The Henson Journals

[227]

Tuesday, April 17th, 1928.

The morning sun flooded my bed–room when the curtains were drawn. This is the first sunshine for nearly a week. After breakfast Arthur shewed me over his garden, which he has made attractive: but he gives me the impression of an unhappy man, tortured, as so many "retired" men of business are apt to be, by the insoluble problem, how to pass "the impracticable hours'. His interests are few: his discontents are many: his expectations as exiguous as his enjoyment. I noticed on his table a copy of Dick Sheppard's foolish book, "The Impatience of a Parson", but I was gratified to hear him condemn it as 'leading to nothing'. This indicated that even the ennui of unemployment had not wholly destroyed his natural good sense. Like so many retired Anglo–Indians he has acquired a querulous manner of speaking, which reminds me of an ailing Scottish house–wife, and "gets on my nerves" terribly. But he has a kind heart, and does many generous things. It hardly needs saying that he abhors "Ritualism", and exults in the vote of the House of Commons on December 15th! The parish church here appears to be "Anglo–Catholick", &, of course, he shares to the full the normal middle–class Englishman's dislike & suspicion of the Bishops!

[228]

I spent the morning mainly in reading the evidence given to the Committee on Street Offences in my absence. There seems some reason for thinking that bribery proceeds in the police–force, though, to what extent, it is hard to say. Also, probably, there are vicious policemen who are in some kind of immoral compact with the prostitutes whom they know, and assist: but not many. Mainly, the system works justly and successfully: & can with difficulty be improved upon. And since prostitution as a "street offence" is clearly vanishing before the spread of respectable prostitution in the community as a whole, and the new condition which have exempted the profession from local oversight & control, there seems no adequate reason for making any alteration.

Arthur Rawle came to tea. He looks wiry & vigorous though he must be getting towards 70 years of age. He can hardly be less than 68. He is a pleasant & cheerful man, but absorbed in his worldly interests. Hunting is the main concern of his life. He doesn't like the Revised Prayer Book!

Ella and I retired to bed, or, perhaps, to use the right phrase "were sent off" to bed shortly after 9.30 p.m., and, such was the failure of conversational resources, were genuinely glad to go! "Brothers are brothers evermore", but, none the less, they can bore one another unendurably!