University of Virginia Library

Chapter LXV.

EXCELLENT TESTIMONIAL FROM MY BISHOP—MY RETREAT—
GRAND VICAR SAURIN AND HIS ASSISTANT, REV. M. GRANGER—GRAND
VICAR DUNN WRITES ME ABOUT THE NEW
STORM PREPARED BY THE JESUITS—BISHOP SMITH, ORDERS
ME BACK TO DUBUQUE—HE REJECTS THE ACTS OF SUBMISSION—THE
VOICE OF GOD—THE BISHOP REQUIRES A NEW
ACT OF SUBMISSION— I REFUSE IT—VISION—CHRIST OFFERS
HIMSELF AS A GIET—I AM FORGIVEN, RICH HAPPY AND
SAVED—BACK TO MY PEOPLE.

BISHOP SMITH had fulfilled his promise in addressing to
me a testimonial letter, which would show to both friends
and foes that the most honorable and lasting peace between us
was to succeed the deplorable years of strife through which we
had just passed. I read it with grand vicar Dunn, who was not
less pleased than I with the kind expressions of esteem towards
my people and myself with which it was filled. I had never had
a document in which my private and public character were so
kindly appreciated. I put it in my portfolio as the most precious
treasure I had ever possessed, and my gratitude to the bishop
who had written such friendly lines, was boundless. I, at once,
addressed a short letter to thank and bless him: and I requested
him to pray for me during the happy days of retreat I was to
spend at the monastery of St. Joseph.

The venerable grand vicar Saurin, and his assistant, Rev. M.
Granger, received me as two Christian gentlemen receive a
brother priest, and I may say that, during my stay in the monastery,
they constantly overwhelmed me with the most sincere
marks of kindness. I found in them both the very best types of
priests of Rome. A volume, and not a chapter, would be required,
were I to tell what I saw there of the zeal, devotedness,
ability and marvellous success of their labors. Suffice it to say,

that grand vicar Saurin is justly considered one of the largest and
highest intellects Rome has ever given to the United States.
There is not, perhaps, a man who has done so much for the advancement
of that church in this country as that highly gifted
priest. My esteem, respect, I venture to say, my veneration for
him, increased every time I had the privilege of conversing with
him. The only things which pained me were:

1st. When some of his inferior monks came to speak to
him, they had to kneel and prostrate themselves as if he had
been a god, and they had to remain in that humble and degrading
posture, till, with a sign of his hand or a word from his lips,
he told them to rise.

2nd. Though he promised to the numerous Protestant parents,
who entrusted their boys and girls to his care for their
education, never to interfere with their religion, he was, nevertheless,
incessantly proselytizing them. Several of his Protestant
pupils were received in the Church of Rome, and renounced
the religion of their fathers, in my presence, on the eve of Easter
of that year.

While, as a priest, I rejoiced in the numerous conquests of
my church over her enemies, in all our colleges and nunneries, I
objected to the breach of promise, always connected with those
conversions. I, however, then thought, as I think to-day, that
a Protestant who takes his children to a Roman Catholic priest
or nun for their education, had no religion.

It is simply an absurdity to promise that we will respect the
religion of a man who has none. How can we respect that
which does not exist?

As a general thing, there are too few people who understand
the profound meaning of our Saviour's words to his disciples:
"Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place and rest a while."
These words, uttered after the apostles had gathered themselves
together unto Jesus, and told him all things both what they had
done and taught, ought to receive more attention, on the part of
those whom the Son of God has chosen to continue the great
work of preaching his Gospel to the world. I had never before
so well realized how good it was to be alone with Christ, and

tell him all I had done, said and thought. Those few days of
rest and communion with my Saviour were one of the greatest
favors my merciful God had ever given me.

My principal occupation was to read and meditate on the Gospel.
That divine book had never been so precious to me as
since God had directed me to put it as the fundamental stone of
my faith in the act of submission I had just given to my bishop:
and my church had never been so dear to me as since she had
accepted that conditional submission. I felt a holy pride and
joy at having finally silenced the voice of the enemy which, so
often, troubled my faith by crying to my soul: "Do you not see
that in your Church of Rome, you do not follow the Word of
God, but only the lying traditions of men." My church, through
her bishop, had just given me what I considered an infallible
assurance of the contrary, by accepting the document signed by
me and my people, where we had clearly said that we would
never obey any authority or any superior, except when "their
orders or doctrines would be based upon the Gospel of Christ."
My soul was rejoicing in those thoughts, when, on the 5th of
April (Monday after Easter) grand vicar Saurin handed me a
letter from Mr. Dunn, telling me that a new storm, brought by
the Jesuits, and more formidable than the past ones, was about
to break on me; that I had to prepare for new and more scrious
conflicts than I had ever experienced.

