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.
“Out of the Church of Rome there is no salvation,” is one of the
doctrines which the priests of Rome have to believe and teach to the
people. That dogma, once accepted, caused me to devote all my energies
to the conversion of Protestants. To prevent one of those immortal and
precious souls from going into hell seemed to me more important and
glorious that the conquest of a kingdom. In view of showing them their
errors, I filled my library with the best controversial books which
could be got in Quebec, and I studied the Holy Scriptures with the
utmost attention. In the Marine Hospital, as well as in my intercourse
with the people of the city, I had several occasions of meeting
Protestants and talking to them; but I found at once that, with very few
exceptions, they avoided speaking with me on religion. This distressed
me. Having been told one day that the Rev. Mr. Anthony Parent, superior
of the Seminary of Quebec, had converted several hundred Protestants
during his ministry, I went to ask him if this were true. For answer, he
showed me the list of his converts, which numbered more than two
hundred, among whom were some of the most respectable English and Scotch
families of the city. I looked upon that list with amazement; and from
that day I considered him the most blessed priest of Canada. He was a
perfect gentleman in his manners, and was considered our best champion
on all points of controversy with Protestants. He could have been
classed, also, among the handsomest men in his time, had not he been so
fat. But, when the high classes called him by the respectable name of
“Mr. Superior of the Seminary,” the common people used to name him Pere
Cocassier (“Cock-fighting Father”), on account of his long-cherished
habit of having the bravest and strongest fighting-cocks of the country.
In vain had the Rev. Mr. Renvoyze, curate of the “Good St. Anne,” that
greatest miracle-working saint of Canada, expended fabulous sums of
money in ransacking the whole country to get a cock who would take away
the palm of victory from the hands of the superior of the Seminary of
Quebec. He had almost invariably failed; with very few exceptions his
cocks had fallen bruised, bleeding and dead on the many battlefields
chosen by those two priests. However, I feel happy in acknowledging
that, since the terrible epidemic of cholera, that cruel and ignominious
“_passe temps_” has been entirely given up by the Roman Catholic clergy
of this country. Playing cards and checkers is now the most usual way
the majority of curates and vicars have recourse to spend their long and
many idle hours, both of the week and Sabbath days.
After reading over and over again that long list of converts, I said to
Mr. Parent: “Please tell me how you have been able to persuade these
Protestant converts to consent to speak with you on the errors of their
religion. Many times I have tried to show the Protestants whom I met,
that they would be lost if they do not submit to our holy Church, but,
with few exceptions, they laughed at me as politely as possible, and
turned the conversation to other matters. You must have some secret way
of attracting their attention and winning their confidence. Would you
not be kind enough to give me that secret, that I may be able also to
prevent some of those precious souls from perishing?”
“You are right when you think that I have a secret to open the doors of
the Protestants, and conquer and tame their haughty minds,” answered Mr.
Parent. “But that secret is of such a delicate nature, that I have never
revealed it to anybody except my confessor. Nevertheless, I see that you
are so in earnest for the conversion of Protestants, and I have such a
confidence in your discretion and honor, that for the sake of our holy
Church I consent to give you my secret; only you must promise that you
will never reveal it, during my lifetime, to anybody—and even after my
death you will not mention it, except when you are sure it is for the
greatest glory of God. You know that I was the most intimate friend your
father ever had; I had no secret from him, and he had none from me. But
God knows that the friendly feelings and confidence I had in him are now
bestowed upon you, his worthy son. If you had not in my heart and esteem
the same high position your father occupied, I would not trust you with
my secret.”
