemnity of the day. The officiating priest is dressed in the most costly attire. This is the day on which silver and gold altar-cloths are displayed before the eyes of the wondering soectators. Often a Hghted wax taper is placed in
©4 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
the hand of each young communicant, which itself would bfc sufficient to draw his whole attention; for a single false motion would be enough to set fire to the clothes of his neighbor, or his own, a misfortune which has happened more than once in my presence.
Now, in the midst of that new and wonderful spectacle; of singing Latin psalms, not a word of which he understands; in view of gold and silver ornaments, which glitter everywhere before his dazzled eyes; busy with the holding of the lighted taper, which keeps him constantly in fear of being burned alive, can the young communicant think for a moment of what he is about to do?
Poor child! his mind, ears, eyes, nostrils are so much taken up with those new, striking and wonderful things that, while his imagination is wandering from one object to another, the moment of communion arrives, without leaving him time to think of what he is about to do! He opens his mouth, and the priest puts upon his tongue a flat thin cake of unleavened bread, which either firmly sticks to his palate or otherwise melts in his mouth, soon to go down into his stomach just like the food he takes three times a day !
The first feeling of the child, then, is that of surprise at the thought that the Creator of heaven and earth, the upholder of the universe, the Saviour of the world, could so easily pass down his throat!
Now, follow those children to their homes after that great and monstrous comedy. See their gait! Listen to their conver- sation and their bursts of laughter! Study their manners, their coming in, their going out, their glances of satisfaction on their fine clothes, and the vanity which they manifest in return for the congratulations they receive on their fine dresses. Notice the lightness of their actions and conversation immediately after their communion, and tell me if you find anything indicating that they believed in the terrible dogma they have been taught!
No, they have not believed in it, neither will they ever do so with the firmness of faith which is accompanied by intelligence. The poor chLld thinks he believes, and he sincerely tries to do
THE FIRST COMMUNION. 65
SO. He believes in it as much as it is possible to believe in a most monstrous and ridiculous story, opposed to the simplest notions of truth and common sense. He believes as Roman Catholics believe. He believes as an idiot believes!! He believes as a corpse believes!
That first communion has made of him, for the rest of his life, a real machine in the hands of the Pope. It is the first but most powerful link of that long chain of slavery vv^hich the priest and the Church pass around his neck. The Pope holds the end of that chain, and with it he will make his victim go right or left at his pleasure, in the same way that we govern the lower animals. If those children have made a good first com- munion they will be submissive to the Pope, according to the energetic word of Loyola. They will be in the hands oi the Supreme Pontiff of Rome just what the stick is in the hand of the traveller — they will have no will, no thought of their own!
And if God does not work a miracle to bring them out from the bondage which is a thousand times worse than the Egyptian, they will remain in that state during the rest of their lives.
My soul has known the weight of those chains. It has felt the ignominy of that slavery! But the great Conqueror of souls has cast down a merciful eye upon me. He has broken my chains, and with His holy Word He has made me free.
May His name be forever blessed!
Chapter IX.
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION IN THE ROMAN CATHOLIC
COLLEGE.
I FINISHED, at the College of Nicolet, in the month of August, 1829, my classical course of study which I had beo^un in 1822. I could easily have learned in three or four years what was taught in those seven years.
It took us three years to study Latin grammar, when twelve months would have sufficed for all we learned of it. It is true that during that time we were taught some of the rudi- ments of the French grammar, with the elements of arithmetic and geography. But all this was so superficial, that our teachers often seemed more desirous to pass away our time than to en- large our understandings.
I can say the same thing about the Belles Lettres and of rhetoric, which we studied two years. A year of earnest study would have sufficed to learn what was taught us during these twenty- four months. As for the two years devoted to the study of logic, and of the subjects classed under the name of philo- sophy, it would not have been too long a time if those questions of philosophy had been honestly given us. But the student in the college of the Church of Rome is condemned to the torments of Tantalus. He has indeed the refreshing waters of Science put to his lips, but he is constantly prevented from tasting them. To enlarge and seriously cultivate the intelliv gence in a Roman Catholic college is a thing absolutely out ot the question. More than that, all the efforts of the principals in their colleges and convents tend to prove to the pupil that his intelligence is his greatest and most dangerous enemy — that it is like an untamable animal, which must constantly be kept in
66
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION, ETC. SJ
chains. Every day the scholar is told that his reason was not given him that he might be guided by it, but only that he may know the hand of the man by whom he must be guided. And that hand is none other than the Pope's. All the resources of language, all the most ingenious sophisms, all the passages of both the Fathers and the Holy Scriptures bearing on this question are arranged and perverted with inconceivable art to demonstrate to the pupil that his reason has no power to teach him anything else than that it must be subjected to the Supreme Pontiff of Rome, who is the only foundation of truth and light given by God to guide the intelligence and to enlighten and save the world.
Rome, in her colleges and convents, brings up, or raises up^ the youth from their earliest years; but to what height does she permit the young man or woman to be raised? Never higher than the feet of the Pope! ! As soon as his intelligence, guided by the Jesuit, has ascended to the feet of the Pope, it must remain there, prostrate itself and fall asleep.
The Pope! That is the great object towards which all the intelligence of the Roman Catholics must be converged. Tt is the sun of the world, the foundation and the only support of Christian knowledge and civilization.
What a privilege it is to be lazy, stupid and sluggish in a college of Rome! How soon such an one gets to the summit of science, and becomes master of all knowledge ! One needs only to kiss the feet of the Pope, and fall into a perfect slumber there. The Pope thinks for him! It is he (the Pope) who will tell him what he can and should think, and what he can and should believe!
I had arrived at that degree of perfection at the end of my studies, and J. B. Barthe, Esq., M. P. P., being editor of one of the principal papers of Montreal in 1844, could write in his paper when my " Manual of Temperance " was published: " Mr. Chiniquy has crowned his apostleship of temperance by that work, with that ardent and holy ambition of character of which he gave us so many tokens in his collegiate life, where we have been so many years the witness of his piety when he was the model of 6
68 FIFTY i^EARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
his fellow students, who had called him the Louis de Gonzague of Nicolet."
These words of the Montreal member of Parliament mean only that, wishing to be saved as St. Louis de Gonzague, I had blindly tied myself to the feet of my superiors. I had, as much as possible, extinguished all the enlightenments of my, own mind to follow the reason and the will of my superiors. These compliments mean that I was walking like a blind man whom his guide holds by the hand.
Though my intelligence often revolted against the fables with which I was nurtured, I yet forced myself to accept them as gospel truths ; and though I often rebelled against the ridicu- lous sophisms which were babbled to me as the only principles of truth and Christian philosophy, yet as often did I impose silence on my reason, and force it to submit to the falsehoods which I was obliged to take for God's truth ! But, as I have just confessed it, notwithstanding my good will to submit to my superiors, there were times of terrible struggle in my soul, when all the powers of my mind seemed to revolt againt the degrada- ing fetters which I was forced to forge for myself.
