“Yes,” I replied, “whenever they come to me; but they do not do so as often as they should, or as I could wish them, for the zeal I have for the salvation of their souls.”
“And do you really think,” he added, “that their sins are remitted as soon as they have declared them to you?”
“No, assuredly,” I said to him; “a mere confession is not sufficient to produce this. It is necessary that it should be accompanied by a true sorrow for the past and a sincere resolution for the future, without which auricular Confession will have no efficacy to blot out sins.”
“And as to the images and the Cross,” he replied, “do you think that the prayer would be equally efficacious without this, which is the external of religion?”
“The prayer is good, without doubt,” I answered him; “but permit me to ask you, with regard to yourself, why in families do they preserve the portraits of a father, a mother, or their ancestors? Is it not principally to awaken their own remembrances in thinking of the benefits they have received from them, and to animate them to follow their good examples? For it is not exactly the picture which they honor, but it brings back to them all which it represents. In the same manner, you need not imagine that we Roman Catholics adore the wood or the brass; but we use it to nourish, so to say, our devotion. For how could a reasonable being remain unaffected while beholding the figure of a God dying on the Cross for His love to us? What effect may not be produced on the soul and the heart by the image of a martyr who is giving his life for Jesus Christ?”
“Oh, I do not understand it so,” said the Englishman to me; and I well knew from his manner that their ministers deceive them in telling them that the Papists, as they call us, superstitiously reverence and adore the Cross and the images, valuing them for themselves.[16]
I was anxiously waiting for the return of those who had been to visit the dwellings, when they came to me to say that it was necessary I should go on board the ship, as Captain Potter wished to see me and speak with me. I had done every thing in my power by urging, soliciting, and representing, as earnestly as I was able, all the reasons I had for not embarking so soon. But I could gain nothing, and I was obliged to obey in spite of myself. The commander of the party on shore, who, in the absence of the others, was the second lieutenant, when I came to speak to him on this point, taking hold of his tongue with one hand, and with the other making a semblance of piercing or cutting it, gave me to understand that, if I said any more, I might expect bad treatment. I had reason to think that he was annoyed at the strong and pathetic address I had made with regard to the profanation of the ornaments of the church and the sacred vessels.
We embarked, therefore, towards three o’clock in the afternoon, in a canoe; and, although the ship was not much more than three leagues distant (the captain having now caused it to enter the river), we nevertheless only reached it in about eight hours, in consequence of the remissness of the rowers, who were constantly drinking. When at a great distance I saw the hull of the vessel by the light of the moon, it seemed to me to be entirely out of the water. It had, indeed, run aground on the shore, and had only a depth of three feet of water. This was the occasion of great alarm to me; for I imagined that this might be the fault of my negro, whom they had selected as one of the pilots, and I thought that the captain had sent to seek me to make me bear the penalty which my slave merited, or at least that I should perish with the others in case the ship should be wrecked. What confirmed me for some time in this sad supposition was the little degree of welcome I received; but I have since been informed that there was no design in this, and that the cold reception which alarmed me was caused by the fact that they were all busy in working the vessel, to relieve themselves as soon as possible from the uncomfortable position in which they were.
As soon as our canoe had reached the ship, I saw descending and coming to me a young man, who murdered the French language in some little attempt to speak it, and who took my hand, kissed it, and informed me that he was an Irishman and a Roman Catholic. He even made the sign of the Cross, which he did indifferently well; and he added that, in right of his office as second gunner, he had a berth which he wished to give me, and that, if any one should take it into his head to show me the least disrespect, he well knew how to avenge it. This introduction, though shared in by a man who seemed to be very drunk, did not fail to tranquillize me somewhat. He gave me his hand, to aid me in climbing up to the deck by means of the ropes. Scarcely had I mounted thither when I encountered my negro. I asked him at once why he caused the ship to run aground, and was reassured when he told me that it was the fault of the captain, who was obstinate in holding his course in the middle of the river, although he had repeatedly told him that the channel ran near the shore. At the same time the captain appeared on the quarter-deck, and told me, with great coldness, to go down into the cabin, after which he continued to devote himself to working the vessel.
My Irishman, however, did not leave me, but, sitting at the door, renewed his protestations of good-will, assuring me always that he was a Roman Catholic; that he wished to confess before I left the ship; that he had formerly received the Sacrament, &c. And, as in all his conversation, he constantly mingled invectives against the English nation, they made him leave me, forbidding him to speak with me for the future, under penalty of chastisement. He received this with a very bad grace; swearing, blustering, and protesting that he would speak with me in spite of them.