He then continued: “The majority of Protestants in Quebec have Irish
Roman Catholic servant girls; these, particularly before the last few
years, used to come to confess to me, as I was almost the only priest
who spoke English. The first thing I used to ask them, when they were
confessing, was, if their masters and mistresses were truly devoted and
pious Protestants, or if they were indifferent and cold in performing
their duties. The second thing I wanted to know was, if they were on
good terms with their ministers; whether or not they were visited by
them. From the answers of the girls, I knew both the moral and immoral,
the religious or irreligious habits of their masters as perfectly as if
I had been an inmate of their households. It is thus that I learned that
many Protestants have no more religion and faith than our dogs. They
awake in the morning, and go to bed at night, without praying to God any
more than the horses in their stables. Many of them go to church on the
Sabbath day, more to laugh at their ministers and criticise their
sermons than for anything else. A part of the week is passed in turning
them into ridicule; nay, through the confessions of these honest girls,
I learned that many Protestants liked the fine ceremonies of our Church;
that they often favorably contrasted them with the cold performances of
their own, and expressed their views in glowing terms about the
superiority of our educational institutions, nunneries, etc., over their
own high schools or colleges. Besides, you know that a great number of
our most respectable and wealthy Protestants trust their daughters to
our good nuns for their education. I took notes of all these things, and
formed my plans of battle against Protestantism, as a general who knows
his ground and the weak points of his adversaries, and I fought as a man
who is sure of an easy victory. The glorious result you have under your
eyes is the proof that I was correct in my plans. My first step with the
Protestants whom I knew to be without any religion, or even already well
disposed toward us, was to go to them with sometimes £5, or even £25,
which I presented to them as being theirs. They, at first, looked at me
with amazement, as a being coming from a superior world. The following
conversation then almost invariably took place between them and me:
“Are you positive, sir, that this money is mine?”
“Yes, sir,” I answered. “I am certain that this money is yours.”
“But,” they replied, “please tell me how you know that it belongs to me?
It is the first time I have the honor of talking with you, and we are
perfect strangers to each other.”
I answered: “I cannot say, sir, how I know that this money is yours,
except by telling you that the person who deposited it in my hands for
you has given me your name and your address so correctly that there is
no possibility of any mistake.”
“But can I not know the name of the one who has put that money into your
hands for me?” rejoined the Protestant.
“No, sir; the secret of confession is inviolable,” I replied. “We have
no example that it has ever been broken; and I, with every priest of our
Church, would prefer to die, rather than betray our penitents and reveal
their confession. We cannot even act from what we have learned through
their confession, except at their own request.”
“But this auricular confession must then be a most admirable thing,”
added the Protestant; “I had no idea of it before this day.”
“Yes, sir, auricular confession is a most admirable thing,” I used to
reply, “because it is a divine institution. But, sir, please excuse me;
my ministry calls me to another place. I must take leave of you, to go
where my duty calls me.”
“I am very sorry that you go so quickly,” generally answered the
Protestant. “Can I have another visit from you? Please do me the honor
of coming again. I would be so happy to present you to my wife; and I
know she would be happy also, and much honored to make your
acquaintance.”
“Yes, sir, I accept with gratitude your invitation. I will feel much
pleased and honored to make the acquaintance of the family of a
gentleman whose praises are in the mouth of every one, and whose
industry and honesty are an honor to our city. If you will allow me,
next week, at the same hour, I will have the honor of presenting my
respectful homage to your lady.
“The very next day, all the papers reported that Mr. So-and-So had
received £5, or £10, or even £25, as a restitution through auricular
confession: and even the staunch Protestant editors of those papers
could not find words sufficiently eloquent to praise me and our
sacrament of penance.
“Three or four days later, I was sure that the faithful servant girls
were in the confessional-box, glowing with joy to tell me that now their
masters and mistresses could not speak of anything else than the
amiability and honesty of the priests of Rome. They raised them a
thousand miles over the heads of their own ministers. From those pious
girls, I invariably learned that that they had not been visited by a
single friend without making the eulogium of auricular confession, and
even sometimes expressing the regret that the reformers had swept away
such a useful institution.
“Now, my dear young friend, you see how, by the blessing of God, the
little sacrifice of a few pounds brought down and destroyed all the
prejudices of those poor heretics against auricular confession and our
holy Church in general. You understand how the doors were opened to me,
and how their hearts and intelligences were like fields prepared to
receive the good seed. At the appointed hour, I never failed from paying
the requested visit, and I was invariably received like a messiah. Not
only the gentlemen, but the ladies, overwhelmed me with marks of the
most sincere gratitude and respect; even the dear little children petted
me, and threw their arms around my neck to give me their sweetly angelic
kisses. The only topic on which we could speak, of course, was the great
good done by auricular confession. I easily showed them how it works as
a check to all the evil passions of the heart; how it is admirably
adapted to all the wants of the poor sinners, who find a friend, a
counsellor, a guide, a father, a real saviour in their confessor.
“We had not talked half an hour in that way, when it was generally
evident to me that they were more than half way out of their Protestant
errors. I very seldom left the houses without being sure of a new,
glorious victory for our holy religion over its enemies. It is very
seldom that I do not succeed in bringing that family to our holy Church
before one or two years; and if I fail of gaining the father or mother,
I am nearly sure to persuade them to send their daughters to our good
nuns and their boys to our colleges, where they, sooner or later, become
our most devoted Catholics. So you see that the few dollars I spend
every year for that holy cause are the best investments ever made. They
do more to catch the Protestants of Quebec than the baits of the
fishermen do to secure the cod fishes of the Newfoundland banks.”
