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 begun 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 rudiments 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 enlarge 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 philosophy, 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 intelligence in a Roman Catholic
college is a thing absolutely out of 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 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. It 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 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 ridiculous 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 against the degrading 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 necessity 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 deceived, _they 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 my fellow
students. Among them was Joseph Turcot, who died some years ago when, I
think, he was 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 of those
other superiors who are put by him over me, are mistaken, 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 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 teachings 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 philosophy and
Christianity 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 whips 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 priest’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!
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 prepared for their understanding. True
children of God and light, they had found the secret of remaining 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 themselves.
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 among 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 not Veuillot, 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 Montalembert,
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 excommunicated
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 sometimes the priests so
imprudently boast, have gone out from the hands of their Jesuit teachers
to proclaim their supreme contempt 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 not paralyzed by cowardice, selfishness or hypocrisy, those
pupils of the colleges of Rome will be the first to denounce the
priesthood of Rome and demolish 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 noble
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 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
measured them; he has fathomed the dark recesses of their anti-social
principles; he has felt his shoulders wounded and bleeding under the
ignominious 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
them, 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 liberties. She turned them out
from her soil or hung them to her gibbets. If to-day that noble country
of our ancestors is stumbling 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
under 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 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 superstition,
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 places 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 intelligence, 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.