Item 06: Frank H. Molony diary, 25 March 1918-7 August 1918 - Page 165

[Page 165]

June 18
214.
Talking awhile to Frank D.: Basil is preparing another "Ghutz" and wants a back page: so will probably do again last night's sketch of one of the big windmills by Sylvestre Cappel.

No mail, and an uninteresting day, further evidence of a coming attack with Hazebrouck as an early objective.

Mr. Priestly has gone away for a short rest, and from R.V. Corps a cold cultured Tommy, heavy lidded, wasp-waisted, and the manner of a minor royalty newly elected by a blinded people, has taken his place.

215.
Last night dreamed for second time of late of the Boche bombing us at Bondi, a curious dream of a hundred changes.

216.
Re entry 127 – Tonight I reread it lazing through old entries: it was merely an entry closely following an issue of rum, so I blacked it out.

Years ago in an old exercise I once started a journal of books read, and their personal appeal, going into camp I destroyed part of it, perhaps the whole book, but I forget. But I destroyed it for one entry before others. Coming to the ending of the first of Pater's "Imaginary Portraits", I knew how fully that concluding sentence applied to myself, still it does, but reading it, I wrote a confession of its truth, and a growing desire to surrender fully to the Catholic Church, to put away desire and the world, and to find a silent comeliness and beauty.

Now I am without religion, and I know now it is in her wisdom that Rome will only have compleat surrender, far too personal an attitude is allowed amongst the protestants – it seems even amongst our congregations there is a mutual criticism and an unexpressed wonder at the individual's belief.

So I seek my soul's salvation in Beauty and poetry, and now I am dead if I have not one or the other, and still there comes the desire to have the benediction of Rome, and the peace after the confession.

Would I then be happier? But perhaps that peace would pass, and all quietness too.