The Henson Journals

[33]

May 11th, 1901.

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I know not what cloud is upon me: but all this week I have been black in soul. Why this intolerable discontent? The days drift by while I gnaw my soul. It is as absurd as it is un-Christian. Certainly I grow more perplexed daily about the parish. There are very few poor people now left in it, perhaps not more than 300. Of well-to-do residents the number rapidly diminishes: & most of the Parliament folk live out of the parish. And at best these are but resident half the year. Then the modern fashion of going out for week-ends confuses our work still more. Parochially this is a small & unsatisfactory sphere: but, of course, there are other aspects.

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