The Henson Journals

[69]

11th Sunday after Trinity, August 27th, 1922.

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O God, who declares thy almighty power most chiefly in showing mercy and pity: mercifully grant unto us such a measure of thy grace, that we, running the way of thy commandments, may obtain thy gracious promises, and be made partakers of thy heavenly promises, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

I celebrated the Holy Communion in the little chapel, using the Scottish Office, which conforms more closely than the English to the norm of the primitive Liturgies. William communicated, together with the Family, but none of the domestics. The suggestion of a persecuted remnant, observing its discipline in secrecy and treasuring its distinctive uses the more since their retention was gained by huge sacrifices, was irresistible: but not only is this suggestion remote from the facts of the present situation (in which the Scottish Episcopalians, so far from being persecuted are rather a fashionable sect, which affects to despise the plebeian crudities of Presbyterian worship) but also it does not easily harmonize with the tamper which ought to belong to "the great Sacrament of Unity". The relatively unfamiliar service (of which, however, I willingly concede the considerable merits) and the comfortless and perplexing vestments did not assist devotion: yet there was something both pleasing and impressive in the spectacle of a family, unanimously devout. It is very difficult to write enthusiasm and tolerance, & it is the sense of exclusive ownership which breeds religious devotion.

[70] [symbol]

[^written in Greek^] partly from disgust of the abominable depravity which flaunts itself on every hand, partly from a secret disappointment that their Religion is so plainly unable to restrain the wickedness of the world. "the love of the many" grows cold in the dark hours of humanity. The charities of Christianity are not prominent among the stern Ascetics, and the timorous Half believers, who abound in such times. "The love of the many" must indicate the general level of Christian feeling and practice. It would be difficult to find a better description of the present state of the religious world in England. There has been a notable lowering of the moral temperature in the Church, and a great increase in theological indifferentism. And this deterioration has been accompanied by a depravation of manners, so marked as to arrest general attention. Religion is discredited even among its professors, who neither command respect nor secure attention. Some withdraw into themselves, and appear to acquiesce in the neglect which they experience. The general indifference seems to be affecting the Churches, which are mostly concerned with discussing their own importance. "There is no open vision". Christ declared that this collapse of faith would be one of the signs of "the coming of the Son of Man". As the age drew to its close amid every kind of terror & calamity, the beginnings of a new era would be seen. But dare we build on our present humiliation any similar hope? May we indeed interpret the bewilderment & confusion of the Churches, & the abounding scandals of society as so many "signs" of a better day about to dawn?

[71] [symbol]

William motored us into Aboyne, where we attended Mattins in the episcopal church, a stone building of some pretensions. The minister, Canon Jones, is an ex Congregationalist minister, and his sermon had the character if dissenting rather than Anglican eloquence. We had more talk about "evolution" than about Christianity, & Darwin was more in evidence than Christ. He did not appear however, to have a clear or accurate understanding of Darwin's teaching: & his text was hardly referred to between its recitation at the start of the sermon, & its repetition at the end. But he had a good voice, and an effective though too dramatic manner of speaking. His sentences were well formed, & occasionally striking. The congregation was attentive if somewhat confused, & interested if not edified. The Bishop of Lincoln was in the congregation, & exchanged civilities after the service. Mine host read the first lesson, & another gentleman the second; both read well for laymen. In the afternoon I slumbered (!) and after tea walked with mine host in the woods. Our conversation was strictly limited to forestry and estate management, topics which interest me rather pathetically as disclosing the serious side of the country gentleman's life – a phase of society which is near to vanishing away.

After dinner, mine hostess begged me to read poetry, & I bored the company by reading Milton's Ode on the Nativity, Wordsworth's Sonnets, & Matthew Arnold. They very civilly expressed themselves in terms of gratitude, but I think their preferences in poetry belonged to a later & a slighter generation of poets!

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