Fifty Years in the Church of Rome

by Charles Paschal Telesphore Chiniquy

“I am glad to see that you do not fear the terrible storm which is upon you, and that your sails are so well trimmed,” answered Mr. Brassard. “You do well in putting your trust in God, first, and in the Jesuits afterwards. The fearless way in which you intend to meet the attacks of your merciless enemies, will give you an easy victory. My hope is that the Jesuits will help you to find out the names of your false accusers, and that you will make use of them to hurl back in the face of the bishop the shame and dishonor he had prepared for you.”

At six P. M., in a modest, well-lighted and ventilated room of the Jesuit College, I was alone with the venerable Mr. Schneider, its director.

I told him how the Bishop of Montreal, four years before, after giving up his prejudices against me, when I had left the oblate, had earnestly supported me in my labors. I acquainted him also with the sudden change of those good feelings into the most uncontrollable hatred, from the day I had refused to force Mrs. Chenier to become a nun, that he might secure her fortune. I told him also how those bad feelings had found new food in my plan of consecrating the rest of my life to direct the tide of the French Catholic emigration towards the Mississippi valley. I exposed to him my suspicions about that miserable girl I had turned out from my confessional. “I have a double object in view,” I added:

“The first, is to spend the last eight days of my residence in Canada in prayer. But my second is, to ask the help of your charity, wisdom and experience in forcing the bishop to withdraw his unjust sentence against me. I am determined, if he does not withdraw it, to denounce him before the whole country, and to challenge him, publicly, to confront me with my accusers.”

“If you do that,” answered Mr. Schneider, “I fear lest you not only do an irreparable damage to the Bishop of Montreal, but to our holy church also.”

I replied: “Our holy church would indeed suffer an irreparable damage, if she sanctioned the infamous conduct of the bishop; but this is impossible.”

“You are correct,” rejoined the Jesuit. “Our holy church cannot sanction such criminal conduct. She has, hundreds of times, condemned those tyrannical and unjust actions, in other bishops. Such want of common honesty and justice will be condemned everywhere, as soon as it is known. The first thing we have to do, is to find out the names of your accusers. I have not the least doubt that they are the blind instruments of Machiavelist plots against you. But those plots have only to be brought to light, to vanish away. My impression is, that the miserable girl you have so abruptly and so wisely turned out of your confessional, knows more than the bishop wants us to find out, about the plots. It is a pity you did not ask her name and residence. At all events, you may rely on my efforts to persuade our bishop that his personal interest, as well as the interest of our holy religion, is, that he should speedily withdraw that sentence, which is a nullity by itself. It will not be difficult for me to show him that he has fallen into the very pit he has dug under your feet. He has taken a position against you which is absolutely untenable. Before your retreat is at an end, no doubt he will be too happy to make his peace with you. Only trust in God, and in the blessed Virgin Mary, and you have nothing to fear from the conflict. Our bishop has put himself above all the laws of man and God, to condemn the priest he had himself officially named: ‘the Apostle of Temperance of Canada.’ There is not a single man, in the church, who will allow him to stand on that ground. The 200,000 soldiers you have enrolled under the holy banners of temperance, will force him to retract his too hasty and unjust sentence.”

It would be too long to repeat here all the encouraging words which that wise Jesuit uttered.

Father Schneider was a European priest, who was in Montreal only since 1849. won my confidence, the very first time I met him, and I had chosen him, at once, for my confessor and adviser. The third day of my retreat, Father Schneider came to my room earlier than usual, and said:

“I have worked hard the last two days, to find out the name and residence of the carter to whom that miserable girl spoke in the church, after you had turned her out of your confessional, and I have it. If you have no objection I will send for him. He may know that girl and induce her to come here.”