The Henson Journals

[118]

7th Sunday after Trinity, July 15th, 1923.

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Lord of all power and might, who art the author and giver of all good things; Graft in our hearts the love of thy Name, increase in us true religion, nourish us with all goodness, and of thy great mercy keep us in the same, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

This is a free rendering of the Gelasian collect:–

Deus virtutum cujus est totum quod est optimum, insere pectoribus nostris amorem tui nominis: et proesta in nobis religionis augmentum: ut quoe sunt bona nutrias: ac pietatis studio quoe sunt nutrita custodias. Per dominum.

A week ago my poor sister died, leaving a void that nobody can fill. Such an end to such a life! It shakes one's very soul. Yet there is nothing extraordinary about it, nothing unrepresentative. Only the great Shadow of the World deepens & darkens into a personal tragedy enacted on the petty stage of private life.

I brought away from Birchington the copy of Tennyson's 'In Memoriam' which I gave her as a Birthday present in 1887, the year of my Ordination. I see that I wrote her name in it and added the words, "Now we see through the glass darkly". Then it was my own spiritual perplexity: now it is her extreme secular distress that gives point and reference to the Apostle's words.

[119]

I celebrated the Holy Communion in the Chapel at 8 a.m. Ralph and Kitty communicated. After breakfast I revised a sermon for use tonight and wrote a brief comment on the Anglo–Catholic Congress for the British Weekly. This I showed to Ralph who expressed approval. Lord and Lady Scarborough came to lunch, and completed arrangements for the wedding on the 23rd. I promised that William and the car should be at their disposal on that morning. At 2.30 p.m. there was a Confirmation of adults in the chapel. I confirmed about 100 persons of whom three fourths were women.

Ralph had to attend a Philosophical discussion in Durham, so I dropped him and Kitty at the Bishop of Jarrow's house as I made my way to Sunderland. There I dedicated an Altar (which, however, I carefully described as the Lord's Table) in S. Barnabas' Church, and preached a sermon. Clayton was with me. We supped with the Gouldsmiths. Here we found Sir George Mowbray and his mother. He is nephew to Robert Mowbray, whom once I knew so well at All Souls. He is a pleasant young fellow, just 24 years old (today was his birthday); his father was, I think, the very "advanced" clerical brother who succeeded to the baronetcy on Sir Robert's death. We picked up Ralph and Kitty in Durham and returned to Auckland. Rain began to fall, and we arrived with the car covered.

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