CHAPTER 14
Were I to write all the ingenious tricks, pious lies, shameful
stories called miracles, and sacrilegious perversions of the Word of God made
use of by superiors of seminaries and nunneries to entice poor victims into the
trap of perpetual celibacy, I should have to write ten large volumes, instead of
a short chapter.
Sometimes the trials and obligations of married life are so exaggerated that
they may frighten the strongest heart. At other times the joys, peace and
privileges of celibacy are depicted with such brilliant colours that they fill
the coldest mind with enthusiasm.
The Pope takes his victim to the top of a high mountain, and there shows him all
the honours, praise, wealth, peace and joys of this world, united to the most
glorious throne of heaven, and then tells him: "I will give you all those
things if you fall at my feet, promise me an absolute submission, and swear
never to marry in order to serve me better."
Who can refuse such glorious things? But before entirely shutting their eyes, so
that they may not see the bottomless abyss into which they are to fall, the
unfortunate victims sometimes have forebodings and presentiments of the terrible
miseries which are in store for them. The voice of their conscience,
intelligence and common sense has not always been so fully silenced as the
superior desired.
At the very time when the tempter is whispering his lying promises into their
ears, their Heavenly Father is speaking to them of the ceaseless trials, the
shameful falls, the tedious days, the dreary nights, and the cruel and
insufferable burdens which are concealed behind the walls where the sweet yoke
of the good Master is exchanged for the burdens of heartless men and women.
As formerly, the human victims crowned with flowers, when dragged to the foot of
the altar of their false gods, often cried out with alarm and struggled to
escape from the bloody knife of the heathen priest, so at the approach of the
fatal hour at which the impious vow is to be made, the young victims often feel
their hearts fainting and filled with terror. With pale cheeks, trembling lips
and cold-dropping sweat they ask their superiors, "Is it possible that our
merciful God requires of us such a sacrifice?"
Oh! how the merciless priest of Rome then becomes eloquent in depicting celibacy
as the only way to heaven, or in showing the eternal fires of hell ready to
receive cowards and traitors who, after having put their hand to the plough of
celibacy, look back! He speaks of the disappointment and sadness of so many dear
friends, who expected better things of them. He points out to them their own
shame when they will again be in a world which will have nothing for them but
sneers for their want of perseverance and courage. He overwhelms them with a
thousand pious lies about the miracles wrought by Christ in favour of his
virgins and priests. He bewitches them by numerous texts of Scripture, which he
brings as evident proof of the will of God in favour of their taking the vows of
celibacy, though they have not the slightest reference to such vows.
The text of which the strangest abuses are made by the superiors to persuade the
young people of both sexes to bind themselves by those shameful vows is Matthew
xix. 12, 13, "For there are eunuchs which were born from their mother's
womb; and there are some eunuchs which were made eunuchs of men; and there are
eunuchs which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's sake. He
that is able to receive it, let him receive it."
Upon one occasion our superior made a very pressing appeal to our religious
feelings from this text, to induce us to make the vow of celibacy and become
priests. But the address, though delivered with a great deal of zeal, seemed to
us deficient in logic.
The next day was a day of rest (conge). The students in theology who were
preparing themselves for the priesthood, with me, talked seriously of the
singular arguments of the last address. It seemed to them that the conclusions
could not in any way be drawn from the selected text, and therefore determined
to respectfully present their objections and their views, which were also mine,
to the superior; and I was chosen to speak for them all.
At the next conference, after respectfully asking and obtaining permission to
express our objections with our own frank and plain sentiments, I spoke about as
follows:
"Dear and venerable sir: You told us that the following words of Christ,
`There be eunuchs which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's
sake,' show us evidently that we must make the vow of celibacy and make
ourselves eunuchs if we want to become priests. Allow us to tell you
respectfully, that it seems to us that the mind of our Saviour was very
different from yours when He pronounced these words. In our humble opinion, the
only object of the Son of God was to warn His disciples against one of the most
damnable errors which were to endanger the very existence of nations. He was
foretelling that there would be men so wicked and blind as to preach that the
best way for men to go to heaven would be to make eunuchs of themselves. Allow
us to draw your attention to the fact that in that speech Jesus Christ neither
approves or disapproves of the idea of gaining a throne in heaven by becoming
eunuchs. He leaves us to our common sense and to some clearer parts of Scripture
to see whether or not He approves of those who would make eunuchs of themselves
to gain a crown in heaven. Must we not interpret this text as we interpret what
Jesus said to His apostles, `The time cometh that whosoever killeth you will
think that he doeth God service' (John xvi. 1,2).
Allow us to put these two texts fact to face:
"'There are eunuchs which have "'The time cometh that whosoever made
themselves eunuchs for the killeth you will think that he kingdom of heaven's
sake' doeth God service' (Matt. xix. 12,13.) (John xvi. l,2).
"Because our Saviour has said that there would be men who would think that
they would please God (and of course gain a place in heaven) by killing His
disciples, are we, therefore, allowed to conclude that it would be our duty to
kill those who believe and follow Christ? Surely not!
"Well, it seems to us that we are not to believe that the best way to go to
heaven is to make ourselves eunuchs, because our Saviour said that some men had
got that criminal and foolish notion into their mind!
"Christian nations have always looked with horror upon those who have
voluntarily become eunuchs. Common sense, as well as the Word of God, condemns
those who thus destroy in their own bodies that which God in His wisdom gave
them for the wisest and holiest purposes. Would it not, therefore, be a crime
which every civilized and Christian nation would punish, to preach publicly and
with success to the people that one of the surest ways for man to go to heaven
would be to make himself a eunuch. How can we believe that our Saviour could
ever sanction and such a practice?
"Moreover, if being eunuchs would make the way to heaven surer and more
easy, would not God be unjust for depriving us of the privilege of being born
eunuchs, and thus being made ripe fruits for heaven?
"It seems to us that that text does not in any way require us to believe
that an eunuch is nearer the kingdom of God than He who lives just according to
the laws which God gave to man in the earthly paradise. If it was not good for
man to be without his wife when he was so holy and strong as he was in the
Garden of Eden, how can it be good now that he is so weak and sinful? "Our
Saviour clearly shows that He finds no sanctifying power in the state of an
eunuch, in His answer to the young man who asked Him, `Good Master, what must I
do that I may have eternal life?" (Matt. xix. 16). Did the good Master
answer him in the language we heard from you two days ago, namely, that the best
way to have eternal life is to make yourself an eunuch make a solemn vow never
to marry? No; but He said, `Keep the commandments!' But where is the commandment
of God, in the Old or New Testament, to induce us to make such a vow as that of
celibacy? The promise of a place in heaven is not attached in any way to the vow
of celibacy. Christ has not a word about that doctrine.
