"FROM MY HOSPITAL WINDOW."

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 58, 9 March 1935, Page 2 (Supplement)

"FROM MY HOSPITAL WINDOW."

REFLECTIONS OF A PATIENT. (By S.) Two weeks ago I wrote about Hiram •Golf and his quaint, humorouslycouched sayings and unshakable faith, given us in a cheap reprint by Angus and Eobertson. This week I want to draw the attention of readers of this column to another little book issued by the same publishers. It is called "From My Hospital Window,"* and gives us the thoughts, during hie convalescence, of a well-known Sydney man, Mr. James Green, who, as his nurse humorously put it, had been eliminated of an appendix. Tho "elimination" had taken place in tho War Memorial Hospital, Sydney (Mr. Green had done his bit in the war, and had been given the volunteer officers', decoration for his war services, and made a Companion of the Order of St. Michael and St. George), and it was in this hospital, in the leisure that was thrust on him as he lay in bed, that "From My Hospital Window" took shape.

A thoughtful, observant, earnestminded man, able to wield his pen to good account, he takes stock of the things which were nearest to him, and then of the problems of the wider world, chiefly the problems affecting religion, the Christian Church, and the sanity of democracy. He aptly begins by telling us of his discovery that the small world on which lie looks out of a morning was not so small or so uninteresting as one would think, and then he looks out in thought on the larger and more varied world beyond, and reflects, in nearly a score of essays, on such topics as "Is the world getting better?" "The brave doub£er," "The simple believer," "The zeal of perverts" and "If Russia had chosen Henry George instead of Karl Marx." And on all these, and such-like matters of current interest, he lias something to say that is fresh and suggestive.

Commenting on the visit of a clerical visitor to the hospital on Sunday mornings and his prayers, he says: "I have never realised until now what a comfort it is, when we are ill, to have someone to pray with us. Sometimes we seem to possess insufficient physical strength and the necessary mental clarity to pray, but we want God, and how wonderful it is that, others can take our thoughts and desires to God." As he lies here on his back, he learns, he tells us, the need, of being cured of "our tendency to pettiness and selfishness, and the grossness which denies that we are souls." He reflects on "the people who will have it that the world is getting worse," and "who seem really glad about it." "Perhaps," he says, "it is a subtle form of spiritual pride— because they are in the 'little flock' who are to receive 'the kingdom.'" Referring to the zeal of perverts, he likens them to a will-o'-the-wisp. "They draw Christian men and women from the plain path of duty, at the very time when Christian devotion and witnessing to Christ is most necessary. The ordinary means of grace, the simple plan of salvation, the problems of personal conduct and life, seem 'small beer' alongside these highly coloured catastrophes and hectic hopes." "The fundamental truths," he goes on, "the things that really count in our salvation, vastly outnumber these very debatable and little understood 'end-of-the-world,' millennial and Armageddon references in the Bible, and yet we seek out the obscure, highly dramatise it until it sta'nds out lurid beyond the more vital features of the Gospel story, and, as a result, men hold and preach a gospel which is out of perspective and powerless to reform character and save souls." How true! I have no space for further extracts from this inost interesting book, so human, so sane, so generally sound. Xo one can read it without receiving mental stimulation and refreshment, and getting a deepened interest in, and understanding of, the times in which we are living. ♦"From My Hospital Window," by James Green, C.M.G., V.D. and Kobertson).