The next morning, Mr. Saurin handed me another letter
from the Bishop of Dubuque, and with a sympathy which I
will never forget, he said:

"I am sorry to see that you are not at the end of your troubles,
as you expected.

"Bishop Smith orders you back to Dubuque with words
which are far from being friendly."

But, strange to say, such bad news, which would have saddened
and discouraged me, in other circumstances, left me perfectly
calm and cheerful on that day. In my dear Gospel, which
had been my daily bread, the last eight days, I had found the
helmet for my head, the breastplate and the shield to protect me,
and the unconquerable sword with which to fight.

From every page, I heard my Saviour's voice: "Fear not, I
am with thee."

When, on my way back to Dubuque, I stopped at Chicago,
to know from my faithful friend, Mr. Dunn, the cause of the
new storm. He said:

"You remember how grand vicar Mailloux was displeased
with the conditional submission you had given to the bishop. As
soon as we had left him, he sent the young priest who is with
him, to the Jesuits of Chicago, to tell them that the authority of
the church and of the bishop would be forever lost, if Chiniquy
were allowed to submit on such a condition. He wanted them
to notice that it was not to the authority of the bishops and the
church you had submitted; but only to the authority of the
Bible. The Jesuits were of the same mind. They immediately
sent to Dubuque, and said to the bishop: `Do you not see that
Chiniquy is a disguised Protestant; that he has deceived you by
presenting you such an act of submission. Does not your lordship
see that Chiniquy has not submitted himself to your authority,
but to the authority of his Bible alone? Do you not fear
that the whole body of the bishops and the Pope himself will
condemn you for having fallen into the trap prepared by that
disguised Protestant?

"Our administrator, though a good man when left to himself,
is weak, and like soft wax, can be manipulated in every way.

"The Jesuits who want to rule the priests and the church
with an iron rod, and who are aiming to change the Pope and
the bishops into the most heartless tyrants, have advised the administrator
to force you to give an unconditional act of submission.
It is not the Word of God which must rule us now, it is
the old Jupiter, who is coming back to rule us under the name of
a modern divinity, called `the authority of the bishops.' The
administrator and the Jesuits themselves, have telegraphed your
submission to several bishops, who have unanimously answered
that it must be rejected, and another given, without condition, requested
from you. You were evidently too correct, when you
told me the other day, that your act of submission was too good
for the bishops and the Pope. What will you do?"

I replied: "I do not know what I will do, but be sure of
this, my dear Mr. Dunn, I will do what our great and merciful
God will tell me."

"Very well, very well," he answered, "May God help you!"[8]

After warmly shaking hands with me, I left to take the
train for Dubuque, where I arrived, next morning. I went immediately
to the bishop's palace. I found him in the company
of a Jesuit, and I felt myself as a poor helpless ship between two
threatening icebergs.

"Your lordship wants to see me again," I said.

"Yes, sir, I want to see you again," he answered.

"What do you want from me my lord?" I replied.

"Have you the testimonial letter I addressed to you, at Chicago,
last week?"

"Yes, my lord, I have it with me."

"Will you please show it to me," he replied.

"With pleasure, here it is," and I handed him the precious
document.

As soon as he had assured himself that it was the very letter
in question, he ran to the stove and threw it into the fire. I felt
so puzzled at the action of my bishop, that I remained almost
paralyzed; but soon, coming to myself, I ran, to save from the
flames, that document which was more valuable and precious to
me than all the gold of California, but it was too late. It was
in ashes.

I turned to the bishop and said: "How can you take from
me a document which is my property, and destroy it without my
permission?"

He answered me with an impudence that cannot be expressed
on paper: "I am your superior, and have no account to give you."

I replied: "Yes, my lord, you are my superior indeed. You
are a great bishop in our church, and I am nothing but a poor
miserable priest."

"But, there is an Almighty God in heaven, who is as much
above you as he is above me. That great God has granted me

rights which I will never give up to please any man. In the
presence of God, I protest against your iniquity."

"Have you come here to lecture me?" replied the bishop.

