University of Virginia Library

Chapter IX.

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION IN THE ROMAN CATHOLIC
COLLEGE.

I FINISHED, at the College of Nicolet, in the month of
August, 1829, my classical course of study which I had
begun in 1822. I could easily have learned in three or four
years what was taught in those seven years.

It took us three years to study Latin grammar, when
twelve months would have sufficed for all we learned of it. It
is true that during that time we were taught some of the rudiments
of the French grammar, with the elements of arithmetic
and geography. But all this was so superficial, that our teachers
often seemed more desirous to pass away our time than to enlarge
our understandings.

I can say the same thing about the Belles Lettres and of
rhetoric, which we studied two years. A year of earnest study
would have sufficed to learn what was taught us during these
twenty-four months. As for the two years devoted to the study
of logic, and of the subjects classed under the name of philosophy,
it would not have been too long a time if those questions
of philosophy had been honestly given us. But the student in
the college of the Church of Rome is condemned to the
torments of Tantalus. He has indeed the refreshing waters of
Science put to his lips, but he is constantly prevented from
tasting them. To enlarge and seriously cultivate the intelligence
in a Roman Catholic college is a thing absolutely out of
the question. More than that, all the efforts of the principals
in their colleges and convents tend to prove to the pupil that his
intelligence is his greatest and most dangerous enemy—that it is
like an untamable animal, which must constantly be kept in

chains. Every day the scholar is told that his reason was not
given him that he might be guided by it, but only that he may
know the hand of the man by whom he must be guided. And
that hand is none other than the Pope's. All the resources of
language, all the most ingenious sophisms, all the passages of
both the Fathers and the Holy Scriptures bearing on this
question are arranged and perverted with inconceivable art to
demonstrate to the pupil that his reason has no power to teach
him anything else than that it must be subjected to the Supreme
Pontiff of Rome, who is the only foundation of truth and light
given by God to guide the intelligence and to enlighten and
save the world.

Rome, in her colleges and convents, brings up, or raises up,
the youth from their earliest years; but to what height does she
permit the young man or woman to be raised? Never higher
than the feet of the Pope!! As soon as his intelligence, guided
by the Jesuit, has ascended to the feet of the Pope, it must
remain there, prostrate itself and fall asleep.

The Pope! That is the great object towards which all the
intelligence of the Roman Catholics must be converged. It is
the sun of the world, the foundation and the only support of
Christian knowledge and civilization.

What a privilege it is to be lazy, stupid and sluggish in a
college of Rome! How soon such an one gets to the summit of
science, and becomes master of all knowledge! One needs only
to kiss the feet of the Pope, and fall into a perfect slumber
there. The Pope thinks for him! It is he (the Pope) who
will tell him what he can and should think, and what he can
and should believe!

I had arrived at that degree of perfection at the end of my
studies, and J. B. Barthe, Esq., M. P. P., being editor of one of the
principal papers of Montreal in 1844, could write in his paper when
my "Manual of Temperance" was published: "Mr. Chiniquy
has crowned his apostleship of temperance by that work, with
that ardent and holy ambition of character of which he gave us
so many tokens in his collegiate life, where we have been so
many years the witness of his piety when he was the model of

his fellow students, who had called him the Louis de Gonzague
of Nicolet."

These words of the Montreal member of Parliament
mean only that, wishing to be saved as St. Louis de Gonzague,
I had blindly tied myself to the feet of my superiors. I had, as
much as possible, extinguished all the enlightenments of my
own mind to follow the reason and the will of my superiors.
These compliments mean that I was walking like a blind man
whom his guide holds by the hand.

Though my intelligence often revolted against the fables
with which I was nurtured, I yet forced myself to accept them
as gospel truths; and though I often rebelled against the ridiculous
sophisms which were babbled to me as the only principles
of truth and Christian philosophy, yet as often did I impose
silence on my reason, and force it to submit to the falsehoods
which I was obliged to take for God's truth! But, as I have
just confessed it, notwithstanding my good will to submit to my
superiors, there were times of terrible struggle in my soul, when
all the powers of my mind seemed to revolt againt the degradaing
fetters which I was forced to forge for myself.

I shall never forget the day when, in the following terms, I
expressed to my Professor in Philosophy, the Rev. Charles
Harper, doubts which I had conceived concerning the absolute
necessity of the inferior to submit his reason to his superior.
"When I shall have completely bound myself to obey my
superior, if he abuses his authority over me to deceive me by
false doctrines, or if he commands me to do things which I
consider wrong and dishonest, shall I not be lost if I obey him?"

He answered: "You will never have to give an account to
God for the actions that you do by the order of your legitimate
superiors. If they were to deceive you, being themselves deceived,
they alone would be responsible for the error which
you would have committed. Your sin would not be imputed to
you as long as you follow the golden rule which is the base of
all Christian philosophy and perfection—humility and obedience!"

Little satisfied with that answer, when the lesson was over I
expressed my reluctance to accept such principles to several of

my fellow students. Among them was Joseph Turcot, who
died some years ago when, I think, he was Minister of Public
Works in Canada. He answered me: "The more I study what
they call their principles of Christian philosophy and logic, the
more I think that they intend to make asses of every one of us!