I shall never forget the day when, in the following terms, I expressed to my Professor in Philosophy, the Rev. Charles Harper, doubts which I had conceived concerning the absolute necesvsity of the inferior to submit his reason to his superior. "When I shall have completely bound myself to obey my superior, if he abuses his authority over me to deceive me by false doctrines, or if he commands me to do things which I consider wrong and dishonest, shall I not be lost if I obey him?"
He answered: "You will never have to give an account to God for the actions that you do by the order of your legitimate superiors. If they were to deceive you, being themselves de- ceived, tkey alone would be responsible for the error which you would have committed. Your sin would not be imputed to you as long as you follow the golden rule which is the base of all Christian philosophy and perfection — humility and obedience!"
Little satisfied with that answer, when the lesson was over I expressed my reluctance to accept such principles to several of
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION, ETC. 69'
my fellow students. Among them was Joseph Turcot, who died some years ago when, I think, he wns Minister of Public Works in Canada. He answered me: " The more I study what they call their principles of Christian philosophy and logic, the more I think that they intend to make asses of every one of us !
On the following day I opened my heart to the venerable man who was our principal — the Rev. Mr. Leprohon. I used to venerate him as a saint and love him as a father. I frankly told him that I felt very reluctant in submitting myself to the crude principles which seemed to lead us into the most abject slavery, the slavery of our reason and intelligence. I wrote down his answer, which I give here:
" My dear Chiniquy, how did Adam and Eve lose themselves in the Garden of Eden, and how did they bring upon us all the deluge of evils by which we are overwhelmed? Is it not because they raised their miserable reason above that of God ? They had the promise of eternal life if they had submitted their reason to that of their Supreme Master. They were lost on account of their rebelling against the authority, the reason of God. Thus it is to-day. All the evils, the errors, the crimes by which the world is overflooded come from the same revolt of the human will and reason against the will and reason of God. God reigns yet over a part of the world, the world of the elect, through the Pope, who controls the teachings of our infallible and holy Church. In submitting ourselves to God, who speaks to us through the Pope, we are saved. We walk in the paths of truth and holiness. But we would err, and Infallibly perish, as soon as we put our reason above that of our superior, the Pope, speaking to us in person, or through some of our superiors who have received from him the authority to guide us."
" But," said I, " if my reason tells me that the Pope, or some oi those other superiors who are put by him over me, are mis- taken, and that they command me something wrong, would I not be guilty before God if I obey them ? "
"You suppose a thing utterly impossible," answered Mr. Leprohon, " for the Pope and the bishops who are united to him have the promise of never failing in the faith. They cannot
yO FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
lead you into any errors, nor command you anything against the law of God. But supposing for a moment that they would commit any error, and that they would compel you to believe or do something contrary to the teachmgs of the gospel, God would not ask of you any account of an error committed when you are obeying your legitimate superior."
I had to content myself with that answer, which I put down word for word in my note book. But in spite of my respectful silence, the Rev. Mr. Leprohon saw that I was yet uneasy and sad. In order to convince me of the orthodoxy of his doctrines, he instantly put into my hands the two works of De Maistre, " Le Pape " and " Les Soirees de St. Petersburg," where I found the same doctrines supported. My superior was honest in his convictions. He sincerely believed in the sound philo- sophy and Christianit}' of his principles, for he found them in these books approved by the "infallible Popes."
I will mention another occurrence to show the inconceivable intellectual degradation to which we had been dragged at the end of seven years of collegiate studies. About the year 1829 the curate of St. Anne de la Parade wrote to our principal. Rev. Mr. Leprohon, to ask the assistance of the prayers of all the students of the College of Nicolet in order to obtain the discontinuance of the following calamity : " For more than three weeks one of the most respectable farmers was in danger of losing all his horses from the effects of a sorcery! From morning to night, and during most of the night, repeated blows of whipf? and sticks were heard falling upon these poor horses, which were trembling, foaming and struggling! We can see nothing! The hand of the wizard remains invisible. Pray for us, that we may discover the monster, and that he may be punished as he deserves."
Such were the contents of the jDriest's letter; and as my superior sincerely believed in that fable, I also believed it, as well as the students of the college who had a true piety. On that shore of abject and degrading superstitions I had to land after sailing seven years in the bark called a college of the Church of Rome!
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION, ETC. 7 1
The intellectual part of the studies in a college of Rome, and it is the same in a convent, is therefore entirely worthless. Worse than that, the intelligence is dwarfed under the chains by which it is bound. If the intelligence does sometimes advance, it is in spite of the fetters placed upon it; it is only like some few noble ships which, through the extraordinary skill of their pilots, go ahead against wind and tide.
I know that the priests of Rome can show a certain number of intelligent men in every branch of science who have studied in their colleges. But these remarkable men had from the beginning secretly broken for themselves the chains with which their superiors had tried to bind them. For peace sake they had outwardly followed the rules of the house, but they had secretly trampled under the feet of their noble souls the ignoble fetters which had been j^repared for their understanding. True children of God and light, they had found the secret of remain- ing free even when in the dark cells of a dungeon!
Give me the names of the remarkable and intelligent men who have studied in a college of Rome, and have become real lights in the firmament of science, and I will prove that nine- tenths of them have been persecuted, excommunicated, tortured, some even put to death for having dared to think for them- selves.
Galileo was a Roman Catholic, and he is surely one of the greatest men whom science claims as her most gifted sons. But was he not sent to a dungeon? Was he not publicly flogged by the hands of the executioner? Had he not to ask pardon from God and man for having dared to think differently from the Pope about the motion of the earth around the sun!
Copernicus was surely one of the greatest lights of his time, but was he not censured and excommunicated for his admirable scientific discoveries?
France does not know any greater genius amo|ig her most gifted sons than Pascal. He was a Catholic. But he lived and died excommunicated.
The Church of Rome boasts of Bossuet, the Bishop of Meaux, as one of the greatest men she ever had. Yes; but has
f2 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
not Veulllot, the editor of the Univers^ who knows his man well, confessed and declared before the whole world that Bossuet was a disguised Protestant?
Where can we find a more amiable or learned writer than Montalerabert, who has so faithfully and bravely fought the battle of the Church of Rome in France during more than a quarter of a century? But has he not publicly declared on his death-bed that that Church was an apostate and idolatrous Church from the day that she proclaimed the dogma of the Infallibility of the Pope? Has he not virtually died an excom- municated man for having said with his last breath that the Pope was nothing else than a false god?
Those pupils of Roman Catholic colleges of whom some- times the priests so imprudently boast, have gone out from the hands of their Jesuit teachers to proclaim their supreme con- tempt for the Roman Catholic priesthood and Papacy. They have been near enough to the priest to know him. They have seen with their own eyes that the priest of Rome is the most dangerous, the most implacable enemy of intelligence, progress and liberty; and if their arm be net paralyzed by cowardice, selfishness or hypocrisy, those pupils of the colleges of Rome will be the first to denounce the priesthood of Rome and demol- ish her citadels.
