of sacerdotalism is treated as little less than angelic—a priest will sing the praises of a priest he hates (I have heard them do it), but a few years’ attentive intercourse with different orders and with the clergy of several dioceses has taught me to regard all priests as—human, very human, but neither more nor less.
For instance there are, as was explained in the second chapter, three distinct branches of the Franciscan Order in England; the three sections were as jealous, hostile, and mutually depreciatory as three rival missionary societies, or the three great branches of Socialism. A few years ago the French colony of friars at Clevedon advertised for cast-off clothing for their youthful aspirants for the order; our authorities immediately wrote to Rome and got their action reproved as derogatory to the dignity of the order—the order, it will be remembered, being a mendicant one, indeed the mendicant order par excellence. The French friars in their turn disturbed the peace of their rivals by securing the patronage of the Duchess of Newcastle and pitching their tent within a few miles of Forest Gate; not even inviting us to the foundation of their church. Another day our friars were exalted at the news that their Capuchin brethren (the bearded Franciscans) had been forced to sell their Dulwich monastery to the Benedictines, and again at the rumour that the Capuchins (amongst whom it was said there had been a general scuffle and dispersion—the dutiful ‘Catholic Times’ gravely
