The Henson Journals

[175]

Saturday, March 23rd, 1929.

A beautiful fine mild day. The bulbs are bursting through the ground, & the trees begin to spring. I telegraphed to Dr Mess, "crying off" the Conference in Newcastle, which I had promised to attend. But the fineness of the afternoon drew me round the Park with the old doctor.

I worked at the Presidential Address, but not very hopefully. The impasse between Christianity and Civilization seems more final than ever the more it is considered: and it emerges more threateningly than anywhere else in the sphere of education. Our poor little incompetent Sunday Schools, on the one hand: the mighty, articulated, wealthy & aggressive system of State Schools, on the other: and the helpless human material, as plastic as it is unconscious, thrown into the machinery of social life. What can it grow to be? Certainly, something that cannot be called Christian.

Oxford has again lost the boat–race. Why? The evening paper announces that the Dean of Canterbury is to be Bishop of Chichester. Bell is only 46. He also is one of the "Life & Liberty" zealots: &, though a lovable fellow enough, is chockfull of all the usual nonsense – Copec, World Call, &c &c.

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