Daily duties are very ordinary things. But when done to serve the needs of the Body of Christ they have extraordinary value. No action of the day is trivial or unimportant to true Catholics, for every action done in Christ has ascetic value and leads to perfect union with Him. When the Christian miner plunges down the shaft he is really soaring to Heaven; his wife at home preparing the dinner is, like Martha, preparing a meal for Christ; every pace a Christian takes is another step towards Christ. The Christian Life is nothing more than growth in Christ, and unto Christ, by membership in His Mystical Body, and Christian Asceticism is the process of growth into a perfect man. This is the thesis of an excellent book which has recently been translated into English, and which has inspired these pages.

The analogy of the Mystical Body comes to us from St. Paul, who distinguishes an historical Christ Who was born of a woman, Who was crucified and rose from the dead; and a mystical Christ with Whom ‘we are buried unto death’ (Rom. vi, 4), and of Whose body we are members (I Cor. xii, 12). The complete mystical Christ is not He Who was born of Mary, but consists in Christ the Head plus the members ... The expression ‘Mystical Body of Christ’ signifies a mysterious union with Him, which is the basis of an actual reality. This does not only indicate our moral relationship to Him, owing to the fact that we love Him and call Him brother and friend, but implies an ontological union.

An exclusive study of the English fourteenth century mystics might lead one to suppose that the Mass and Divine Office played little part in the genuine spiritual life of the country. It might seem that the individualistic religion of the post-Reformation period was already the vital influence in those, such as Rolle, Hilton and Dame Julian, who sought the Kingdom of God with earnestness. But then we must not forget the great quantity of devotional verse designed for the ordinary Englishmen of the day: ascetical works, mass-books and instructions on the sacraments, on the virtues and vices. The mystical writers presupposed in their readers a thorough acquaintance with the broader and more ‘ecclesiastical’ type of religion inculcated by these works. It is clear from Walter Hilton that a realization of the union of the faithful in the ‘ghostly’ Body of Christ and of the meaning of the Mass and Divine Office were considered as the groundwork of a true spiritual life. It is therefore in that other less mystical literature that we may expect to find a mirror of the common spirituality of our forefathers. One of the most fruitful sources for such a picture lies in that vigorous poem of ecclesiastical reform, ‘The Vision of Piers Plowman,’ which endeavours to recall the sinning English folk to the springs of the spiritual life in the unity of the Church. In this poem we find a truly English and liturgical type of spirituality that must have been characteristic of the devout members of the Church, both ecclesiastical and lay.

With the publication of Mr. Shane Leslie’s Life of Mrs. Fitzherbert, which appears a little over a century after her death, the clouds which so long hung over the name and fame of that sorely maligned woman have surely lifted at last and for ever. None will more rejoice at a final vindication than will the spiritual descendants of the English Catholic body, to which she belonged, and which (even when appearances seemed most adverse) always clung loyally to her. Her fellow Catholics were sometimes puzzled at and bewildered by her actions, but remained convinced that ultimately she would be found never to have strayed from the right path. Dr. Kirk, writing in her life-time his Biographies of English Catholics, well expressed their feeling: ‘Mrs. Fitzherbert’s long and mysterious connection with George IV when Prince of Wales rendered her the topic of general conversation, more than perhaps any other woman of her time; but by her friends and relations, and by all who ever enjoyed her acquaintance, she has always been regarded with the most unqualified sentiments of approbation and esteem.’

To all students of her period, Mrs. Fitzherbert’s name and personality are well known. This ‘wife who for reasons of state had to pretend to be a mistress’ figures constantly in the histories, memoirs, pamphlets, lampoons, newspapers, paintings and caricatures of the entire epoch, by some sneered at as a light o’ love, by others placed on a level with the Valiant Woman of the Scriptures. Mrs. Fitzherbert’s father was one of the Smythes, Baronets of Eshe and Acton Burnell, her mother an Errington of an ancient Catholic family in the North.

In the world of to-day, and especially in a world at war, the Church stands apart. It has standards that do not change with circumstances, though their application may. And it has never thought that man is capable of standing alone, or expected him to provide perfection in this life, knowing quite well that however much you may alter the world, human nature will be much the same. So to-day it would seem that the Church may have, already has, a great opportunity and a great work to do. And one, moreover, that her officials, the priests and Bishops, cannot do alone. Pope Pius saw this when he developed Catholic Action, that emphasis on the part the laity can and must play in the mission of the Church to the world. It is clear from many passages in different Encyclicals that men and women have each their part in this mission, as it also is abundantly clear from a consideration of fact. What is the part of women? Our experience of war and its aftereffects in our own life-time bids us see even now another new world in the making. The apostolate of the laity will be of more urgency than before. Here we are concerned with certain fundamentals of that apostolate, and in particular with the role of the Catholic woman.

All through the history of the Church women have played a great part. Our Lady in the beginning had, and still holds, a most exalted position; among the innumerable women saints there have been very public and active ones like St. Catherine of Sienna, a dyer’s daughter who actively influenced Popes and Kings, and others whom the world has hardly heanl of till their death, like St. Teresa of Lisieux: women who have worked at home and pioneers who have gone all over the world.

Whatever he did was quickly done, but neither hastily nor in a hurry. This is particularly true of his reading and writing, both of which in sum mounted up imperceptibly to a great deal. His published books and pamphlets, of which even his most intimate companions rarely knew anything until they suddenly appeared ready for printing, are but a small part of the writing he left behind him. This consists of official documents, letters and postcards, plans of sermons and lectures, quotations from books read, and the student’s notes to which he was forever adding something. Considering the busy life he led and the little leisure he was allowed, the extent of his reading and his accurate memory of what he read are very remarkable. Much of it was done in trains and on long voyages. At one time he devoted the time spent in the noisy Underground trains in London to the study of Russian, and made some progress with it. He read history seriously all through life. He returned constantly to his early theological and ecclesiastical studies, refreshing them and keeping them up to date by reading new work as it appeared, preferably such as had a practical bearing on his own special duties. For the nourishment of his own soul and those others whom he had helped in their spiritual life he persevered with his study of the mystics.