Voltaire studied in a Roman Catholic college, and it was probably when at their school that he nerved himself for the terrible battle he has fought against Rome. The Church will never recover from the blow which Voltaire has struck at her in France.
Cavour, in Italy, had studied in a Roman Catholic college also, and under that very roof it is more than probable that his Koble intelligence had sworn to break the ignominious fetters With which Rome had enslaved his fair country. The most eloquent of the orators of Spain, Castelar, studied in a Roman Catholic college; but hear with what burning eloquence he denounces the tyranny, hypocrisy, selfishness and ignorance of the priests.
Papineau studied under the priests of Rome in their college
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION, ETC. 73
at Montreal. From his earliest years that Eagle of Canada could see and know the priests of Rome as they are; he has weighed them in the balance; he has meastwed them; he has fathomed the dark recesses of their anti-social principles; he has felt his shoulders wounded and bleeding under the igno- minious chains with which they dragged our dear Canada in the mire for nearly two centuries. Papineau was a pupil of the priests; and I have heard several priests boasting of that as a glorious thing. But the echoes of Canada are still repeating the thundering words with which Papineau denounced the priests as the most deadly enemies of the education and liberty of Canada! He was one of the first men of Canada to understand that there was no progress, no liberty possible for our beloved country so long as the priests would have the education of our people in their hands. The whole life of Papineau was a struggle to wrest Canada from their grasp. Everyone knows how he constantly branded tbem, without pity, during his life, and the whole world has been the witness of the supreme contempt with which he has refused their services, and turned them out at the solemn hour of his death!
When, in 1792, France wanted to be free, she understood that the priests of Rome were the greatest enemies of her liber- ties. She turned them out from her soil or hung them to her gibbets. If to-day that noble country of our ancestors is stum- bling and struggling in her tears and her blood — if she has fallen at the feet of her enemies — if her valiant arm has been paralyzed, her sword broken and her strong heart saddened above measure, is it not because she had most imprudently put herself again un- der the yoke of Rome?
Canada's children will continue to flee from the country of their birth so long as the priest of Rome holds the influence which is blasting everything that falls within his grasp, on this continent as well as in Europe; and the United States will soon see their most sacred institutions fall, one after the other, if the Americans continue to send their sons and daughters to the Jesuit colleges and nunneries.
When, in the warmest days of summer, you see a large
5'4 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROMS.
swamp of stagnant and putrid water, you are sure that deadly miasma will spread around, that diseases of the most malignant character, poverty, sufferings of every kind, and death will soon devastate the unfortunate country ; so, when you see Roman Catholic colleges and nunneries raising their haughty steeples over some commanding hills or in the midst of some beautiful valleys, you may confidently expect that the self-respect and the manly virtues of the people will soon disappear — intelligence, progress, prosperity will soon wane away, to be replaced by su- perstition, idleness, drunkenness. Sabbath-breaking, ignorance, poverty and degradation of every kind. The colleges and nunneries are the high citadels from, which the Pope darts his surest missiles against the rights and liberties of nations. The colleges and nunneries are the arsenals where the most deadly weapons are night and day prepared to fight and destroy the soldiers of liberty all over the world.
The colleges and nunneries of the priests are the secret placCxS where the enemies of progress, equality and liberty are holding their councils and fomenting that great conspiracy, the object of which is to enslave the world at the feet of the Pope.
The colleges and nunneries of Rome are the schools where the rising generations are taught that it is an impiety to follow the dictates of their own conscience, hear the voice of their in- telligence, read the Word of God, and worship their Creator according to the rules laid down in the gospel.
It is in the colleges and nunneries of Rome that men learn that they are created to obey the Pope in everything — that the Bible must be burnt, and that liberty must be destroyed at any cost all over the world.
Chapter X.
MOBAIi AND RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN THS ROMAN CATHOLIC COLLEGES.
IN order to understand what kind of moral education students in Roman Catholic colleges receive, one must only be told that from beginning to the end they are surrounded by an atmosphere in which nothing but Paganism is breathed. The models of eloquence which we learned by heart were almost exclusively taken from Pagan literature. In the same manner Pagan models of wisdom, of honor, of chastity were offered to our admiration. Our minds were constantly fixed on the master- pieces which Paganism has left. The doors of our understand- ing were left open only to receive the rays of light which Paganism has shed on the world. Homer, Socrates, Lycurgus, Virgil, Horace, Cicero, Tacitus, Caesar, Xenophon, Demosthenes Alexander, Lucretia, Regulus, Brutus, Jupiter, Venus, Minerva, Mars, Diana, etc., etc., crowded each other in our thoughts, to occupy them and be their models, examples and masters for ever.
It may be said that the same Pagan writers, orators and heroes are studied, read and admired in Protestant colleges. But there the infallible antidote, the Bible, is given to the students. Just as nothing remains of the darkness of night after the splendid morning sun has arisen on the horizon, so nothing of the fallacies, superstitions and sophisms of Paganism can trouble or obscure the mind on which that light from heaven, the Word of God, comes every day with its millions of shining rays. How insignificant is the poetry of Homer when compared with the sublime sox^gs of Moses! How pale is the eloquence of Demos- thenes, Cicero, Virgil, etc., when read after Job, David or
75
*^ FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
Solomon! How quickly umble down the theories which tho»c haughty heathens of old wanted to raise over the intelligence o| men when the thundering voice from Sinai is heard; when the incomparable songs of David, Solomon, Isaiah or Jeremiah are ravishing the soul which is listening to their celestial strains! It is a fact that Pagan eloquence and philosophy can be but very tasteless to men accustomed to be fed with the bread which comes down from heaven, whose souls are filled with the eloquence of God, and whose intelligence is fed with the phlio- sophy of heaven.
But, alas! for me and my fellow-students in the college of Rome! No sun ever appeared on the horizon to dispel the night in which our intelligence was wrapped. The dark clouds with which Paganism had surrounded us were suffocating us, and no breath from heaven was allowed to come and dispel them. Moses, with his incomparable legislation, David and Solomon with their divine poems, Job with his celestial philo- sophy, Jeremiah, Isaiah and Daniel with their sublime songs, Jesus Christ himself with his soul-saving gospel, as well as his apostles Peter, John, Jude, James and Paul — these were all put on the Index!! They had not the liberty to speak to us, and we were forbidden, absolutely forbidden, to read and hear them!
