University of Virginia Library

Chapter XX.

PAPINEAU AND THE PATRIOTS, IN 1833—THE BURNING OF "LE CANADIEN" BY THE CURATE OF ST. CHARLES.

THE name of Louis Joseph Papineau will be forever dear to
the French Canadians; for whatever may be the political
party to which one belongs in Canada, he cannot deny that it
is to the ardent patriotism, the indomitable energy, and the
remarkable eloquence of that great patriot, that Canada is indebted
for the greater part of the political reforms which promise
in a near future to raise the country of my birth to the rank of a
great and free nation.

It is not my intention to speak of the political parties which
divided the people of Canada into two camps in 1833. The
long and trying abuses under which our conquered race was
groaning, and which at last brought about the bloody insurrections
of 1837 and 1838, are matters of history, which do not
pertain to the plea of this work. I will speak of Papineau, and
the brilliant galaxy of talented young men by whom he was
surrounded and supported, only in connection with their difficulties
with the clergy and the Church of Rome.

Papineau, Lefontaine, Bedard, Cartier and others, though born
in the Church of Rome, were only nominal Romanists. I have
been personally acquainted with every one of them, and I know
they were not in the habit of confessing. Several times I invited
them to fulfil that duty, which I considered, then, of the utmost
importance to be saved. They invariably answered me with
jests, which distressed me; for I could see that they did not
believe in the efficacy of auricular confession. These men were
honest and earnest in their efforts to raise their countrymen from
the humiliating and inferior position which they occupied compared

with the conquering race. They well understood that the first
thing to be done in order to put the French Canadians on a
level with their British compatriots, was to give good schools to
the people; and they bravely set themselves to show the
necessity of having a good system of education, for the country
as well as for the city. But at the very first attempt they
found an insurmountable barrier to their patriotic views in the
clergy. The priests had everywhere the good common sense
to understand that their absolute power over the people was
due to its complete ignorance. They felt that that power
would decrease in the same proportion that light and education
would spread among the masses. Hence the almost insurmountable
obstacles put by the clergy before the patriots, to
prevent them from reforming the system of education. The
only source of education, then in Canada, with the exception of
the colleges of Quebec, Montreal and Nicolet, consisted in
one or two schools in the principal parishes, entirely under the
control of the priests, and kept by their most devoted servants,
while the new parishes had none at all. The greater part of
these teachers knew very little more, and required nothing
more from their pupils, than the reading of the A, B, C, and
their little catechism. When once admitted to the first communion,
the A, B, C, and the little catechism were soon forgotten,
and 95 in 100 of the French Canadian people were not even
able to sign their names! In many parishes, the curate, with
his school-teacher, the notary, and a half-dozen of others, were
the only persons who could read or write a letter. Papineau
and his patriotic friends understood that the French Canadian
people were doomed to remain an inferior race in their own
country, if they were left in that shameful state of ignorance.
They did not conceal their indignation at the obstacles placed
by the clergy to prevent them from amending the system of
education. Several eloquent speeches were made by Papineau,
who was their "Parliament Speaker," in answer to the clergy
The curates, in their pulpits, as well as by the press, tried to
show that Canada had the best possible system of education—
that the people were happy—that too much education would
bring into Canada the bitter fruits which had grown in France,
—infidelity, revolution, riots, bloodshed; that the people were
too poor to pay the heavy taxes which would be imposed for
the new system of education. In one of his addresses, Papineau
answered this last argument, showing the immense sums of
money, foolishly given by those so-called poor people, to gild
the ceilings of the church (as was the usage then). He made a
calculation of the tithes paid to the priests; of the costly images
and statues of saints, which were to be seen then, around all the
interior of the churches, and he boldly said that the priests would
do better to induce the people to establish good schools, and pay
respectable teachers, than to lavish their money on objects which
were of so little benefit.

That address, which was reproduced by the only French
paper of Quebec, "Le Canadien," fell upon the clergy like a
hurricane upon a rotten house, shaking it to its foundation.
Everywhere Papineau and his party were denounced as infidels,
more dangerous than Protestants, and plans were immediately
laid down to prevent the people from reading "Le Canadien,"
the only French paper they could receive. Not more than
half a dozen were receiving it in St. Charles; but they used to
read it to their neighbors, who gathered on Sabbath afternoons
to hear its contents. We at first tried, through the confessional,
to persuade the subscribers to reject it, under the pretext that it
was a bad paper; that it spoke against the priests and would
finally destroy our holy religion. But, to our great dismay, our
efforts failed. The curates then had recourse to a more efficacious
way of preserving the faith of the people.

