Fifty Years in the Church of Rome

by Charles Paschal Telesphore Chiniquy

There was, however, another thing which was still more overwhelming me. It was the terrible moral struggle in my soul from morning till night, and from night till morning, when the voice of conscience, which I had to take for the voice of Satan, was crying in my ears:“ Oh! what an awful thing it is to resist the voice of God! To take him for the evil one, when, by his warnings, he seeks to save your soul! Although the horrible scandal I had seen distressed me more than human words can tell, those mental conflicts were still more distressing. Fearing lest I should entirely lose my faith in my religion, and become an absolute infidel, by remaining any longer in the midst of such profligacy, I determined to leave; but before doing so, I wanted to consult the new friend whom the Providence of God had given me in Mr. Dunn. It seemed the unbearable burden which was on my shoulders would become lighter, by sharing it with such a sympathetic brother priest.

I went to him, after dinner, and taking him apart, I told him all about the orgies of last night, and asked his advice on my determination not to continue that retreat, which was evidently nothing else than a blind, and a sacrilegious comedy, to deceive the world.

He answered: “You teach me nothing, for I spent last night in the same dormitory where you were. One of the priests told me all about those orgies, yesterday; I could hardly believe what he said, and I determined to see and hear for myself what was going on. You do not exaggerate, you do not even mention half of the horrors of last night. It baffles any description. It is simply incredible for any one who has not himself witnessed them. However, I do not advise you to leave. It would forever ruin you in the mind of the bishop, who is not already too well disposed in your favor. The best thing you can do is to go and tell everything to Bishop Spaulding. I have done it this morning; but I felt that he did not believe the half of what I told him. When the same testimony comes from you, then he will believe it, and will probably take some measures, with our own bishop, to put an end to those horrors. I have something to tell you, confidentially, which surpasses, in a measure, anything you know of the abominations of these last three nights. “ “With these fine words ringing in my ears,” said good Mr. Dunn, “I had to leave his room at the double quick. It is of no use for us to speak to Bishop O’Regan, on that matter. It will do no good. He wants to get a large subscription from those priests, at the end of the retreat, and he is rather inclined to pet than punish them, till he obtains the $100,000 he wants to build his white marble palace on the lake shore.”

I replied: “Though you add to my desolation, instead of diminishing it, by what you say of the strange principles of our bishop, I will speak to my lord Spaulding as you advise me.”

Without a moment’s delay, I went to his room. He received me very kindly, and did not at all seem surprised at what I said. It was as if he had been accustomed to see the same, or still worse abominations. However, when I told him the enormous quantity of liquor drank, and that retreat would be only a ridiculous comedy, if no attempt at reform was tried, he agreed with me; “but it would be advisable to try it,” he said.“ Although the Bishop of Chicago seemed puzzled at seeing me entering the room with my lord Spaulding, he was as polite as possible. He listened with more attention than I expected to the narrative I gave of what is going on among the priests. After telling him my sad story, Bishop Spaulding said: “My lord of Chicago: These facts are very grave, and there cannot be any doubt about the truth of what we have just heard. Two other gentlemen gave me the same testimony this morning.”

“Yes!” said Bishop O’Regan, “it is very sad to see that our priests have so little self-respect, even during such solemn days as those of a public retreat. The Rev. Mr. Dunn has just told me the same sad story as Father Chiniquy. But what remedy can we find for such a state of things? Perhaps it might do well to give them a good sermon on temperance. Mr. Chiniquy, I am told that you are called ‘the temperance apostle of Canada.’ and that you are a powerful speaker on that subject; would you not like to give them one or two addresses on the injury they are doing to themselves and to our holy church, by their drunkenness?”

“If those priests could understand me in French,” I replied, “I would accept the honor you offer me, with pleasure; but to be understood by them, I would have to speak in English; and I am not sufficiently free in that language to attempt it. My broken English would only bring ridicule upon the holy cause of temperance.

“But my lord Spaulding has already preached on that subject in Kentucky, and an address from his lordship would be listened to with more attention and benefit from him than from me.”

It was, then, agreed that he should change his programme, and give two addresses on temperance, which he did. But though these addresses were really eloquent, they were pearls thrown before swine.

The drunken priests slept as usual; and even snored, almost through the whole length of the delivery. It is true that we could notice a little improvement and less noise the following nights; the change, however, was very little.