It is true that the Church of Rome, as an offset to that, gave us her principles, precepts, fables and legends that we might be attached to her, and that she might remain the mistress of our hearts. But these doctrines, practices, principles and fables seemed to us so evidently borrowed from Paganism — they were so cold, so naked, so stripped of all true poetry, that if the Pa- ganism of the ancients was not left absolute master of our affec- tions, it still claimed a large part of our souls. To create in us a love for the Church of Rome, our superiors depended greatly on the works of Chateaubriand. The " Genie du Christianisme" was the book of books to dispel all our doubts, and attach us to the Pope's religion. But this author, whose style is sometimes really beautiful, destroyed, by the weakness of his logic, the Christianity which he wanted to build up. We could easily see that Chateaubriand was not sincere, and his exaggerations were
MORAL A^X) RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION, ETC. 77
to many of us a sure indication that he did not believe in what he said. The works of De Maistre, the most impudent history- falsificator of France, were also put into our hands as a sure guide in our philosophical and historical studies. The " Mem- oirs du Conte Valmont," with some authors of the same stamp, were much relied on by our superiors to prove to us that the dogmas, precepts and practices of the Roman Catholic religion were brought from heaven.
It was certainly our desire as well as our interest to believe them. But how our faith was shaken, and how we felt troubled when Livy, Tacitus, Cicero, Virgil, Homer, etc., gave us the evidence that the greater part of these things had their root and their origin in Paganism.
For instance, our superiors had convinced us that scapulars, medals, holy water, etc., would be of great service to us in battling with the most dangerous temptations, as well as ni avoiding the most common dangers of life. Consequently we all had scapulars and medals, which we kept with the greatest respect, and even kissed morning and evening with affection, as if they were powerful instruments of the mercy of God to us. How great, then, was our confusion and disappointment when we discovered in the Greek and Latin historians that those scapulars and medals and statuettes were nothing but a remnant of Paganism, and that the worshippers of Jupiter, Minerva, Diana and Venus believed themselves also free, as we did, from nil calamity when they carried them in honor of these divinities! The further we advanced in the study of Pagan antiquity, the more we were forced to believe that our religion, instead of being born at the foot of Calvary, was only a pale and awkward imitation of Paganism. The modern Maximus Pontifex (the Pope of Rome), who, as we were assured, was the successor of St. Peter, the Vicar of Jesus Christ, resembled the "Pontifex Maximus " of the great republic and empire of pagan Rome as two drops of water resemble each other. Had not our Pope preserved not only the name, but also the attributes, the pageantry, the pride, and even the garb of that high pagan priest? Was not the worship of the saints absolutely the same as the
78 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
worship of the demigods of olden time? Was not our purga- tory minutely described by Virgil? Were not our prayers to the Virgiri and to the saints repeated, almost in the same words, by the worshippers who prostrated themselves before the images of their gods, just as we repeated them every day before the images which adorned our churches? Was not our holy water in use among the idolaters, and for the same purpose for which it is used among us?
We knew by history the year in which the magnificent Jemple consecrated to all the gods^ bearing the name of Pan- theon, had been built at Rome. We were acquainted with the names of several of the sculptors who had carved the statues of the gods in that heathen temple, at whose feet the idolaters bowed respectfully, and words cannot express the shame we felt on learning that the Roman Catholics of our day, under the very eyes and with the sanction of the Pope, still prostrated themselves before the same idols, in the same temple, and to obtain the same favors!
When we asked each other the question, " What is the difference between the religon of heathen Rome and that of the Rome of to-day?" more than one student would answer: "The only difference is in the name. The idolatrous temples are the same: the idols have not left their places. To-day, as formerly, the same incense burns in their honor? Nations are still pros- trated at their feet to give them the same homage and to ask of them the same favors; but instead of calling this statue Jupiter, we call it Peter; and instead of calling that one Minerva or Venus, it is called St. Mary. It is the old idolatry coming to us under Christian names."
I earnestly desired to be an honest and sincere Roman Catholic. These impressions and thoughts distracted me greatly, inasmuch as I could find nothing in reason to diminish their force. Unfortunately, many of the books placed in our hands by our superiors to confirm our faith, form our moral character and sustain our piety and our confide jjce in the dogmas of the Church of Rome, had a frightful resemblance to the histories I had read of the gods and goddesses. 1 he miracles attributed to
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION, ETC 79
the Virgin Mary often appeared to be only a reproduction of the tricks and deceits by which the priests of Jupiter, Venus, Minerva, etc., used to obtain their ends and grant the requests of their worshippers. Some of those miracles of the Virgin Mary equalled, if they did not surpass, in absurdity and immorality, what mythology taught us among the most hideous accounts of the heathen gods and goddesses.
I could cite hundreds of such miracles which shocked my faith and caused me to blush in secret at the conclusion to which I was forced to come, in comparing the worship of ancient and modern Rom.e. I will only quote three of these modern miracles, which are found in one of the books the best approved by the Pope, entitled " The Glories of Mary."
First miracle. " The great favors bestowed by the Holy Virgin upon a nun named Beatrix, of the Convent of Fronte- braldo, show how merciful she is to sinners. The fact is related by Cesanus, and by Father Rho. This unfortunate nun, having been possessed by a criminal passion for a young man, deter- mined to leave her convent and elope with him. She was the doorkeeper of the convent, and having placed the keys of the monastery at the feet of a statue of the Holy Virgin, she boldly went out, then led a life of prostitution during fifteen years in a far off place.
" One day, accidentally meeting the purveyor of her convent, and thinking she would not be recognized by him, she asked him news of Sister Beatrix.
" ' I know her well,' answered this man; 'she is a holy nun, and is mistress of the novices.'
*' At these words Beatrix was confused; but to understand what it meant, she changed her clothing, and going to the con- vent, inquired after Sister Beatrix.
" The Holy Virgin distantly appeared to her in the form of the statue at whose feet she had placed the keys at her departure. The Divine Mother spoke to her in this wise: ' Know, Beatrix, that in order to preserve your honor, I have taken your place and done your duty since you have left your convent. My daughter, return to God and be nenitent, for my son is still
8o FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
waiting for you. Try, by the holiness of thy Hfe, to preserve the good reputation which I have earned you.' Having thus spoken, the Holy Virgin disappeared. Beatrix re-entered the monastery, donned her religious dress, and, grateful for the mercies of Mary, she led the life of a saint." ("Glories of Mary," chap, vi., sec. 2.)
Second miracle. Rev. Father Rierenberg relates that there existed in a city called Aragona, a beautiful und noble girl by the name of Alexandra, whom two young men loved passion- ately. One day, maddened by the jealousy each one had of the other, they fought together, and both w^ere killed. Their parents were so infuriated at the young girl, the author of these calamities, that they killed her, cut her head off, and threw her into a well. A few days after St. Dominic, passing by the place, was inspired to approach the well and to cr}^ out, "Alexandra, come here!" The head of the deceased imme- diately placed itself upon the edge of the well, and entreated St. Dominic to hear its confession. Having heard it, the Saint gave her the communion in the presence of a great multitude of people, and then he commanded her to tell them why she had received so great a favor.
She answered that though she was in a state of mortal sin when she was decapitated, yet as she had a habit of reciting the iioly rosary, the Virgin had preserved her life.
