I read more of "Faust" and spent a lot of time in loose reflection - vaguely on a new play and on my next Evening Standard article. I went for a walk right down over Chelsea Bridge and along Battersea Park Road, and home by Albert Bridge Road and King's Road. Then I filled up the time in writing to Phillpotts about Hardy's funeral. The more I think of it the more wrong it seems to me that Hardy's wish to be buried in his native Dorset was peremptorily set aside. Surely the disposal of our bodies after death is a matter where our wishes should be respected? I certainly hope mine will be. I want to go into Burslem Cemetery and will make my wish well known before I go! I don't think Hardy even believed in God, though he wouldn't say so directly. I wish now I had asked him when we met. This business of grand funerals is all about the established church attempting to demonstrate that it still has a valuable role to play. I give it another 50 years and it will have withered away.
|Battersea Park Road|
We dined this evening at Mrs. Patrick Campbell's across the Square.