no doubt that he was for Sinn Fein. But how did he stand towards labor?

Past an ancient Norman castle on which was whitewashed the legend "Up De
Valera!" into the low-built little town of Ennis, I drove up to the modest
colonial home that is called the "episcopal palace," Bishop Fogarty invited
me to take off my "wet, cold, ugly coat," and to sit at a linen-covered
spot at the long plush-hung library table. As he rang a bell, he told me I
must be hungry after my drive. Then a maid brought in a piping-hot dinner
of delicious Irish stew. I sat down quite frankly hungry, but from a rather
resentful glance which the maid gave me, I have since suspicioned that I
ate the bishop's dinner.

First I told the bishop that I am a Catholic. Then I said I was informed
that there was a reaction against the Church in Ireland, against being what
American Protestants call "priest-ridden." The first reason of the
reaction, I was told, was the fact that the people felt that the hierarchy
was not in favor of a republic. Indeed I had it from an Irish-American
priest in Dublin that many of the Irish bishops were in a bad way, because
neither the English government nor the people trusted them.

"Priest-ridden?" The bishop smiled. "Priest-ridden? England would like us
to control these people for her today. We couldn't if we would.
Priest-ridden? Perhaps the other way about."

The second reason, it was said, is due to the fact that the workers feel
that the Church is standing with the capitalists. A Dublin Catholic, wife
of an American correspondent stationed in that city, told me that socialism
is so strong in the very poor parish of St. Mary's pro-cathedral in Dublin
that out of 40,000 members, there were 16,000 who were not practising their
religion.