PREJUDICES, which have been imbibed in our early days, received from thoſe we eſteem and reverence, and ſupported by the authority of paſt ages, muſt needs make impreſſions upon the moſt candid and ingenuous minds; particularly when almoſt every day produces ſtrange and wonderful ſtories to corroborate the ſuppoſed fact.

The various blemiſhes frequently diſcovered upon children at the birth, have been generally conſidered as the effect of a fright, or a diſappointment of the mother's longings: and indeed this opinion has ſo far prevailed, that it has been, for a long time paſt, looked upon as inconteſtible. Should any one, therefore, preſumptuouſly dare to deny this amazing peculiarity in pregnant women, and the conſequent effect upon the embryo, he muſt expect nothing leſs than the general cenſures of the female world. Beſides, the many poſitive aſſertions upon this head, from the moſt ſenſible perſons of undoubted veracity, will naturally lead a prudent man to ſpeak with caution againſt the doctrine. Nevertheleſs, it ſurely cannot be improper to make a candid enquiry into ſo wonderful a phenomenon.

It is a ſubject by far the moſt intereſting to the ladies: it comes, indeed, particularly under their cognizance; for the dreaded evil affects the fair ſex much more eſſentially than it does ours. With my female friends, therefore, I beg leave to diſcuſs this important point.

It is by every one allowed, to the honour of this nation, (and let particular commendation be given to the daughters of Great-Britain themſelves), that in the education of young women, letters, and the polite improvements, are much more attended to in this age than formerly; accompliſhments which not only render their manners more engaging, but qualify them likewiſe for the happy domeſtic life; and contribute much to adorn theſe amiable and ſweetly-endearing companions of the ſocial hour. How eſſentially neceſſary is ſuch a friend, to make life comfortable and happy!

What a luſtre does every good and accompliſhed woman add to the matrimonial ſtate! —She muſt by every reaſonable man be conſidred not only as the partner of his bed, but of his very ſoul.

I can at this readily call to mind many ſuch exalted characters, to whom in a moſt particular manner I now addreſs myſelf.— women, whoſe enlarged minds are capable of a much greater depth of reaſoning than theſe ſpeculations will afford; and in whoſe company I have oftentimes enjoyed the happineſs of friendly converſation—with whom, upon different occaſions, I have, in part, entered into the ſubject of this, and the following letters. It is, indeed, at the requeſt of ſeveral of theſe my worthy female friends, that I have been induced to collect my thoughts, in order to deliver them to the public.

Ignorance, my fair readers, is the parent of credulity and ſuperſtition. Knowledge is the conqueror that triumphs over ſuch terrible foes. How much is the underſtanding enlightened and improved by the uſe of letters? When therefore we conſider that the art of printing was not diſcovered until the fifteenth century, and it was a long time after that before it became univerſal in Europe, we ſhall not greatly wonder at the bigotry and rudeneſs of manners in our anceſtors; and we ſhall ceaſe to reflect upon thoſe credolous times.

To the ſcore of ignorance we are to place the many and hideous ſtories which have been formerly related of apparitions, goblins, and witches, that have at times infeſted different parts of Europe; and even in England have claimed the attention of civil and eccleſiaſtical power: inſtances of which are to be found in our hiſtory.

At this period I believe there are but few who give credit to ſuch romances. The Spectator and his cotemporaries pretty well cleared the country of witches. As to ghoſts, the laſt that made its appearance was the notorious Fanny of Cock-lane; and this arch ſpirit was effectually laid, as it is called, in a court of juſtice; where the gentlemen of the law carefully collected her aſhes, and, like alchemiſts, turned them into gold; ſo that there is no fear of any ſpirits riſing from her urn.

We are now, my intelligent fair, fully convinced of the ridiculous fallacy of ſuch bugbears; and at this time there is ſcarcely a female but can enjoy, without one dreadful apprehenſion, a cool and ſilent walk by moonlight: a pleaſure their mothers could hardly be perſuaded to partake of; for, not longer than half a century ago, if a dauntleſs virgin had thus preſumptuouſly ventured, the affrighted parents would have been apprehenſive for their daughter, leſt ſhe ſhould, ſome time or another, be puniſhed for ſuch impious audacity.

Thus we ſee prodigies and wonders daily vaniſhing, in proportion as literary knowledge, and the general improvement of the underſtanding, are cultivated.

To ſome future ſeaſon, perhaps, we muſt poſtpone the elucidation of marks, the ſuppoſed conſequences of frights and longings: yet, if this matter ſhould be a ſubject of diſpute with the ladies for the preſent, I doubt not that a little time and candid obſervation will commit the very idea of ſuch romantic opinions, together with that of frights, and every other ſuperſtitious error, to eternal oblivion.

A fright is generally believed to have the ſame unlucky effect upon pregnant women, as a diſappointment of their wiſhes will produce. Hence they are perpetually racked between hope and fear, to the torment of themſelves, and every body about them; and are ſometimes ſo extravagant with regard to a wiſh or longings, as not to be ſatisfied but at an immenſe expenſe: for we have heard that theſe ſtrange cravings are not altogether confined to the palate; they ſometimes extend themſelves to equipage, jewels, dreſs, baubles, &c. As a proof that ſuch chimerical notions even at this time prevail, the reader is deſired to attend to the following relation.

Since the firſt edition of this work went to the preſs, the author happened to dine, in company with a pregnant lady totally free from prejudice, at the houſe of an intimate female friend, who has a heart truly good and ſympathetic. Her teeming viſitor took notice of a toy; it was a pigeon-houſe made of Staffordſhire ware, and in a baby-houſe would appear a proper ornament: yet the forebodings of this good matron, leſt her friend ſhould have entertained a longing for it, operated ſo ſtrongly, that the kindly ordered it to be put into her viſitor's carriage. The pregnant lady ſtrongly objected to it indeed, but to no purpoſe; inſomuch that ſhe was obliged to take the pigeon-houſe home.

But not to dwell upon ſuch like particulars, which, nevertheleſs, have been frequently introduced in ſupport of whimſical deſires, and which are continually magnified in the relation, we ſhall confine our remarks to the general manner in which this magic operates.

As I have univerſally been thought an infidel in matters of this kind, the ladies have treated me accordingly; nay, frequently, when I have begged quarter, it has been cruelly denied; which cautions me at this time to be modeſtly humble and diffident. I ſhall aſſert nothing; but by fair and impartial enquiry endeavour to ſearch out the truth.

In conſequence of my ſuppoſed want of faith in theſe affairs, there is ſcarcely a female I am acquainted with, who does not treaſure up every ſurpriſing ſtory of this kind that ſhe hears, to tell it me with all the advantages that a perſuaſive tongue can give, in order to bring about my converſion.

I verily believe, that, by the aſſiſtance of theſe my good friends, I could furniſh a large folio volume of ſuch hiſtories. It is a ſpacious field for the fancy to rove in. A variety of preternatural marks in living perſons may be produced every day: nor can the exiſtence of theſe extraordinary appearances be denied; for that is inconteſtible, as every one can vouch. The true cauſe of ſuch wonders, therefore, is the ſubject of our purſuit.

In the firſt place, I ſhall make bold to declare, that I never met with one of theſe blemiſhes which altogether ſtruck my fancy with reſpect even to the imaginary likeneſs; or which, as to the ſuppoſed cauſe, engaged my rational confidence.

I have been ſhowed a mark that was compared to the rhind of bacon, and told a ſtrange ſtory of the mother's longing for a gammon. I fancied it to be like the tinge of a mulatto, and congratulated the parents that the child was not altogether ſwarthy.

A lady of my acquaintance has oftentimes declared that ſhe is marked with a perfect pig; but I never could obtain the ſight of this rarity, it not being conveniently ſituated for public inſpection. A little while ago, I was in company with her mother, an elderly woman, and quite a ſtout champion, as I found, for marks and blemiſhes, in conſequence of frights and longings. Upon a particular enquiry, it appeared that ſhe was unacquainted with the accident, until ſome conſiderable time after the birth; and then, from the appearance of the mark, ſhe very well remembered the occaſion of it—which was this. When ſhe was very near her time, her huſband and ſelf were invited to the houſe of a relation, living at ſome diſtance, who, ſhe knew, had ſome very fine ſucking pigs. They both thought the ride would be too much for her; but ſhe recollects her having ſaid, that ſhe would go at all events, if ſhe was ſure they would dreſs one of the pigs for dinner. However, the huſband went alone, and returned in the evening with a quarter of a pig that had been dreſſed on purpoſe for their dinner, her relation knowing ſhe was fond of it. But alas! as her evil genius would have it, when ſhe ſat down to ſupper, ſhe could eat but very little; and at that time unluckily rubbed the part with her hand, where her daughter is marked, which, ſhe is very certain, occaſioned the form of a pig. I aſked her how the child could be marked, ſince ſhe had her deſire? No matter for that, anſwered ſhe: though I had the pig, the child to be ſure muſt be marked; becauſe I longed for it nice and hot, with good plum ſauce and gravy, but was obliged to eat it cold. We all laughed heartily at the concluſion, though, as the reader may judge, from different motives; but the old lady thought ſhe had obtained a complete victory.

I have given this little hiſtory, to ſhow the abſurd manner in which theſe things are uſually accounted for. It will be alſo proper in this place to remark the notorious diſſimilarity between ſuch blemiſhes and their ſuppoſed originals. We are to take notice, likewiſe, of the eaſe with which the fancy is impoſed upon, or impoſes on itſelf in ſuch caſes, even to infatuation; magnifying the moſt trifling conjectures into the ſtrongeſt confirmations. How often do women rack their minds, to find out the origin of theſe marks! which evidently proceeds from their averſion to be thought capable of producing an offspring with any imperfections; and their ſervants and nurſes, conſidering it actually as their buſineſs, are always ready to help them out upon theſe occaſions.

