They showed me one of his letters, which
was a tissue of mis-statements--a regular tissue. Now, suppose you had a
son and you wanted him to be a priest? You don't necessarily want him to
become a Jesuit or a Benedictine or a Dominican. Where can you send him
now? Stonyhurst, Downside, Beaumont. There isn't a single decent school
run by the secular clergy. You know what I mean? A school for the sons
of gentlemen--a public school. We've got magnificent buildings, grounds,
everything you could wish. I've been promised all the money necessary,
and then the Bishop of Dudley steps in and says that these Dominicans
ought to take it on."
"I'm afraid I've somehow given you a wrong impression," Mark interposed
when Monseigneur Cripps at last filled his mouth with plaice. "I'm not a
Roman Catholic."
"Oh, aren't you?" said Monseigneur indifferently. "Never mind, I expect
you see my point about the necessity for the school to be run by secular
clergy. Did I tell you how I got the land for my church here? That's
rather an interesting story. It belonged to Lord Evesham who, as perhaps
you may know, is very anti-Catholic, but a thorough good sportsman. We
always get on capitally together. Well, one day I said to his agent,
Captain Hart: 'What about this land, Hart? Don't you think you could get
it out of his lordship?' 'It's no good, Father Cripps,' said Hart--I
wasn't Monseigneur then of course--'It's no good,' he said, 'his
lordship absolutely declines to let his land be used for a Catholic
church.
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