The head, full of life, remained on the edge of the well two days before the eyes of a great many people, and then the soul went to purgatory. But fifteen days after this the soul of Alexandra appeared to St. Dominic, bright and beautiful as a star, and told him that one of the surest means of removing souls from purgatory was the recitation of the rosar}^ in their favor. (" Glories of Mary," chap, viii., sec. 2).
Third miracle. "A servant of Mary one day w^ent into one of her churches to pray, without tailing her husband of it. Owing to a terrible storm she was prevented from returning home that night. Harassed by the fear that her husband would be angry, she implored Mary's help. But on returning home she found her husband full of kindness. After asking her
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION, ETC. 8l
husband a few questions on the subject, she discovered that during that very night the Divine Mother had taken her forn-i any features and had taken her place in all the affairs of the household! She informed her husband of the great miracle, and they both became very much devoted to the Holy Virgin." ("Glories of Mary:" Examples of Protection, 40.)
Persons w^ho have never studied in a Roman Catholic college will hardly believe that such fables were told us as an appeal for us to become Christians. But, God knows, I tell the truth. Is it not a profanation of a holy word to say that Christianity is the religion taught the students in Rome's colleges?
After reading the monstrous metamorphoses of the gods of Olympus, the student feels a pi ©found pity for the nations who have lived so long in the darkness of Paganism. He cannot understand how so many millions of men were, for such a long time, deceived by such cruel fables. With joy his thoughts are turned to the God of Calvary, there to receive light and life. He feels, as it were, a burning desire to nourish himself with the words of life, fallen from the lips of the " great victim." But here comes the priest of the college, who places himself between the student and Christ, and instead of allowing him to be nourished with the Bread of Life he offers him fables, husks with which to appease his hunger. Instead of allowing him to slake his thirst from the waters which flow from the fountains of eternal life, he offers him a corrupt beverage !
God alone knows what I have suffered during my studies to find myself absolutely deprived of the privilege of eating this bread of life — His Holy Word.
During the last years of my studies, my superiors often confided to me the charge of the library. Once it happened that, as the students were taking a holiday, I remained alone in the college, and shutting myself up in the library, I began to examine all the books. I was not a little surprised to discover that the books which were the most proper to instruct us stood on the catalogue of the library marked among the forbidden books. I felt an inexpressible shame on seeing with my own ?yes that none but the most indifferent books were placed in our
82 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
hands — that we were permitted to read authors of the third rank only (if this expression is suitable to such whose only merit consisted in flattering the Popes, and in concealing or excusing their crimes). Several students more advanced than myself had already made the observation to me, but I did not believe them. Self-love gave me the hope that I was as well educated as one could be at my age. Until then I hae spurned the idea that, with the rest of the students, I was the victim of an incredible system of moral and intellectual blindness.
Among the forbidden books of the college I found a splendid Bible. It seemed to be of the sarre edition as the one whose perusal had made hours pass away so pleasantly when I was at home with my mother. I seized it with the transports of a miser finding a lost treasure. I lifted it to my lips, and kissed it respectfully. I pressed it against my heart, as one embraces a friend from whom he has long been separated. This Bible brought back to my memory the most delightful hours of my life. I read its divine pages until the scholars returned.
The next day Rev. Mr. Leprohon, our director, called me to his room during the recreation, and said: "You seem to be troubled and very sad to-day. I noticed that you remained alone while the other scholars were enjoying themselves so well Have you any cause of grief.? or are you sick?"
I could not sufficiently express my love and respect for this venerable man. He was at the srme time my friend and bene- factor. For four years he and Rev. Mr. Brassard had been paying my board; for, owing to a misunderstanding between myself and my uncle Dionne, he had ceased to maintain me at college. By reading the Bible the previous day I had disobeyed my benefactor, Mr Leprohon; for when he entrusted me with the care of the library he made me promise not to read the book? in the forbidden catalogue.
It was painful to me to sadden him by acknowledging that 1 had broken my word of honor, but it pained me far more to deceive him by concealing the truth. I therefore answered him: " Yon are right in supposing that I am uneasy and sad. I confess there is one thing which perplexes me — --^^-r f»mong the rules
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION, ETC. 83
that govern u&. I never dared to speak to you about it; but as you wish to know the cause of my sadness, I will tell you. You have placed in our hands, not only to read, but to learn by heart, books which are, as 3'ou know, partly inspired by hell, and you forbid us to read the only book whose every word is sent from heaven! You permit us to read books dictated by the Spirit of darkness and sin, and you make it a crime for us to read the only book written under the dictation of the Spirit of light and holiness. This conduct on your part, and on the part of all the superiors of the college, disturbs and scandalizes me! Shall I tell you, your dread of the Bible shakes my faith, and causes me to fear that we are going astray in our Church."
Mr. Leprohon answered me: "I have been the director of this college for more than twenty years, and I have never heard from the lips of any of the students such remarks and com- plaints as you are making to me to-day. Have you no fear of being the victim of a deception of the devil, in meddling with a question so strange and so new for a scholar whose only aim should be to obey his superiors ? "
" It may be," said I, " that I am the first to speak to you in this manner, for it is very probable that I am the only student in this college who has read the Holy Bible in his youthful days. I have already told you there was a Bible in my father's house, which disappeared only after his death, though I never could know what became of it. I can assure you that the perusal of that admirable book has done me a good that is still felt. It is, therefore, because I know by a personal experience that there is no book in the world so good, and so proper to read, that I am extremely grieved, and even scandalized, by the dread you have of it. I acknowledge to you I spent the afternoon of yesterday in the library reading the Bible. I found things in it which made me weep for joy and happiness — things that did more good to my soul and heart than all you have given me to read for six years. And I am so sad to-day because you approve of me when I read the works of the devil, and condemn me when I read the Word of God."
My superior answered*. " Since you have read the Bible, you
&i FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
must know that there are things hi it on matters of such a delicate nature that it is improper for a young man, and more so for a young lady, to read them."
" I understand," answered I ; " but these delicate matters, of which you do not want God to speak a word to us, you know very well that Satan speaks to us about them day and night. Now, when Satan speaks about and attracts our thoughts towards an evil and criminal thing, it is always in order that we may like it and be lost. But when the God of Purity speaks to us of evil things (of which it is pretty much impossible for men to be ignorant). He does it that we may hate and abhor them, and He gives us grace to avoid them. Well, then, since you cannot prevent the devil from whispering to us things so delicate and dangerous to seduce us, how dare you hinder God from speaking of the same things to shield us from their allurements? Besides, when my God desires to speak to me Himself on any question whatever, where is your right to obstruct His word ox\ its way to my heart? "
Though Mr. Leprohon's intelligence was as much wrapped up in the darkness of the Church of Rome as it could be, his heart had remained honest and true; and while I respected and loved him as my father, though differing from him in opinion, I knew he loved me as if I had been his own child. He was thunderstruck by my answer. He turned pale, and I saw tears about to flow from his eyes. He sighed deeply, and looked at me some time reflectingly, without answering. At last he said: " My dear Chiniquy, your answer and your arguments have a force that frightens me, and if I had no other but my own personal ideas to disprove them, I acknowledge I do not know how I would do it. But I have something better than my own weak thoughts. I have the thoughts of the Church, and of our Holy Father the Pope. They forbid us to put the Bible in the hands of our students. This should suffice to put an end to your troubles. To obey his legitimate superiors in all things and everywhere, is the rule a Christian scholar like you should follow; and if you have broken it yesterday, I hope it will be the last time that the child w1iom I love better than myself will
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION, ETC. 85
On saying this he threw his arms around me, clasped me to his heart, and bathed my face with tears. I wept also. Yes, I wept abundantly.
