"MORE HUMAN-LIKE SINCE HE CAME BACK FROM THE WAR."

Otago Daily Times, Issue 16889, 29 December 1916, Page 3

"MORE HUMAN-LIKE SINCE HE CAME BACK FROM THE WAR."

WHAT FAIWEII SMITH HAD TO SAY ACUUT TIIR " PASSON."

Tlcro is an illuminating and prophetic glimpse of ono elt'cct of tho war. Tho sketch is by an officer, at tho front, and appeared in" tho livening Nowr.: — " ' l'iisson 'o do preach a 'mazin , foino zumion, but 'o bo a bit over my head like. Zumti tries I wonders if 'e quite zees things in the zanio zoit o' way as wo do. 'E's torrible hard on a zinner." "So runs tho comment of Farmer Smith to His neighbour, as they slowly mako their way down tho churchyard path at tho close of evensong, it was a sceno far an artist, that service from -which they had just emerged. ...

—The Heathen.—

" Immaculate in white surplice and crimson stole, the vicar is concluding his sermon, an appeal for tho mission to Polynesian natives. In measured and cultural tones ho begs for that assistance which is so necessary to carry on the work among ' the poor benighted heathen,' and to bring them from that darkness in which they livo into tho bright light of religion and civilisation—to bring them, in fact, though he does not say so in fo many words, into that blissful state of existence in which his congregation are permitted to dwell. To them much has been given, from them mu;ii will be expected.

—So Typically English.—

"It is all so typically English—the beautiful interior, the reverent and -welldressed congregation, tho dignified and well-ordered service, the last dying rays of tho Mm lighting up the old oak carving, and ontsi-dt) God'.s Acre, where the branches of the ancient yews wave over the la_st resting-places of generations of villagers. " The semion draws to a close with a last forceful appeal, and as the shadows lengthen on the old Norman pillars and the light of day gives way to that of candle and lamp, tho notes of tho closing hymn peal through the old church. It is tho idea] hymn for the close of an evening service, a hymn of unutterable beauty and sweetness: Swift to its close ebbs oirt life's littlo day, Earth's joys grow dim. its glories paee away, Chango and decay in all round I eee, O Thou who changest not, abide with rnc

"It is late on the Sunday afternoon, rvnd under the shadow of a few trees about a couple of miles behind the line there lie a crowd of rough and somewhat dishevelled officers and soldiers, who have just come out of the trenches and are awaiting the coming of the padre for a Sunday afternoon voluntary service. "It is a strange setting for a religious service Around lias the debris of a bivouac, empty jam-tins and biscuit boxes, with piles of barbed wire, ammunition boxes, entrenching tools, and all the unpicturesque impedimenta required by trench warfare. Washing hangs from every tree and bush. — The Padre Rolls Up.—

• "It is at this moment that the padre rolls up on a bicycle, no light, easyrunning machine, but the old steam-roller Government issue that will stand anything, but requires almost unusual strength to push it along. 'Sorry to be late, sir,' ho apologises to tho senior officer present, 'but the last lot at X (four miles away) wanted a couple of extra hymns, and it made me a, bit late. If yovrro ready now we'll push ahead. I've done four turns— I mean services—to-day, and I'm booked for another three yet, and am running a little behind scheduled time.'

"Tho congregation gather round, Churchmen, Nonconformists, Presbyterians, and even a stray Indian who is passing comes up and looks on with curiosity at the service of the white sahibs.

"Sect matters little; the service is wide enough for all, and differences of doctrine fade away in tho presence of the elemental. A few short prayers, a lesson, a couple of hymns, and then a five-minutes' sermon, a manly, modest sermon, that not only braces each one to duty, but carries many a, thought rjack to the home across the Channel.

— Punctuating the Hymn.— " The assembly rise from their sitting posture to receive tho blessing, and then addressing them, the padre says: 'Before we sing "The King" I expect you fellows would like another hymn. Will someone please chooso one?' There is a silence for a moment, and then a most unlikelylooking person—one of the 'tough nnts' of the unit, whose very presence at a voluntary service is a source of wonder, suggests 'Abide with me.'

"It is at this moment that the German batteries commence their usual spell of evening hate, and almost punctuating the ■words of the hymn come the sound of the guns that are carrying mutilation and death to onr comrades *un yonder.'

Swift to its close (boom) ebbs out life's Kttlo day (boom, boom), Earth's joye grow dim, its glories pass away (boom), Chnngo and decay in all around I sec (boom), O Thou who changest not (boom), abide with mo (boom, boom).

— A British Cemefcerv.—

"' The Ivord crave and the Lord hath taken away, biossed be the Name of the Lord.'

" The well-trained and modulated 'voice rings clear in the night air, but there is more than a suspicion of a sob in it. The sceno is a British cemetery at the front, and it is the evening following an attack. Hero lies part of the harvest of one man's vanity and lust of power, a long, long trench (My God, how long!) in which shonldcr to shoulder, even as they charged in that last grand rush, rest those who have fallen. Only a portion of the day's harvest of death, but everyone of these silent figures means at least one homo plunged into bitter brief and lifelong sorrow. . . . "The death-dealing chorus Is bursting out with renewed fury, but still the steady voice gooa on: 'Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, for o≤ much as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord. , — More Merciful than Man.—

'"My Gawd, I'm 'it.' "A gurgling, half-choking cry, and dropping from tlio platform, 0136 Private William Jones dropped in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the trench. Only a cajninltv, just one of a large unit, a mere molecule in the great mass, bnt still somebody's child. "A soiled khaki ficuro whose Maltese Crosses on his tunic alone tell his vocation, hurries np from where he has just concluded band aping a wounded man, and gently raises the dying man's head. " 'Don't trouble, padre,' the words came in fitful gasps, 'I'm done in, my number's irp. I've been a bad lot, but I tried to do ipv little bit.'

" 'God knows,' nnd thero was a world of pathos in tho tone, 'and Ho is more merciful than man.'

— Back A pain.—

" Tho sermon was drawing to an end, as the shadows lengthened in {ho old parish church. " 'And so each man shall be judged according to his lights: from some much shall be expected, from others little, and ma.ny who in this world in our limited judgment did poorly, shall at the Great Examination bo found to have indeed "made good" ' " 'And now to God the Father. . . henceforth and for evermore. Amen.'

" There was a rustling of "pages as the congregation found the closing hymn, under cover of which Farmer Smith murmurs to his neighbour, 'Parson 'e do seem a hundred times more human-like since 'e canie back from tho wax.' "

— Rumania's total able-bodied manhood, if it include men np to the extreme ace. limit cf 46, falls little short of 1.100.0C0. This remarkably high percentage out of a total population of. roughly. '7,500.0C0 i* explained by tho marked excess of inalo over female births in Ihi> Danuhian kingdom, an excess which averages as much as 8 per cent The same phenomenon is observed in other mountainous countries subject to violent climatic alternations of extreme heal; and extreme cold. No wonder tha:, in Rumania spinstcrhood after 25 is almost unknown.