Take this Education Squabble for an example.

The successor to the Chair of Augustine, good man--he's, after all, your Metropolitan--runs around doing his best to discover a way out, to patch up a 'concordat,' as they call it?
What's the effect, upon any Diocesan Conference?
Up springs subaltern after subaltern, fired with zeal to give his commander away.

'Our beloved Archbishop, in his saintly trustfulness, is bargaining away our rights as Churchmen'-- all the indiscipline of a middle-class private school (and I know what that is, Mr.Colt, having kept one) translated into the sentimental erotics of a young ladies' academy!" Mr.Colt gasped.
"And so, believe me, sir," concluded Brother Copas, snapping down the lid of his snuff-box, "this country of ours did not get rid of the Pope in order to make room for a thousand and one Popelings, each in his separate parish practising what seems right in his own eyes.
At any rate, let us say, remembering the parable of the room swept and garnished, it intended no such result.

Let us agree, Mr.
Chaplain, to economise in Popes, and to condemn that business of Avignon.

So the ignorant herd comes back on you with two questions, which in effect are one: 'If not mere anarchists, what authority own you?
And if not for Rome, for what in the world _are_ you heading ?' You ask Rome to recognise your Orders .-- _Mais, soyez consequent, monsieur_." It was Mr.Colt's turn to pull out his watch.
"Permit me to remind you," he said, "that you, at any rate, have to own an authority, and that the Master will be expecting you at six-thirty sharp.