But God knoweth, that though the regret of having grieved my benefactor and father caused me to shed tears at that moment, yet I wept much more on perceiving that I would no more be permitted to read His Holy Word.
If, therefore, I am asked what moral and religious education we received at college, I will ask in return. What religious edu- cation can we receive in an institution where seven years are spent without once being permitted to read the Gospel of God? The gods of the heathen spoke to us daily by their apostles and disciples — Homer, Virgil, Pindar, Horace! and the God of the Christians had not permission to say a single word to us in that college!
Our religion, therefore, could be nothing but Paganism disguised under a Christian name. Christianity in a college or convent of Rome is such a strange mixture of heathenism and superstition, both ridiculous and childish, and of shocking fables, that the majority of those who have not entirely smothered t^ie voice of reason cannot accept it. A few do, as I did, all in their power, and succeed to a certain extent, in believing only what the superior tells them to believe. They close their eyes and permit themselves to be led exactly as if they were blind, and a friendly hand were offering to guide them. But the greater nnmber of students in Roman Catholic colleges cannot accept the bastard Christianity which Rome presents to them. Of course, during their studies they follow its rules, for the sake of peace ; but they have hardly left college before they proceed to join and increase the ranks of the army of skeptics and infidels which overruns France, Spain, Italy and Canada — which over- runs, in fact, all the countries where Rome has the education of the people in her hands.
1 must say, though with a sad heart, that moral and religious education in Roman Catholic colleges is worse than void, for from them has been excluded the only true standard of morals and religion — The Word of God!
Chapter XI.
PROTESTANT CHILDREN IN THE CONVENTS AND NUNNERIES OF ROME.
WE read in the history of Paganism that parents were often, in those dark ages, slaying their children upon the altars of their gods, to appease their wrath or obtain their favors. But we now see a stranger thing. It is that of Christian parents forcing their children into the temples and to the very feet of the idols of Rome, under the fallacious notion of having them educated! While the Pagan parent destroyed only the temporal life of his child, the Christian parent, for the most part, destroys his eternal life. The Pagan was consistent: he believed in the almighty power and holiness of his gods; he sincerely thought that they ruled the world, and that they blessed both the victims and those who offered them. But where is the consistency of the Protestant who drags his child and offers him as a sacrifice on the altars of the Pope! Does he believe in his holiness or in his supreme and infallible power of governing the intelligence? , Then why does he not go ana throw himself at his feet and increase the number of his disciples? The Protestants who are guilty of this great wrong are wont to say, as an excuse, that the superiors of colleges and convents have assured them that their religious convictions would be respected, and that nothing should be said or done to take away or even shake the religion of their children.
Our first parents were not more cruelly deceived by the seductive words of the serpent than the Protestants are this day by the deceitful promises of the priests and nuns of Rome.
I had been myself the witness of the promise given by our
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superior to a judge of the State of New York, when, a few days later that same superior, the Rev. Mr. Leprohon, said to me: "You know some English, and this young man knows French enough to enable you to understand each other. Try to become his friend and to bring him over to our holy religion. His father is a most influential man in the United States, and this, his only son, is the heir of an immense fortune. Great results for the future of the Church in the neighboring republic might follow his conversion."
I replied : " Have you forgotten the promise you have made to his father, never to say or do anything to shake or take away the religion of that young man ? "
My superior smiled at my simplicity, and said: "When you shall have studied theology you will know that Protestantism is not a religion, but that it is the negation of religion. Protesting cannot be the basis of any doctrine. Thus, when I promised Judge Pike that the religious convictions of his child should be respected, and that I would not do anything to change his faith, I did promise the easiest thing in the world, since I promised not to meddle with a thing which has no existe^ice^
Convinced, or rather blinded, by the reason of my superior, which is the reasoning of every superior of a college or nunnery, I set myself to work from that moment to make a good Roman Catholic of that young friend; and I would probably have suc- ceeded, had not a serious illness forced him, a few months after, to go home, where he died.
Protestants who may read these lines will, perhaps, be indignant against the deceit and knavery of the Superior of the College of Nicolet. But I will say to those Protestants, it is not on that man, but on yourselves, that you must pour your contempt. The Rev. Mr. Leprohon was honest. He acted conformably to principles which he thought good and legitimate, and for which he would have cheerfully given the last drop of his blood. He sincerely believed that your Protestantism is a mere negation of all religion, worthy of the contempt of every true Christian. It was not the priest of Rome who was con- temptible, dishonest and a traitor to his principles, but it was
88 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
the Protestant who was false to his gospel mtd to his own conscience by having his child educated by the servants of the Pope. Moreover, can we not truthfully say that the Protestant who wishes to have his children bred and educated by a Jesuit or a nun is a man of no religion? and that nothing is more ridiculous than to hear such a man begging respect for his religious principles ! A man's ardent desire to have his reli- gious convictions respected is best known by his respecting them himself.
The Protestant who drags his children to the feet of the priests of Rome is either a disguised ihfidel or a hypocrite. It is simply ridiculous for such a man to speak of his religious convictions, or beg respect for them. His very humble position at the feet of a Jesuit or a nun, begging respect for his faith, is a sure testimony that he has none to lose. If he had any he would not be there, an humble and abject suppliant. He would take care to be where there could be no danger to his dear child's immortal soul.
When I was in the Church of Rome, we often spoke of the necessity of making superhuman efforts to attract young Prot- estants into our colteges and nunneries, as the shortest and only means of ruling the world before long. And as the mother has in her hands, still more than the father, the destinies of the family and of the world, we were determined to sacrifice every- thing in order to build nunneries all over the land, where the young girls, the future mothers of our country, would be moulded in our hands and educated according to our views.