Fruit, wine, boiled lobſters, freſh ſalmon, and ſuch like things of a red colour, are the moſt common marks; and there is ſcarcely a family in the kingdom, but ſome one or more of them can produce inſtances of this ſort.

Theſe ſtrange effects, we are told, not only happen to the human race, but alſo, how wonderful to relate!—to brutes. There is a worthy family, whoſe veracity is not to be doubted, that are firmly perſuaded of the following fact; of which they were all ſpectators. I ſhall deliver the account, as nearly as poſſible, in the lady's words, who favoured me with the relation.

Her father's favourite cat happened to produce a kitten, which, to the ſurpriſe of all the family, was marked upon the back with a rat. As the kitten grew, the rat increaſed likewiſe; till, at the end of ſome months, it dropped off the kitten, quite perfect in its form;—and the lady had it in her own hand. I was queſtioned, very particularly, whether I could any longer doubt the conſequences of longing and frights, ſince it even extended to brutes—for, continued ſhe, what could be the cauſe of this, but the creature being diſappointed of ſome rat ſhe was purſuing?

Thus cloſely preſſed, I begged her yet to pardon my want of belief. As to the cauſe, I was ſilent about it; that there was a ſubſtance upon the kitten, which fell off, as related, I had no doubt.—What then could I doubt?— That their own imaginations deceived them.— How was that poſſible?—Much more ſo than they were aware of.—Where is the rat, madam?—Thrown away long ago.—That is unlucky; for, had I ſeen it, probably it might have ſtruck me as reſembling an owl, or ſome other thing altogether as extravagant. It was downright obſtinacy in me; for I would not believe any thing. I further ſaid, had it been a rat, I thought ſhe would have wanted courage to touch it—even ſuppoſing it to be dead; and had it been alive, it would certainly have run away, and prevented her. This pleaſantry abated ſomewhat of the earneſtneſs of our argument; and a laugh made us very good friends—but I was an incredulous man.

I have heard of a woman ſurpriſed in the ſtreet, when ſhe was very near her time, by a perſon with a withered arm: upon her return home, the fright threw her into labour, and ſhe was delivered of a child with a withered arm. How can we poſſibly believe ſuch an immediate effect as this to be produced?— Is it to be credited, that the mother's terror ſhould inſtantly blaſt the arm of the child, thus rendering it ſimilar to the object of horror?

And if this be rejected, how can we allow the total loſs of a limb from a 〈◊〉 cauſe? —Could it be annihilated? This no one will aſſert. If not, ſuppoſing the effect to take place, and the arm of the keg ſhould be ſeparated from the body, what becomes of it? Such divided part is never to be found upon theſe occaſions. On the contrary, where there is an addition to the form, proceeding alſo, as we are told, from fright; ſuch, for inſtance, as a toe or finger extraordinary, an arm or a leg; in the name of wonder, from what ſource can thoſe exuberances be ſo immediately produced? Is it not aſtoniſhing, that ſuch credulous infatuations ſhould thus beguile our reaſon?

Not to trouble my fair readers with any more of theſe relations, which, by prejudiced perſons, are accounted undeniable, I ſhall juſt mention a few facts for the conſideration of the candid.

A lady of my particular acquaintance, during the time of her pregnancy, was unfortunately overturned in a coach; by which accident, as ſhe endeavoured to get out, the firſt joint of her ſecond finger was entirely broken off. This was an alarming circumſtance to all her friends, and the dreadful apprehenſions of the child's being born a cripple diſturbed every one; but, to the great aſtoniſhment of her acquaintance, ſhe was delivered of a fine and perfect boy.

An eminent practitioner relates a ſtory to this effect, which is equally to be credited, as happening under his own obſervation.

A lady of quality being in convulſions, the family ſent for the doctor in great haſte. He found her upon the bed, extremely ill indeed. When her ladyſhip came a little to herſelf, ſhe cried out, The black cat! the black cat! —her well-known particular averſion to this domeſtic animal ſeemed to point out the cauſe of the diſaſter, of which till now they were entirely ignorant; and the ſervants diligently ſearched for the object; when in a tub, placed to receive the rain-water near her ladyſhip's dreſſing-room window, poor puſs was diſcovered.

This ſight ſo terribly affected the lady, that her fears were ever uppermoſt, and ſhe was miſerable until the time of her delivery. Neither could her friends pacify her, nor the arguments of ſo able a man bring her to reaſon. Notwithſtanding all they could ſay, ſhe was fully perſuaded her child's face would be like this black cat's. At length Lucina ſmiled propitious on its birth; and her ladyſhip's apprehenſions vaniſhed, upon her being brought to bed of a lovely boy, without either mark or blemiſh.

Juſt about the ſame time, it happened that the ſame gentleman delivered another perſon of a boy alſo. The child had a ſmall darkiſh ſpot upon the forehead. He was curious enough to interrogate the mother about it, and ſhe moſt ingenuouſly declared, that ſhe was neither ſenſible of any fright or longing during; the whole time of her breeding.

Had this blemiſh happened to the child of the noble parent, the doctor truly obſerves, the black cat would undoubtedly have occaſioned a remarkable anecdote in the hiſtory of her ladyſhip's houſe;—for by all her family and friends it would have been looked upon as an inconteſtible proof of theſe prodigies; and, give me leave to add, with much more ſeeming plauſibility, too, than the generality of theſe ſtories can boaſt; becauſe the lady had declared her apprehenſions at the time of the ſuppoſed injury.

I ſhall here add another inſtance of an apprehenſion altogether as fruitleſs, as that of the noble lady. It was made known to me, in conſequence of reading the above to a particular friend, who immediately replied, that he was under great anxiety for his wife, upon account of her being terrified at the ſight of a perſon who had a very unhappy blemiſh on her face. The wife of this gentleman, by chance going to St. Paul's church, was placed in a ſtall exactly oppoſite to the unfortunate object, which affected her ſo much, that her devotion was entirely loſt; and ſhe talked of this poor woman continually after ſhe left the church.

In a few weeks this lady went again to St. Paul's, and was unluckily placed oppoſite the ſame perſon; which ſo diſtreſſed her, that ſhe dared not to venture there any more. Surely this is as ſtriking an inſtance as we can ſuppoſe. I told my friend I was glad he acquainted me of it before his wife was brought to bed, and that I ſhould pay great attention to the conſequence; but at the ſame time deſired he would endeavour to make both himſelf and wife very eaſy, aſſuring him, on the obſervation of myſelf and others, how little room there was to be under any diſmal apprehenſion on this account. To finiſh the ſtory, his wife was ſoon after delivered of a fine and perfect child. Since which, this lady has declared her apprehenſions ſo terrified her, that ſhe dared not to look at the child, till ſhe collected from the converſation of her attendants, that the boy's face was free from blemiſh. What a cruel ſuſpenſe and painful ſufferance muſt this have been to a mother!

Not long ago I was in the chamber of a lady newly delivered: her mother being preſent, took me to the window, and in great diſtreſs acquainted me the child had a large mark upon the right ſide of its face; that ſhe was terrified at the thoughts of breaking it to her daughter, and begged me to acquaint her of it. Accordingly, after congratulating the good lady in the ſtraw, upon her own health and a fine baby, in the courſe of converſation, I jocoſely told her that we were at a loſs to account for a pretty ſpot upon the child's face, and muſt deſire her to inform us of the occaſion of it. After a very minute recollection, ſhe frankly confeſſed ſhe did not remember any one thing that ſhe longed for during her pregnancy, neither could ſhe any how account for the accident.

A variety of other circumſtances might be enumerated, to diſcredit, though many ſtories are related to confirm, this wonderful affair. I ſhall not, however, introduce further particulars, though divers have happened within my notice; but conclude this letter with remarking, that in every inſtance before related, where the misfortune of a blemiſh was apprehended, it did not happen; and in the other caſes, where marks appeared, they were entirely unexpected, and the cauſe of them totally unknown to the mothers; which, I may venture to ſay, has always been the caſe. If, therefore, women would wiſh to be credited in theſe ſtories of frights and longings, let them declare, before they are delivered, like the two ladies mentioned in this letter, that they have marked the child, and make known the cauſe of it. Nothing leſs can prove this fact; and, till then, even the poſſibility of it may very reaſonably be doubted; for ſurely we may conclude that ſo remarkable an effect of ſympathy can never take place, without the immediate and moſt certain knowledge of the mother.

WE are now, my delicate fair ones, entering upon a ſubject which requires ſome circumſpection, to divide the province of the phyſician from the advice of a friend.

There are undoubtedly conſtitutional errors, which oftentimes prevent women from becoming joyful mothers; and they may be hindered alſo by accidental circumſtances. Both theſe conſiderations, however, belong to the phyſician. In a word, therefore, theſe directions do not extend to ſuch remote cauſes; my counſels at preſent being deſigned to aſſiſt you in your own ſphere.

The deſire of children is evidently predominant in almoſt every female diſpoſition: it muſt be certainly owing to the wiſe ordination of Providence, that their education is ſo admirably calculated to encourage this fondneſs. How engaging are the childiſh amuſements of a daughter!—Let us picture an innocent little girl fondly careſſing a waxen image, dreſſing and undreſſing it with all the pomp and importance of a tender mother. What a delightful employment!—how amiable does the child herſelf appear!—and ſo endearing is this female province, that it is juſtly remarked to grow up with the ſex into life.

I have, with inexpreſſible pleaſure, ſeen many young ladies, women grown, happily amuſing themſelves at their younger ſiſter's baby-houſe, and often diſcovered a crimſon bluſh, that genuine mark of female modeſty, ariſing from their being ſomewhat confuſed in ſuffering themſelves to be thus unexpectedly ſurpriſed.

