Fifty Years in the Church of Rome

by Charles Paschal Telesphore Chiniquy

From that day to his death, which occurred six months after, I never had a more sincere friend than Mr. Varin.

I thanked God, who had enabled me at once, not only to disarm the chief of my opponents, but to transform him into my most sincere and devoted friend. My hope was that the people would soon follow their chief, and be reconciled to me, but I did not expect that this would be so soon, and from such an unforeseen and unexpected cause.

The principal reason the people had to oppose my coming to Kamouraska, was, that I was the nephew of the Hon. Amable Dionne, who had made a colossal fortune at their expense. The Rev. Mr. Varin, who was always in his debt, was also forced by the circumstances, to buy everything, both for himself and the church, from him, and had to pay, without a murmur, the most exorbitant prices for everything.

In that way, the church and the curate, though they had very large revenues, had never enough to clear their accounts. When the people heard that the nephew of Mons. Dionne was their curate, they said to each other: “Now our poor church is forever ruined, for the nephew will, still more than the curate, favor his uncle, and the uncle will be less scrupulous than ever in asking most unreasonable prices for his merchandise.”

They felt they had more than fallen from Charybdis into Scylla.

The very next day after my arrival, the beadle told me that the church needed a few yards of cotton for some repairs, and asked me if he would not go, as usual, to Mr. Dionne’s store. I told him to go there first, ask the price of that article, and then go to the other stores, ordering him to buy at the cheapest one. Thirty cents was asked at Mr. Dionne’s, and only fifteen cents at Mr. St. Pierre’s; of course we bought at the latter’s store.

The day was not over before this apparently insignificant fact was known all over the parish, and was taking the most extraordinary and unforeseen proportions.

Farmers would meet with their neighbors, and congratulate themselves that, at last, the yoke imposed upon them by the old curate and Mr. Dionne was broken; that the taxes they had to pay the store were at an end, with the monopoly which had cost them so much money. Many came to Mr. St. Pierre to hear from his own lips that their new curate had, at once, freed them from what they considered the long and ignominious bondage, against which they so often, but so vainly protested. For the rest of the week, this was the only subject of conversation. They congratulated themselves, that they had, at last, a priest, with such an independent and honest mind, that he would not do them any injustice, even to please a relative in whose house he had spent the years of his childhood.

This simple act of fair play towards that people won over their affection. Only one little dark spot remained in their minds against me. They had been told that the only subject on which I could preach was: Rum, whiskey and drunkenness. And it seemed to them exceedingly tedious to hear nothing else from the curate, particularly when they were more than ever determined to continue drinking their social glasses of brandy, rum and wine.

There was an immense crowd at church the next Sunday. My text was: “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you.” Showing them how Jesus had proved that He was their friend.