"Allow us to respectfully ask, if the views concerning the vows of celibacy
entertained by Christ had been like yours, is it possible that He would have
forgotten to mention them when He answered the solemn question of that young
man? Is it possible that He would not have said a single word about a thing
which you have represented to us as being of such vital importance to those who
sincerely desire to know what to do to be saved? Is it not strange that the
Church should attach such an importance to that vow of celibacy, when we look in
vain for such an ordinance in both the Old and New Testaments? How can we
understand the reasons or the importance of such a strict and, we dare say,
unnatural obligation in our day, when we know very well that the holy apostles
themselves were living with their wives, and that the Saviour had not a word of
rebuke for them on that account?"
This free expression of our common views on the vows of celibacy evidently took
our superior by surprise. He answered me, with an accent of indignation which he
could not suppress: "Is that all you have to say?"
"It is not quite all we have to say," I answered; "but before we
go further we would be much gratified to receive from you the light we want on
the difficulties which I have just stated."
"You have spoken as a true heretic," replied Mr. Leprohon, with an
unusual vivacity; "and were it not for the hope which I entertain that you
have said these things to receive the light you want than to present and support
the heretical side of such an important question, I would at once denounce you
to the bishop. You speak of the Holy Scriptures just as a Protestant would do.
You appeal to them as the only source of Christian truth and knowledge. Have you
forgotten that we have the holy traditions to guide us, the authority of which
is equal to that of the Scriptures?
"You are correct when you say that we do not find any direct proof in the
Bible to enforce the vows of celibacy upon those who desire to consecrate
themselves to the service of the Church. But if we do not find the obligation of
that vow in the Bible, we find it in the holy traditions of the Church.
"It is an article of faith that the vow of celibacy is ordered by Jesus
Christ, through His Church. The ordinances of the Church, which are nothing but
the ordinances of the Son of God, are clear on that subject, and bind our
consciences just as the commandments of God upon Mount Sinai; for Christ has
said, those who do not hear the Church must be looked upon as heathen and
publicans. There is no salvation to those who do not submit their reason to the
teachings of the Church.
"You are not required to understand all the reasons for the vow of
celibacy; but you are bound to believe in its necessity and holiness, as the
Church has pronounced her verdict upon that question. It is not your business to
argue about those matters; but your duty is to obey the Church, as dutiful
children obey a kind mother.
"But who can have any doubt about the necessity of the vows of celibacy,
when we remember that Christ had ordered His apostles to separate themselves
from their wives? a fact on which no doubt can remain after hearing St. Peter
say to our Saviour, `Behold, we have forsaken all and follow Thee; what shall we
have, therefore?' (Matt. xix. 27). Is not the priest the true representative of
Christ on earth? In his ordination, is not the priest made the equal and in a
sense the superior of Christ? for when he celebrates Mass he commands Christ,
and that very Son of God is bound to obey! It is not in the power of Christ to
resist the orders of the priest. He must come down from heaven every time the
priest orders Him. The priest shuts Him up in the holy tabernacles or takes Him
out of them, according to his own will.
"By becoming priests of the New Testament you will be raised to a dignity
which is much above that of angels. From these sublime privileges flows the
obligation to the priest to raise himself to a degree of holiness much above the
level of the common people a holiness equal to that of the angels. Has not our
Saviour, when speaking of the angels, said, `Neque nubent neque nubentur?' They
marry not, nor are given in marriage. Surely, since the priests are the
messengers and angels of God, on earth they must be clad with angelic holiness
and purity.
"Does not Paul say that the state of virginity is superior to that of
marriage? Does not that saying of the apostle show that the priest, whose hands
every day touch the divine body and blood of Christ, must be chaste and pure,
and must not be defiled by the duties of married life? That vow of celibacy is
like a holy chain, which keeps us above the filth of this earth and ties us to
heaven. Jesus Christ, through His Holy Church, commands that vow to His priests
as the most efficacious remedy against the inclinations of our corrupt nature.
"According to the holy Fathers, the vow of celibacy is like a strong high
tower, from the top of which we can fight our enemies, and be perfectly safe
from their darts and weapons.
"I will be happy to answer you other objections, if you have any
more," said Mr. Leprohon.
"We are much obliged to you for your answers," I replied, "and we
will avail ourselves of your kindness to present you with some other
observations.
"And, firstly, we thank you for having told us that we find nothing in the
Word of God to support the vows of celibacy, and that it is only by the
traditions of the Church that we can prove their necessity and holiness. It was
our impression that you desired us to believe that the necessity of that vow was
founded on the Holy Scriptures. If you allow it, we will discuss the traditions
another time, and will confine ourselves today to the different texts to which
you referred in favour of celibacy.
"When Peter says, `We have given up everything,' it seems to us that he had
no intention of saying that he had for ever given up his wife by a vow. For St.
Paul positively says, many years after, that Peter had his wife; that he was not
only living with her in his own house, but was traveling with her when preaching
the gospel. The words of Scripture are of such evidence on that subject that
they can neither be obscured by any shrewd explanation nor by any tradition,
however respectable it may appear.
"Though you know the words of Paul on that subject, you will allow us to
read them: `Have we not power to eat and drink? have we not power to lead about
a sister, a wife, as well as other apostles and as the brethren of the Lord, and
Cephas?' (I Cor. ix. 4, 5). St. Peter saying `We have forsaken everything' could
not then mean that he had made a vow of celibacy, and that he would never live
with his wife as a married man. Evidently the words of Peter mean only that
Jesus had the first place in his heart that everything else, even the dearest
objects of his love, as father, mother, wife, were only secondary in his
affections and thoughts.
"Your other text about the angels who do not marry, from which you infer
the obligation and law on the vow of celibacy, does not seem to us to bear on
that subject as much as you have told us. For, be kind enough to again read the
text: `Jesus answered and said to them, Ye do err, not knowing the Scriptures,
nor the power of God. For in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given
in marriage; but are as the angels of God in heaven' (Matt. xxii. 29, 30). You
see that when our Saviour speaks of men who are like angels, and who do not
marry, He takes care to observe that He speaks of the state of men after the
resurrection. If the Church had the same rule for us that Christ mentioned for
the angelic men to whom He refers, and would allow us to make a vow never to
marry after the resurrection, we would not have the slightest objection to such
a vow.
"You see that our Saviour speaks of a state of celibacy; but He does not
intimate that that state is to begin on this side of the grave. Why does not our
Church imitate and follow the teachings of our Saviour? Why does she enforce a
state of celibacy before the resurrection, while Christ postpones the
promulgation of this law till after that great day?
"Christ speaks of a perpetual celibacy only in heaven! On what authority,
then, does our Church enforce that celibacy on this side of the grave, when we
still carry our souls in earthly vessels?
