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1.
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Miss Haldane.
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2.
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Sir George Adam Smith.
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3.
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Hugh Macmillan.
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4.
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Sir Stamford Downing.
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5.
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John Buchan.
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6.
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Sir John Simon.
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Lionel came with me to Darlington, where I took the early train to King's Cross. I attended the opening of the Church Assembly, when the new President in his opening speech assured us that there was no truth in the story that he had been deterred from visiting the Holy Land by protests from the Vatican. I soon came away as the proceedings were uncommonly dull foolish: wal went to the Club where I found Lord Davidson, who at once opened on "Disestablishment". He spoke kindly, even flatterously, though of course, he could not agree with my conclusion. He asked me whether I had received any communication from important
[153] [symbol] people on the subject of my Charge, and, when I replied in the negative, he said that I probably would hear from some persons of weight. I suggested that he the Archbishop might usefully "explore" the possibilities of disestablishment by consent.
In the Club I picked up the Spectator and read therein a signed review of 'Disestablishment' expressed not unkindly.
Lord Hugh Cecil told me that he had just read through the Charge, which, he thought, was 'beautifully written'. On that point – style – there appears to be general agreement: but that doesn't carry one far.
I dined with Lady Struthers, and "acted as host". In that character I took to dinner the Duchess of Hamilton, whom I found both intelligent and interesting. She was wearing a ring which Mary, Queen of Scots, had worn, which that hapless Queen sent to her husband's ancestor. The party included Lord
Lady Horne, Lord Lady Lazilo (the painter), Philip Gibb, another noble Lord his wife, mine hostess and myself: It was a pleasant evening.
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I obtained from Hugh Rees for my nocturnal reading a disgusting book, translated from the German, which Mr Wheatley, the very admirable assistant, recommended to me – 'Berlin: the Land of Cockaigne by Heinrich Mann'. It professes to be a realistic description of the society of Berlin at the end of the XIXth and beginning of the XXth century: and it may be placed alongside of Zola's Paris, and Upton Sinclair's Boston as a contemporary picture of urban civilization in the West on the eve of its collapse. All three books are poor stuff as literature, being of that realistic photographic type which Zola made fashionable, and revelling in obscene and revolting detail. But they may serve to provide the Apologia for Social Revolution. For the facts which they use as the materials of their indictment of industrialism cannon be questioned, nor their appalling significance denied. We ought not to be indifferent to the scandal, nor blind to the menace which they imply. So far these disgusting books may serve a purpose of righteousness.