There are, indeed, ſome perſons who have declared an averſion to children. I have painfully ſuffered from the enumeration of the difficulties and inconveniences which they deſcribe parents to labour under, who have the care of a little family.—Selfiſh and unſocial conſiderations!

God has univerſally manifeſted, that the whole human race are dependent upon one another; and thoſe perſons, who think and act thus narrowly, can neither be accounted good characters in themſelves, nor worthy members with reſpect to ſociety. But, alas! they are ſtrangers to the feelings of parental fondneſs.

Certain I am, ye amiable wives, that, if it be your good fortune to become happy mothers, your children, thoſe dear pledges of love, if prudently educated, prove not only an engaging comfort to yourſelves, but a great and laſting ſecurity for the affections of your huſbands. Truſt me, there is a time when the charms of beauty muſt ceaſe, and the paſſions of youth bend, to the majeſty of wiſdom:— 'tis then good-nature and good-ſenſe, with that eſſential ingredient, a cheerful diſpoſition, will in a great meaſure ſecure your conqueſt; and a charming offspring will aſſuredly contribute to unite parents in the laſting bonds of friendſhip.

How deſirable, therefore, are children! Even poverty itſelf does not prevent the ſanguine wiſh for them. Let us then endeavour to promote their ſafe and happy increaſe.

The difference of conſtitution in women is an important affair: there are ſome who upon every trifling occaſion are ſubject to miſcarriages—others, again, who, in ſpite of the moſt direct and powerful means, are often compelled to bear the token of unwarrantable amours; and there are inſtances even of married women, who, not ſuppoſing themſelves to be breeding, have been treated in the moſt likely manner to bring about an abortion—but all in vain. A remarkable ſtory of this kind occurs to my memory, which I relate from my own knowledge.

An honeſt labouring man and his wife lived together many years without having children; and they were both beyond the meridian of life, when the poor woman was ſuppoſed to be afflicted with a dropſy. From time to time ſhe adviſed with ſeveral eminent phyſicians, who, from her appearance and the account ſhe gave, treated her as dropſical; adminiſtering the moſt powerful remedies againſt that diſorder.

At length ſhe grew ſo very big, that all hopes of a cure were given over, and the operation of tapping was recommended. The huſband's circumſtances being narrow, and the expenſe of this illneſs putting it out of his power to employ a ſurgeon, the poor woman was adviſed to go into the hoſpital: this, however, ſhe refuſed.

A week or two after this, the huſband called, with a moſt joyful countenance, to inform me his wife was brought to bed, and that both the mother and child were likely to do well. I was at that time very young; but my reflexions upon the oddity of the event determined me to be always wary in the examination of dropſical female patients.

Thus we ſee in this woman, and in a variety of other caſes, where impious efforts have been uſed to promote a miſcarriage, that nature, in ſpite of great violence, ſometimes will not be interrupted.

Let us then aim at aſſiſting her in this great work, where the conſtitution appears not able to go through with it; and point out the moſt rational means to prevent abortion.

Our firſt letter, over and above the enquiry concerning marks, longings, and frights, greatly tends to this material end. Women of a delicate form, and too great ſenſibility, are the moſt liable to miſcarry: ſuch alſo are the moſt likely to imbibe, and to be affected by, the prejudices we there wiſhed to caution them againſt. The power of fear is undoubtedly ſovereign over moſt perſons; and this, as it frequently occaſions miſcarriages, is truly to be dreaded. If, therefore, the prejudices were diſcountenanced, the unhappy fear itſelf would aſſuredly ceaſe.

And further, there is nothing tends more to render life happy, either to men or women, than to conquer, as much as poſſible, the paſſion of fear. This is the monſter, which in ſome degree ſubdues us all, and too frequently makes mankind miſerable. There is no calamity but would eaſily become ſupportable, could we diveſt ourſelves of fear; and daily experience proves women to be moſt ſubject to its tortures. How many trifling inſects, that a man continually ſpurns from him, ruffle the breaſt of females, and throw them into the greateſt agonies!

The evil, therefore, is ſeated in the imagination; for it is the dreadful apprehenſion of their own mind that torments them; which, by a firm and ſteady reſolution, may generally be overcome. Fortitude is an ineſtimable jewel.

However difficult the taſk appears, the earlieſt and ſtrongeſt prejudices may commonly be conquered. I am ſenſible, that ſometimes it will require great pains, and never can be done but by the ſtrength of reaſon. Would you, my too ſuſceptible fair, follow my advice on this ſubject, a thouſand accidents might be avoided that hourly happen to you upon this, and many other occaſions.

Reaſon was beſtowed upon us, both for the preſervation of our health, and the promotion of our happineſs. The abuſe of it as neceſſarily deſtroys the one as the other.

How do we continually reflect upon ourſelves for inconveniencies, mental as well as corporeal, that ariſe from inconſiderateneſs and folly? Believe me, ladies, miſcarriages are frequently brought about by imprudence. When a wife has the pleaſing proſpect of becoming a mother, it is no longer a time to be revelling in midnight aſſemblies. Such a conduct not only deprives her of natural reſt, but alſo endangers her health, and thereby oftentimes promotes this dreaded evil.

In this and every other point, I beg leave to caution you againſt falling into wide extremes. Some ladies I have ſeen madly running up and down, and jumbling all the town over in the moſt jolting hackney-coach that could be procured; and, although at the ſame time they complain of being ſhaken to pieces, yet this they ſay is to prevent the accident.— Others never ſtep out of doors, nay, nor ſo much as go up and down a pair of ſtairs, for ſeveral months: this alſo is to avoid the danger.

Again let me warn you of both extremes. Be this your guide—whatever exerciſe you are capable of taking without fatigue, indulge—but no more. Never, in this point, regard the example of others. Becauſe your friend can do this and that, it is no reaſon you ſhould; and if the attempt gives pain, it ſhould certainly be avoided.

I need not caution the preſent age againſt the pernicious cuſtom of lacing too tightly; for a laſs of fifteen, in the dreſs of our times, would in the laſt age have been ſuppoſed to be juſt at down-lying.

I do not mean to condemn, but to praiſe the ladies for giving themſelves room in the waiſt: nevertheleſs extremes, you know, are not adviſed. There is a certain medium in every part of life, which is the je-ne-ſais-quoi that conſtitutes the agreeable.

It is as uncommon now to ſee a young girl crooked, as it formerly was to ſee one perfectly ſtraight. I believe no one denies that their ſhapes were greatly injured by the ſtiffneſs of their ſtays, and by being laced ſo exceedingly cloſe. This pernicious cuſtom was frequently the cauſe of a bad ſtate of health, and threw many young women into conſumptions. We now rarely ſee ladies fainting in public places: but when they did not allow themſelves room to breathe, it happened every day.It is to be hoped the ladies will not again lace themſelves up, to diſplay fine ſhapes; the Author, however, wiſhes to warn them againſt ſo pernicious a faſhion. This prudent alteration, therefore, ſo ſerviceable to maidens, is ſtill more neceſſary for married women.

There is another caution at this time to be obſerved. I have frequently beheld, with pain, divers ladies too apt to be lifting and playing with heavy children: there are certain ſympathetic emotions, altogether natural and laudable, which prompt them to it; and far be it from my thoughts to deprive them of ſo tender and generous a gratification: nevertheleſs, to ſee a delicate little form, very near her time, ſtop a bouncing boy, and catch him in her arms, is really an alarming ſight: many miſcarriages happen from ſuch inconſiderateneſs; and, if our conjectures are not wrong, many blemiſhes alſo by theſe means are probably occaſioned.

But there is a practice indiſcriminately uſed even to this day, worſe than all the reſt; and that is bleeding. Whether a woman be robuſt or weakly, if ſhe is pregnant, ſhe muſt be bled. Has ſhe any pains? No matter.—Is ſhe in health? Yes.—But ſhe muſt loſe blood.— Why? Becauſe ſhe is with child. Her mother always did it, and her grandmother, aye, and her great great grandmother too, time out of mind; and therefore can the propriety of it be doubted?—Theſe are the general arguments uſed by women in favour of bleeding, when they are in perfect health: but if any ſlight indiſpoſition happens, be it ever ſo foreign to their particular ſituations, and which perhaps at another time would paſs unnoticed, dreadful conſequences are apprehended, if they are not bled: nay, indeed, thoſe little temporary inconveniencies which generally and unavoidably attend advanced pregnancy, in their miſtaken opinions, call aloud for bleeding.

In our two former letters, we took notice of the difficulty that attends rooting out fixed and prevailing prejudices; and I am apprehenſive that this is as deeply ſeated in the minds of women, as thoſe of which we there treated. However, let us aſk the aſſiſtance of reaſon alſo in this particular, and ſearch a little into the merits of the cuſtom.

Is not the infant ſupported by the mother?

When there are two to be ſupported, is not more nouriſhment required than for one of them only?

Is this then a time, without a real neceſſity, to ſport with the blood of a weakly and delicate woman? No, ſurely.

Let me therefore beg of you, my ingenuous friends, to conſider this matter in a rational light. I have given a plain and eaſy clue to purſue the enquiry; and the ſubject will not permit me to enter more fully into it with my fair readers, without aſſuming the character of the phyſician, and without advancing thoſe things, which may, in this collection of letters, be conſidered as an affront to delicacy.

To your own thoughts then I commit it; and will conclude this letter with ſaying, that, though I do not deny but there are caſes which require bleeding, yet I caution you againſt doing it at random, and, indeed, without very good advice: at the ſame time, I firmly believe ſuch inſtances rarely happen to thoſe who are not of a robuſt conſtitution, and am fully perſuaded that many women are daily injured by this wrong practice.

