The Henson Journals

[132]

Wednesday, August 20th, 1919.

[symbol]

My dear Cox,

Your letter of Aug 6th came into my hands this morning, having apparently been dropped, unnoticed and unread, by me at the Deanery, Carlisle, where I stayed on August 8th, & been discovered there by the Dean a week later. Yes: I think it might be useful to do what you suggest, and I shd like to send you an article for your January issue, as I expect that the "Church Congress" will give us a good text. The present Bishop of Peterboro "fancies himself" as a Heaven–sent social reformer, & "specializes" on the hallowing of industry: but he is not adequately equipped either with brains or with knowledge for his rôle. I have not yet read your article, though I have heard of it, & want to read it on the first opportunity. If you cd spare a copy, & wd have it sent to the Palace, Hereford. I shd be glad. The Prime Minister's speech seems to please nobody, though, indeed, it is hard to imagine what he can say that is both politic & sincere. I wish Asquith cd go back on the last phases of his public life, recover hold of his old economic faith, & take the Chancellorship of the Exchequer. Austen Chamberlain is an honest & amiable man infected with his father's heresy, & set too high for his powers by his father's fame. [133] I hope to be again in Hereford at the end of the month. If you can spare time for a visit, you know you will be welcome.

Yours ever,

H. H. Hereford

The above was my answer to a belated letter from Harold Cox suggesting that I shd write an article for the Edinburgh with some such title as "The Church & Socialism".

Then I accepted an invitation to preach at a drum head service in Hereford to the demobilised soldiers. These open–air functions are both fatiguing and unedifying. The preacher is physically exhausted, & his hearers are spiritually unhelped. But I dare not lose any opportunity of getting into friendly touch with these men, whose idleness & discontent add the most terrifying element to the Labour trouble of the hour.

Then I wrote to my Godson, Herbert Nicholson, who is making a start at some new work, & writes to me in rather a dejected temper. The multitude of young demobilised men, of whom he is a fair representative, who are embarrassed by the difficulty of getting fitted tolerably into the scheme of a peaceful world, is distressingly great. To have the four years, 18–22 cut out of a young man's life must needs be disturbing in no common degree. The process of learning a trade is cut into, & jeopardised most seriously.

[134] [symbol]

After lunch Dorothy motored Ella, me, & the two children for some miles down the coast to a lobster–catching station, where she bought some lobsters, & sent them back to Fairlie in the car. We then walked home, about 5 miles, along the shore. It would be difficult to find a more interesting and delightful walk. The scene changed constantly, and was always full of beauty. Bold rocky cliffs, like bastions, stood over the road at one point, and underneath them nestled a white–washed farm–house, invested with tragic interest as the scene of a recent crime, in which the farmer & his wife had been brutally murdered, & which yet remained undiscovered. These cliffs declined into a level country, on which the ripe unharvested crops were standing. On the fringe of the sea were a great variety of wild flowers which Doreen with the acquisitive ardour of childhood gathered eagerly. Seawards were the islands & promontories, touched with sun–light or swept by sudden rain–storms, but always amazingly beautiful. Dorothy herself is both an excellent walker, and a pleasant companion. Her conversation completed pleasantly the rich provision of a singularly charming walk. We reached home at tea–time, well–pleased with ourselves, & with one another, agreeably fatigued but nowise over–tired.

---