"No, my lord, I did not come to lecture you; I come at your
command, but I want to know if it was to insult me as you have
just done that you requested me to come here again."

"I ordered you to come here again because you deceived
me the last time you were here," he answered: "you gave me an
act of submission which you know very well is not an act of submission.
I accepted it then, but I was mistaken; I reject it to-day."

I answered: "How can you say that I deceived you? The
document I presented you, is written in good, plain English. It
is there, on your table, I see it: you read it twice, and understood
it well. If you were deceived by its contents, you deceived
yourself. You are, then, a self-deceiver and you cannot accuse
me of having deceived you."

He then took the document, read it slowly: and when at the
words, "we submit ourselves to your authority, according to the
Word of God as we find it in the Gospel of Christ," he stopped
and said: "What do you mean by this?"

I answered, "I mean what you see there. I mean that neither
I nor my people will ever submit ourselves to anybody, except
according to the eternal laws of truth, justice and holiness of
God, as we find them expressed in the Bible."

He angrily answered, "Such language on your part is sheer
Protestantism. I cannot accept such a conditional submission
from any priest."

Then, again, I seemed to hear the mysterious voice, "Do you
not see that in your Church of Rome, you do not follow the
Word of God, but the lying traditions of men?"

Thanks be to God, I did not silence that voice in that solemn
hour.

An ardent, though silent prayer, went from the bottom of
my heart to the mercy seat. With all the fervor of my soul I
said: "Oh my God! speak, speak again to thy poor servant,
and grant me the grace to follow thy Holy Word!" I then said
to the bishop:

"You distress me by rejecting this act of submission and
asking another. Please explain yourself more clearly, and tell
me the nature of the new one you require from me and my
people."

Taking then a more subdued and polite tone, the bishop said:

"I hope, Mr. Chiniquy, that, as a good priest, you do not
want to rebel against your bishop, and that you will give me the
act of submission I ask from you. Take away these `Words
of God,' `Gospel of Christ,' and `Bible,' from your present
document, and I will be satisfied."

"But, my lord, with my people, I have put these words
because we want to obey only the bishops who follow the
Word of God. We want to submit only to the church which
respects and follows the Gospel of Christ."

In an irritated manner, he quickly answered: "Take away
from your act of submission, those `Words of God,' and `Gospel
of Christ,' and `Bible!' or I will punish you as a rebel."

"My lord," I replied, "those expressions are there to show
us and to the whole world, that the Word of God, the Gospel
of Christ and the Bible, are the fundamental stones of our holy
church. If we reject those precious stones, on what foundations
will our church and our faith rest?"

He answered angrily: "Mr. Chiniquy, I am your superior,
I do not want to argue with you: You are my inferior, your
business is to obey me. Give me, at once, an act of submission
in which you will simply say that you and your people will submit
yourselves to my authority, and promise to do anything I
will bid you."

I calmly answered: "What you ask me is not an act of submission,
it is an act of adoration. I do absolutely refuse to give
it."

"If it be so, sir," he answered, "you can no longer be a
Roman Catholic priest."

I raised my hands to heaven, and cried with a loud voice:
"May God Almighty be forever blessed."

I took my hat and left to go to my hotel. When alone, in
my room, I locked the door and fell on my knees, to consider, in

the presence of God, what I had just done. There, the awful,
undeniable truth stared me in the face. My church could not
be the Church of Christ! That sad truth had not been revealed
to me by any Protestant, nor any other enemy of the church. It
was from her own lips I had got it? It had been told me by one
of her most learned and devoted bishops! My church was the
deadly, the irreconcilable enemy of the Word of God, as I had
so often suspected! I was not allowed to remain a single day
longer in that church without positively and publicly giving up
the Gospel of Christ! It was evident to me that the Gospel was
only a blind, a mockery to conceal her iniquities, tyrannies, superstitions
and idolatries. The only use of the Gospel in my
church, was to throw dust in the eyes of the priests and people!
It had no authority. The only rule and guide were the will, the
passions and the dictates of sinful men!

There, on my knees, and alone with God, it was evident to
me that the voice which had so often troubled and shaken my
faith, was the voice of my merciful God who wanted to save me.
It was the voice of my dear Saviour, who wanted to bring me
out of the ways of perdition in which I was walking. And I
had tried so often to silence that voice!