I HAVE endeavoured to ſet forth the ridiculouſneſs of women terrifying themſelves, and every body about them, during their pregnancy, with evils that moſt probably are altogether imaginary. I would wiſh my female readers to conſider this ſubject in a more extenſive view, and to aim at greater fortitude than the ſex can generally boaſt, in the common occurrences of life; when the tenderneſs of men is not ſo much engaged, and when the ladies cannot reaſonably expect ſuch kind allowances as are made at this particular time. Think me not ſevere; a faithful monitor muſt ſpeak with freedom; the man who is blind to this foible, muſt be inſenſible to your charms, and unworthy of your confidence. Your happineſs is at ſtake, much more ſo than a ſuperficial obſerver may imagine. Female vivacity ſoftens the rugged paths of life; and, believe me, ſelf-love operates powerfully even upon the moſt generous minds. The woman who indulges gloomy ideas—who is continually brooding over melancholy—who, in her hours of domeſtic retirement, is perpetually rendering herſelf miſerable, and her moſt intimate acquaintance, and deareſt relatives, unhappy—ſuch a miſtaken SHE muſt only expect the cold eye of pity. However powerful her perſonal attractions, ſhe will ultimately baniſh her huſband and her friends. It will be found her greateſt misfortune, and at a time too when it is irretrievable, to have once had the merit to gain, perhaps, a valuable heart, when ſhe has not diſcretion enough to keep it.—The importance of the ſubject will, I hope, apologize for this digreſſion.

We have alſo earneſtly laboured to conquer the prejudices concerning marks, in conſequence of frights and longings; and have expoſed the fabulous hiſtories of thoſe wonders. We have likewiſe ſhown how the underſtanding may be deceived by the forms of fancy; and have no leſs earneſtly endeavoured to explode the miſtaken cuſtom of bleeding indiſcriminately, during pregnancy—pointing out, upon rational principles, the abſurdity of all. A taſk equally arduous in every part; a thouſand prejudices being imbibed againſt the whole.

Another ſubject at this time preſents itſelf to view—I mean that of women ſuckling their own children; againſt which the preſent obſtinately received opinions are ſtill more unaccountable than the former; as nothing but a ſtrange perverſion of human nature could firſt deprive children of their mother's milk. Give me leave therefore to obſerve, that milk is the natural ſupport which the great Author of our being has provided for our infant ſtate; and I am heartily ſorry the preſent manner of bringing up children puts me, in ſome meaſure, under the neceſſity of proving milk to be the beſt food that can be given them.

Milk is a nouriſhment produced from the various kinds of food taken in by the mother. Her ſtomach breaks and digeſts the aliment, which, after various operations of nature, becomes ſo far animalized as to be a kind of white blood; from whence animal bodies at all times receive their conſtant ſupport and recruit. This therefore being admitted—until an infant's powers are ſufficiently ſtrengthened to perform ſo great a buſineſs as that of digeſtion, the mother, by the all-wiſe appointment of Providence, from her own breaſt ſupplies it with the means of life. Hence no other nouriſhment appears ſo proper for a new-born child.

For the farther information and ſatisfaction of my female readers, and to convince them that milk is the moſt proper nouriſhment for tender infants, I think it will not be improper to give a conciſe account of the manner in which grown perſons receive their conſtant recruit and ſupport from their daily food.

Whether it be animal or vegetable diet, or a mixture of both, taken into the ſtomach, the quality of the food is ſo far altered by the digeſtive faculties that a milky nutriment is produced from it 〈…〉 paſſes through the bowels, the milk is taken up by a great number of fine veſſels, which, from their deſtined office, are called the milky veſſels; and through them it is conveyed into the blood for our ſupport: and, as before obſerved, nature has ſo admirably contrived the animal fabric, that mothers are likewiſe enabled to ſupport their young from this conſtant ſupply, which at the ſame time alſo affords to themſelves their own proper nouriſhment.

This is the grand ſcheme of nutriment: for, when theſe particles of our food, which afford us ſuſtenance, are thus taken up by the milky veſſels, the groſſer parts are, by the ſame wonderful conſtruction of the bowels, rejected and evacuated, in a manner well known to every one.

Whoever, therefore, gives this argument a rational conſideration, will, I truſt, be led to acknowledge milk to be not only the natural, but the beſt and moſt ſtrengthening nouriſhment that infants can poſſibly receive; becauſe their digeſtive faculties are, at this time, incapable of producing a good and proper milky nutriment from any kind of food which can be given to them.

The Author of Nature has univerſally committed the ſupport of infants, and the early part of children's education, to women; if it were not thus ordained, he would undoubtedly have furniſhed men alſo with milk for the nouriſhment of their young; and experience convinces us, that women are much better qualified both by nature and cuſtom for this important concern. This ſyſtem of nurſing, therefore, is peculiarly addreſſed to the fair ſex, who are moſt intereſted in it, and who will moſt ſenſibly feel the happy or miſerable effects of the manner in which they diſcharge this firſt great truſt which is repoſed in them. — Here, indeed, a mother will aſſuredly reap the happy fruits of fortitude, and thoſe likewiſe of a lively, cheerful and obliging diſpoſition. This ſubject will be treated at large in the twelfth letter; nevertheleſs, give me leave to obſerve, in this place, that ſuch as the mother is, generally ſpeaking, ſuch will be the firſt, and moſt probably the moſt durable impreſſions received by the child. It therefore naturally follows, that infants, whoſe minds are early accuſtomed to agreeable objects, and whoſe expanding ideas are gratified with pleaſing ſenſations, unabated by flaviſh fears—ſuch, and ſuch only, as they 〈◊〉 into life, will poſſeſs that generous gratitude, which prompts them to conſider it as a firſt great duty to contribute to the happineſs of their parents.

I am exceedingly offended, whenever I obſerve a child, grown to man or woman's eſtate, who ſhows, upon any occaſion, a want of reſpect or duty to its parents; and more particularly ſo, if ſuch ſlight or contempt be exerciſed towards a good mother. Unnatural monſter! to be wanting in reſpect to her who bore him in her womb—who cheriſhed and ſupported him with her milk—and for many years after his birth gave up her own pleaſures and recreations entirely for his ſake—and who had no cares but for his welfare. I would have a mark ſet upon the forehead of ſuch a barbarous ſavage; and he ſhould be hunted from the ſociety of men.

Thoſe mothers, who by a fooliſh indulgence ſpoil their children's tempers and diſpoſitions, are undoubtedly culpable; but the example of a violent, paſſionate, yet negligent and inſenſible father, is equally or more to be dreaded. A mother has this plea, that ſhe endeavours at leaſt at the time to make her child happy; and it may be ſaid, in excuſe for her conduct, that ſhe is to be pitied in not knowing better: but there is no excuſe, either to God or man, that can be urged to mitigate the vice and folly of ſuch a father: the iniquity reſteth with himſelf alone; for the benevolent Author of our being is not to be arraigned upon this or any other occaſion.

How provident is nature in all her works! How wonderfully indulgent to man, and other helpleſs animals, in their firſt ſtate of exiſtence, by thus enabling the mother to feed her young with nouriſhment drawn from her own body, until ſuch time as the offspring has obtained ſtrength ſufficient to provide for itſelf! This gracious bounty is abuſed only by man, the moſt intelligent of earthly beings; whoſe miſuſe of reaſon leads him aſtray, whilſt humble inſtinct directs all other parts of the creation aright.

If we look around us, we ſhall find every animal that gives ſuck, carefully foſtering her young: and other enjoyments are no more thought of, until they are capable of providing for themſelves. An example by which mankind might profit much: but the ſtrong impulſe of paſſion, in this and many other inſtances, ſubdues our reaſon. Did we conſider the benefit of our children more, and the indulgence of our ſelfiſh inclinations leſs, the race of man would be more healthy, ſtrong, and vigorous, than we can at preſent boaſt. But, alas! ſuch is the depravity of human nature, that it would be in vain to enlarge upon this topic of complaint; it is therefore our preſent buſineſs to prevent, as much as poſſible, the future growth of theſe evils.

Let us, my friends, as you are all intereſted in the enquiry, compare the ſucceſs of mankind with that of the other animals in rearing their young. A little obſervation will convince us, that greater numbers of the human race are loſt in their infancy, than of any other ſpecies; for near one half the deaths, within our bills of mortality, happen to children under five years of age. And further, compare the opulent with the ruſtic, the ſucceſs is ſtill exceedingly different. How many children of the great fall victims to prevailing cuſtoms, the effects of riches! How many of the poor are ſaved by wanting theſe luxuries!

Again, compare the ſucceſs of ſuch as ſuckle their own offspring, with that of thoſe who commit them to the care of nurſes, or bring them up by hand; and we ſhall there likewiſe find an amazing difference: but more of this hereafter.

From theſe conſiderations, it is evident, that Nature is always preferable to art; whence the brute creation ſucceed better than the human, in preſerving their own ſpecies. And the peaſant, whom neceſſity compels to follow nature, is, in this reſpect, happier than his lord. Thoſe mothers alſo, who, in ſpite of cuſtom, pride, or indolence, will take their little babies to their breaſt, muſt have more comfort and ſucceſs, than thoſe who cruelly conſign them to the care of foſter nurſes; thereby denying them that food, which is not only the moſt proper, but is ordained likewiſe for their infant ſtate.

Let me then intreat thoſe who are deſirous of rearing their children, not to rob them of their natural breaſt. Would they wiſh them to be healthy and beautiful, let ſuch mothers give ſuck: for even wet nurſes, we ſhall find, are very little to be depended upon.

