THE BOOKMAN

Evening Post, Volume CIII, Issue 53, 4 March 1922, Page 15

THE BOOKMAN

.'.'The Story of Two Campaigns." By Sergeant 0. G. Nicol. Auckland: Wilson and Hovton.

Sergeant Nicol's book is the official war history of the Auckland Mounted Rifles .Regiment, 1914-1919. But it ia more than a war history—it is in the true sense of the words "the book of the regiment." And it is in this that it ditfers ao very materially from some of the other regimental histories published to date. . While paying strict attention to the actions in which the regiment took part Sergeant Nicol has given a deal of ability to bringing out the spirit of the regiment, upon which depends to such a degree the success of any unit on active service. His book, therefore, is no dry-as-duat, official record of actions fought. He gives his civilian readers much more than a glimpae of the family life of the regiment, and puts on record for the troopers themselves little (not necessarily associated with the actual fighting) which in later days men *ho were there, will probably much rather treasure than memories of battles. He paints what it is :so^ hard for the civilian to . understand—the spirit which made it the' unwritten law that everything must be made the subject of mirth, even if it were bitter mirth. Maybe it was this strange attitude of mind which made up much of the strength of the British armies, and which apparently had no counter-part; ;> in the German machine. There ■ are no records of the enemy laughing at misfortune. Fine passages are to be found in the book. ■ For instance, Sergeant Nicol describes the effect of the first contact with the mysterious East. "The splendour of the Orient sky; the eternal desert, so quiet .and still and mysterious, so alluring in that strange grey light which hides more than it reveals, whispered its seductive enchantments to these men from the distant green southern islands,\and filled their hearts with a strange yearning and longing to go out into the sandy waste and seek the Thing that called. . . These soldiers, "so uiflike the warriors who once went that way, gazed in thrilled sifence at the scene but felt'more than they saw. Since ihen they have learned the moods of the mocking, pitiless desert; they have suffered its thirst, endured its angry heat and choked in its storm-lifted dust and sand. They sometimes curse the desert, but the beauty, the charm, the lure^ the haunting, whispered appeal of that night will always remain with them, for that night they stepped on to the famous stage whereon the greatest drama of all was to be enacted." ( The book is of less than 300 pages, but in that space Sergeant Nicol has written in brisk narrative style the whole story of the regiment. His is a difficult task well done. . ' •

"The Life of Florence Barclay." By One of Her Daughters. London and New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. . * . .

"The Life of Florence Barclay," the | writer ,oi yThe Rosary," as written with loving apjfreciation by one of her daughters, discloses a life story which is an example and inspiration to all women. A clergyman's daughter and wife, and the mother of eight children, this splendid woman-did her duty in each situation so admirably that 'the reader is lost, in admiration and wonder at the amount of good work she accomplished. As a child her fine contralto voice led the choir, and her musjeal gifts were used for the service of God in church and in social parish work. Married at eighteen to the Bey. Mr. Barclay, who fell in love with "Iflorrie Charlesworth" when she was but a child, she made her wedding tour to the Holy Land, and gathered beautiful impressions which were given to great audiences in America, many years later, when Mrs) Barclay was induced to join a Chautauqua and tour the States..

One of her early and successful efforts was the forming of a men's Bible class and service conducted by herself. This continued for nearly' thirty years, and the fame of it spread abroad. Her women's class soon'contained 500 members, with an average attendance of from 300 to 400, with as many as 1000 people on Good Friday, when the members were free to Bring their men relatives. v '

Her children wera brought up to reverence as well as love their parents, so that no department of life was neglected. Mrs. Barclay was possessed of wonderful telepathic gifta, bat was absolutely disapproving of what is known as Spiritualism. She was, a good sport— a wonderful swimmer, and good at golf and tennis, while at St. Moritz-shej proved a Winner at a ski-ing contest.' Her power over animals w&3 also extraordinary, even fish being tamed and taught by he?; and remembering her year by year when she returned to their haunts. "Life to her," writes her daughter, "wag a joyful adventure made up of experiences, happy and sad, beautiful and unbeaatiful. . , She was as coriscioufc of the life of her soul as she was of the life of her body; and equally conscious was she of the souls of her fellow men." Her courtesy to all was unfailing, and the, daily chopping, etc., was always a transaction of friendliness.- In 1905 Mrs. Barclay wrote a little story, "The Wheels of Time," and in the meantime "The Eoaary" was forming'itself in.her mind. This book was accepted at once by Messrs. Putnam's, of New York, and published there as in London at the same time. By the end of the first year 150,000 copies had been 'sold, and now it has been translated into eight languages, and over a million copies have been sold. : The sympathy of the book seems, to havo been largely its'charm J and many < letters to the gifted author testify to its value. ' A dozen other ■ works- followed, and each in its way v/as a great success.

After many years of much-blessed parish -work, Mrs. Barclay andjier husband. and family returned to Limpsfield, where the happy days of her youth had been passed, and there'it was that she became seriously ill. An operation was deemed necessary, and to that she went full^ o/»ehecrfulnes3 and thought for others, and in her daughter's^ words again, "She welcomed the, doctors with her brave, radiant smile, -and then she just went to sleep, and never woke up again. ... it seemed indeed as if a

fiery chariot 1 had whirled her away from our midst into the presence of God." No words could add, to this beautiful tribute.'Vhich emphasises the fact of the world being the poorer for the removal of such a pure and powerful personality.

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