The Henson Journals

[26]

Thursday, November 3rd, 1921.

I read Sir Walter Scott's Journal in bed before getting up: it is a book of remarkable interest and pathos, disclosing with rare candour the mind and also the very heart of one of the greater Saints of mankind. The rain fell steadily all day. I left Oxford by the 10.5 a.m : on arriving at Paddington I drove to the Athenaeum, & deposited my bags. Then I went to Dean's Yard, and called on Lea. It appears that they are still wrangling over my taxes. I went to the bookseller, & ordered Lockhart's Life of Scott, & some other books. Then I lunched at the Club. George Macmillan joined me. He expressed himself in almost ardent approval of my Address to the Diocesan Conference. I travelled to Birchington by the 2.5 p.m. train, which brought me in about 4.20 p.m. I found Carissima frail but cheerful. Considering that she is 80 years old, Time has dealt gently with her. She has not the aspect of an aged person. I read the Evening Psalms & Prayers in her room. Then Marion and I played chess together. We are both infamous players, but her badness matches my badness, so that we are not unequally matched. To be quite accurate, she "fool–mated" me straight away, & then I beat her laboriously twice–over! I have reached the stage in life at which every experience has acquired a pathetic uncertainty. Shall I ever visit this house again? Shall I ever see again this person?