In ending this last sentence, Mr. Parent filled his room with laughter.
I thanked him for these interesting details. But I told him: “Though I
cannot but admire your perfect skill and shrewdness in breaking the
barriers which prevent Protestants from understanding the divine
institution of auricular confession, will you allow me to ask you if you
do not fear to be guilty of an imposture and a gross imposition in the
way you make them believe that the money you hand them has come to you
through auricular confession?”
“I have not the least fear of that,” promptly answered the old priest,
“for the good reason that, if you had paid attention to what I have told
you, you must acknowledge that I have not said positively that the money
was coming from auricular confession. If those Protestants have been
deceived, it is only due to their own want of a more perfect attention
to what I said. I know that there were things that I kept in my mind
which would have made them understand the matter in a very different way
if I had said them. But Liguori and all our theologians, among the most
approved of our holy Church, tell us that these reservations of the mind
(‘_mentis reservationes_’) are allowed when they are for the good of
souls and the glory of God.”
“Yes,” answered I, “I know that such is the doctrine of Liguori, and it
is approved by the popes. I must confess, however, that this seems to me
entirely opposed to what we read in the sublime gospel. The simple and
sublime ‘Yea, yea,’ and ‘Nay, nay,’ of our Saviour seems to me in
contradiction with the art of deceiving, even when not saying absolute
and direct falsehoods; and if I submit myself to those doctrines, it is
always with a secret protest in my inmost soul.”
In an angry manner, Mr. Parent replied: “Now, my dear young friend, I
understand the truth of what the Rev. Messrs. Perras and Bedard told me
lately about you. Though these remarkable priests are full of esteem for
you, they see a dark cloud on your horizon; they say that you spend too
much time in reading the Bible, and not enough in studying the doctrines
and holy traditions of the Church. You are too much inclined also to
interpret the Word of God according to your own fallible intelligence,
instead of going to the Church _alone_ for that interpretation. This is
the dangerous rock on which Luther and Calvin were wrecked. Take my
advice. Do not try to be wiser than the Church. Obey her voice when she
speaks to you through her holy theologians. This is your only safeguard.
The bishop would suspend you at once were he aware of your want of faith
in the Church.”
These last words were said with such emphasis that they seemed more like
a sentence of condemnation from the lips of an irritated judge than
anything else. I felt that I had again seriously compromised myself in
his mind; and the only way of preventing him from denouncing me to the
bishop as a heretic and a Protestant was to make an apology, and
withdraw from the dangerous ground on which I had again so imprudently
put myself. He accepted my explanation, but I saw that he bitterly
regretted having trusted me with his secret. I withdrew from his
presence, much humiliated by my want of prudence and wisdom. However,
though I could not approve of all the _modus operandi_ of the superior
of Quebec, I could not but admire, then, the glorious results of his
efforts in converting Protestants; and I took the resolution of devoting
myself more than ever to show them their errors and make them good
Catholics. In this I was too successful; for during my twenty-five years
of priesthood I have persuaded ninety-three Protestants to give up their
gospel light and truth, in order to follow the dark and lying traditions
of Rome. I cannot enter into the details of their conversions, or rather
perversions; suffice it to say, that I soon found that my only chance of
success in that proselytizing work was among the Ritualists. I saw at
first that Calvin and Knox had dug a really impassable abyss between the
Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists and the Church of Rome. If these
Ritualists remain Protestants, and do not make the very short step which
separates them from Rome, it is a most astonishing fact, when they are
logical men. Some people are surprised that so many eminent and learned
men, in Great Britain and America, give up their Protestantism to submit
to the Church of Rome; but my wonder is that there are so few among them
who fall into that bottomless abyss of idolatry and folly, when they are
their whole life on the very brink of the chasm. Put millions of men on
the very brink of the Falls of Niagara, force them to cross to and fro
in small canoes between both shores, and you will see that, every day,
some of them will be dragged, in spite of themselves, into the yawning
abyss. Nay, you will see that, sooner or later, those millions of people
will be in danger of being dragged in a whole body, by the irresistible
force of the dashing waters, into the fathomless gulf. Through a sublime
effort the English people, helped by the mighty and merciful hand of
God, have come out from the abyss of folly, impurity, ignorance, slavery
and idolatry called the Church of Rome. But many, alas! in the present
day, instead of marching up to the high regions of unsullied Gospel
truth and light—instead of going up to the high mountains where true
Christian simplicity and liberty have forever planted their glorious
banners—have been induced to walk only a few steps out of the
pestiferous regions of Popery. They have remained so near the
pestilential atmosphere of the stagnant waters of death which flow from
Rome, that the atmosphere they breathe is still filled with the deadly
emanations of that modern Sodom. Who, without shedding tears of sorrow,
can look at those misguided ministers of the Gospel who believe and
teach in the Episcopal Church that they have the power to make their God
with a wafer, and who bow down before that wafer god and adore him! Who
can refrain from indignation at the sight of so many Episcopal ministers
who consent to have their ears, minds and souls polluted at the
confessional by the stories of their penitents, whom in their turn they
destroy by their infamous and unmentionable questions? When I was
lecturing in England, in 1860, the late Archbishop of Canterbury, then
Bishop of London, invited me to his table, in company with Rev. Mr.