"My God! my God!" I cried, "The Church of Rome is
not thy church. To obey the voice of my conscience, which is
thine, I gave it up. When I had the choice between giving up
the Church or the Bible, I did not hesitate. I could not give up
thy Holy Word. I have given up Rome! But, O Lord, where
is thy church? Oh! speak!! where must I go to be saved?"

For more than one hour, I cried to God in vain; no answer
came. In vain, I cried for a ray of light to guide me. The
more I prayed and wept, the greater was the darkness which
surrounded me! I then felt as if God had forsaken me, and an
unspeakable distress was the result of that horrible thought.
To add to my distress, the thought flashed across my mind that
by giving up the Church of Rome, I had given up the church
of my dear father and mother, of my brothers, my friends and
my country. In fact all that was near and dear to me!

I hope that none of my readers will ever experience what it

is to give up friends, relatives, parents, honor, country—everything!
I did not regret the sacrifice, but I felt as if I could not
survive it. With tears, I cried to God for more strength and
faith to bear the cross which was laid on my too weak shoulders
but all in vain.

Then I felt that an implacable war was to be declared
against me, which would end only with my life. The Pope, the
bishops and priests, all over the world, would denounce and
curse me. They would attack and destroy my character, my
name and my honor, in their press, from their pulpit and in their
confessionals, where the man they strike can never know whence
the blow is coming! Almost in despair, I tried to think of
some one who would come to my help in that formidable conflict,
but could find none. Every one of the millions of Roman
Catholics were bound to curse me. My best friends—my own
people—even my own brothers, were bound to look upon me
with horror as an apostate, a vile outcast! Could I hope for
help or protection from Protestants? No! for my priestly life
had been spent in writing and preaching against them. In vain
would I try to give an idea of the desolation I felt, when that
thought struck my mind.

Forsaken by God and man, what would become of me?
Where would I go when out of that room?

Expelled with contempt by my former Roman Catholic
friends; repulsed with still more contempt by Protestants;
where could I go to hide my shame and drag my miserable existence?
How could I go again into that world where there was no
more room for me; where there was no hand to press mine; none
to smile upon me! Life suddenly became to me an unbearable
burden. My brain seemed to be filled with burning coals. I
was losing my mind. Yea, death, an instant death seemed to me
the greatest blessing in that awful hour! and, will I say it?
Yes! I took my knife to cut my throat and put an end to my
miserable existence! But my merciful God, who wanted only
to humble me, by showing me my own helplessness, stopped my
hand, and the knife fell on the floor.

Though I felt the pangs of that desolation for more than

two hours, I constantly cried to God for a ray of his saving
light, for a word telling me what to do, where to go to be saved.
At last, drops of cold sweat began to cover again my face and my
whole body. The pulsations of my heart began to be very slow
and weak: I felt so feeble that I expected to faint at any moment,
or fall dead! At first I thonght that death would be a great relief,
but then, I said to myself: "If I die, where will I go, when
there is no faith, nor a ray of light to illumine my poor perishing
soul! Oh, my dear Saviour," I cried, "come to my help! Lift
up the light of thy reconciled countenance upon me."

In that very instant, I remembered that I had my dear New
Testament with me, which I used then, as now, to carry everywhere.
The thought flashed across my mind that I would find
in that divine book the answer to my prayer, and light to guide
me through that dark night to that house of refuge and salvation,
after which my soul was ardently longing. With a trembling
hand and a praying heart, I opened the book at random; but,
no! not I, my God himself opened it for me. My eyes
fell on these words: "YE ARE BOUGHT WITH A
PRICE. BE NOT YE THE SERVANTS OF MEN."
(1 Cor., 7: 23.)

Strange to say! Those words came to my mind, more as a
light than an articulated sound. They, suddenly, but most
beautifully and powerfully, gave me, as much as a man can
know it, the knowledge of the great mystery of a perfect salvation
through Christ alone. They, at once, brought a great
and delightful calm to my soul. I said to myself: "Jesus
has bought me, then I am His; for when I have bought a thing,
it is mine, absolutely mine! Jesus has bought me! I, then,
belong to him! He alone has a right over me. I do not belong
to the bishops, to the Popes; not even to the church, as I have
been told till now. I belong to Jesus, and to him alone! His
Word must be my guide, and my light by day and by night.
Jesus has bought me, I said again to myself; then He has saved
me! and if so, I am saved, perfectly saved, for ever saved! for
Jesus cannot save me by half. Jesus is my God; the works of
God are perfect. My salvation must, then, be a perfect salvation!
But how has he saved me? What price has he paid

for my poor guilty soul? The answer came as quickly as
lightning: "He bought you with his blood shed on the cross!
He saved you by dying on Calvary!"

