"You are always making some new saint in this godly city of St.Johnston.Pray, who, for a devil's drubber, may he be?
One of your hermits that is trained for the work like a wrestler for the ring, and brings himself to trim by fasting and penance, is he not ?" "No, that is the marvel of it," said Simon: "Father Clement eats, drinks, and lives much like other folks--all the rules of the church, nevertheless, strictly observed." "Oh, I comprehend!--a buxom priest that thinks more of good living than of good life, tipples a can on Fastern's Eve, to enable him to face Lent, has a pleasant in principio, and confesses all the prettiest women about the town ?" "You are on the bow hand still, smith.

I tell you, my daughter and I could nose out either a fasting hypocrite or a full one.

But Father Clement is neither the one nor the other." "But what is he then, in Heaven's name ?" "One who is either greatly better than half his brethren of St.Johnston put together, or so much worse than the worst of them, that it is sin and shame that he is suffered to abide in the country." "Methinks it were easy to tell whether he be the one or the other," said the smith.
"Content you, my friend," said Simon, "with knowing that, if you judge Father Clement by what you see him do and hear him say, you will think of him as the best and kindest man in the world, with a comfort for every man's grief, a counsel for every man's difficulty, the rich man's surest guide, and the poor man's best friend.

But if you listen to what the Dominicans say of him, he is--Benedicite!--( here the glover crossed himself on brow and bosom)--a foul heretic, who ought by means of earthly flames to be sent to those which burn eternally." The smith also crossed himself, and exclaimed: "St.Mary! father Simon, and do you, who are so good and prudent that you have been called the Wise Glover of Perth, let your daughter attend the ministry of one who--the saints preserve us!--may be in league with the foul fiend himself! Why, was it not a priest who raised the devil in the Meal Vennel, when Hodge Jackson's house was blown down in the great wind?
Did not the devil appear in the midst of the Tay, dressed in a priest's scapular, gambolling like a pellack amongst the waves, the morning when our stately bridge was swept away ?" "I cannot tell whether he did or no," said the glover; "I only know I saw him not.

As to Catharine, she cannot be said to use Father Clement's ministry, seeing her confessor is old Father Francis the Dominican, from whom she had her shrift today.