Nobody can deny that this is supreme wisdom. Who will not admire the enormous sacrifices made by Romanists in order to surround the nunneries with so many attractions tLat it is difficult to refuse them preference above all other female scholastic establishments? One feels so well in the shade of these magnificent trees during the hot days of summer! It is so pleasant to live near this beautiful sheet of water, or the rapid current of that charming river, or to have constantly before one's eyes the sublime spectacle of the sea! What a sweet perfunit: the flowers of that parterre diffuse around that pretty and
PROTESTANT CHILDREN IN THE CONVENTS, ETC. 89
peaceful convent! And, besides, who can withstand the almost angelic charms of the Lady Superior! How it does one good to be in the midst of those holy nuns, whose modesty, affable appearance, and lovely smile present such a beautiful spectacle, that one would think of being at heaven's gate rather than in a world of desolation and sin!
0 foolish man ! Thou art always the same— ever ready to be seduced by glittering appearances — ever ready to suppress the voice of thy conscience at the first view of a seductive object!
One day I had embarked in the boat of a fisherman on the coast of one of those beautiful islands which the hand of God has placed at the mouth of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. In a few minutes the white sail, full-blown by the morning breeze, had carried us nearly a mile from the shore. There we dropped our anchor, and soon our lines, carried by the current, offered the deceitful bait to the fishes. But not one would come. One would have thought that the sprightly inhabitants of these limpid waters had acted in concert to despise us. In vain did we move our lines to and fro to attract the attention of the fishes; not one would come! We were tired. We lamented the prospect of losing our time, and being laughed at by our friends on the shore who were waiting the result of our fishing to dine. Nearly one hour was spent in this manner, when the captain said, " Indeed, I will make the fishes come."
Opening a box, he took out handfuls of little pieces of finely- cut fishes, and threw them broadcast on the water.
1 was looking at him with curiosity, and I received with a feeling of unbelief, the promise of seeing, in a few moments, more mackerel than I could pick up. These particles of fish, falling upon the water, scattered themselves in a thousand different ways. The rays of the sun, sporting among these numberless fragments, and thousands of scales, gave them a singular whiteness and brilliancy. They appeared Hke a thou- sand diamonds, full of movement and life, that sported and rolled themselves, running at each other, while rocking upon the waves.
OO FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
As these innumerable little objects withdrew from us tney looked like the milky way in the firmament. The rays of the sun continued to be reflected upon the scales of the fishes in the water, and to transform them into as many pearls, whose white- ness and splendor made an agreeable contrast with the deep green color of the sea.
While looking as that spectircle, which was so new to me, I felt my line jerked out of my hands, and soon had the pleasure of seeing a magnificent mackerel lying at my feet. My com- panions were as fortunate as I was. The bait so generously thrown away had perfectly succeeded in bringing us not only hundreds, but thousands of fishes, and we caught as many of them as the boat could carry.
The Jesuits and the nuns are the Pope's cleverest fishermen, and the Protestants are the mackerels caught upon their baited hooks. Never fisherman knew better to prepare the perfidious bait than the nuns and Jesuits, and never were stupid fishes more easily caught than Protestants in general.
The priests of Rome themselves boast that more than half of the pupils of the nuns are the children of Protestants, and that seven-tenths of those Protestant children, sooner or later, become the firmest disciples and the true pillars of popery in the United States. It is with that public and undeniable fact before them that the Jesuits have prophesied that before twenty-five years the pope will rule that great republic; and if there is not a prompt change their prophecy will probably be accomplished.
" But," say many Protestants, "where can we get safer se- curities that the morals of our girls will be sheltered than in those convents? The faces of those good nuns, their angelic smiles, even their Hps, from which, seems to flow a perfume from heaven — are not these the unfailing signs that nothing will taint the hearts of our dear children when they are under the care of those holy nuns ? "
Angelic smiles! Lips from which flow a perfume from heaven! Expressions of peace and holiness of the good nunsf Delusive allurements! Cruel deceptions! Mockery of comedy J Yes, all these angelic smiles, all these expressions ot joy and
PROTESTANT CHILDREN IN THE CONVENTS, ETC. 9I
happiness, are but allurements to deceive honest but too trusting men!
I believed myself for a long time that there was something true in all the display of peace and happiness which I saw re- flected in the faces of a good number of nuns. But how soon my delusions passed away when I read with my own eyes, in a book of the secret rules of the convent, that one of their rules is always^ especially in the presence of strangers, to have an ap- pearance of joy and happiness, even when the soul is overwhelmed with grief and sorrow ! The motives given to the nuns for thus wearing a continual mask, is to secure the esteem and respect of the people, and to win more securely the young ladies to the convent !
All know the sad end of life of one of the most celebrated female comedians of the American theatre. She had acted her part in the evening with a perfect success. She appeared so handsome and so happy on the stage! Her voice was such a perfect harmony ; her singing was so merry and lively with mirth! Two hours later she was a corpse ! She had poisoned herself on leavino- the theatre! For some time her heart was broken with ofrief which she could not bear.
Thus it is with the nun in her cell ! forced to play a sacri- legious comedy to deceive the world and to bring new recruits to the monastery. And the Protestants, the disciples of the gos- pel, the children of light, suffer themselves to be deceived by this impious comedy.
The poor nun's heart is often full of sorrow, and her soul is drowned in a sea of desolation ; but she is obliged, under oath, always to appear gay ! Unfortunate victim of the most cruel deception that has ever been invented. That poor daughter of Eve, deprived of all the happiness that heaven has given, tor- tured night and day by honest aspirations, which she is told are unpardonable sins, she has not only to suppress in herself the few buds of happiness which God has left in her soul, but what is more cruel, she is forced to appear happy in anguish of shame and of deception.
Ah! if Protestants cou'd know, as I do, how much the
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hearts of those nuns bleed, how much those poor victims of the pope feel themselves wounded to death, how almost every one of them die at an early age, broken-hearted, instead of speaking of their happiness and holiness, they would weep at their pro- found misery. Instead of helping Satan to build up and main- tain those sad dungeons by giving both their gold and their chil- dren, they would let them crumble into dust, and thus check the torrents of silent though bitter tears which those cells hide from our view.
I was traveling in 1S51 over the vast prairies of Illinois in search of a spot which would suit us the best for the colony which I was about to found. One day my companions and my- self found ourselves so wearied by the heat that we resolved to wait for the cool night in the shade of a few trees around a brook. The night was calm ; there w^ere no clouds in the sky, and the moon was beautiful. Like the sailor upon the sea, we had nothing but our compass to regulate our course on those beautiful and vast prairies. But the pen cannot express the emotions I felt while looking at that beautiful sky and those magnificent deserts opened to our view.
We often came to sloughs which we thought deeper than they really were, and of which we would keep the side for fear of drowning our horses. Many a time did I get down from the carriage and stop to contemplate the wonders which those ponds presented to our view.
All the splendors of the sky seemed brought down in those pure and limpid waters. The moon and the stars seemed to have left their places in the firmament to bathe themselves in those delightful lakelets. All the purest, the most beautiful things of the heavens seemed to come down to hide themselves in those tranquil waters as if in search of more peace and purity.
A few days later I was retracing my steps. It was daytime, and following the same route, I was longing to get to my charm- ing little lakes. But during the interval the heat had been great, the sun very hot, and my beautiful sheets of water had been dried up. My dear little lakes were nowhere to be seen.