Thomas, now Bishop of Coulbourne, Australia, and put to me the following
questions, in the presence of his numerous and noble guests:
“Father Chiniquy, when you left the Church of Rome, why did you not join
the Episcopalian rather than the Presbyterian Church?”
I answered: “Is it the desire of your lordship that I should speak my
mind on that delicate subject?”
“Yes, yes,” said the noble lord bishop.
“Then, my lord, I must tell you that my only reason is that I find in
your Church several doctrines which I have to condemn in the Church of
Rome.”
“How is that?” replied his lordship.
“Please,” I answered, “let me have one of your Common Prayer Books.”
Taking the book, I read slowly the article on the visitation of the
sick: “Then shall the sick person be moved to make a special confession
of his sins, if he feels his conscience troubled with any weighty
matters. After which confession the priest shall absolve him, after this
sort: ‘Our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath left power to His Church to
absolve all sinners who repent and believe in Him, of His great mercy
forgive thee all thine offenses, and by His authority, committed to me,
I absolve thee of all thy sins, in the name of the Father, the Son, and
the Holy Ghost. Amen.’” I then added: “Now, my lord, where is the
difference between the errors of Rome and your Church on this subject?”
“The difference is very great,” he answered. “The Church of Rome is
constantly pressing the sinners to come to her priests all their
lifetime, where we subject the sinner to this humiliation only once in
his life, when he is near his last hour.”
“But, my lord, let me tell you that it seems to me the Church of Rome is
much more logical and consistent in this than the Episcopal Church. Both
churches believe and teach that they have received from Christ the power
to forgive the sins of those who confess to their priests, and you think
yourself wiser because you invite the sinner to confess and receive his
pardon only when he is tied to a bed of suffering, at the last hour
before his death. But will your lordship be kind enough to tell me when
I am in danger of death. If I am constantly in danger of death, must you
not, with the Church of Rome, induce me constantly to confess to your
priests, and get my pardon and make my peace with God? Has our Saviour
said anywhere that it was only for the dying, at the last extremity of
life, that He gave the power to forgive my sins? Has He not warned me
many times to be always ready; to have always our peace made with God,
and not to wait till the last day, to the last hour?”
The noble bishop did not think fit to give me any other answer than
these very words: “We all agree that this doctrine ought never to have
been put in our Common Prayer Book. But you know that we are at work to
revise that book, and we hope that this clause, with several others,
will be taken away.”
“Then,” I answered, in a jocose way, “my lord, when this obnoxious
clause has been removed from your Common Prayer Book, it will be time
for me to have the honor of belonging to your great and noble Church.”
When the Church of England went out of the Church of Rome, she did as
Rachel, the wife of Jacob, who left the house of her father, Laban, and
took his gods with her. So the Episcopal Church of England,
unfortunately, when she left Rome, concealed in the folds of her mantle
some of the false gods of Rome; she kept to her bosom some vipers
engendered in the marshes of the modern Sodom. These vipers, if not soon
destroyed, will kill her. They are already eating up her vitals. They
are covering her with most ugly and mortal wounds. They are rapidly
taking away her life.
May the Holy Ghost rebaptize and purify that noble Church of England,
that she may be worthy to march at the head of the armies of the Lord to
the conquest of the world, under the banners of the great Captain of our
Salvation.