Ture island of St. Paul is merely a great rock in the Southern Ocean, It is the top of a volcanic mountain. There are no means of sustaining life to be found on it. The nearest inhabited land is Australia or Africa. To that ugly and desolate refuge came x boat containing nine persons—two of them women, They hud food—on short allowance, for perhaps a week. In less than three days they were half insane from anxiety. Water, water, water everywhere, but no help. On the fifth Jay, at daw brig have to off the island, They sow her. Shouting, praying. weeping. they stumbled to the beach. and were rescue. It was one chance in a hundred. Til tell you why some other time.
But, alas! isn't it as bad or even worse on land?'Look at the physical wrecks in homes, in hospitals, and answer me. One perishes of privation from shipwreck A thousand irish of privation in the midst of plenty. Tt isn't food they long for, but power fo use it—worst and deadliest of all wants, My fond seemed to give me no strength," says one of this army of unfortunates, "and ax the hopeless, starving days passed slowly by Igrew weaker and weaker. By-and-by my legs trembled and bent under me, and I could no longer get about.
rent which reduced me to th fearful condition begun in the spring of 18% At first I hardly recognised it for what we commonly call adiseas®, I felt tired, heavy, and languid, as one often does on the approach of warm weather. I fancied it would pass away, but it did not. Tlost my appetite, and only ate from habit and to keep me going. T had no pleasure mit, and no warmth or glow followed it, as happens always when one is well. No matter how light and simple the repast was, or how careful had been to select things that would not be apt to hurt me, the result was the same—No-sooner had I swallowed it than my stomach was di tressed, and my chest and sides full of pain. If you will allow me so to put it, my food appear d to strike back at m+ as though T had no right to use "There was a nasty bitter flay-ur-in my, mouth, more or less headache, and a kind of nervousness, which was new in my experience, ne it was depressing and cheerless.
Home remedies failing to help me, I consulted a doctor, but his prescriptions benefited me no more than our domestic medicines bad done. My flesh anid strength grew less, and I felt like one who has missed his way and looks in vain for a guide to point the rosd home "Finally I commenced attending the Leamington Hospital and continued to do so for twelve months, but the treatment they gave m> had no better effect than all the. rest. You can hardly understand how weary I got of taking drags. I turned almost with loathing- from every new dose—not because of the taste, but. ise they deceived my hopes; they were of-no use to "In this state I was, when in March, 1894, a frien! urged me to try Mother Seigel': Syrap. On account of the very reasons I have mention hated to experiment with any more medic But I overcome this aversion (most fortunately for me) and got a bottle of Mother -Seigel's from Mr. Judd, the chemist, in Leamington,-atd after taking it I felt a marked and. great improvement. I had no pain after eating and my food felt right, digested, and gave me strength. And as I grew stronger my nerves ceased to trouble me. Tenn only say that by the continued use of the Syrup I got better daily and was soon as vigorous and well as ever. Ihave had no relapse, and have every reason to think my cure a permanent one. {You are welcome to publish my letter. (Signed) (Miss) Lucy Eden, Tachbrook, near Leamington, September 26th, 1895."
We hope Miss Eden's recovery may indyed prove permanent, and if it does she will find no words too strong when she speaks of. the remedy. which wrought it. But oh,' the vast multitude who still stand like the shipwrecked people on the island, looking for rescue!—victims of "that most obdurate, common and baneful of diseases, chronic dyspersia. It is for their sakes Miss Eden Sindly writes her statement, and for their sakes we print it, May it teach muy of them.
(4) 11, 18 & M5de 182
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.