And what did I find instead? Innumerable reptiloK, with
PROTESTANT CHILDREN IN THE CONVENTS, ETC. 93
the most hideous forms and filthy colors! No brilliant stars, no clear moon were there any more to charm my eyes. There was nothing left but thousands of little toads and snakes, at the sight of which I was filled with disgust and horror!
Protestants! when upon life's way you are tempted to admire the smiling lips and unstained faces of the pope's nuns, please think of those charming lakes which I saw on the prairies of Illinois, and remember the innumerable reptiles and toads which swarm at the bottom of those deceitful waters.
When, by the light of divine truth, Protestants see behind these perfect mockeries by which the nun conceals with so much care the hideous misery which devours her heart, they will under- stand the folly of having permitted themselves to be so easily deceived by appearances. Then they will bitterly weep for hav- ing sacrificed to that modern Paganism the future welfare of their children, of their families and of their country!
" But," says one, " the education is so cheap in the nunnery." 1 answer, " The education in convents, were it twice cheaper than it is now, would still cost twice more than it is worth. It is in this circumstance that we can repeat and apply the old proverb, ' Cheap things are always too highly paid for.' "
In the first place, the intellectual education in the nunnery is completely null. The great object of the pope and the nuns is to captivate and destroy the intelligence.
The moral education is also of no account; for what kind of morality can a young girl receive from a nun who believes that she can live as she pleases as long as she likes it — that nothing evil can come of her, neither in this life nor in the next, provided only she is devout to the Virgin Mary ?
Let Protestants read the " Glories of Mary," by St. Liguori, a book which is in the hands of every nun and every priest, and they will understand what kind of morality is practiced and taught inside the walls of the Church of Rome. Yes, let them read the history of that lady who was so well represented at home by the Holy Virgin that her husband did not perceive that she had been absent, and they will have some idea of what theil children mav learn in a convent.
Chapter XIL
aOME AND EDUCATION- WHY DOES THE CHURCH OF ROMB HATE THE COMMON SCHOOLS OF THE UNITED STATES, AND WANTS TO DESTROY THEM? WHY DOES SHE OBJECT TO THE READING OF THE BIBLE IN THE SCHOOL?
THE word EDUCATION is a beautiful word. It comes from the Latin educare^ which means to raise up, to take from the lowest degrees to the highest spheres of knowledge. The object of education is, then, to feed, expand, raise, enlighten and strengthen the intelligence.
We hear the Roman Catholic priests making use of that beautiful word education as often, if not oftener, than the Protest- ant. But that word " education " has a very different meaning among the followers of the pope than among the disciples of the Gospel. And that difference, which the Protestants ignore, is the cause of the strange blunders they make every time they try to legislate on that question, here, as well as in England or in Canada.
The meaning of the word education among Protestants is as far from the meaning of that same word among Roman Catholics as the southern pole is from the northern pole. When a Protest- ant speaks of education, that word is used and understood in its true sense. When he sends his little boy to a Protestant school, he honestly desires that he should be reared up in the spheres of knowledge as much as his intelligence will allow. When that little boy is going to school, he soon feels that he has been raised up to some extent, and he experiences a sincere joy, a noble pride, for this new, though at first very modest raising; but he naturally understands that this new and mod* est upheaval is only a stone to step on and raise himself to a
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higher degree of knowledge, and he quickly makes that second step with an unspeakable pleasure. When the son of a Protest- ant has acquired a little knowledge, he wants to acquire more. When he has learned what this means, he wants to know what that means also. Like the young eagle, he trims his wings for a higher flight, and turns his head upward to go farther up in the atmosphere of knowledge. A noble and mysterious ambi- tion has suddenly seized his young soul. Then he begins to feel something of that unquenchable thirst for knowledge which God Himself has put in the breast of every child of Adam; a thirst of knowledge, however, which will never be perfectly realized except in heaven.
When God created man in His own image. He endowed him with an intelligence and moral faculties worthy of the high, I was going to say the divine, dignity of His own beloved chil- dren. He Himself put in us aspirations and instincts by which we were to be constantly longing after the oceans of light, truth and knowledge, whose waves wash His eternal throne. It is that thirst after more knowledge, that constant longing after more light, which constitutes the difference between man and brute. Man has received from God an intelligence which, though clouded now by sin, is to him what the helm is to the noble ship which crosses the boundless ocean; he has a con- science, an immortal soul which binds him to God, and he feels it. His destinies are glorious, they are incommensurable, they are infinite, and he knows it. Though a dethroned king, he feels that he is still a king. The six thousand years which have passed over him since his fall have not yet effaced the kingly title which God Himself wrote on his forehead when He told him, "Multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it" (Gen. i: 28). With that glorious, that divine mission of subduing the air and the light, the wind and the waves, the seas and the earth, the roaring thunder and the flashing lightning constantly before his eyes, man marches to the conquest of the world with the calm certitude of his power and the glorious aspirations of his royal dignity.
The object of education3 then, is to enable man to fulfill that
p6 FIFTY YEARS IN THE CHURCH OF ROME.
kingly mission of ruling, subduing the world, under the eyes of his Creator. Let us remember that it is not from himself, nor from any angel, but it is from God himself that man has received that sublime mission. Yes, it is God himself who has implanted in the bosom of humanity the knowledge and aspira- tions of those splendid destinies which can be attained only by " Education."
What a glorious impulse is this that seizes hold of the newly awakened mind, and leads the young intelligence to rise higher and pierce the clouds that hide from his gaze the splendors of knowledge that lie concealed beyond the gloom of this nether sphere! That impulse is a noble ambition; it is that part of humanity that assimilates itself to the likeness of the great Creator; that impulse which education has for its mission to direct in its onward and upward march, is one of the most precious gifts of God to man. Once more, the glorious mission of education is to foster these thirstings after knowledge and le^d man to accomplish his high destiny.
It ought to be a duty with both Roman Catholics and Protestants to assist the pupil in his flight toward the regions of science and learning. But is it so? No. When you Pro- testants send your children to school, you put no fetters to their intelligence; they rise with fluttering wings day after day. Though their flight at first is slow and timid, how happy they feel at every new aspect of their intellectual horizon! How their hearts beat with an unspeakable joy when they begin to hear voices of applause and encouragement from every side saying to them, "Higher, higher, higher!" When they shake their young wings to take a still higher flight, who can express their joy when they distinctly hear again the voices of a beloved mother, of a dear father, of a venerable pastor, cheering them and saying, " Well done! Higher yet, my child, higher! "
Raising themselves with more confidence on their wings, they then soar still higher, in the midst of the unanimous concert of the voices of their whole country encouraging them to the highest flight. It is then that the young man feel his intellec- tual strength tenfold multiplied. He lifts himself on his eagle
ROME AND EDUCATION, ETC. ^
wings, with a renewed confidence