Despite his attacks on the Jews, Feeney claims to be their friend. "I like a Jew better than a Protestant," he says. "You never know where a Protestant stands, but you know where a Jew does. He tells you and you can take sides, but those Protestants!"

And, "The Jews know that all the Protestants hate them. Everyone knows that. But right now there is a sort of alliance with the Jews and the Protestants, ganging up on the Roman Catholics here in Boston. And the Greek Orthodox (latest group to be vilified by Feeney) are helping out."

More and more, the meetings have ended in volence. Several Sundays ago, a group of hymn-singing, guitar-playing evangelists started up with a mike (Feeney uses none) about 30 yards away. Feeney began mocking their sermon, but eventually the noise was too loud for even him to overcome.

Several of his "boys" went over to the mike and attacked the evangelists. The crowd surged over and fighting broke out. The more rational element in the mob gained the upper hand, and soon restored order. But during the entire scene, Feeney merely stood on his podium and grinned impishly. He later commented how "wonderfully my boys help me."

'Graveyard Religion'

"Father Feeney is going to have a riot on his hands here one of these fine Sundays," said a middle-aged man in the crowd. Ten minutes later, a 50-year-old weekly reckler named Jeff was struck on the mouth by another of Feeney's supporters. Jeff has always yelled to Feeney that the priest was "teaching a graveyard religion."

When told about outbreaks that occur after he has gone, Feeney refuses to believe them. "I'm sure my lovely little boys wouldn't do such things," he says. But one of these "little boys," six-foot Hugh McIsaac, whom Notre Dame's Frank Leahy once called the "greatest football possibility" he'd seen in a long time, jumps up on the platform every Sunday after Feeney is through and says if anybody tries to hurt Feeney, it'll be over his dead body. Hugh, and his brother Joe, a former Harvard man, form a bodyguard for the aging preacher that rarely leaves his side.

No Recent Harvard Converts

By the fall of 1951, Feeney had become a permanent Sunday fixture on the common. His talks had changed completely from a positive assertion of his dogma to a vicious and negative attack on Jews, Protestants, and the Catholic hierarchy in Boston.

But today, he feels that he is losing much of the popular support he had. Not a single Harvard College student has joined the movement in the last year, though many come to hear him who aren't official followers. Observers think Feeney's decline is due to the completely negative quality of his talks. His audiences have never ceased to grow, but the ranks of heckiers are also enlarging. This has caused frequent disturbances, and now police are present almost every Sunday.

Training Assistants

Last spring, Feeney began to let his "boys" do some of the talking. Many were former Harvard students, and they tried to say the same things Feeney had been saying for months. The response to one was typical.

Someone started heckling him in the midst of a stream of abuse against the Jews. Give me a break, will you?" said the young preacher. "This is my first time up here." The heckler replied that Feeney never gave anyone a break.

In a desperation move, the movie preacher led the crowd in prayer. The heckler didn't shut up. At the end of the prayer, the young preacher said "See, you Catholics out there. This faker wouldn't even be quiet while we were praying to Mary."

After the speeches, there is always an hour or more of argument among Feeney's listeners. The people split up into three kinds of groups. One group uses his bigotry line to support its own ideas, and enlarges on his. Some think he should be locked up or refused freedom of speech in a public place. Others think he should go back merely to preaching the "non sulla ex-Catholica" dogma, as he did two years ago.