"You tell us that the vow of celibacy is the best remedy against the
inclinations of our corrupt nature; but do you not fear that your remedy makes
war against the great one which God prepared in His wisdom? Do we not read in
our own vulgate: `Propter fornicationem autem unus quisque uxorem snam habeat,
et unaquaque virum suum'? "To avoid fornication let every man have his own
wife, and let every woman have her own husband' (2 Cor. vii. 2).
"Is it not too strange, indeed, that God does tell us that the best remedy
He had prepared against the inclinations of our corrupt nature is in the
blessings of a holy marriage. `Let every man have his own wife, and every woman
her own husband.' But now our Church has found another remedy, which is more
accordant to the dignity of man and the holiness of God, and that remedy is the
vow of celibacy!"
The sound of my last words were still on my lips when our venerable superior,
unable any longer to conceal his indignation, abruptly interrupted me, saying:
"I do exceedingly regret to have allowed you to go so far. This is not a
Christian and humble discussion between young Levites and their superior, to
receive from him the light they want. It is the exposition and defense of the
most heretical doctrines I have ever heard. Are you ashamed, when you try to
make us prefer your interpretation of the Holy Scriptures to that of the Church?
Is it to you, or to His holy Church, that Christ promised the light of the Holy
Ghost? It is you who have to teach the Church, or the Church who must teach you?
Is it you who will govern and guide the Church, or the Church who will govern
and guide you?
"My dear Chiniquy, if there is not a great and prompt change in you and in
those whom you pretend to represent, I fear much for you all. You show a spirit
of infidelity and revolt which frightens me. Just like Lucifer, you rebel
against the Lord! Do you not fear to share the eternal pains of his rebellion?
"Whence have you taken the false and heretical notions you have, for
instance, about the wives of the apostles? Do you not know that you are
supporting a Protestant error, when you say that the apostles were living with
their wives in the usual way of married people? It is true that Paul says that
the apostles had women with them, and that they were even traveling with them.
But the holy traditions of the Church tell us that those women were holy
virgins, who were traveling with the apostles to serve and help them in
different ways. They were ministering to their different wants washing their
underclothes, preparing their meals, just like the housekeeper whom the priests
have today. It is a Protestant impiety to think and speak otherwise.
"But only a word more, and I am done. If you accept the teaching of the
Church, and submit yourselves as dutiful children to that most holy Mother, she
will raise you to the dignity of the priesthood, a dignity much above kings and
emperors in this world. If you serve her with fidelity, she will secure to you
the respect and veneration of the whole world while you live, and procure your a
crown of glory in heaven.
"But if you reject her doctrines, and persist in your rebellious views
against one of the most holy dogmas; if you continue to listen to the voice of
your own deceitful reason rather than to the voice of the Church, in the
interpretation of the Holy Scriptures, you become heretics, apostates and
Protestants; you will lead a dishonoured life in this world, and you will be
lost for all eternity."
Our superior left us immediately after these fulminating words. Some of the
theological students, after this exit, laughed heartily, and thanked me for
having so bravely fought and gained so glorious a victory. Two of them,
disgusted by the sophisms and logical absurdities of our superior, left the
seminary a few days after. The rest, with me had not the moral courage to follow
their example, but remained, stunned by the last words of our superior.
I went to my room and fell on my knees, with a torrent of tears falling from my
eyes. I was really sorry for having wounded his feelings, but still more so for
having dared for a moment to oppose my own feeble and fallible reason to the
mighty and infallible intelligence of my Church!
At first it appeared to me that I was only combating, in a respectful way,
against my old friend, Rev. Mr. Leprohon; but I had received it from his own
lips that I had really fought against the Lord!
After spending a long and dark night of anguish and remorse, my first action,
the next day, was to go to confession, and ask my confessor, with tears of
regret, pardon for the sin I had committed and the scandal I had given.
Had I listened to the voices of my conscience, I certainly would have left the
seminary that day; for they told me that I had confounded my superior and
pulverized all his arguments. Reason and conscience told me that the vow of
celibacy was a sin against logic, morality and God; that that vow could not be
sustained by any argument from the Holy Scriptures, logic or common sense. But I
was a most sincere Roman Catholic. I had therefore to fight a new battle against
my conscience and intelligence, so as to subdue and silence them for ever! Many
a time it was my hope, before this, to have succeeded in slaughtering them at
the foot of the altar of my Church; but that day, far from being for ever
silenced and buried, they had come out again with renewed force, to waken me
from the terrible illusions in which I was living. Nevertheless, after a long
and frightful battle, my hope was that they were perfectly subdued and buried
under the feet of the holy Fathers, the learned theologians and the venerable
popes, whose voice I was determined now to follow. I felt a real calm after that
struggle. It was evidently the silence of death, although my confessor told me
it was the peace of God. More than ever I determined to have no knowledge, no
thought, no will, no light, no desires, no science but that which my Church
would give me through my superior. I was fallible, she was infallible! I was a
sinner, she was the immaculate spouse of Jesus Christ! I was weak, she had more
power than the great waters of the ocean! I was but an atom, she was covering
the world with her glory! What, therefore, could I have to fear in humbling
myself at her feet, to live of her life, to be strong of her strength, wise of
her wisdom, holy with her holiness? Had not my superior repeatedly told me that
no error, no sin would be imputed to me as long as I obeyed my Church and walked
in her ways?
With these sentiments of a most profound and perfect respect for my Church, I
irrevocably consecrated myself to her services on the 4th of May, 1832, by
making the vow of celibacy and accepting the office of sub-deacon.
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CHAPTER 15 Back
to Top
"The mother of harlots and abominations." Rev. xvii. 5.
Constrained by the voice of my conscience to reveal the
impurities of the theology of the Church of Rome, I feel, in doing so, a
sentiment of inexpressible shame. They are of such a loathsome nature, that
often they cannot be expressed in any living language.
However great may have been the corruptions in the theologies and priests of
paganism, there is nothing in their records which can be compared with the
depravity of those of the Church of Rome. Before the day on which the theology
of Rome was inspired by Satan, the world had certainly witnessed many dark
deeds; but vice had never been clothed with the mantle of theology: the most
shameful forms of iniquity had never been publicly taught in the schools of the
old pagan priest, under the pretext of saving the world. No! neither had the
priests nor the idols been forced to attend meetings where the most degrading
forms of iniquity were objects of the most minute study, and that under the
pretext of glorifying God.
Let those who understand Latin read "The Priest, the Women, and the
Confessional," and decide as to whether or not the sentiments therein
contained are not enough to shock the feelings of the most depraved. And let it
be remembered that all those abominations have to be studied, learned by heart
and thoroughly understood by men who have to make a vow never to marry! For it
is not till after his vow of celibacy that the student in theology is initiated
into those mysteries of iniquity.
Has the world ever witnessed such a sacrilegious comedy? A young man about
twenty years of age has been enticed to make a vow of perpetual celibacy, and
the very next day the Church of Rome put under the eye of his soul the most
infamous spectacle! She fills his memory with the most disgusting images! She
tickles all his senses and pollutes his ears, not by imaginary representations,
but by realities which would shock the most abandoned in vice!
