LOOKING FROM THE LONELY ROCK.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5761, 4 January 1897, Page 4

LOOKING FROM THE LONELY ROCK.

The island of St Paul is merely a great rook 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 a boat containing nine persons— two of them women. They had food — on short allowance, for perhaps a week. In less than three days they were half insane from anxiety. "Vyater, water, water everywhere, but no help. On the fifth day, at dawn, a brig hove to off the island. They saw her. Shouting, praying, weeping, they stumbled to the beach, and were rescued. It was one chance in a hundred. I'll 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 perish of privation in the midst of plenty. It isn't food they long for, but power to use it — worst and deadliest of all wants. "My food seemed to give me no [ strength," says one of this army of unfor- ! tunates, "and as the hopeless, starving days passed slowly by I grew weaker and weaker. By-and-by my legs trembled and bent under inej and I could no longer get about. " The ailment which reduced me to this fearful condition began in the spring of 1892. At first 1 hardly recognised it for what we commonly call a disease. 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: I lost my appetite, and only ate from habit and to keep me going. I had no pleasure in it, 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 I 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 distressed, and my chest and sides full of pain. If you will allow me so to put it, my food appeared to strike back at me, as though I had no right to use it. " There was a nasty bitter flavour in my mouth, more or less headache, and a kind of nervousness, which was new in my experience, as 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 had done. My flesh and strength grew less, and I felt like one who has missed his way and looks in vain for a guide to point the road home. "Finally I commenced attending the Leamington Hospital, and continued to do so for twelve months, but the treatment they gave me had no better effect than all the rest. You can hardly understand how weary I got of taking drugs. I turned almost with loathing from every new dose — not because of the taste, but because they deceived my hopes ; they were of no use to me.

j "In this state I was, when in March, 1894, a friend urged me to try Mother Seigel's Syrup. On account of the very reasons I have mentioned, I hated to experiment with any more medicines. But I overcame this aversion (most fortunately for me) and got a bottle of Mother Seigel's Syrup from Mr Judd, the chemist, in Leamington, and 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. I can only say that by the continued use of the Syrup, I got better daily and was soon as vigorous and well as ever. I have 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, Tach-. brook, near Leamington, September 26th, 1895." We|| hope Miss Eden's recovery may indeed prove permanent, and if it does she will find no words too strong when she speaks of the remedy which wrought it. But oh, tho vast multitude who sjill stand, like the shipwrecked people on the island, looking for rescue ! — victims of that most obdurate, common and baneful of diseases, chronic dyspepsia. It is for their sakes Miss Eden kindly writes her statement, and for their sakes we- print it. May it reach many of them !