The Henson Journals

[160]

Thursday, November 13th, 1930.

I occupied the morning with preparing a sermon. It is a proceeding which does not grow easier as time passes. I reflect sadly that much, very much, of my time and strength has been devoted to it. Might not more have been made of my life if I had been as the rest, a mere chatterer of surface thoughts?

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Baxter, the curate of Hebburn, lunched here, and after lunch I had a 'heart–to–heart' talk to him about the foolish stuff which he has written in the 'Parish Magazine', of which a copy was sent to me last week by some justly–aggrieved parishioner. He is a very feeble specimen, & this "Anglo–Catholick" nonsense is too much for him! Yet he is probably good, &, up to his lights (which, however, are dim) sincere. If he plays the Hildebrand thus as assistant–curate, what would he develope [sic] into as an incumbent?

Miss Headlam arrived to stay the night, and attend some meeting. She is rather a formidable advocate of any cause she elects to champion. Her own parson is, of course, marked out by his position for her victim: I do not envy him his privilege of pasturing such an ewe lamb!

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