For, let it be well understood, that it is absolutely impossible for one to
study those questions of Roman Theology, and fathom those forms of iniquity
without having his body as well as his mind plunged into a state the most
degrading. Moreover, Rome does not even try to conceal the overwhelming power of
this kind of teaching; she does not even attempt to make it a secret from the
victims of her incomparable depravity, but bravely tells them that the study of
those questions will act with an irresistible power upon their organs, and
without a blush says, "that pollution must follow!!!"
But in order that the Church of Rome may more certainly destroy her victims, and
that they may not escape from the abyss which she has dug under their feet, she
tells them, "There is no sin for you in those pollutions!" (Dens, vol.
i. p. 315.)
But Rome must bewitch so as the better to secure their destruction. She puts to
their lips the cup of her enchantments, the more certainly to kill their souls,
dethrones God from their consciences, and abrogates His eternal laws of
holiness. What answer does Rome give to those who reproach her with the awful
impurity of theology. "My theological works," she answers, "are
all written in Latin; the people cannot read them. No evil, no scandal,
therefore, can come from them!" But this answer is a miserable subterfuge.
Is this not the public acknowledgment that her theology would be exceedingly
injurious to the people if it were read and understood by them?
By saying, "My theological works are written in Latin, therefore the people
cannot be defiled, as they do not understand them," Rome does acknowledge
that these works would only act as a pestilence among the people, were they read
and understood by them. But are not the one hundred thousand priests of Rome
bound to explain in every known tongue, and present to the mind of every nation,
the theology contained in those books? Are they not bound to make every
polluting sentence in them flow into the ears, imaginations, hearts and minds of
all the married and unmarried women whom Rome holds in her grasp?
I exaggerate nothing when I say that not fewer than half a million women every
day are compelled to hear in their own language, almost every polluting sentence
and impure notion of the diabolical sciences.
And here I challenge, most fearlessly, the Church of Rome to deny what I say,
when I state that the daily average of women who go to confession to each
priest, is ten. But let us reduce the number to five. Then the one hundred
thousand priest who are scattered over the whole world, hear the confession of
five hundred thousand women every day! Well, now, out of one hundred women who
confess, there are at least ninety-nine whom the priest is bound in conscience
to pollute, by questioning them on the matters mentioned in the Latin pages at
the end of this chapter. How can one be surprised at the rapid downfall of the
nations who are under the yoke of the Pope.
The public statistics of the European, as well of American nations, show that
there is among Roman Catholics nearly double the amount of prostitution,
bastardy, theft, perjury, and murder than is found among Protestant nations.
Where must we, then, look for the cause of those stupendous facts, if not in the
corrupt teachings of the theology of Rome. How can the Roman Catholic nations
hope to raise themselves in the scale of Christian dignity and morality as long
as there remain one hundred thousand priests in their midst, bound in conscience
every day to pollute the minds and the hearts of their mothers, their wives and
their daughters!
And here let me say, once for all, that I am not induced to speak as I do from
any motive of contempt or unchristian feeling against the theological professors
who have initiated me into those mysteries of iniquity. The Rev. Messrs.
Raimbault and Leprohon were, and in my mind they still are, as respectable as
men can be in the Church of Rome. As I have been myself, and as all the priests
of Rome are, they were plunged without understanding it, into the abyss of the
most stolid ignorance. They were crushed, as I was myself, under a yoke which
bound their understanding to the dust, and polluted their hearts without
measure. We were embarked together on a ship, the first appearance of which was
really magnificent, but the bottom of which was irremediably rotten. Without the
true Pilot on board we were left to perish on unknown shoals. Out of this
sinking ship the hand of God alone, in His providence rescued me. I pity those
friends of my youth, but despise them? hate them? No! Never! Never!
Every time out theological teachers gave us our lessons, it was evident that
they blushed in the inmost part of their souls. Their consciences as honest men
were evidently forbidding them, on the one hand, to open their mouths on such
matters, while, on the other hand, as slaves and priests of the Pope, they were
compelled to speak without reserve.
After our lessons in theology, we students used to be filled with such a
sentiment of shame that sometimes we hardly dared to look at each other: and,
when alone in our rooms, those horrible pictures were affecting our hearts, in
spite of ourselves, as the rust affects and corrodes the hardest and purest
steel. More than one of my fellow-students told me, with tears of shame and
rage, that they regretted to have bound themselves by perpetual oaths to
minister at the altars of the Church.
One day one of the students, called Desaulnier, who was sick in the same room
with me, asked me: "Chiniquy, what do you think of the matters which are
the objects of our present theological studies? Is it not a burning shame that
we must allow our minds to be so polluted?"
"I cannot sufficiently tell you my feelings of disgust," I answered.
"Had I known sooner that we were to be dragged over such a ground, I
certainly never would have nailed my future to the banners under which we are
irrevocably bound to live." "Do you know," said Desaulnier,
"that I am determined never to consent to be ordained a priest; for when I
think of the fact that the priest is bound to confer with women on all of these
polluting matters, I feel an insurmountable disgust and shame."
"I am not less troubled," I replied. "My head aches and my heart
sinks within me when I hear our theologians telling us that we will be in
conscience bound to speak to females on these impure subjects. But sometimes
this looks to me as if it were a bad dream, the impure phantoms of which will
disappear at the first awakening. Our Church, which is so pure and holy that she
can only be served by the spotless virgins, surely cannot compel us to pollute
our lips, thoughts, souls, and even our bodies, by speaking to strange women on
matters so defiling!"
"But we are near the hour at which the good Mr. Leprohon is in the habit of
visiting us. Will you," I said, "promise to stand by me in what I will
ask him on this subject? I hope to get from him a pledge that we will not be
compelled to be polluted in the confessional by the women who will confess to
us. The purity and holiness of our superior is of such a high character, that I
am sure he has never said a word to females on those degrading matters. In spite
of all the theologians, Mr. Leprohon will allow us to keep our tongues and our
hearts, as well as our bodies, pure in the confessional."
"I have had the desire to speak to him upon this subject for some
time," rejoined Desaulnier, "but my courage failed me every time I
attempted to do so. I am glad, therefore, that you are to break the ice, and I
will certainly support you, as I have a longing desire to know something more in
regard to the mysteries of the confessional. If we are at liberty never to speak
to women on these horrors, I will consent to serve the Church as a priest; but
if not, I will never be a priest."
A few minutes after this our superior entered to kindly enquire how we had
rested the night before. Having thanked him for his kindness, I opened the
volumes of Dens and Liguori which were on our table, and, with a blush, putting
my fingers on one of the infamous chapters referred to, I said to him:
"After God, you have the first place in my heart since my mother's death,
and you know it. I take you, not only as my benefactor, but also, as it were, as
my father and mother. You will therefore tell me all I want to know in these my
hours of anxiety, through which God is pleased to make me pass. To follow your
advice, not to say your commands, I have lately consented to receive the order
of sub-deacon, and I have in consequence taken the vow of perpetual celibacy.
