manuals, plus a certain amount of modern psycho-physics; they follow disused shafts of thought much too frequently to be of any real value. The more important volumes seem to have been entrusted to the less important men; whilst there is much acute criticism on minor topics, the treatment of the more profound problems is very unsatisfactory, such theses as the spirituality of the soul and the existence and infinity of God are merely supported by the old worn-out arguments.
What has been said of the perpetual intrigues of the monastic clergy does not apply so forcibly to the secular priests. Each monastery in London is a small world in itself, containing nearly as many officers as privates; to the secular clergy the number of possible appointments is very slight in proportion to their numbers, and thus the fever of ambition is less universal. There is, of course, a certain amount of intrigue for the wealthier parishes, but few of them have any ambition beyond the desire to settle down as rector of some comfortable respectable congregation; in a witty French book a benevolent parent gives as a supreme counsel to his son who has become priest: 'Arrondissez-vous.' A few may then aspire to the dignity of dean of their district, or to the title of 'missionary rector,' but the genuine Roman fever only begins within the narrow circle of those who presume to aspire to the title of monsignore, or even of canon of the diocese. The dignity of monsignore is