NOW then, my nearly intereſted friends, let us obſerve thoſe parts of the creation where inſtinct only can direct, and for once learn a leſſon from the tender brute. Behold thoſe animals which are familiar to us, how ſucceſsful they are in bringing up their young: animals that give milk to three, four, five, ſix, and ſometimes more of their offspring at a birth. How well and happy are their dams! What unremitting care do they take of their nurſlings! They never deſert them, until time has given to their bodies ſtrength ſufficient to provide for themſelves. Provident nature!— and ſhall mankind alone diſtruſt thy goodneſs? Let us learn, and be wiſe. Never more ſuffer it to paſs for an argument, that a woman, who is capable of bearing a child, has not ſtrength to ſuckle it, when the little creatures that ſurround us can rear a whole family at once.

O that I could convince you of the breaſt alone being a ſufficient ſupport for the moſt robuſt of children! Conſider nature well in all her works! Let ignorance and prejudice no longer prevail! Believe this ſolemn truth, almoſt every woman is capable of ſupporting her babe; and great will prove the advantages, both to herſelf and her infant. When it is confined altogether to the breaſt, it gains ſtrength every day, and defies diſeaſe. The mother, under theſe circumſtances, would not again conceive ſo quickly; and miſcarriages would thereby be, in a great meaſure, prevented; unleſs hurried on by frequent bleedings, and other miſtaken practices.

If, for the ſake of your families, you value your own lives, attend to this indiſputable fact. You yourſelves know how many women are ruined in their health by not ſuckling their children; and what numbers are continually ſacrificed by unſkilful methods of treatment, at the time of their delivery. You may—you ſhould ſupport your young; the taſk is eaſy and delightful, and the thriving child rewards your pains. It is not laborious. I would not wiſh to ſee you ſlaves: the tender delicacy of your frame forbids the very thought. The method is plain and eaſy—only follow nature.

Sleep is eſſentially neceſſary to life; and that the ſtomach ſhould ſometimes be at reſt, is as eſſentially neceſſary to health; both theſe things the mother and child equally require. Thus the ſlaviſh part of the buſineſs is ſet aſide; for it is an abſurd and erroneous cuſtom, after ſtuffing it continually in the day, to keep a child at the breaſt all night. This counteracts the operations of nature, not only by depriving it of its reſt, but alſo, from a conſtant fullneſs, the powers of the infant-body are prevented from exerting themſelves in a proper manner upon the aliment received. Hence the ſtomach and bowels are enfeebled, and thereby rendered incapable of producing ſuch wholeſome nouriſhment as a child would otherwiſe obtain from its food; to which grand purpoſe, ſound ſleep and abſtinence are equally conductive.

On the other hand, the mother, being continually diſturbed during the night, is alſo prevented from aſſimilating that good and perfect milk, which would otherwiſe be produced from the food of the day. Hence ſhe becomes ill, grows tired of her taſk, and the crude milk proves noxious to the weakened bowels of the infant. Thus diſappointment and death frequently ſucceed.

I know it will be urged by ſome, that it is impoſſible to keep children quiet and at reſt, during the night, and that they cry for food. Let them be managed from the birth agreeably to the directions here given, and then I believe few perſons will complain of their being troubleſome. One reaſon why children do not ſleep well by night is, that they are indulged too much in the cradle by day, when they ſhould have exerciſe. Another ſtill greater reaſon, I am inclined to think, proceeds from pain, occaſioned by improper food, in the firſt paſſages; for I will venture to affirm, that almoſt every child's bowels, from the preſent wrong management, are in a ſtate of diſeaſe, which too frequently grows up with it into life; and thus in infancy the lurking cauſe of a bad conſtitution is oftentimes eſtabliſhed.

When their little ſtomachs, irritated by too large a quantity, and the bad quality of food, become ſomewhat empty; a pain, probably like what we call the heart-burn, and acidities at the ſtomach, awakens them from their diſturbed ſlumbers; and theſe little creatures can then only diſcover their uneaſineſs by crying. Hence nurſes, partly for their own quiet, and partly through a miſtaken notion that children cry only for nouriſhment, cram them until they are quite gorged. Such infants eagerly devour whatever is given them, becauſe the reception of food takes off that too great ſenſibility of the ſtomach which cauſed the pain. A ſimilar effect to this, grown perſons, troubled with the complaints I have now mentioned, muſt every day experience upon taking nouriſhment; for it always affords a preſent relief.

Four or five times in the twenty-four hours are ſufficient for a child to receive the breaſt; and let the following rules be nearly obſerved. About ſix or ſeven in the morning, after which the child may be allowed an hour or two's ſleep;—again, an hour after the mother has breakfaſted—and a third time, if ſhe pleaſes, before dinner—a fourth time, at five or ſix o'clock in the evening, being two or three hours after dinner—and laſtly, between ten and eleven, juſt before ſhe goes to reſt.

Now, by thoſe mothers who have ſervants to take off the laborious part of the management of children, this ſurely cannot be deemed a fatigue: that the taſk itſelf is a pleaſure, the fondneſs of nurſes towards children at the breaſt fully proves; and that it is an indiſpenſable duty, the feelings of human nature evidently proclaim.

In the early months, ſleep may be indulged during the day; but exerciſe ſhould alſo at proper intervals be given to children. As they grow ſtronger, ſleep ſhould be leſs encouraged, and exerciſe increaſed.

There are ſeveral points of management that I have no fault to find with; and, among others, think it needleſs to dwell upon the neceſſity of keeping children dry and clean: it is ſo evident, that few nurſes are culpable in theſe particulars. But as to rocking children, the cuſtom is altogether abſurd. He was an ingenious man who invented a mouſe-trap, though none but a fool firſt thought of a cradle; it was certainly invented to ſave the attendants trouble, for which, by the bye, they ſuffer more in return. I never permitted a cradle to diſgrace my nurſery. Infants, if well, ſleep without this lullaby-labour; and ſuch forced dozings generally render them peeviſh and watchful in the night; which is the moſt proper time both for them and their nurſes to enjoy their reſt.

At the end of ſix or ſeven months, when the four firſt teeth ought to appear, children ſhould be kept awake, and exerciſed as much as poſſible; by which time, if managed properly, they will generally gain ſtrength enough to ſhoot theſe teeth, and the others will in due courſe be cut with eaſe,

Thus you will avoid an evil that ſweeps away great numbers; of which, however, I ſhall ſpeak more fully in another letter; for It is entirely owing to the weakneſs of their bodies, that children cut their teeth with ſo much difficulty, and that it is attended with fever, convulſions, and death.

This weakneſs of body is but little underſtood; for if a child be bloated with fat, which too generally happens when it is improperly fed, the parents and their friends call it a fine child, and admire how it thrives—when, alas! that very fat is the diſeaſe which renders its conſtitution thus feeble: for if the butcher did not kill lambs and calves when they become immoderately fat, they likewiſe would die as frequently as children. Which death may be juſtly attributed to the prepoſterous method, ſo generally in uſe, of giving them too much crude unſalutary nouriſhment; and not managing them in other reſpects as nature requires, to ſtrengthen the body from the food received.

After what has been advanced concerning the early part of infant-management, give me leave to obſerve, that the arguments enforced upon this important ſubject are ſubmitted to the conſideration of thoſe mothers who are deſirous of preferring a rational ſyſtem to bigoted maxims and opinions, I would wiſh them to be attended to, and I truſt that they will merit their approbation. I do not expect the foregoing rules to be invariably adopted from the birth. I know very well, and it is obvious to thoſe who have been attentive to children, that infants require ſome more, and others leſs attendance, eſpecially during the firſt month or two; and a certain time is neceſſary, even under the moſt prudent management, to accuſtom them to our wiſhed-for habits. There is a wide difference between knowing what is right, and doing it; and oftentimes, although we may be deſirous of ſtrictly following the moſt prudent maxims, difficulties will unexpectedly ariſe in the firſt attempts. Let me therefore deſire you to aim at the above regulations, which by perſeverance will ſoon become practicable; and then, determine for yourſelves, how greatly they will contribute to your own eaſe and comfort, as well as to the advantage of your children.

IN my laſt letter I condemned the preſent erroneous method of ſuckling and feeding children, and recommended a plain and eaſy way of rearing them to ſix or ſeven months old, upon a rational plan, pointed out by nature in many different parts of the creation; and which moſt probably was ſtrictly followed by mankind in the early ages of the world, before luxury, pride, and indolence, crept into ſociety. Ancient hiſtory never could have boaſted of ſo many ſtrong and valiant men, had not mothers, in their infancy, given ſtrength and vigour to their conſtitutions; and the cauſe of the preſent puſillanimous, feeble, weakly, and diſeaſed race of mortals, may in ſome meaſure be aſcribed to the want of this earlieſt maternal care.

Let us talk with the plain and ſimple huſbandman, who has a nurſery of trees under his direction: he will tell us it is not ſufficient for the ſtocks to be good of their kind; for, unleſs they be ſecured from rude winds, and properly cultivated, ſo that they may receive nouriſhment, they will never thrive.

It is literally the ſame in animal life; there are unfortunate mothers who daily and wofully experience the truth of this argument. How many women are bleſt with fine children, not a blemiſh, nor the mark of a diſeaſe, about them at their birth; and yet before many months are paſt, for want of prudent care and proper nouriſhment, do they not waſte away and die? I need not ſay more; the tears of many of my gentle readers, at the unhappy recollection, will ſufficiently teſtify the fact. May ſuch tears prove a warning for their future conduct, and, truſt me, my honoured matrons, your ſorrow will be turned into Joy—a joy of the tendereſt nature, generous and truly laudable!