But I will not conceal the fact from you, I had not a clear understanding of
what I was doing; and Desaulnier has just stated to me, that until recently he
had no more idea of the nature of that promise, nor of the difficulties which we
now see ahead of us in our priestly life than I had.
"But Dens, Liguori and St. Thomas have given us notions quite new in regard
to many things. They have directed our minds to the knowledge of the laws which
are in us, as well as in every other child of Adam. They have, in a word,
directed our minds into regions which were quite new and unexplored by us; and I
dare say that every one of those whom we have known, whether in this house or
elsewhere, who have made the same vow, could tell you the same tale.
"However, I do not speak for them; I speak only for myself and Desaulnier.
For God's sake, please tell us if we will be bound in conscience to speak in the
confessional, to the married and unmarried females, on such impure and defiling
questions as are contained in the theologians before us?"
"Most undoubtedly," replied Rev. Mr. Leprohon; "because the
learned and holy theologians whose writings are in your hands are positive on
that question. It is absolutely necessary that you should question your female
penitents on such matters; for, as a general thing, girls and married women are
too timid to confess those sins, of which they are even more frequently guilty
than men, therefore they must be helped by questioning them."
"But have you not," I rejoined, "induced us to make an oath that
we should always remain pure and undefiled? How is it then, that today you put
us in such a position that it is almost impossibility for us to be true to our
sacred promise? For the theologians are unanimous that those questions put by us
to our female penitents, together with the recital of their secret sins, will
act with such an irresistible power upon us that we will be polluted.
"Would it not be better for us to experience those things in the holy bonds
of marriage, with our wives, and according to the laws of God, than in company
and conversation with strange women? Because, if we are to believe the
theologians which are in our hands, no priest not even you, my dear Mr. Leprohon
can hear the confessions of women without being defiled."
Here Desaulnier interrupted me, and said: "My dear Mr. Leprohon, I concur
in everything Chiniquy has just been telling you. Would we not be more chaste
and pure by living with our lawful wives, than by daily exposing ourselves in
the confessional in company of women whose presence will irresistibly drag us
into the most shameful pit of impurity? I ask you, my dear sir, what will become
of my vow of perfect and perpetual chastity, when the seducing presence of my
neighbour's wife, or the enchanting words of his daughter, will have defiled me
through the confessional. After all, I may be looked upon by the people as a
chaste man; but what will I be in the eyes of God? The people may entertain the
thought that I am a strong and honest man; but will I not be a broken reed? Will
God not be the witness that the irresistible temptations which will have
assailed me when hearing the secret sins of some sweet and tempting woman, will
have deprived me of that glorious crown of chastity for which I have so dearly
paid? Men will think that I am an angel of purity; but my own conscience will
tell me that I am nothing but a skillful hypocrite. For according to all the
theologians, the confessional is the tomb of the chastity of priests!! If I hear
the confession of women, I will be like all other priests, in a tomb, well
painted and gilded on the outside, but within full or corruption."
Francis Desaulnier, just as he had foretold me, refused to be a priest. He
remained all his life in the orders of sub-deaconate, in the College of Nicolet,
as a Professor of Philosophy. He was a man who seldom spoke in conversation, but
thought very much. It seems to me that I still see him there, under that tall
centenary tree, alone, during the long hours of intermission, and many long days
during our holidays, while the rest of the students passed hither and thither,
singing and playing, on the enchanting banks of the river of Nicolet.
He was a good logician and a profound mathematician; and although affable to
everyone, he was not communicative. I was probably the only one to whom he
opened his mind concerning the great questions of Christianity faith, history,
the Church and her discipline. He repeatedly said to me: "I wish I had
never opened a book of theology. Our theologians are without heart, soul or
logic. Many of them approve of theft, lies and perjury; others drag us without a
blush, into the most filthy pits of iniquity. Every one of them would like to
make an assassin of every Catholic. According to their doctrine, Christ is
nothing but a Corsican brigand, whose blood-thirsty disciples are bound to
destroy all the heretics with fire and sword. Were we acting according to the
principles of those theologians, we would slaughter all Protestants with the
same coolness of blood as we would shoot down the wolf which crosses our path.
With their hand still reddened with the blood of St. Bartholomew, they speak to
us of charity, religion and God, as if there were neither of them in the
world."
Desaulnier was looked upon as "un homme singulier" at Nicolet. He was
really an exception to all the men in the seminary. For example: Though it was
the usage and the law that ecclesiastics should receive the communion every
month, and upon every great feast day of the Church, yet he would scarcely take
the communion once a year. But let me return to the interview with our superior.
Desaulnier's fearless and energetic words had evidently made a very painful
impression upon our superior. It was not a usual thing for His disciples in
theology thus to take upon themselves to speak with such freedom as we both did
on this occasion. He did not conceal his pain at what he called our unbecoming
and unchristian attack upon some of the most holy ordinances of the Church; and
after he had refuted Desaulnier in the best way he could, he turned to me and
said: "My dear Chiniquy, I have repeatedly warned you against the habit you
have of listening to your own frail reasoning, when you should only obey as a
dutiful child. Were we to believe you, we would immediately set ourselves to
work to reform the Church and abolish the confession of women to priests; we
would throw all our theological books into the fire and have new one written,
better adapted to your fancy. What does all this prove? Only one thing, and that
is, that the devil of pride is tempting you as he has tempted all the so-called
Reformers, and destroyed them as he would you. If you do not take care, you will
become another Luther!
"The Theological books of St. Thomas, Liguori and Dens have been approved
by the Church. How, therefore, do you not see the ridicule and danger of your
position. On one side, then, I see all our holy popes, the two thousand Catholic
bishops, all our learned theologians and priests, backed up by over two hundred
millions of Roman Catholics drawn up as an innumerable army to fight the battles
of the Lord; and on the other side what do I see? Nothing by my small, though
very dear Chiniquy!
"How, then, is it that you do not fear, when with your weak reasoning you
oppose the mighty reasoning and light of so many holy popes, and venerable
bishops and learned theologians? Is it not just as absurd for you to try to
reform the Church by your small reason, as it is for the grain of sand which is
found at the foot of the great mountain to try to turn that mighty mountain out
of its place? or for the small drop of water to attempt to throw the boundless
ocean out of its bed, or try to oppose the running tides of the Polar seas?
"Believe me, and take my friendly advice," continued our superior,
"before it is too late. Let the small grain of sand remain still at the
foot of the majestic mountain; and let the humble drop of water consent to
follow the irresistible currents of the boundless seas, and everything will be
in order.
