I recall my teenage years working in the office of The Universe, a rather illustrious name for a Roman Catholic weekly newspaper in London’s Fleet Street – the home of the country’s major newspapers and news agencies at the time. Every few weeks, a formidable man in the Roman Catholic world, Douglas Woodruff, a director of the newspaper and editor of The Tablet, a serious journal reflecting Catholic thought, would visit the office.
The staff dwelt in a simultaneous awe and terror of the man. A presence that bore down on the office workers, Woodruff had an immense frame, long, grey, unkempt hair. He would turn up at the main desk, offer no acknowledgement, or at best, the slightest nod, and walk through to the office of the editor, Christopher Hennessy. The building functioned in a kind of stunned silence knowing he was around. After some time, he would depart and we all breathed a sigh of relief.
The post war English Church regarded Woodruff (1897-1978) as the natural successor to the English essayists and Roman Catholics, G.K. Chesterton (1874 -1936) and Hilalire Belloc (1870 – 1953).
Recently, my daughter asked me if I had any unwanted books to give her as she planned to sell items in a car boot sale. I found among my small mountain of books a book titled “Douglas Woodruff,” a collection of quotations from some of his writings over the years, edited by Mary Craig. I sat on the floor at home reading the writings of the “grand old man of English Catholicism” and his reflections on religion, sociology, politics and people. The book reports that one his typists fainted in terror of his heavy silence around her.
A true Churchman with knowledge of centuries of post Reformation history, he showed an extraordinary sense of commitment and loyalty to the Church and relished with great approval the view of G.K. Chesterton that an open mind should one day close upon firm convictions. I wholeheartedly agree – assuming there is wisdom in the convictions.
Here are a few quotes from the book showing his dry sense of humour never apparent to us in the offices of The Universe.
“The champions of the sweeping liturgical changes of the last few years are fond of claiming that they have sought simplicity and to remove duplications and reiterations, that the essentials may stand out more clearly. It is a dangerous principle for ceremonies that need to be invested with a proper solemnity. They might make their patron the Indiana magistrate who acquired some notoriety in the last century for the way he stripped the marriage ceremony of all accessories and came straight to fundamentals, so that the ceremony lasted under a minute. “Have her?” and when the bridegroom had said “yes”, turned to the bride and said “Have him?” and after her yes, announced “Married. Five dollars.”
“Members of several religious Orders were together in a room one evening when suddenly the light went out leaving them all in darkness. The Benedictine simply went on saying his Office, which he knew by heart anyway. The Franciscan knelt down and began to pray for light. The Dominican suggested to his companions that they should inquire into the nature of light, and consider the consequences of causes that might have led to its failure. But the Jesuit had left the room. He had gone to mend the fuse. “
(Buddhists could take note of above story. CT).
“ I heard recently of a Christian speaker in Hyde Park who declared rhetorically, expecting to get the answer “yes.” “If you had two houses, you would give one to the poor wouldn’t you.?” “Yes,” said the man to whom the question was directed., “indeed I would.” “And if you had two motor-cars,” went on the orator, “you would keep one and give the other away? “ “Yes, of course,” said the man. “And if you had two shirts, you would give one away? “ “Hey, wait a minute,” said the man. “I’ve got two shirts.”
“When Mr Adlai Stevenson heard himself praised in the way chairmen think necessary in introducing speakers, he said: “After hearing what the Chairman has said, I can hardly wait for myself to speak.”
“I cannot really claim to have known the late Nubar Gulbenkian (an eccentric billionaire) very well. Several years ago, at a party, a warm-hearted mutual friend exclaiming “You don’t know Nubar? But you must know Nubar!” took me over and introduced me. He shook hands and then turned to our mutual friend, said to her that he was not interested in meeting new people unless they were very important or very amusing. So that was the end as well as the beginning of our acquaintance.”
I put this book of Woodruff’s writings back on my bookshelf.