Let not man, in the vanity of his heart, triumph in a ſuperiority over the fair ſex! for to them alone it belongs to lay the foundation, not of what he is, but what he ſhould be— healthy, ſtrong, and vigorous. You, ladies, form an hero in the cradle; and courage is received from the breaſt. Gratitude in return demands a protection to you from man. With yourſelves, therefore, it remains to render him capable of that protection. Thus nature, my fair-ones, ordained your importance in the creation.

But to return to the huſbandman: he will again tell us, that when his trees have received their infant ſtrength, and their roots begin to ſhoot, it is neceſſary to tranſplant them from the nurſery to a more extenſive ſoil, in order that they may arrive at their natural perfection. So you, my friends, having brought the child through its infant ſtate, by the tender nouriſhment of the breaſt, muſt, at the time of weaning, (which, in my opinion, is beſt poſtponed until it be near a twelvemonth old) tranſplant your little nurſery likewiſe to a more extenſive ſoil that is, you muſt afford it more copious nouriſhment, in order to bring it to maturer life.

Yet, as great ſkill and caution are required on the part of the huſbandman, in this buſineſs of tranſplanting, ſo great judgment and care muſt be ſhown by you, in this your province of weaning children; for cuſtom has ſo far deviated from nature, as to render the greateſt circumſpection neceſſary to point out the happy medium.

A further care, therefore, at this time demands our attention. Man, according to the preſent mode, particularly in England, is greatly ſupported by animal food. A ſudden tranſition, from one extreme to another, is always dangerous; and every material alteration, to avoid inconveniencies, ſhould be brought about ſtep by ſtep. If nature ever intended us to deſtroy the animals around us for prey, ſurely we may conclude this food never could be deſigned for our uſe, until ſuch time as we had teeth to eat it.

Many ill conſequences ariſe from perſons devouring their meals too eagerly; and if the ſtomachs of men are oppreſſed, by not ſufficiently chewing their meat, certainly the weak and tender ſtomachs of children, who have not as yet teeth ſufficient to break it, muſt be ſtill leſs fit to receive it altogether whole.

Animal food, then, at this time of life, is abſolutely forbidden, from reaſon and reflexion; but as it is in ſome meaſure neceſſary to prepare them for their future method of living, broths and jellies may be now given ſparingly, and, as they increaſe in ſtrength and age, more plentifully. Hereby the animal juices are received, which contain the only nouriſhment in fleſh, without any labour to the ſtomach; and let it be remembered, that the juices of full-grown animals are to be preferred to the younger and fattened kind; but more of this in its proper place.

Let children at this time be fed once or twice a day with about a quarter of a pint of broth, and a little bread mixed in it. When you give a ſtiff jelly, a large tea-cup full is ſufficient; but I would recommend as much warm water, or milk, with it, and likewiſe a little bread. The breaſt ſhould not be allowed them now ſo often as when they were wholly confined to that nouriſhment; in ſhort, every meal that you thus introduce, ſhould ſupply one of the ſtated times of ſuckling. Thus are they gradually and inſenſibly weaned from the breaſt, and accuſtomed to animal food, without any pining on their parts, or much trouble to the mother.

Having ſhown the proper manner of putting a child to the breaſt, and likewiſe the moſt prudent method of taking it away; we ſhall, in the next letter, point out the ſafeſt rules for bringing children up by hand: but another obſervation or two will not be improper in this place.

The gravy, which runs out of meat, upon cutting it when brought to table, is exceedingly wholeſome, being nothing more than the pure juices of fleſh. A few ſpoonfuls of this beef or mutton gravy, mixed with an equal quantity of warm water, and a little ſalt, make very good broth. I mention this, becauſe parents generally imagine it to be unwholeſome for children; and oftentimes, when I have recommended it, ſome good old lady has ſtoutly oppoſed me, alleging that it fills a child with humours; whereas, on the contrary, this is the only part of fleſh that produces good nouriſhment.

Here let me proteſt againſt the cuſtom of not ſuffering children to eat ſalt, for fear of the ſcurvy; not making a diſtinction between ſalted meats, and ſalt eaten with meat. In this point alſo, ſtrong prejudices are frequently to be combated with; for many a time have I been told by perſons of reverent years, that children were not ſuffered to eat ſalt in former days; adding, perhaps with, a ſignificant ſhrug, that the preſent age think themſelves much wiſer than their forefathers.

"Animal food, which has been any conſiderable time in ſalt, becomes hard, and requires more force to break and digeſt it, proper for nouriſhment, than weak ſtomachs are capable of exerting; conſequently, ſalted beef, pork, and ſuch like things, are improper for children."

Nevertheleſs, ſalt in itſelf is ſo far from producing; the ſcurvy, that it is now generally ſuppoſed to be its greateſt antidote; otherwiſe, why do ſo many thouſands yearly flock to bathe, and drink ſea-water? There is, further, a certain ſtimulating quality in ſalt, that greatly promotes digeſtion; and whatſoever aſſiſts that office, muſt of courſe rather contribute to purify the blood, than to render it foul; which is the ſuppoſed cauſe of the preſent frequently imagined, but oftentimes only a, faſhionable diſeaſe—called the ſcurvy.

I have been repeatedly thanked for the following information. A table ſpoonful or two of ſalt, put into a quart of ſpring water, is a moſt excellent waſh to cleanſe the ſkin, eſpecially if the face be well rubbed with a coarſe cloth ſome little time after it has been waſhed with the ſalt and water. By this means the pores of the ſkin will be kept open, and no obſtructed perſpiration will remain, which is the cauſe of carbuncles and thoſe red pimples which are generally miſtaken for the ſcurvy. It is this ſtimulating and cleanſing quality of ſalt that makes the ſea-water ſo uſeful to thoſe who are troubled with eruptions; therefore, by the above proportion, the water is rendered ſtill more efficacious, and will clear the face and neck of heats and pimples which frequently diſturb the ladies.

I cannot bear the modern proſtitution of the words female delicacy: the duties of a mother are by ſome thought to be indelicate; and the appellation is now given only to diſeaſe and ſickneſs; for a woman muſt become a walking ghoſt, to be ſtyled truly delicate. I frequently lament, that the idea is not more ſtrictly confined to mental accompliſhments; nevertheleſs, I wiſh my fair friends to beſtow every rational and laudable attention to render their perſons neat, elegant, and engaging. I cannot conclude this letter better than by obſerving, that, although beauty ſtands like a cypher when alone, every additional qualification increaſes its merits ten-fold; and the leſs ſenſible of it the poſſeſſor herſelf appears to be, the more it will always be regarded by the admiring world.

WE have hitherto, my fair philoſophers, been carefully obſervant of, and obedient to, the laws of nature. Her paths are infinitely various. Every ſtep we take, affords new and engaging proſpects. We have traced man from the firſt period of his exiſtence, and have followed reaſon and inſtinct, to give him ſtrength and vigour in the earlieſt part of life. So fair a dawning promiſes a robuſt and healthy conſtitution; nevertheleſs, neceſſity obliges us to proceed to a further ſpeculation.

Let it, therefore, be the buſineſs of this letter to enquire how nearly art can ſupply the place of nature. Let us endeavour to point out a method to thoſe unfortunate mothers, who are, through neceſſity, deprived of the happy enjoyment of ſuckling their own children. It may not prove unworthy the attention of thoſe, who, by choice, commit them to the care of others. I propoſe to carry my obſervations in this letter, as far as my inſtructions have been given to the valuable and truly praiſe-worthy matrons, whoſe duty to their family over-balances every other conſideration. By and by, when the ſuckling is about to be weaned, and the dry-nurſed child brought equally forward, the rules of diet will be the ſame for both; on which account I went no farther in my laſt, than the proper period for introducing broths, jellies, &c. All other conſiderations will be brought under general directions.

Mother's milk we have ſhown to be the natural and moſt proper ſupport for tender infants; it is a digeſted fluid, already animalized, and therefore fitteſt for the nouriſhment of children. This remark alſo ſhows that the infant body is, by nature, deſigned to receive only a liquid nouriſhment; a hint particularly neceſſary to be attended to at this time, as it altogether obviates the general objections againſt confining children to milk, in preference to thicker victuals, of which I ſhall ſpeak more fully before I conclude this letter.

We have taken notice how tender the ſtomach and bowels of infants are, and have thence inferred, that almoſt every complaint they are afflicted with, proceeds from the improper quality of their food: and the too large quantity given them, alſo increaſes the diſeaſe. We took notice, that the digeſtive powers of a new-born child are incapable of producing a kind nutriment even from bread, and therefore exclaimed againſt feeding them with what is called pap. But ſuppoſe it to be otherwiſe: what a poor pittance of ſupport does ſuch a mother allow to her child, who gives it only bread and water!

I have ſeen many fatal inſtances of ſuch ſtrange management. We ourſelves ſhould think it hard, indeed, and nothing but dire neceſſity could compel us to live thus ſparingly; beſides, how would our fleſh waſte, and our ſtrength decay! If ſo, ſurely it cannot be proper for an infant, whoſe bones have not as yet ſtrength ſufficient to ſupport its frame. How is it poſſible for a child to thrive under ſuch treatment?—Perhaps ſome will allow a little milk to be mixed with its food, but very ſparingly; becauſe they imagine it ſtuffs the ſtomach, and fills a child full of phlegm. Idle and ridiculous are theſe, and all other arguments that can be urged againſt this natural and ſalubrious diet.

Milk is here ſpoken of in general terms; becauſe I intend, in a ſubſequent letter, to examine the ſeveral properties of different milks, and to remark the purpoſe to which each kind ſeems beſt adapted. Cow's milk being moſtly uſed, and in my opinion the propereſt, in general, to anſwer our preſent deſign, I would therefore be underſtood to recommend that, if no other kind is particularly mentioned.