"All the good priests who have heard the confessions of women before us
have been satisfied and have had their souls saved, even when their bodies were
polluted; for those carnal pollutions are nothing but human miseries, which
cannot defile a soul which desires to remain united to God. Are the rays of the
sun defiled by coming down into the mud? No! The rays remain pure, and return
spotless to the shining orb whence they came. So the heart of a good priest as I
hope my dear Chiniquy will be will remain pure and holy in spite of the
accidental and unavoidable defilement of the flesh.
"Apart from these things, in your ordination you will receive a special
grace which will change you into another man; and the Virgin Mary, to whom you
will constantly address yourself, will obtain for you a perfect purity from her
Son.
"The defilement of the flesh spoken of by the theologians, and which, I
confess, is unavoidable when hearing the confessions of women, must not trouble
you; for they are not sinful, as Dens and Liguori assure us. (Dens. vol. i.,
pages 299, 300.)
"But enough on that subject. I forbid you to speak to me any more on those
idle questions, and, as much as my authority is anything to you both, I forbid
you to say a word more to each other on that matter!!"
It was my fond hope that my dear and so much venerated Mr. Leprohon would answer
me with some good and reasonable arguments; but he, to my surprise, silenced the
voice of our conscience by un coup d'etat.
Nevertheless, the idea of that miserable grain of sand which so ridiculously
attempted to remove the stately mountain, and also of that all but imperceptible
drop of water which attempted to oppose itself to the onward motion of the vast
ocean, singularly struck and humbled me. I remained silent and confused, though
not convinced.
This was not all. Those rays of the sun, which could not be defiled even when
going down into the mud, after bewildering one by their glittering appearance,
left my soul more in the dark than ever. I could not resist the presentiment
that I was in the presence of an imposition, and of a glittering sophism. But I
had neither sufficient learning, moral courage, nor grace from God clearly to
see through that misty cloud and to expel it from my mind.
Almost every month of the ten years which I had passed in the seminary of
Nicolet, priests of the district of Three Rivers and elsewhere were sent by the
bishops to spend two or three weeks in doing penances for having bastards by
their nieces, their housekeepers, or their fair penitents. Even not long before
this conversation with our director, the curate of St. Francois, the Rev. Mr.
Amiot, had in the very same week two children by two of his fair penitents, both
of whom were sisters. One of those girls gave birth to her child at the
parsonage the very night on which the bishop was on his episcopal visit to that
parish. These public and undeniable facts were not much in harmony with those
beautiful theories of our venerable director concerning the rays of the sun,
which "remained pure and undefiled even when warming and vivifying the mud
of our planet." The facts had frequently occurred to my mind while Mr.
Leprohon was speaking, and I was tempted more than once to ask him respectfully
if he really thought these "shining rays," the priests, had thus come
into the mire, and would then return, like the rays of the sun, without taking
back with them something of the mire in which they had been so strangely
wallowing. But my respect for Mr. Leprohon sealed my lips.
When I returned to my room I fell on my knees to ask God to pardon me for
having, for the moment, thought otherwise than the popes and theologians of
Rome. I again felt angry with myself for having dared, for a single moment, to
have arrayed my poor little and imperceptible grain of sand drop of water and
personal and contemptible understanding against that sublime mountain of
strength, that vast ocean of learning, and that immensely divine wisdom of the
popes!
But, alas! I was not yet aware that when Jesus in His mercy sends into a
perishing soul a single ray of His grace, that there is more light and wisdom in
that soul than in all the popes and their theologians!
I was then taught what the real foundation of the Church of Rome is, and
sincerely believed that to think for myself was a damnable impiety that to look
and see with my own eyes, and understand with my own mind, was an unpardonable
sin. To be saved I had to believe, not what I considered to be the truth, but
what the popes told me to be the truth. I had to look and see every object of
faith, just as every true Roman Catholic of today has to look and see the same,
through the Pope's eyes or those of his theologians.
However absurd and impious this belief may be, yet it was mine, and it is also
the belief of every true member of the Church of Rome today. The glorious light
and grace of God could not possibly flow directly from Him to me; they had to
pass through the Pope and his Church, which were my only mountain of strength
and only ocean of light. It was, then, my firm belief that there was an
impassable abyss between myself and God, and that the Pope and his Church were
the only bridge by which I could have communication with Him. That stupendously
high and most sublime mountain, the Pope, was between myself and God: and all
that was allowed my poor soul was to raise itself and travel with great
difficulty till it attained the foot of that holy mountain, the Pope, and,
prostrating itself there in the dust, ask him to let me know what my yet distant
God would have me to do. The promises of mercy, truth, light, and life were all
vested in this great mountain, the Pope, from whom alone they could descend upon
my poor soul!
Darkness, ignorance, uncertainty, and eternal loss were my lot, the very moment
I ceased worshiping at the feet of the Pope! The God of Heaven was not my God;
He was only the God of the Pope! The Saviour of the world was not my Saviour; He
was only the Pope's. Therefore it was through the Pope only that I could receive
Christ as my Saviour, and to the Pope alone had I to go to know the way, the
truth, and the life of my soul!
God alone knows what a dark and terrible night I passed after this meeting! I
had again to smother my conscience, dismantle my reason, and bring them all
under the turpitudes of the theologies of Rome, which are so well calculated to
keep the world fettered in ignorance and superstition.
But God saw the tears with which I bedewed my pillow that night. He heard the
cry of my agonizing soul, and in His infinite love and mercy determined to come
to my rescue, and save me. If He saw fit to leave me many years more in the
slavery of Egypt, it was that I might better know the plagues of that land of
darkness, and the iron chains which are there prepared for poor lost souls.
When the hour of my deliverance came, the Lord took me by the hand and helped me
to cross the Red Sea. He brought me to the Land of Promise a land of peace,
life, and joy which passeth all understanding.
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CHAPTER 16 Back
to Top
There are several imposing ceremonies at the ordination of a
priest; and I will never forget the joy I felt when the Roman Pontiff,
presenting to me the Bible, ordered me, with a solemn voice, to study and preach
it. That order passed through my soul as a beam of light. But, alas! those rays
of light and life were soon to be followed, as a flash of lightning in a stormy
night, by the most sudden and distressing darkness!
When holding the sacred volume, I accepted with unspeakable joy the command of
studying and preaching its saving truth; but I felt as if a thunderbolt had
fallen upon me when I pronounced the awful oath which is required from every
priest: "I will never interpret the Holy Scriptures except according to the
unanimous consent of the Holy Fathers."
Many times, with the other students in theology, I had discussed the nature of
that strange oath; still more often, in the silence of my meditations, alone in
the presence of God, I had tried to fathom the bottomless abyss which, it seemed
to me, was dug under my feet by it, and every time my conscience had shrunk in
terror from its consequences. But I was not the only one in the seminary who
contemplated, with an anxious mind, its evidently blasphemous nature.