The postmaster of St. Charles was, then, a man whom Mr.
Perras had got educated at his own expense in the seminary
of Quebec. His name was Chabot. That man was a perfect
machine in the hands of his benefactor. Mr. Perras forbade
him to deliver any more of the numbers of that journal to the
subscribers, when there would be anything unfavorable to the
clergy in its columns. "Give them to me," said he, "that I
may burn them, and when the people come to get them, give
them such evasive answers, that they may believe that it is the

editor's fault, or of some other post-offices, if they have not
received it." From that day, every time there was any censure
of the clergy, the poor paper was consigned to the flames. One
evening, when Mr. Perras had, in my presence, thrown a bundle
of these papers into the stove, I told him: "Please allow me
to express to you my surprise at this act. Have we really the
right to deprive the subscribers of that paper, of their property?
That paper is theirs, they have paid for it. How can we take
upon ourselves to destroy it without their permission! Besides,
you know the old proverb: Les pierres parlent. (Stones
speak.) If it were known by our people that we destroy their
papers, would not the consequences be very serious? Now,
Mr. Perras, you know my sincere respect for you, and I hope I
do not go against that respect by asking you to tell me by what
right or authority you do this? I would not put this
question to you if you were the only one who does it. But I
know several others who do just the same thing. I will, probably,
be obliged, when a curate, to act in the same manner,
and I wish to know on what grounds I shall be justified in
acting as you do."

"Are we not the spiritual fathers of our people," answered
Mr. Perras.

I replied, "Yes, sir, we are surely the spiritual fathers of
our people." "Then," rejoined Mr. Perras, "we have in spiritual
matters all the rights and duties which temporal fathers
have, in temporal things, toward their children. If a father
sees a sharp knife in the hands of his beloved but inexperienced
child, and if he has good reasons to fear that the dear child may
wound himself, nay, destroy his own life with that knife, is it
not his duty, before God and man, to take it from his hands and
prevent him from touching it any more?"

"Yes," I answered, "but allow me to draw your attention
to a little difference which I see between the corporal and the
spiritual children of your comparison. In the case you bring
forward, of a father who takes away the knife from the hands
of a young and inexperienced child, that knife has, very probably,
been bought by the father. It has been paid for with that

father's money. It is, then, the father's knife. But the papers
of your spiritual children, which you have thrown into your
stove, have been paid for by them, and not by you. They are
theirs, then, before the laws of God and man, and they are not
yours."

I saw that my answer had cut the good old priest to the
quick, and he became more nervous than I had ever seen him.
"I see that you are young," answered he; "you have not yet
had time to meditate on the great and broad principles of our
holy church. I confess there is a difference in the rights of the
two children to which I had not paid attention, and which, at
first sight, may seem to diminish the strength of my argument.
But I have, here, an argument which will satisfy you, I hope.
Some weeks ago, I wrote to our venerable Bishop Panet about
my intention of burning that miserable and impious paper, "Le
Canadien," to prevent it from poisoning the minds of our people
against us, and he has approved me, adding the advice, to be
very prudent, and to act so secretly that there would be no
danger in being detected. Here is the letter of the holy bishop,
you may read it, if you like."

"I thank you," I replied, "I believe that what you say in
reference to that letter is correct. But suppose that our good
bishop has made a mistake in advising you to burn those papers,
would you not have some reasons to regret that burning, should
you, sooner or later, detect that mistake?"

"A reason of regretting to follow the advice of my superiors!
Never! Never? I fear, my dear young friend, that you do not
sufficiently understand the duties of an inferior, and the sacred
rights of superiors in our holy church. Have you not been told
by your superiors in the college of Nicolet, that there can be no
sin in an inferior, who obeys the orders or counsels of his
legitimate superiors?"

"Yes sir," I answered, "the Rev. Mr. Leprohon has told
us that, in the college of Nicolet."

"But," rejoined Mr. Perras, "your last question makes me
fear that you have forgotten what you have learned there. My
dear young friend, do not forget that it was the want of respect

to their ecclesiastical superiors, which caused the apostacy of
Luther and Calvin, and damned so many millions of heretics
who have followed them. But in order to bring your rebellious
mind under the holy yoke of a perfect submission to your
superiors, I will show you, by our greatest and most approved
theologian, that I can burn these papers, without doing anything
wrong before God."

He then went to his library, and brought me a volume of
Liguori, from which he read to me the following Latin words:
Docet Sanchez, No. 19.—Parato aliquem occidere licite posse
suaderi ut ab eo furetur, vel ut fornicatur (Page 419.) "It is
allowed to commit a sin of a lesser degree, in order to prevent
one of a graver nature." With an air of triumph he said, "Do
you see now that I am absolutely justifiable in destroying these
pestilential papers. According to those principles of our holy
Church, you know well that even a woman is allowed to commit
the sin of adultery with a man who threatens to kill her, or himself,
if she rebukes him; because murder and suicide are greater
crimes, and more irremediable than adultery. So the burning
of those papers, though a sin, if done through malice, or without
legitimate reasons, ceases to be a sin; it is a holy action the
moment I do it, to prevent the destruction of our holy religion,
and to save immortal souls."

I must confess, to my shame, that the degrading principles
of absolute submission of the inferior to the superiors, which
flattens everything to the ground in the Church of Rome, had
so completely wrought their deadly work on me, that it was my
wish to attain to that supreme perfection of the priest of the
Church of Rome, to become like a stick in the hands of my
superiors—like a corpse in their presence. But my God was
stronger than his unfaithful and blind servant, and he never
allowed me to go down to the bottom of that abyss of folly and
impiety. In spite of myself, I had left in me sufficient manhood
to express my doubts about that awful doctrine of my Church.

