The Henson Journals

[135]

Thursday, June 1st, 1922.

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Two years ago, on this day, I received the Prime Minister's proposal that I should become Bishop of Durham. That year 1920 was something of an annus mirabilis in my life. The Lambeth Conference & the visit to Sweden, followed by the unforgettable service in Durham Cathedral on October 30th, must always give it exceptional importance in my life. My episcopate started under the heavy shadow of obstinate & protracted economic strife, and even now nothing can be truly described as normal.

The young thrushes have taken wing. These had gone before chapel–service at 8.45 a.m., and the last took flight in the course of the morning. That they should have been successfully reared in such a place is a subject of legitimate satisfaction to a bird lover.

Canon Jones, an old canting Irishman, came to see me with reference to his absurd curate, & stayed to lunch.

After lunch, Clayton & I motored to Wolsingham, where I confirmed 49 candidates. After tea at the Rectory, we motored to Crook, where I confirmed 122 candidates. Then we returned to the Castle, where we arrived about 8.45 p.m.

Ella and Fearne returned from Scotland in the course of the afternoon.

The poisoning scoundrel Armstrong was hanged yesterday, leaving the world something less depraved by his departure. This, & Bottomley's conviction, are morally bracing events.

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