About six months before our ordination, Stephen Baillargeon, one of my fellow
theological students, had said in my presence to our superior, the Rev. Mr.
Raimbault: "Allow me to tell you that one of the things with which I cannot
reconcile my conscience is the solemn oath we will have to take, `That we will
never interpret the Scriptures except according to the unanimous consent of the
Holy Fathers! We have not given a single hour yet to the serious study of the
Holy Fathers. I know many priests, and not a single one of them has ever studied
the Holy Fathers; they have not even got them in their libraries! We will
probably walk in their footsteps. It may be that not a single volume of the Holy
Fathers will ever fall into our hands! In the name of common sense, how can we
swear that we will follow the sentiments of men of whom we know absolutely
nothing, and about whom, it is more probable, we will never know anything,
except by mere vague hearsay?"
Our superior gave evident signs of weakness in his answer to that unexpected
difficulty. But his embarrassment grew much greater when I said: "Baillargeon
cannot contemplate that oath without anxiety, and he has given you some of his
reasons; but he has not said the last word on that strange oath. If you will
allow me, Mr. Superior, I will present you some more formidable objections. It
is not so much on account of our ignorance of the doctrines of the Holy Fathers
that I tremble when I think I will have `to swear never to interpret the
Scriptures, except according to their unanimous consent.' Would to God that I
could say, with Baillargeon, `I know nothing of the Holy Fathers: how can I
swear they will guide me in all my ways?' It is true that we know so little of
them that it is supremely ridiculous, if it is not an insult to God and man,
that we take them for our guides. But my regret is that we know already too much
of the Holy Fathers to be exempt from perjuring ourselves, when we swear that we
will not interpret the Holy Scriptures except according to their unanimous
consent.
"Is it not a fact that the Holy Fathers' writings are so perfectly kept out
of sight, that it is absolutely impossible to read and study them? But even if
we had access to them, have we sufficient time at our disposal to study them so
perfectly that we could conscientiously swear that we will follow them? How can
we follow a thing we do not see, which we cannot hear, and about which we do not
know more than the man in the moon? Our shameful ignorance of the Holy Fathers
is a sufficient reason to make us fear at the approach of the solemn hour that
we will swear to follow them. Yes! But we know enough of the Holy Fathers to
chill the blood in our veins when swearing to interpret the Holy Scriptures only
according to their unanimous consent. Please, Mr.Superior, tell us what are the
texts of Scripture on which the Holy Fathers are unanimous. You respect yourself
too much to try to answer a question which no honest man has, or will ever dare
to answer. And if you, one of the most learned men of France, cannot put your
finger on the texts of the Holy Bible and say, `The Holy Fathers are perfectly
unanimous on these texts!' How can we, poor young ecclesiastics of the humble
College of Nicolet, say, `The Holy Fathers are unanimously of the same mind on
those texts?' But if we cannot distinguish today, and if we shall never be able
to distinguish between the texts on which the Holy Fathers are unanimous and the
ones on which they differ, how can we dare to swear before God and men to
interpret every text of the Scriptures only according to the unanimous consent
of those Holy Fathers?
"By that awful oath, will we not be absolutely bound to remain mute as dead
men on every text on which the Holy Fathers have differed, under the evident
penalty of becoming perjured? Will not every text on which the Holy Fathers have
differed become as the dead carcass which the Israelites could not touch, except
by defiling themselves? After that strange oath, to interpret the Scripture only
according to the unanimous consent of the Holy Fathers, will we not be
absolutely deprived of the privilege of studying or preaching on a text on which
they have differed?
"The consequences of that oath are legion, and every one of them seems to
me the death of our ministry, the damnation of our souls! You have read the
history of the Church, as we have it here, written by Henrion, Berrault, Bell,
Costel, and Fleury. Well, what is the prominent fact in those reliable histories
of the Church? Is it not that the Church has constantly been filled with the
noise of the controversies of Holy Fathers with Holy Fathers? Do we not find, on
every page, that the Holy Fathers of one century very often differed from the
Holy Fathers of another century in very important matters? Is it not a public
and undeniable fact, that the history of our Holy Church is almost nothing else
than the history of the hard conflict, stern divisions, unflinching
contradictions and oppositions of Holy Fathers to Holy Fathers?
"Here is a big volume of manuscript written by me, containing only extracts
from our best Church historians, filled with the public disputes of Holy Fathers
among themselves on almost every subject of Christianity.
"There are Holy Fathers who say, with our best modern theologians St.
Thomas, Bellarmine and Liguori that we must kill heretics as we kill wild
beasts; while many others say that we must tolerate them! You all know the name
of the Holy Father who sends to hell all the widows who marry a second time,
while other Holy Fathers are of a different mind. Some of them, you know well,
had very different notions from ours about purgatory. Is it necessary for me to
give you the names of the Holy Fathers, in Africa and Asia, who refused to
accept the supreme jurisdiction we acknowledge in the Pope over all churches?
Several Holy Fathers have denied the supreme authority of the Church of Rome you
know it; they have laughed at the excommunications of the Popes! Some even have
gladly died, when excommunicated by the Pope, without doing anything to
reconcile themselves to him! What do we find in the six volumes of letters we
have still from St. Jerome, if not the undeniable fact that he filled the Church
with the noise of his harsh denunciations of the scriptural views of St.
Augustine on many important points. You have read these letters? Well, have you
not concluded that St. Jerome and St. Augustine agreed almost only on one thing,
which was, to disagree on every subject they treated?
"Did not St. Jerome knock his head against nearly all the Holy Fathers of
his time? And has he not received hard knocks from almost all the Holy Fathers
with whom he was acquainted? Is it not a public fact that St. Jerome and several
other Holy Fathers rejected the sacred books of the Maccaabees, Judith, Tobias,
just as the heretics of our time reject them?
"And now we are gravely asked, in the name of the God of Truth, to swear
that we will interpret the Holy Scriptures only according to the unanimous
consent of those Holy Fathers, who have been unanimous but in one thing, which
was never to agree with each other, and sometimes not even with themselves.
"For it is a well-known fact, though it is a very deplorable one, for
instance, that St. Augustine did not always keep to the same correct views on
the text "Thou art Peter, and upon that rock I will build My church.' After
holding correct views on that fundamental truth he gave it up, at the end of his
life, to say, with the Protestants of our day, that `upon that rock means only
Christ, and not Peter.' Now, how can I be bound by an oath to follow the views
of men who have themselves been wavering and changing, when the Word of God must
stand as an unmoving rock to my heart? If you require from us an oath, why put
into our hands the history of the Church, which has stuffed our memory with the
undeniable facts of the endless fierce divisions of the Holy Fathers on almost
every question which the Scriptures present to our faith?
Would to God that I could say, with Baillargeon, I know nothing of the Holy
Fathers! Then I could perhaps be at peace with my conscience, after perjuring
myself by promising a thing that I cannot do.