"I do not want to revolt against my superiors," I answered,
"and I hope God will prevent me from falling into the abyss

where Luther and Calvin lost themselves. I only respectfully
request you to tell me, if you would not regret the burning of
these papers, in case you would know that Bishop Panet made
a mistake in granting you the power of destroying a property
which is neither yours nor his—a property over which neither
of you has any control?"

It was the first time that I was not entirely of the same mind
with Mr. Perras. Till then, I had not been brave, honest or
independent enough to oppose his views and his ipse dixit,
though often tempted to do so. The desire of living in peace
with him; the sincere respect which his many virtues and venerable
age commanded in me; the natural timidity, not to say
cowardice, of a young, inexperienced man, in the presence of a
learned and experienced priest, had kept me, till then, in perfect
submission to the views of my aged curate. But it seemed impossible
to yield any longer, and to bow my conscience before
principles, which seemed to me then, as I am sure they are now,
subversive of everything which is good and holy among men.
I took the big Bible, which was on the table, and I opened it at
the history of Susanna, and I answered: "My dear Mr. Perras,
God has chosen you to be my teacher, and I have learned many
things since it has been my privilege to be with you. But I
have much more to learn, before I know all that your books
and your long experience have taught you. I hope you will
not find fault with me, if I honestly tell you that in spite of
myself, there is a doubt in my mind about this doctrine of our
theologians," and I said: "Is there anything more sublime, in
the whole Bible, than that feeble woman Susanna, in the
hands of those two infamous men? With a diabolical impudence
and malice, they threaten to destroy her, and to take her before
a tribunal which will surely condemn her to the most ignoble
death, if she does not consent to satisfy their criminal desires
She is just in the position alluded to by Liguori. What will
she do? Will she be guided by the principles of our theologians?
Will she consent to become an adulteress in order to prevent
those two men from perjuring themselves, and becoming
murderers, by causing her to be stoned to death, as was required

by the law of the Jews? No! She raises her eyes and her soul
towards the God whom she loves and fears more than anything
in the world, and she says: "I am straitened on every side, for if
I do this thing it is death unto me; and if I do it not, I cannot
escape your hands. It is better for me to fall into your hands,
and not to do it, than to sin in the sight of the Lord." Has not
God Almighty himself shown that he approved of that heroic
resolution of Susanna, to die rather than commit adultery. Does
He not show that He planted, Himself, in that noble soul, the
principle that it is better to die than break the laws of God
when he brought his prophet Daniel, and gave him a supernatural
wisdom to save the life of Susanna? If that woman
had been guided by the principles of Ligouri, which, I confess
to you with regret, are the principles accepted everywhere in
our Church (principles which have guided you in the burning of
"Le Canadien,") she would have consented to the desires of
those infamous men. Nay, if she had been interrogated by her
husband, or by the judges on that action, she would have been
allowed to swear before God and men, that she was not guilty
of it. Now, my dear Mr. Perras, do you not find that there is
some clashing between the Word of God, as taught in the Holy
Scriptures, and the teachings of our Church, through the
theologians?"

Never have I seen such a sudden change in the face and
manners of a man, at I saw in that hour. That Mr. Perras,
who had, till then, spoken with so much kindness and dignity,
completely lost his temper. Instead of answering me, he abruptly
rose to his feet, and began to pace the room with a quick step.
After some time, he told me: "Mr. Chiniquy, you forget that
when you were ordained a priest, you swore that you would
never interpret the Holy Scriptures according to your own fallible
private judgment; you solemnly promised that you would take
them only according to the unanimous consent of the Holy
Fathers speaking to you through your superiors. Has not
Ligouri been approved by the Popes, by all the bishops of the
Church? We have then, here, the true doctrine which must
guide us. But instead of submitting yourself with humility, as

becomes a young and inexperienced priest, you boldly appeal
to the Scriptures, against the decisions of Popes and bishops;
against the voice of all your superiors, speaking to you through
Liguori. Where will that boldness end? Ah! I tremble for
you if you do not speedily change; you are on the high road to
heresy!"

These last words had hardly fallen from his lips when the
clock struck 9 p. m. He abruptly stopped speaking, and said:
"This is the hour of prayer." We knelt and prayed.

I need not say that that night was a sleepless one to me. I
wept and prayed all through its long dark hours. I felt that
I had lost, and forever, the high position I had in the heart of
my old friend, and that I had probably compromised myself,
forever, in the eyes of my superiors, who were the absolute
masters of my destinies. I condemned myself for that inopportune
appeal to the Holy Scriptures, against the ipse dixit of
my superiors. I asked God to destroy in me that irresistible
tendency by which I was constantly going to the Word of God
to know the truth, instead of remaining at the feet of my
superiors, with the rest of the clergy, as the only fountain of
knowledge and light.

But, thanks be to God, that blasphemous prayer was never
to be granted.