The Henson Journals

[72]

Friday, September 9th, 1927.

Alexander was the high–water mark of all that was best in Anglicanism. He was tolerant without being unorthodox. I remember the wrath which mantled his gentle face after reading a sermon by Dean Hensley Henson. "He has blasphemed the mother of God!" They are brave words for an Irish primate to utter.

"The End of the Chapter" by Shane Leslie. 4th Edition. Constable & Co 1916

I suppose this happened – if it happened at all – at the time when, perhaps too rashly, but very honestly, I championed Beeby against the oppressive treatment of the Bishop of Birmingham, Gore. I published a slim little foolish booklet, "Sincerity & Subscription", in which I maintained that agnosticism with respect to the "Virgin Birth" of Jesus might be fairly allowed if a frank acceptance of His Incarnation were confessed. That was my belief then: and it remains my belief still. I admitted it when challenged by the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1918, and I said then, as I say now, that it can consist with an ex animo acceptance of the Catholick Creeds as held in the Modern Church.

[73] [symbol]

Lord Haldane is now, at the age of 71, a stout man of medium height, inclining to obesity. He stoops, and carries his head side–wise, walking slowly with the aid of a stick. His countenance is dignified, and benevolent, and he speaks with the manner of one who has handled great affairs, and with the fatigued and slightly sardonic tone of one who has seen and endured much. His conversation is, perhaps, rather excessively egotistical or, at least, ego–centric, and he gives always the impression of standing on the defensive, as if he were seeking an apology for his course of political action. He talks freely of colleagues and opponents, and perhaps his language about them is not rarely backed with a certain mild malignity. I judge him to be a very vain man, and this vanity accords oddly with large knowledge, immense reading, wide experience, & considerably ability. He is not comfortable as a member of the Labour party, & is at small pains to conceal the fact. He imagines himself, indeed, to be, and to be accepted by them as, their counsellor and oracle; in effect, they laugh at his affections of omniscience, and give small heed to his advice. He is now engaged in writing his memoirs, of which he has completed the first seven chapters, but I he will not publish them during his own life–time, as they would inevitably affect many reputations.

[74]

We left Cloan at 10.15 a.m. and motored to Murray–thwaite, where we arrived at 2.20 p.m. Fearne having decided to stay with Mrs Murray until Monday, we went on by ourselves, stopping for tea at Penrith, and arrived at the castle at 6.30 p.m., having traversed 224 miles. The weather, save for a shower early on the journey, was favourable, and we were able to enjoy much fine scenery. The Earl of Feversham's brother and heir, a lad of 17, is reported to have been killed in collision with a lorry or motor–van, he himself driving a small car. This catastrophe, following so closely on the death of Arthur Harding's son, a boy of 15, by a similar accident, brings home the extreme peril to which heedless drivers expose themselves on our congested roads.

I received a pleasant letter from James with the post mark of Valparaiso. He has evidently found himself in his work, though he misses the old helps to goodness:–

"There is one thing that I miss very much here, that is Communion. I shall never forget the parting between you and me, my Lord. I was very pleased that before leaving I went down to your lovely chapel to say a prayer. An honour that I shall never forget."

There is a good sound about this.