On the following day I opened my heart to the venerable
man who was our principal—the Rev. Mr. Leprohon. I used to
venerate him as a saint and love him as a father. I frankly
told him that I felt very reluctant in submitting myself to the
crude principles which seemed to lead us into the most abject
slavery, the slavery of our reason and intelligence. I wrote
down his answer, which I give here:

"My dear Chiniquy, how did Adam and Eve lose themselves
in the Garden of Eden, and how did they bring upon us all the
deluge of evils by which we are overwhelmed? Is it not
because they raised their miserable reason above that of God?
They had the promise of eternal life if they had submitted their
reason to that of their Supreme Master. They were lost on
account of their rebelling against the authority, the reason of
God. Thus it is to-day. All the evils, the errors, the crimes
by which the world is overflooded come from the same revolt of
the human will and reason against the will and reason of God.
God reigns yet over a part of the world, the world of the elect,
through the Pope, who controls the teachings of our infallible
and holy Church. In submitting ourselves to God, who speaks
to us through the Pope, we are saved. We walk in the paths
of truth and holiness. But we would err, and infallibly perish,
as soon as we put our reason above that of our superior, the
Pope, speaking to us in person, or through some of our superiors
who have received from him the authority to guide us."

"But," said I, "if my reason tells me that the Pope, or some
of those other superiors who are put by him over me, are mistaken,
and that they command me something wrong, would I
not be guilty before God if I obey them?"

"You suppose a thing utterly impossible," answered Mr.
Leprohon, "for the Pope and the bishops who are united to him
have the promise of never failing in the faith. They cannot

lead you into any errors, nor command you anything against the
law of God. But supposing for a moment that they would
commit any error, and that they would compel you to believe or
do something contrary to the teachings of the gospel, God
would not ask of you any account of an error committed when
you are obeying your legitimate superior."

I had to content myself with that answer, which I put down
word for word in my note book. But in spite of my respectful
silence, the Rev. Mr. Leprohon saw that I was yet uneasy and
sad. In order to convince me of the orthodoxy of his doctrines,
he instantly put into my hands the two works of De Maistre,
"Le Pape" and "Les Soirees de St. Petersburg," where I
found the same doctrines supported. My superior was honest
in his convictions. He sincerely believed in the sound philosophy
and Christianity of his principles, for he found them
in these books approved by the "infallible Popes."

I will mention another occurrence to show the inconceivable
intellectual degradation to which we had been dragged at the
end of seven years of collegiate studies. About the year 1829
the curate of St. Anne de la Parade wrote to our principal,
Rev. Mr. Leprohon, to ask the assistance of the prayers of all
the students of the College of Nicolet in order to obtain the
discontinuance of the following calamity: "For more than three
weeks one of the most respectable farmers was in danger of losing
all his horses from the effects of a sorcery! From morning to
night, and during most of the night, repeated blows of whips
and sticks were heard falling upon these poor horses, which
were trembling, foaming and struggling! We can see nothing!
The hand of the wizard remains invisible. Pray for us, that
we may discover the monster, and that he may be punished as
he deserves."

Such were the contents of the priest's letter; and as my
superior sincerely believed in that fable, I also believed it, as
well as the students of the college who had a true piety. On
that shore of abject and degrading superstitions I had to land
after sailing seven years in the bark called a college of the
Church of Rome!

The intellectual part of the studies in a college of Rome,
and it is the same in a convent, is therefore entirely worthless.
Worse than that, the intelligence is dwarfed under the chains by
which it is bound. If the intelligence does sometimes advance,
it is in spite of the fetters placed upon it; it is only like some
few noble ships which, through the extraordinary skill of their
pilots, go ahead against wind and tide.

I know that the priests of Rome can show a certain number
of intelligent men in every branch of science who have studied
in their colleges. But these remarkable men had from the
beginning secretly broken for themselves the chains with which
their superiors had tried to bind them. For peace sake they
had outwardly followed the rules of the house, but they had
secretly trampled under the feet of their noble souls the ignoble
fetters which had been prepared for their understanding. True
children of God and light, they had found the secret of remaining
free even when in the dark cells of a dungeon!

Give me the names of the remarkable and intelligent men
who have studied in a college of Rome, and have become real
lights in the firmament of science, and I will prove that nine-tenths
of them have been persecuted, excommunicated, tortured,
some even put to death for having dared to think for themselves.

Galileo was a Roman Catholic, and he is surely one of the
greatest men whom science claims as her most gifted sons. But
was he not sent to a dungeon? Was he not publicly flogged by
the hands of the executioner? Had he not to ask pardon from
God and man for having dared to think differently from the
Pope about the motion of the earth around the sun!

Copernicus was surely one of the greatest lights of his time,
but was he not censured and excommunicated for his admirable
scientific discoveries?

France does not know any greater genius among her most
gifted sons than Pascal. He was a Catholic. But he lived and
died excommunicated.