I know very well that many perſons, and perhaps ſome gentlemen in the practice of phyſic, will differ from me in opinion, when I prefer cow's milk to every other kind of nouriſhment, in the early months, where it is neceſſary to bring a child up by hand. Let me beg of them only to make the experiment, as I ſpeak from experience; and if they have reaſon to cenſure me afterwards, we ſhall meet upon equal terms; till then, at leaſt, I ſhall hope for candour from every one.

It has frequently been ſuggeſted to me, that cow's milk is too rich, abounding alſo with too much cream, and that being of a fat oily nature, it will relax more than ſtrengthen. But, however, this fault is not much to be apprehended from the milk uſed in and about London. Suppoſing it to be the caſe in the country, which I am far from allowing, you may let it ſtand till the cream riſes to the top, and uſe the ſkimmed milk; or by boiling deprive it of the greateſt part of this oily quality, which collects itſelf upon the ſurface, and may then be readily taken off; or it may be diluted with water.

Theſe doubts being removed, the milk of cows appears, I think, to be the propereſt ſubſtitute we can make, for that of the breaſt; and will anſwer beſt, after the firſt month or two, without boiling, unleſs it purges the child; in which caſe, boiling it will generally prevent the inconvenience, proceeding in all likelihood from its oily particles. I have no objection to a ſmall quantity of Liſbon ſugar being mixed with it, particularly if the child be coſtive; and indeed this may frequently be of uſe, to prevent its too great tendency to become acid, from whence diſorders of the bowels ſometimes ariſe.Let it be remembered, that, through this ſyſtem of nurſing, children are ſuppoſed to be free from diſeaſe, and that I am to be conſidered not as the phyſician, but as the friend: when they are ill, it is the buſineſs of thoſe perſons who have the care of them, to direct a proper food; and upon many occaſions, milk may be ſo managed as to prove greatly inſtrumental, even as a well-adapted nouriſhment, to their recovery. In too laxative a habit of body, for inſtance, rice and cinnamon may be added; but then care ſhould be taken, that the rice be well boiled in water, before it is mixed with the milk. In the watery gripes, I frequently direct the following diet, for infants: Boil a table ſpoonful of ground rice, with a little cinnamon, in half a pint of water, till the water is nearly conſumed; then add a pint of milk, and let the whole gently ſimmer for five minutes; ſtrain it through a lawn ſieve, and make it palatable with a little ſugar. This food correſponds well, in ſuch complaints, with the curative intention.

One remark I ſhall beg leave to make, which comes in here with propriety. We have taken notice in a former letter of the cleanſing quality of mother's milk, upon its firſt coming into the breaſt. Now, where children are debarred from receiving it, a ſubſtitute of ſome gentle purgative is highly proper, to give ſuch a ſtimulus to the bowels, as nature has provided by the mother's means. What I have experienced to be the beſt calculated for anſwering this purpoſe, is ſomething of the following kind.

Suppoſe we ſay, ſyrup of violets and oil of almonds, of each one ounce, with four or five grains of rhubarb. This compoſition being ſhaken will pretty well unite. A tea-ſpoonful may be given as often as you find it neceſſary.

In caſe the milk be thrown up in a curdled ſtate, a ſmall quantity of ſalt will generally prevent it; a circumſtance I would wiſh to have attended to; as many children are ſubject to this complaint; and it is a method I have ſeldom known to fail, unleſs they are greatly over-fed. Whenever a child throws up the milk, it is to be conſidered as a complaint, and particularly ſo if it appears curdled; becauſe it has then paſſed through the firſt change it undergoes in the ſtomach, and conſequently diſcovers that the ſtomach itſelf is too feeble to execute its further office. In this caſe, ſometimes the ſtomach abounds with too great an acidity, but more frequently it is loaded and oppreſſed by the quantity which has been given to the infant. Milk always curdles in the ſtomach; and it is only a vulgar error to ſuppoſe the contrary; for by this means it becomes a ſubſtantial aliment, and affords a proper nouriſhment to children and other animals; whereas, if it continued in a fluid ſtate, it would contribute but little to their ſupport.

What we have next to obſerve, is the quantity of milk proper to be given to a new-born child, in the twenty-four hours. What think you, my dear ladies, of a Wincheſter pint being a ſufficient quantity for the day and night! Methinks I hear an exclamation—O barbarous man! Under a pretence of correcting us, he intends to ſtarve the little helpleſs creatures. Was there ever ſuch a cruelty heard of before? Allow a child only a pint of milk in a day! Why, it would eat two quarts of pap, and ſtill cry for more.—Yet, after all ſurpriſe, an infant in the month will receive, from one pint of milk, more real and good nouriſhment, than from ten quarts of pap, as it is called; indeed I might ſay more nouriſhment than from any other kind of ſupport: for, notwithſtanding the juices which afford ſuſtenance are all liquid, it is neceſſary they ſhould, contain the eſſence of ſubſtantial food: and although a man who is accuſtomed to daily labour, would ſoon be emaciated by living continually upon broths, yet milk alone would ſupport his ſtrength and ſpirits, becauſe it curdles in the ſtomach, and thereby becomes a more ſolid and nutritious aliment. And further, let me again remind you, that not only the human ſpecies, but likewiſe all other animals, receive their continual nouriſhment from a milky juice which is prepared in their own bodies from the aliment received, as was before explained in the fourth letter.

There are, as we have mentioned, very great errors in the quantities as well as the qualities of infants' food. It was before obſerved, that children's ſtomachs ſhould not be always crammed. To this it is in a great meaſure owing that they are ſo continually puking: a circumſtance looked upon by ſome to be natural and wholeſome, who prepoſterouſly encourage this diſpoſition by frequent vomits. But, ſurely, nature never intended more nouriſhment to be received than is neceſſary for our ſupport. Does any perſon in a good ſtate of health, after a moderate and proper meal, ever find an inclination to throw it up again? Are the young offspring of other animals conſtantly puking? How therefore can it be ſuppoſed natural for children to do ſo? A little reflexion would ſoon convince ſuch ſuperficial obſervers of their error; for you will rarely find a child throw up its food, when properly nurſed.

If one pint of milk, therefore, in the firſt week or two, be too little, it is an error on the right ſide; for it appears to be enough to ſupport the child; and much worſe conſequences are to be apprehended from giving it too much. We muſt, every one of us, have often experienced how neceſſary it is to be hungry, in order to reliſh our food; and that to be continually indulging, palls the appetite. Certainly then, it muſt be equally neceſſary, that the infant ſtomach ſhould ſometimes know the ſenſe of hunger.

Would not three or four pints of milk, in the twenty-four hours, ſupport a grown perſon? If ſo, undoubtedly one third part is amply ſufficient to nouriſh a new-born child. But I would not be underſtood to cavil ſcrupulouſly for a ſpoonful or two; I only mean to aſſiſt the candid enquirer in this moſt eſſential part of the management of children, who are denied the breaſt.

We come next to aſcertain the proper quantity to be given for a meal. A quarter of a pint is fully ſufficient to be taken at a time; and let the hours of feeding, as well as every other particular, be regulated according to the rules laid down in the ſeventh letter. In ten days, or a fortnight, you may increaſe the daily allowance a quarter of a pint: and at the end of a month you may allow a pint and a half in the twenty-four hours: another half-pint may be gradually permitted by the time it is three months old; and this quantity, if the child is voracious, may be ſtill increaſed to three pints in the day; which, I am perſuaded, if the milk be good, will prove ſufficient: and this allowance will, I hope, cancel the ſeverity of every matron's cenſure.

Having now given you my thoughts upon this part of infant management, there is but one rational objection that ſtrikes me, againſt the propriety of ſo plain and ſimple a method of bringing children up by hand. Their natural food is allowed to be milk—but it may be urged, that the human milk, in conſequence of the mother's diet, is more ſtrengthening than that of cows, aſſes, or any other ſpecies of brutes. Granted—but then again this argument equally proves, that cow's milk partakes more of a vegetable nature than the milk of women; and, during the early months, all that the advocates for the preſent cuſtom would contend for, is—what? pap, panado, &c. which are of the vegetable kind; and therefore their arguments require no farther anſwer. Were it propoſed to add ſome proper broths to cow's milk, after the firſt four or five weeks, where there is no circumſtance particularly to forbid it, the deſign would appear reaſonable, in ſupplying the ſuppoſed deficiency of the animal property; and it is a point I would readily join in, nay, it is what I mean to recommend towards the end of the third month. I frequently order milk and broth to be mixed together, and think it proper food. But let every ſuch meal, however, as before adviſed, ſupply the place of the uſual milk. In whatever way you manage children, be careful not to feed them over-much.

There is yet a circumſtance of great moment to be attended to, and, if rightly comprehended by my fair pupils, will convince them, that the allowance for the earlier months is amply ſufficient: it is the manner in which infants ought to be fed.

Surely it is wrong to put a large boat full of pap into their little mouths, ſuffering them to ſwallow the whole of it in the ſpace of a minute; and then perhaps, from their cries, to ply them with a ſecond, which is no ſooner down than thrown up again.

We have mentioned the ill conſequences of grown perſons devouring their victuals too eagerly; and experience muſt often have convinced every one, that a much leſs quantity than we generally take, if eaten leiſurely, and well chewed, will ſuffice for a meal; and alſo that, after ſuch meals, we ſeem more comfortable, and are inclined to purſue either buſineſs or pleaſure with far greater eaſe to ourſelves. On the contrary, from a too haſty and hearty meal the ſtomach will be diſtended over-much, which is always productive of indolence, and a tendency to ſleep. The ſame muſt certainly hold good with reſpect to infants.

Beſides, to obtain milk from the breaſt, nature wiſely obliges them to earn their nouriſhment by the labour of drawing it. The ſtream being exceedingly ſmall upon the milk's firſt coming into the breaſt, it requires a long time to procure a quarter of a pint; and the very exerciſe fatigues them, before they have received too much. This, in my opinion, fully proves that quantity to be ſufficient for a meal.