"I was lately told by the Rev. Leprohon, that it is absolutely necessary to
go to the Holy Fathers in order to understand the Holy Scriptures! But I will
respectfully repeat today what I then said on that subject.
"If I am too ignorant or too stupid to understand St. Mark, St. Luke and
St. Paul, how can I be intelligent enough to understand Jerome, Augustine and
Tertullian? And if St. Matthew, St. John and St. Peter have not got from God the
grace of writing with a sufficient degree of light and clearness to be
understood by men of good-will, how is it that Justin, Clemens and Cyprian have
received from our God a favour of lucidity and clearness which He denied to His
apostles and evangelists? If I cannot rely upon my private judgment when
studying, with the help of God, the Holy Scriptures, how can I rely on my
private judgment when studying the Holy Fathers? You constantly tell me I cannot
rely on my private judgment to understand and interpret the Holy Scriptures; but
will you please tell me with what judgment and intelligence I shall have to
interpret and understand the writings of the Holy Fathers, if it be not with my
own private judgment? Must I borrow the judgment and intelligence of some of my
neighbours in order to understand and interpret, for instance, the writings of
Origen? or shall I be allowed to go and hear what that Holy Father wants from
me, with my own private intelligence? But again, if you are forced to confess
that I have nothing else but my private judgment and intelligence to read,
understand and follow the Holy Fathers, and that I not only can but must rely on
my own private judgment, without any fear, in that case, how is it that I will
be lost if I make use of that same private and personal judgment when at the
feet of Jesus, listening to His eternal and life-giving words?
"Nothing distresses me so much in our holy religion as that want of
confidence in God when we go to the feet of Jesus to hear or read His
soul-saving words, and the abundance of self-confidence, when we go among sinful
and fallible men, to know what they say.
"It is not to the Holy Scriptures that we are invited to go to know what
the Lord saith: it is to the Holy Fathers!
"Would it be possible that, in our Holy Church, the Word of God would be
darkness, and the words of men light!
"This dogma, or article of our religion, by which we must go to the Holy
Fathers in order to know what `The Lord saith,' and not to the Holy Scriptures,
is to my soul what a handful of sand would be to my eyes it makes me perfectly
blind.
"When our venerable bishop places the Holy Scriptures in my hands and
commands me to study and peach them, I shall understand when he means, and he
will know what he says. He will give me a most sublime work to perform; and, by
the grace of God, I hope to do it. But when he orders me to swear that I will
never interpret the Holy Scriptures except according to the unanimous consent of
the Holy Fathers, will he not make a perjured man of me, and will he not say a
thing to which he has not given sufficient attention? For to swear that we will
never interpret anything of the Scriptures, except according to the unanimous
consent of the Holy Fathers, is to swear to a thing as impossible and ridiculous
as to take the moon with our hands. I say more, it is to swear that we ill never
study nor interpret a single chapter of the Bible. For it is probable that there
are very few chapters of that Holy Book which have not been a cause of serious
differences between some of the Holy Fathers.
"As the writings of the Holy Fathers fill at least two hundred volumes in
folio, it will not take us less than ten years of constant study to know on what
question they are or are not unanimous! If, after that time of study, I find
that they are unanimous on the question of orthodoxy which I must believe and
preach, all will be right with me. I will walk with a fearless heart to the
gates of eternity, with the certainty of following the true way of salvation.
But if among fifty Holy Fathers there are forty-nine on one side and one only on
the opposite side, in what awful state of distress will I be plunged! Shall I
not be then as a ship in a stormy night, after she has lost her compass, her
masts, and her helm. If I were allowed to follow the majority, there would
always be a plank of safety to rescue me from the impending wreck. But the Pope
has inexorably tied us to the unanimity. If my faith is not the faith of
unanimity, I am for ever damned. I am out of the Church!
"What a frightful alternative is just before us! We must either perjure
ourselves, by swearing to follow a unanimity which is a fable, in order to
remain Roman Catholics, or we must plunge into the abyss of impiety and atheism
by refusing to swear that we will adhere to a unanimity which never
existed."
It was visible, at the end of that long and stormy conference, that the fears
and anxieties of Baillargeon and mine were partaken of by every one of the
students in theology. The boldness of our expressions brought upon us a real
storm. But our Superior did not dare to face or answer a single one of our
arguments; he was evidently embarrassed, and nothing could surpass his joy when
the bell told him that the hour of the conference was over. He promised to
answer us the next day; but the next day he did nothing but throw dust into our
eyes, and abuse us to his heart's content. He began by forbidding me to read any
more of the controversial books I had brought a few months before, among which
was the celebrated Derry discussion between seven priests and seven Protestants.
I had to give back the well known discussion between "Pope and
Maguire," and between Gregg and the same Maguire. I had also to give up the
numbers of the Avenir and other books of Lamenais, which I had got the liberty,
as a privilege, to read. It was decided that my intelligence was not clear
enough, and that my faith was not sufficiently strong to read those books. I had
nothing to do but to bow my head under the yoke and obey, without a word or
murmur. The darkest night was made around our understandings, and we had to
believe that that awful darkness was the shining light of God! We rejected the
bright truth which had so nearly conquered our mind in order to accept the most
ridiculous sophisms as gospel truths! We did the most degrading action a man can
do we silenced the voice of our conscience, and we consented to follow our
superior's views, as a brute follows the order of his master; we consented to be
in the hands of our superiors like a stick in the hands of the traveler.
During the months which elapsed between that hard fought, through lost battle,
and the solemn hour of my priestly ordination, I did all I could to subdue and
annihilate my thoughts on that subject. My hope was that I had entirely
succeeded. But, to my dismay, that reason suddenly awoke, as from a long sleep,
when I had perjured myself, as every priest has to do. A chill of horror and
shame ran through all my frame in spite of myself. In my inmost soul a cry was
heard from my wounded conscience, "You annihilate the Word of God! You
rebel against the Holy Ghost! You deny the Holy Scriptures to follow the steps
of sinful men! You reject the pure waters of eternal life, to drink the waters
of death."
In order to choke again the voice of my conscience, I did what my Church advised
me to do I cried to my wafer god and to the blessed Virgin Mary that they might
come to my help, and silence the voices which were troubling my peace by shaking
my faith.
With the utmost sincerity, the day of my ordination, I renewed the promise that
I had already so often made, and said in the presence of God and His angels,
"I promise that I will never believe anything except according to the
teachings of my Holy and Apostolic Church of Rome."
And on that pillow of folly, ignorance, and fanaticism I laid my head to sleep
the sleep of spiritual death, with the two hundred millions of slaves whom the
Pope seem at his feet.
And I slept that sleep till the God of our salvation, in His great mercy, awoke
me, by giving to my soul the light, the truth, and the life which are in Jesus
Christ.