e argued that, since variations in the sexual order will
inevitably take place, whether or not they are recognized or
authorized, no harm is likely to be done by using the weight of
social and legal authority on the side of that form which is
generally regarded as the best, and, so far as possible, covering
the other forms with infamy. There are many obvious defects in
such an attitude, apart from the supremely important fact that to
cast infamy on sexual relationships is to exert a despicable
cruelty on women, who are inevitably the chief sufferers. Not the
least is the injustice and the hampering of vital energy which it
inflicts on the better and more scrupulous people to the
advantage of the worse and less scrupulous. This always happens
when authority exerts its power in favor of a form. When, in the
thirteenth century, Alexander III--one of the greatest and most
effective potentates who ever ruled Christendom--was consulted by
the Bishop of Exeter concerning subdeacons who persisted in
marrying, the Pope directed him to inquire into the lives and
characters of the offenders; if they were of regular habits and
staid morality, they were to be forcibly separated and the wives
driven out; if they were men of notoriously disorderly character,
they were to be permitted to retain their wives, if they so
desired (Lea, _History of Sacerdotal Celibacy_, third edition,
vol. i, p. 396). It was an astute policy, and was carried out by
the same Pope elsewhere, but it is easy to see that it was
altogether opposed to morality in every sense of the term. It
destroyed the happiness and the efficiency of the best men; it
left the worst men absolutely free. To-day we are quite willing
to recognize the evil result of this policy; it was dictated by a
Pope and carried out seven hundred years ago. Yet in England we
carry out exactly the same policy to-day by means of our
separation orders, which are scattered broadcast among the
population. None of the couples thus separated--and never
disciplined to celibacy as are the Catholic clergy of to-day--may
marry again; we, in effect, bid the more scrupulous among them to
become celibates, and to the less scrupulous we grant permission
to do as they like. This process is carried on by virtue of the
collective inertia of the community, and when it is sup