The Henson Journals

[349]

Wednesday, February 2nd, 1927.

Today I complete nine years of episcopate. It began in much distress: it has continued in much difficulty: it exists in a deepening discontent. And yet there is much, very much, in it for which, not the morbid melancholy of complaint would be fitting, but a humble thankfulness to the Divine Author of all Good. "Why are thou so vexed, O my soul: and why art thou so disquieted within me? O put thy trust in God: for I will yet thank him, which is the help of my countenance, & my God."

I worked at the Lecture most of the morning, & then Mr Jones the architect expounded to me the perilous state into which the Castle at Durham has come. He says that not less than £80,000 will be required. This is a bad business, and with the 1300th centenary of York Minster monopolizing the public mind this year, there could not be a worse time for raising money. Jones stayed to lunch, and then departed. I walked round the Park with Lionel, & then went through the correspondence.

We motored to Pelton, picking up Wilson and Cecil in Durham on the way, and I instituted the new Vicar, Wellesley Wilkinson, in the squalid church. The wall–eyed curate, Brazier, read the service, & the Rural Dean, who is also the patron of the living, Jackson, inducted the Vicar. I was displeased at the squalour of the Vestry & the chattering of the choir boys. Two youths in much be–laced cotton gave me an ill impression.

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