The Henson Journals

[109]

11th Sunday after Trinity, August 15th, 1926.

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The last Sunday of a bishop's holiday must needs induce in him the mood of self–questioning. What will have been the outcome of these weeks of leisure? Has anything been garnered for future use from the experiences of these weeks of absenteeism from duty? I have preached less this year than in any year since I was ordained. Since I fainted in the Westminster Chapel on March 7th, I have only preached two sermons of importance, the Robertson Centenary Sermon at Brighton on April 21st, and the Hereford Commemoration Sermon on July 30th. The dentist and surgeon have put me out of action for six months. Has this implied any loss to the diocese? Has it brought any advantage to me? This woeful "stoppage" has overshadowed everything: and the intervention of the Ten Bishops has driven me to write two letters to the Times, of which the one appeared on June 22nd and the other on August 13th. These letters must leave no trace of dubiety as to my attitude towards "Labour", organized on Socialistic lines, & even tending to the violent Communism of Russia. Almost inevitably I am being driven into a confessed support of the Conservative party, which (since the practical dissolution of the Liberal party) is the only defence of constitutional liberty. This circumstance will not facilitate my diocesan administration, for my diocese is dominated by communistic "Labour". Unthinking persons, like Moore Ede, will make contrasts between Bishop Westcott and his successor, very unfavourable to the latter, and the clergy, who have enjoyed much unmerited credit with their Trade–Union parishioners by reason of the Westcott legend, will be predisposed to accept the unfavourable view thus suggested. Altogether the episcopal outlook is disconcerting.

[110]

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The worst of letters in the Times is that the narrowness of the limits within which they must be kept makes it quite impossible to balance one's statements adequately. What is not said is supposed to be forgotten or denied, and so every letter becomes a fountain of fresh misunderstandings, and the occasion of undeserved censure. If you condemn Socialism, you are immediately credited with the obsolete and irrational individualism of the early xixth century: if you disapprove of clerical meddling in labour disputes, it is assumed that you would banish the clergyman from all contact with active life: if you consider the political vagaries of the Trade–Unions, it is immediately supposed that you deny them any functions at all. So certain and so formidable is the misrepresentation that follows every letter in the Times that it becomes a question whether any good that it can do will not be outweighed by the ill which it will occasion. The Editor's patience gives me larger space than most correspondents require, or, at least, use: and yet I never read a letter of my own in the columns of the Times without the wish that I could have anticipated criticisms and denunciations by inserting caveats and explanations, which ought to be unnecessary, if readers were candid as well as intelligent, but which are imperatively needed since for the most part they are neither.

The parson sent me a note asking me to preach at Mattins. I replied that I could not preach without preparation, but that I would willingly celebrate after Mattins. There was a fair congregation, and the service was reverently carried through. I read the lessons, and celebrated. The new Vicar preached very shortly, but I could not hear what he said, being seated in the sanctuary the length of the chancel behind him. On the whole I was pleased with the service, and inclined to discount the discontents of the people. There were 5 small boys in surplices, & some small girls, who formed the choir. All the adult choristers have resigned.

[111]

I wrote to Brooke Westcott, taking occasion to set out the reasons why the action which his grandfather, Bishop Westcott, took in the coal–strike of 1895, could hardly be reasonably attempted in the present dispute. I suspect that he is often reminded of that action, and the contrast between Bishop Westcott and his degenerate successor pleasantly emphasized! I gave Ella a five pound note for the young Anglo–Catholick's railway fare! There is a certain humourousness in this performance. Also, I wrote to my brother Arthur.

Ella and I attended Evensong in the parish church, & sate in the Hall pew within the chancel, a position of more dignity than convenience, for we could make out but little of the sermon, though we were within a few feet of the preacher. There was a good congregation, but no more than the children in the choir–stalls. The disgruntled Choirmen sate in the congregation, and sang lustily. If it had not been for the knowledge that their minds were filled with resentment against the Vicar's wife, I could have approved the arrangement, which certainly assisted the worship of the congregation very notably. On the whole I incline to think that this rebellion of the choir reflects as much discredit on the late Vicar, as on the present parson's wife. If Mr Boyce had not allowed the choir to take a thoroughly conceited view of their service in the Church, they would hardly have resented so vehemently the new management to which on his departure they found themselves subjected. I told Miles that he ought to use his influence to get the choirmen to return to their duty, and should facilitate their return by setting them an example. And, to do him justice, I think he is disposed to make the attempt.

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