The Henson Journals

[79]

Wednesday, November 12th, 1924.

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A most beautiful calm sunny late–autumnal day. I took the dogs round the Park, and revelled in its beauty. In the course of the morning I visited Mr Spedding, the dentist. He seems to "shut the mouths" of many bishops! Then I prepared an address for use later.

Ella accompanied me and Clayton as far as Durham, where she went to Canon Cruickshank's house to dine with the Judge; and we went to Hebburn, where S. Cuthbert's Church was celebrating its "Jubilee". The incumbent – an undersized hirsute plain man named Marr – is, it is said, and I believe it, fashioned of the stuff whereof the calendared saints are made. He has toiled in that unlovely slum for 23 years, and remains a cheerful, good pastor at the end of the time, unsoured, unambitious, unfanatical. He is, indeed, an "Anglo–Catholick", but belongs to the relatively reasonable section of that faction. I was glad to go, and speak laudably of him to his people. Hard by the parish church is a rather conspicuous "Papist Chapel", and it was eagerly noted that a Papist had adventured himself into our service! On our way back to Auckland, we stopped at the College, and recovered Ella. I sate down for a few minutes and talked with Talbot. The Dean, vast and scowling, gave me but a sulky welcome!

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