GOOD OUT OF EVIL. (From the Globe.)

Daily Southern Cross, Volume XII, Issue 827, 1 June 1855, Page 2 (Supplement)

GOOD OUT OF EVIL. (From the Globe.)

War is by no means the unmixed evil that it is sometimes made to appear by Mr. Bright and those who think with him. It certainly seems a very absurd and barbarous thing for intelligent beings to meet together for the purpose of mutual destruction. Only think of what has been taking place iuring the last four months. Hundreds of men have left their peaceful homes to suffer indescribable agonies, or to be smitten with death in various forms. Thousands, at this moment, are enduring hardships and privations, to read of which makes the blood run cold. And yet no one flinches. There is no young man within the boundaries of these kingdoms who is not stirred to wild enthusiasm by the perusal of the heroic deeds of his couutrymen. Gladly would he fly from the desk and the counter, in order to have some share in the glorious work which the swords of England and France will presently achieve. Heroism is contagious ; peace has not spoiled us j the repose of forty years has not taken away the foundations of our strength; the energetic wiil which raised this country to her high position has not yet ceased to animate, the breasts of all her sons. This revival of a spirit which was said to bare been lost we owe undoubtedly to war. No one who will take the trouble to compare the condition of public feeling in this country at the present time wiih wiiat it was six months ago can deny that its tone is nio'e manly, more elevated, and considerably less selfish. But let him who wishes to look on the brighter features in the otherwise dark picture of war pay , a visit to the hospitals at Scutari. Let him pass from cot to cot through those crowded rooms. Let him closely scan the features of the wounded men, who risked death, and won imperishable renown, amid the swamps at Vai na r or on the glorious and S'-arcely more fatal battle fields of Alma, Balaclava, <*nd lukcrmann. Truly enough, he will witne?s what will try the stoutest nerves. He will see hu.nan sufferiug'in all its most terrible forms. He will see men, who lately left these shores buoyant with hope, exulting in the con-tciousnef-s of strength and courage, laid low in sickness or sinking into death. But even in that home of pain and sorrow, there is considerable cause for pride 'and satisfaction. The gallant fellows who now throng that hospital, are not 'strangers in a strange land.' They know that their sufferings in the noblest cause in which swords were ever drawn, have evoked unbounded sympathy. They know that amid all the hurry of business, the turmoil of politics, or the number occupations of domestic life, the thought which keeps possession of all English hearts 'at home' is how we may reward and console the brave men who are contending for the liberties of the world. And many a one has left the Christmas fireside in order to minister to the wants of the soldier patients in the far-off hospital. By the bed of the dying man is seated the tender nurse, or some English gentleman who spends his day in writing letters for the sick soldier. But what if the hospital a Scutari should prove the occasion of a more kindly feeling between. the most strenuous advocates of rival religious. It was only last Sunday that Dr. Cumraiug second to none in his hostility to Rome — read from his pulpit a letter written by a Romish Sister of Mercy to the wife of a Scotch Fusilier sergeant, who has died from wounds received at Inkerraann. It appears that the wounded soldier, unable to procure the services of a minister of his own religion, was attended in his last moments by one of the Church of England Chaplains, and by pister Mary Gonzag'a, a Roman Catholic. , This lady it was who wjrpte the letter, read

publicly the other day hj Dr. Cumming. It is a real satisfaction to know that, in the terrible presence of death and suffering, religious distinctions lose their force, and that a Christian charity carried out at Scutari, has won the admiration of not the least decided religious partisan of his day. ' | i s I

IJow to Fatten Dorkings. —To produce the fat fowls that are seen in greater perfection in the London markets than elsewhere, and which are generally termed (although they are not) capons, Dorkings are cooped for fatting at the age of three to four months in summer, and five to six' in winter being fed with oatmeal, mixed with water or milk; this must be given fresh three times a day, the first meal being early in the morning; aDd, in addition, the birds should be supplied with whole corn (either dry or boiled), gravel, clean water, and a turf or green meat; the most scrupulous cleanliness as to troughs, coops, &c, being observed. By these means a fowl, if previously well fed, will be fat enough, for any useful purpose in a fortnight or three weeks; should they be required very fat, some mutton suet, or wh it is equally good, the pah ings of the loins of mutton, may be chopped up with the food. The unnatural process of cramming is frequently recommended, but I have nevrr found it necessary. It should be borne in mind that a fowl cannot be kept in the greatest degree of fat-ne-s for any length of time, as the over repletion soon causes internal disease. The houses must be dry, quiet', daik, and warm, and the fatting coops carefully kept from draught, and warmly covered a£ night during <cold weather. — 'legetmeter s Profitable Poultry.