I, then, said to myself again: "If Jesus has perfectly saved me
by shedding his blood on the cross, I am not saved as I have
thought and preached till now, by my penances, my prayers to
Mary and the saints, my confessions and indulgences, not even
by the flames of purgatory.

In that instant, all things which, as a Roman Catholic, I had
to believe to be saved—all the mummeries by which the poor
Roman Catholics are so cruelly deceived, the chaplets, indulgences,
scapularies, auricular confession, invocation of the virgin,
holy water, masses, purgatory, etc., given as means of salvation,
vanished from my mind as a huge tower, when struck at the
foundation, crumbles to the ground. Jesus alone remained in
my mind as the Saviour of my soul!

Oh! what joy I felt at this simple, but sublime truth! But
it was the will of God that this joy should be short. It suddenly
went away with the beautiful light which had caused it; and my
poor soul was again wrapped in the most awful darkness. However
profound that darkness was, a still darker object presented
itself before my mind. It was as a very high mountain; but not
composed of sand or stones, it was the mountain of my sins. I
saw them all standing before me. And still more horrified was
I when I saw it moving towards me as if, with a mighty hand,
to crush me. I tried to escape, but in vain. I felt tied to the
floor, and the next moment, it had rolled over me. I felt as
crushed under its weight; for it was as heavy as granite. I could
scarcely breathe! My only hope was to cry to God for help.
With a loud voice, heard by many in the hotel, I cried: "O my
God! have mercy upon me! My sins are destroying me! I am
lost, save me!" But it seemed God could not hear me. The
mountain was between, to prevent my cries from reaching Him,
and to hide my tears. I suddenly thought that God would have
nothing to do with such a sinner, but to open the gates of hell
to throw me into that burning furnace prepared for his enemies,
and which I had so richly deserved!

I was mistaken, after eight or ten minutes of unspeakable
agony, the rays of a new and beautiful light began to pierce
through the dark cloud which hung over me. In that light, I
clearly saw my Saviour. There he was, bent under the weight
of his heavy cross. His face was covered with blood, the crown
of thorns was on his head and the nails in his hands. He was
looking at me with an expression of compassion, of love, which
no tongue can describe. Coming to me, he said: "I have heard
thy cries, I have seen thy tears, I come to offer myself to thee as
a Gift. I offer thee my blood and my bruised body as a Gift
to pay thy debts; wilt thou give me thy heart? Wilt thou take
my Word for the only lamp of thy feet and the only light of thy
path? I bring thee eternal life, as a gift!"

I answered: "Dear Jesus, how sweet art thy words to my
soul! Speak, oh! speak again! Yes, beloved Saviour, I want to
love thee; but dost thou not see that mountain which is crushing
me? Oh! remove it! Take away my sins!"

I had not done speaking when I saw his mighty hand stretched
out. He touched the mountain, and it rolled into the deep, and
disappeared. At the same time, I felt as if a shower of the blood
of the Lamb were falling upon me to purify my soul. And,
suddenly, my humble room was transformed into a real paradise.
The angels of God could not be more happy than I was in that
most mysterious and blessed hour of my life. With an unspeakable
joy, I said to my Saviour: "Dear Jesus, the Gift of God,
I accept thee! Thou hast offered the pardon of my sins as a
gift, I accept the gift. Thou hast brought me eternal life as a
gift! I accept it! Thou hast redeemed and saved me, beloved
Saviour, I know, I feel it. But this is not enough. I do not
want to be saved alone. Save my people also. Save my whole
country! I feel rich and happy in that gift; grant me to show its
beauty and preciousness, to my people, that they may accept it,
and rejoice in its possession."

This sudden revelation of that marvellous truth of salvation
as a Gift, had so completely transformed me, that I felt quite
a new man. The unutterable distress of my soul had been
changed into an unspeakable joy. My fears had gone away, to

be replaced by a courage and strength, such as I had never experienced.
The Popes, with their bishops and priests, and millions
of abject slaves might, now, attack me, I felt that I was a
match for them all. My great ambition was to go back to my people
and tell them what the Lord had done to save my soul. I
washed my tears away, paid my bill and took the train which
brought me back into the midst of my dear countrymen. At that
very same hour they were anxious and excited, for they had just
received, at Kankakee City, a telegram from the Bishop of Dubuque,
telling them: "Turn away your priest, for he has refused
to give me an unconditional act of submission."

