We must begin at the beginning and endeavour to establish quite elementary notions as to the nature of things. And this is especially necessary to-day because in our civilization we have placed a great gulf between those who work at the thing we call Art and all other workers. I shall endeavour to show that this is one of the fundamental evils of our time, and in order to do this it is necessary to go back to the beginning.

The word “Art” in the dictionary has quite a simple meaning; it means simply “skill.” Thus we use the word art in common speech when we call a person “artful,” and when we speak of the “art” of cooking, the “art” of government or the “art” of living. But, it is quite obvious, you cannot be skilful about nothing; you cannot just be skilful. Skill must be applied to something, so by the word ‘ ‘art’ ‘ we mean first of all skill in doing. To get a nail to go into a wall without damaging either the nail or the wall requires considerable skill. So hanging pictures and such-like jobs is, as we say, “quite an art,” and therefore a man who makes a good job of it is, as we say, “quite an artist.” From this it becomes clear that the word “art” soon takes on a meaning of more than merely skill in doing and comes to mean skill in making—to do a thing skilfully is to make a good job of it.

The Liturgical Movement, maintains Guardini, was born, not made. It came apparently into existence from a universally expressed desire for a life more fully and symbolically Catholic.

From whatever sources this movement sprang it is certain that in Romano Guardini it found its most able interpreter. In France, Germany and elsewhere this liturgical revival coincided exactly with the publication and translation of Guardini’s Sinn der Kirche and Geist der Liturgie.

Perhaps a certain parallel may be found between the rebirth of metaphysics and the liturgical revival. Both movements have the same foundations, both spring from the need of some absolute order, and both are heralded as an escape from individualism.

Guardini shows how the liturgy, by incorporating all revealed truth, insists on the existence of an established order. Through collective prayer it offers an escape from the individualism of the times.

The Eucharistic hymns of St. Thomas are a cycle—indeed the only cycle—of liturgical song. They form such a unity and fulness of Eucharistic truth and worship that a greater than Elgar or Bach would be needed to express them as an oratorio.

But there is one spiritual quality throughout them which the greatest master of music would confess to be beyond the power of his craft. Every line of these Eucharistic hymns, though unmistakably wrought by genius, is yet dyed by a subtle rosential humility which has escaped notice only by the semblance of a miracle. Yet if none but the prayer of the humble pierces the clouds, this twice-hidden humility of the Eucharistic hymns has given them a place apart in the great throng and song of liturgical prayer.

Let us draw attention to this quality (i) in the Hymns of the Divine Office and (2) in the Sequence of the Mass.

It is an important book which can throw light, as this book by M. Fumet certainly does, on the life and writings of Léon Bloy. For since his death Bloy, as man and as thinker or seer, has come to exert great influence in the world of Catholic thought, greater perhaps than that of any other writer of modern times. Already towards the close of his life, it is true, his apostolate had begun to tell (notable among his converts being Jacques and Raïssa Maritain), but it was only posthumously that fame of him blazed out and he came to be widely recognized as a great exemplar and pro-claimer of the spirit of Catholicism in its opposition to all that is mediocre or bourgeois. Yet there is a scandal which still somewhat limits the range and force of his influence. To come into contact with Bloy is not only to be thrilled by a new perception of the splendour and vitality of the Faith, but also to be confounded by the violence and exaggeration of his ideas and the extravagant vehemence and seeming insufferable arrogance of his character. Where we cannot accept all, we are inclined to reject entirely. M. Fumet comes to save us from ingratitude and superstition. This present article is no more than a series of hints at the contents of his book, at the image of Bloy emerging from its pages.

If Bloy’s mind can only be understood through knowledge of his life, practically all the clues lie in the first half of it, running to the period of the tragic experiences dramatized in Le Désespéré.

The close of the Victorian age was marked by a deep and significant unrest amongst those painters and writers who, escaping from the prevailing smugness and weak hypocrisy of that time, had clung firmly to what they looked upon as the true and vital principles of their art. Heralded by the Pre-Raphaelites, and by Ruskin, a period of revolt was approaching which was to pass from one hideous negative extreme to another extreme, so assertive as to lose all semblance of order, that necessary attribute of beauty. To-day, this lack of restraint, this utter impatience of rules still finds ardent support amongst such poets as Stephen Spender and W. H. Auden. By taking the work of so entirely individualistic a poet as Gerard Manley Hopkins as their model, they are condemned at once, on their own showing. They are as rash as the painter who might seek to model himself upon Parmigiano or upon Blake. It is true that the value and deep intrinsic meaning of the work of the artist had been almost entirely discounted by the Victorians. Nowadays, it would be readily admitted by all that any true art is essentially the product of the life of its time, reflecting the thoughts and whole tendency of that particular age.

Sir,—My attention has been drawn to an article on ‘‘The Elements of Social Justice” in the November number of Blackfriars, in which the statement is made that “starting with a sub-committee of the Catholic Social Guild, a programme of Housing plans was circulated among various Utility Societies, with the result that a National Council is to be formed under the presidency of the Chairman of the original C.S.G. Committee.”

This statement is incorrect. A sub-committee of the C.S.G. —the C.S.G. Housing Enquiry—was formed some time ago. It sent out a Housing questionnaire which was not sufficiently supported to be of practical use, and the Committee languished. The Chairman, Lady Sanderson, then called a Women’s Conference of societies interested in Housing, to urge the necessity of a Women’s sub-committe to the Central Advisory Committee under the new Housing Act. This idea was widely accepted; delegates from Public Utility Societies, the National Council of Women, the Federation of Women’s Institutes, the Women's Committee of the Royal Institute of British Architecture, Women Housing Estate Managers, Women Pubilc Health Officers and many others have attended the Conferences and given cogent reasons for their co-operation. As a result of the Conferences it is hoped that the Minister of Health may consent to receive a deputation.

It may fairly be claimed on behalf of the C.S.G. that the inception of the Women’s Housing Conference is due to the initiative of the Chairman of its Housing Enquiry, and that she and the other officers of that enquiry have acted as Chairman, Vice-Chairman and Hon. Secretary of the Women’s Housing Conference.