The Church of Rome boasts of Bossuet, the Bishop of
Meaux, as one of the greatest men she ever had. Yes; but has

not Veuillot, the editor of the Univers, who knows his man
well, confessed and declared before the whole world that
Bossuet was a disguised Protestant?

Where can we find a more amiable or learned writer than
Montalembert, who has so faithfully and bravely fought the
battle of the Church of Rome in France during more than a
quarter of a century? But has he not publicly declared on his
death-bed that that Church was an apostate and idolatrous
Church from the day that she proclaimed the dogma of the
Infallibility of the Pope? Has he not virtually died an excommunicated
man for having said with his last breath that the
Pope was nothing else than a false god?

Those pupils of Roman Catholic colleges of whom sometimes
the priests so imprudently boast, have gone out from the
hands of their Jesuit teachers to proclaim their supreme contempt
for the Roman Catholic priesthood and Papacy. They
have been near enough to the priest to know him. They have
seen with their own eyes that the priest of Rome is the most
dangerous, the most implacable enemy of intelligence, progress
and liberty; and if their arm be not paralyzed by cowardice,
selfishness or hypocrisy, those pupils of the colleges of Rome
will be the first to denounce the priesthood of Rome and demolish
her citadels.

Voltaire studied in a Roman Catholic college, and it was
probably when at their school that he nerved himself for the
terrible battle he has fought against Rome. The Church will
never recover from the blow which Voltaire has struck at her in
France.

Cavour, in Italy, had studied in a Roman Catholic college
also, and under that very roof it is more than probable that his
noble intelligence had sworn to break the ignominious fetters
with which Rome had enslaved his fair country. The most
eloquent of the orators of Spain, Castelar, studied in a Roman
Catholic college; but hear with what burning eloquence he
denounces the tyranny, hypocrisy, selfishness and ignorance of
the priests.

Papineau studied under the priests of Rome in their college

at Montreal. From his earliest years that Eagle of Canada
could see and know the priests of Rome as they are; he has
weighed them in the balance; he has measured them; he has
fathomed the dark recesses of their anti-social principles; he
has felt his shoulders wounded and bleeding under the ignominious
chains with which they dragged our dear Canada in the
mire for nearly two centuries. Papineau was a pupil of the
priests; and I have heard several priests boasting of that as a
glorious thing. But the echoes of Canada are still repeating the
thundering words with which Papineau denounced the priests as
the most deadly enemies of the education and liberty of Canada!
He was one of the first men of Canada to understand that there
was no progress, no liberty possible for our beloved country so
long as the priests would have the education of our people in
their hands. The whole life of Papineau was a struggle to wrest
Canada from their grasp. Everyone knows how he constantly
branded tbem, without pity, during his life, and the whole world
has been the witness of the supreme contempt with which he
has refused their services, and turned them out at the solemn
hour of his death!

When, in 1792, France wanted to be free, she understood
that the priests of Rome were the greatest enemies of her liberties.
She turned them out from her soil or hung them to her
gibbets. If to-day that noble country of our ancestors is stumbling
and struggling in her tears and her blood—if she has fallen
at the feet of her enemies—if her valiant arm has been paralyzed,
her sword broken and her strong heart saddened above measure,
is it not because she had most imprudently put herself again under
the yoke of Rome?

Canada's children will continue to flee from the country of
their birth so long as the priest of Rome holds the influence
which is blasting everything that falls within his grasp, on this
continent as well as in Europe; and the United States will soon
see their most sacred institutions fall, one after the other, if the
Americans continue to send their sons and daughters to the
Jesuit colleges and nunneries.

When, in the warmest days of summer, you see a large

swamp of stagnant and putrid water, you are sure that deadly
miasma will spread around, that diseases of the most malignant
character, poverty, sufferings of every kind, and death will soon
devastate the unfortunate country; so, when you see Roman
Catholic colleges and nunneries raising their haughty steeples
over some commanding hills or in the midst of some beautiful
valleys, you may confidently expect that the self-respect and the
manly virtues of the people will soon disappear—intelligence,
progress, prosperity will soon wane away, to be replaced by superstition,
idleness, drunkenness, Sabbath-breaking, ignorance,
poverty and degradation of every kind. The colleges and
nunneries are the high citadels from which the Pope darts his
surest missiles against the rights and liberties of nations. The
colleges and nunneries are the arsenals where the most deadly
weapons are night and day prepared to fight and destroy the
soldiers of liberty all over the world.

The colleges and nunneries of the priests are the secret places
where the enemies of progress, equality and liberty are holding
their councils and fomenting that great conspiracy, the object of
which is to enslave the world at the feet of the Pope.

The colleges and nunneries of Rome are the schools where
the rising generations are taught that it is an impiety to follow
the dictates of their own conscience, hear the voice of their intelligence,
read the Word of God, and worship their Creator
according to the rules laid down in the gospel.

It is in the colleges and nunneries of Rome that men learn
that they are created to obey the Pope in everything—that the
Bible must be burnt, and that liberty must be destroyed at any
cost all over the world.