They had gathered in great numbers to hear the reading of
that strange message. But they unanimously said: "If Mr.
Chiniquy has refused to give an unconditional act of submission,
he has done right, we will stand by him to the end." However,
I knew nothing of that admirable resolution. I arrived at St.
Anne, on a Sabbath day, at the hour of the morning service.
There was an immense crowd at the door of the chapel. They
rushed to me and said: "You are just coming from the bishop;
what good news have you to bring us?"

I answered: "No news here, my good friends, come to the
chapel and I will tell you what the Lord has done for my soul."

When they had filled the large building, I told them.

"Our Saviour, the day before his death, said to his disciples:
`I will be a scandal to you, this night.' I must tell you the same
thing. I will be, to-day, I fear, the cause of a great scandal to
every one of you. But, as the scandal which Christ gave to his
disctples, has saved the world; I hope that, by the great mercy
of God, the scandal I will give you will save you. I was your
pastor till yesterday? But I have no more that honor to-day,
for I have broken the ties by which I was bound as a slave at
the feet of the bishops and of the Pope."

This sentence was scarcely finished, when a universal cry of
surprise and sadness filled the church. "Oh! what does that
mean?" exclaimed the congregation.

"My dear countrymen," I added, "I have not come to tell
you to follow me! I did not die to save your immortal souls:

I have not shed my blood to buy you a place in heaven; but
Christ has done it. Then follow Christ and him alone? Now,
I must tell you why I have broken the ignominious and unbearable
yoke of men, to follow Christ. You remember that, on the
21st of March last, you signed, with me, an act of submission to
the authority of the Bishop of the Church of Rome, with the
conditional clause that we would obey them only in matters
which were according to the teachings of the Word of God as
found in the Gospel of Christ. In that act of submission we did
not want to be slaves of any man, but the servants of God, the
followers of the Gospel. It was our hope then that our church
would accept such a submission. And your joy was great, when
you heard that Grand Vicar Dunn was here on the 28th of
March, to tell you that Bishop Smith had accepted the submission.
But that acceptation was revoked. Yesterday, I was told
in the presence of God, by the same bishop, that he ought not
to have accepted an act of submission from any priest or people
based on the Gospel of Christ! Yes! yesterday, Bishop Smith
rejected, with the utmost contempt, the act of submission we had
given him, and which he had accepted only two weeks ago, because
the `Word of God' was mentioned in it! When I respectfully
requested him to tell me the nature of the new act of
submission he wanted from us, he ordered me to take away from
it `the Word of God, the Gospel of Christ, and the Bible,' if we
wanted to be accepted as good Catholics! We had thought, till
then, that the sacred Word of God, and the Holy Gospel of
Christ were the fundamental and precious stones of the Church
of Rome. We loved her on that account, we wanted to remain
in her bosom, even when we were forced to fight, as honest
men, against that tyrant, O'Regan. Believing that the Church
of Rome was the child of the Word of God, that it was the
most precious fruit of the divine tree planted on the earth, under
the name of the Gospel, we would have given the last drop of
our blood to defend her!

"But, yesterday, I have learned, from the very lips of the
Bishops of Rome, that we were a band of simpletons in believing
those things. I have learned that the Church of Rome has nothing

to do with the Word of God, except to throw it overboard, to
trample it under their feet, and to forbid us even to name it in
the solemn act of submission we had given. I have been told
that we could no longer be Roman Catholics, if we persisted in
putting the Word of God and the Gospel of Christ as the foundation
of our religion, our faith and our submission. When I
was told, by the bishop, that I had either to renounce the Word
of God as the base of my submission, or the title of priest of
Rome, I did not hesitate. Nothing could induce me to give up
the Gospel of Christ; and so I gave up the title and position of
priest in the Roman Catholic Church. I would rather suffer a
thousand deaths than renounce the Gospel of Christ. I am no
longer a priest of Rome; but I am more than ever a disciple of
Christ, a follower of the Gospel. That Gospel is for me, what
it was for Paul: `The power of God unto salvation.' It is the
bread of my soul. In it we can satisfy our thirst with the
waters of eternal life! No! no!! I could not buy the honor of
being any longer a slave to the bishops and popes of Rome, by
giving up the Gospel of Christ!

