The Henson Journals

[70]

Saturday, November 24th, 1923.

I spent the morning in writing letters: &, after lunch, Wynne Willson walked with me in the Park. At 4 p.m. a deputation of six men from the Oxbridge Mission arrived, & poured out their grievances. I was kind but unyielding, and, after they had had tea, they took their leave! It remains to be seen whether grievances can be remedied by allowing the aggrieved to "blow off steam". When they had gone Jimmie Dobbie arrived, and talked with me for half an hour. I gave him a copy of my little book, and told him to let me know what he thought of it. If I could succeed in getting his generation to be frankly communicative to mine, I might possibly bridge the chasm which parts me from the young. But there is something terrible about the affection of a lad of 21. It is so ardent, so transfiguring, so full of homage, while it lasts: but in its inevitable failure, what mischiefs to character may result! Friendship between those who are parted by a whole generation must always be artificial, and can, in the nature of things, never be long lived. Therefore, perhaps, the old ought always to regard it as a temptation, a form of self–indulgence, none the less spiritually enervating because it is so subtly disguised. Or, at least, since the heart even of the old has its rights which may not be disregarded, they should hold the friendship of the young as a very sacred trust, for which they must render account before the Bar of the All Holy.