The Henson Journals

[56]

Tuesday, January 10th, 1928.

A woefully wet day. Ella went with me to Darlington where she had to attend a Committee and I caught the 11.21 a.m. express to King's Cross. I had a carriage to myself, & killed the time with the newspapers & my own thoughts. On arriving in London, I drove to Lambeth, where I found Mrs Davidson at tea, and the Archbishop in bed with a chill. Lord Hugh Cecil was in the drawing–room, but went off immediately. I had a long talk with Sir Lewis Dibdin, who is strongly in favour of meeting the House of Commons by substantial concessions. Indeed, he comes pretty nearly to urging a surrender. [He spoke with much frankness of the Bishop of Worcester, whom he regarded as 'essentially shallow'. He said that the Bishop made no impression of capacity on his fellow–directors of the Clergy Mutual: that he was 'a journalist & nothing more', and that his appointment to the episcopate evoked Homeric laughter from his colleagues in the Times office. It argues some mental power to be a journalist and an antiquarian, and Ernest Pearce is both, but he does not transcend either.]

[57] [symbol]

The floods in London must have been very terrible. Lord Desborough, the Chairman of the Thames Conservancy, is reported to ascribe them to a tidal wave, and says that no effective precaution can be taken against them. The waters rushed into Lambeth Palace, and flooded all the basements.

Sir Thomas Barlow and his daughter were at dinner. The old man said something flatterous about my article on the Quakers in the Edinburgh.

We had a considerable talk on the Situation after dinner. Lang, Donaldson, and I were for standing firm, & conceding nothing but explanatory amendments. Dibdin was as strong for substantial concession. If we had behind us a genuinely united church, our course would be comparatively simple, but the Revised Prayer Book is a most delicately balanced compromise, & any alteration so disorders the balance that the whole structure may collapse. Our brave front in the House of Lords was largely a piece of inevitable bluff. We assumed an agreement which we could not but know does not exist: & when we are required to reproduce it, the chances are heavy against our being able to do so.