"When I requested the bishop to give me the precise form
of submission he wanted from us, he answered: `Give me an
act of submission without any condition, and promise that you
will do anything I bid you.' I replied:

" `This is not an act of submission, it is an act of adoration!
I will never give it to you.!'

" `If so,' he said, `you can no longer be a Roman Catholic
priest.'

"I raised my hands to heaven, and with a loud and cheerful
voice, I said: "May God Almighty be forever blessed.' "

I then told them something of my desolation, when alone, in
my room; of the granite mountain which had been rolled over my
shoulders, of my tears and of my despair. I told them also how
my bleeding, dying crucified Saviour had brought me the forgiveness
of my sins; how he had offered me eternal salvation as
a Gift, and how rich, strong and happy I felt in that gift. I
then offered them the Gift and besought them to accept it.

My address lasted more than two hours, and God blessed it

in a marvellous way. Its effects were profound and lasting, but it is
too long to describe here. In substance, I said: "I respect you
too much to impose myself upon your honest consciences, or
to dictate what you ought to do on this most solemn occasion.
I feel that the hour has come for me to make a great sacrifice;
I must leave you! but no! I will not go away before you tell
me to do so. You will yourselves break the ties so dear
which have united us. Please, pay attention to these, my parting
words: "If you think it is better for you to follow the
Pope than to follow Christ; that it is better to trust in the works
of your hands, and in your own merits, than in the blood of the
Lamb, shed on the cross, to be saved; if you think it is better
for you to follow the traditions of men than the Gospel; and if
you believe that it is better for you to have a priest of Rome,
who will keep you tied as slaves to the feet of the bishops, and
who will preach to you the ordinances of men, rather than have
me preach to you nothing but the pure Word of God, as we find
it in the Gospel of Christ, tell it to me by rising up, and I will
go!" But to my great surprise nobody moved. The chapel
was filled with sobs; tears were flowing from every eye; but
not one moved to tell me to leave them! I was puzzled. For
though I had hoped that many, enlightened by the copies of the
New Testament I had given them, tired of the tyranny of the
bishops, and disgusted with the superstitions of Rome, would be
glad to break the yoke with me, to follow Christ; I was afraid
that the greatest number would not dare to break their allegiance
to the church, and publicly give up her authority. After
a few minutes of silence, during which I mixed my tears and
my sobs with those of my people, I told them: "Why do you
not, at once, rise up and tell me to go? You see that I can no
longer remain your pastor after renouncing the tyranny of the
bishops, and the traditions of men, to follow the Gospel of
Christ as my only rule. Why do you not bravely tell me to go
away?"

But this new appeal was still without any answer. I was
filled with astonishment. However, it was evident to me that a
great and mysterious change was wrought in that multitude.

Their countenances, their manners were completely changed.
They were speaking to me with their eyes filled with tears, and
their manly faces beaming with joy. Their sobs, in some way,
told me that they were filled with new light; that they were
full of new strength, and ready to make the most heroic sacrifices,
and break their fetters to follow Christ, and Him alone.
There was something in those brave, honest and happy faces
which was telling me more effectually than the most eloquent
speech: "We have accepted the Gift, we want to be rich, happy,
free, and saved in the gift: we do not want anything else; remain
among us and help us to love both the gift and the giver!"

A thought suddenly flashed across my mind, and with an inexpressible
sentiment of hope and joy, I told them:

"My dear countrymen! The Mighty God, who gave me
his saving light, yesterday, can grant you the same favor, to-day.
He can, as well, save a thousand souls as one. I see, in your noble
and Christian faces, that you do not want any more to be
slaves of men. You want to be the free children of God, intelligent
followers of the Gospel! The light is shining, and you
like it. The gift of God has been offered to you, and you have
accepted it! With me you will break the fetters of a captivity,
worse than that of Egypt, to follow the Gospel of Christ, and
take possession of the Promised Land: let all those who think it
is better to follow Jesus Christ than the Pope, better to follow
the Word of God than the traditions of men: let all those of you
who want me to remain here and preach to you nothing but the
Word of God, as we find it in the Gospel of Christ, tell it to me,
by rising up. I am your man! Rise up!"

Without a single exception, that multitude arose! More than
a thousand of my countrymen had, forever, broken their fetters.
They had crossed the Red Sea and exchanged the servitude of
Egypt, for the blessings of the Promised Land!