There is nothing, therefore, wanting, I hope, to complete our ſyſtem, but a contrivance to ſupply the place of a nipple, that the child may ſtill labour to obtain its ſupport; which alone will greatly prevent the error in quantity. I have ſeen ſome inventions of this kind, by means of parchment or leather ſewed to the pointed end of a horn, which is no bad thought, and capable of great improvement. The Hollanders, when they travel, have a ſmall pewter veſſel, ſomewhat in the form of a cone, which is filled with milk, and a piece of ſponge covered with a linen cloth is tied over the ſmaller end. This ſerves the children very well as an artificial nipple: for it is obſerved, that a Dutch woman ſeldom or never gives ſuck to her child before ſtrangers.

We have plainly demonſtrated, that infant nouriſhment, particularly in the early months, is deſigned by nature to be altogether liquid: againſt ſuch contrivances, therefore, I cannot ſee an objection.

Would you, my fair friends, undertake this purſuit, from the happy fertility of female imagination, I am certain a little experience would point out to you a ready and convenient method to anſwer every purpoſe; and I am thoroughly ſatisfied, the happy conſequences would amply reward your pains—by preſerving many dear little innocents, that daily fall a ſacrifice to repletion or over-feeding.

THE cultivation of the mind I have intentionally reſerved for the ſubject of my next letter; for which reaſon I ſhall now finiſh my obſervations upon nurſing, and endeavour to point out the ſafeſt and moſt prudent method of introducing children into the family way of living.

At length, after ſurmounting the difficulties and inconveniencies attending the cutting of their teeth, we have now ſet them upon their legs; to the no ſmall joy of the mother, and the relief of thoſe ſervants whoſe buſineſs it is to wait upon them.

We have hitherto permitted breed, milk, and the juices only of fleſh; and before we advance any farther, I beg leave to make the following remarks, by which my intelligent readers may profit.

The food of man, in all its various ſhapes, however tortured and diſguiſed, is ſtill confined to animal and vegetable productions.

Of vegetables, bread is the moſt valuable preparation, as the experience of ages proves. That made from wheat flour is ſtill the moſt ſtrengthening, and ever to be preferred by thoſe who have the means of obtaining it.

The milk of cows, although it may be ſuppoſed not to partake ſo much of a ſtrengthening nature as the human milk, thoſe creatures feeding altogether upon vegetables, is, nevertheleſs, to be conſidered as a food partly animal, and partly vegetable, prepared alſo under an all-wiſe direction.

Gravies, jellies, and broths, we know, are animal juices; either ſpontaneouſly flowing from fleſh, upon cutting it, after it is dreſſed; or obtained by a maceration of it in water.

From theſe reflexions, therefore, it appears, that in the regimen already permitted, the moſt valuable ſupplies of life are granted, and in a manner the beſt adapted to infant conſtitutions; requiring but little exertion of the digeſtive faculties, and gradually introducing that nutriment, which, as the body becomes ſtronger, it muſt prepare for itſelf from the groſſer aliments.

The intention of what has been ſaid is to encourage, as much as poſſible, the continuation of this diet a little longer; and, indeed, ſome of the fineſt children I ever ſaw, have been chiefly confined to a food like this, for the firſt five or ſix years. But although I ſtrongly recommend it, and am conſcious that children, unacquainted with the indulgence of variety, would be perfectly ſatisfied without animal food; yet I am perſuaded that the culpable fondneſs of moſt parents will initiate them, too early, into the luxuries of a plentiful table.

It is true, we made an obſervation, that nature never intended fleſh for our food, until we had teeth to eat it; but it by no means follows, as ſoon as we have our teeth, that with an unbounded freedom we are to devour animal food. Remember, likewiſe, ye too indulgent parents, it has been before obſerved, that every alteration in our manner of living ſhould be brought about ſtep by ſtep, haſty tranſitions being always dangerous: and let this teach us to be cautious in our manner of admitting fleſh into the meals of children.

After what has been advanced, and after having given you my opinion that it is yet time enough to ſuffer children to eat fleſh, I now leave this very important point to the diſcretion of parents: however, permit me to recommend, that when fleſh is firſt introduced into their food, at whatever time it may be, this part of their diet ſhould be allowed them but ſparingly; and a regard alſo ſhould be paid to its quality.

The fleſh of barn-door fowls, beef, mutton, and full-grown animals in general, is the beſt. Crammed poultry, calves, and houſe-fed lambs, kept up to fatten, are improper, becauſe their juices yield by far leſs nouriſhment.

Hence, beef tea, and mutton broth, are preferable to thoſe made from lamb or veal. The fleſh alſo of ſuch young fattened animals does not paſs off weak ſtomachs ſo eaſily as the other.

High-ſeaſoned gravies, and ſoups, made diſhes, and ſalted meats, are ever to be avoided; though ſalt with their meats may be allowed, for the reaſons before given.

Although it is not meant to confine them at this age ſo ſtrictly to bread, I am by no means for permitting too free a uſe of vegetables; being convinced, that ſome complaints of the bowels, in children more advanced in life, proceed from this error, and particularly worms: ſince, if the eggs of theſe inſects are not taken in, together with theſe productions of the garden, on which they harbour and feed, yet this food at leaſt affords a conſiderable quantity of ſlime, which, ſtagnating in the bowels, ſerves as an habitation for theſe pernicious little animals. This is my reaſon for allowing a little wine, now and then, to be given to children, and I am perſuaded that I have ſeen its good effect. Care ſhould be taken in the choice of vegetables; thoſe of the mealy kind, that approach the neareſt to bread, are to be preferred, ſuch as potatoes, rice, &c. Turnips are alſo good. Lettuces, and ſome few others, may, in moderation, be given to them, which your own prudence muſt point out.

The kitchen preparations of milk, ſuch as cuſtards, blamange, white-pots, &c. are exceedingly proper; and in this kind of food a greater variation may be indulged with leſs harm, being, for the moſt part, equally good and innocent. Salop mixed with milk, as mentioned in the laſt letter, may be granted as often as you pleaſe; and let it be remembered, that it is the beſt way of giving that nutritious vegetable to children and invalids.See Family Phyſician, p. 26. Eggs are good; and if the yelks be beaten up with warm milk, without boiling, they afford the beſt nouriſhment; yet, however they are dreſſed, never ſuffer children to eat them, if the yelks be hard. Puddings in general are likewiſe good; but the moſt ſimple are beſt. Tarts and fruit-pies may be allowed in moderation.

Shell-fiſh, and indeed moſt other kinds, may, now and then, be given; but the firmeſt are to be preferred. Theſe are the moſt prudent directions that occur to my memory; but, after all, thoſe are wiſeſt who do not pamper young children with too great a variety.

I ſhall not trouble you with the curative part of diſeaſes incident to children, that being altogether the concern of the phyſician; though it would give me a real pleaſure to ſee ſuch complaints treated of, in a maſterly manner, by ſome accurate obſerver of nature. This preſent ſyſtem of nurſing is intended only to manage children ſo as to prevent illneſs; and it has coſt me no ſmall pains to ſeparate the two provinces, which, I hope, is effected to the ſatisfaction of my readers.

As to rhubarb, Gaſcoign's powder, magneſia, &c. every mother's obſervations in ſome meaſure direct a proper uſe of themThoſe parents who are at a loſs upon theſe points may conſult the Family Phyſician.—For Rhubarb, ſee p. 26,—Gaſcoign's Powder, p. 15—Magneſia, p. 19.; but when diſorders do not give way to ſuch ſimple methods, there is no time to be loſt. I beg leave therefore to caution parents, who can obtain the advice of an experienced practitioner, not to depend upon their own judgments ſo far, as to ſuffer a continuance of complaints until they exceed the power of relief. Delays are always dangerous, with reſpect to diſeaſe, even in grown perſons; but they are much more ſo in children, becauſe they have not equal ſtrength, and conſequently ſooner ſink under bodily infirmities.

CONFESS, ye worthy parents who know the height of earthly bliſs, what temptations in life could prevail upon you, after two or three years of age, to part from the dear dear offsprings of your mutual loves? Ye tender mothers, ſpeak! I generouſly applaud an affection thus fondly rivetted in the female breaſt, and anſwer for you, ladies, that nothing upon earth could prove equivalent to ſuch a loſs. Ten thouſand ſoft enchantments bind them to your very ſouls.

This is the time in which their little fond endearments begin to operate; their every action is wonderfully engaging, and their pretty liſping tongues are one univerſal harmony. How exquiſite is the delight to view their expanding minds—now catching ſound, that quickly riſes into ſenſe, beaming a happy proſpect of future underſtanding! Here the volume of man begins—even at this time the fertile genius glows. How tranſporting is their ſweet ſenſibility!

O powerful Nature, how unſpeakably ſtrong are thy ties! What heart, unleſs ſtrangely perverted, can reſiſt thy impulſe? Hence ariſes the unſpeakable difference of a laudable and virtuous paſſion, compared with an unchaſte and vicious life. My God! that met ſhould waſte their health and fortunes in the ſtews with harlots, rioting in obſcene and brutal pleaſures, where the rational being is ſunk even below pity!

Such conduct, in the cooler hours of thought, if ever they reflect, muſt cauſe nothing but anguiſh and remorſe; on the contrary, by cultivating a chaſte and honourable love, ſuch wretched libertines might become the joyful parents of little ſmiling families. What an alternative is this! Be dumb, ye lawleſs rovers; it is an enjoyment beyond your comprehenſion, for virtuous minds alone can reliſh it.

What numbers of debauchees, in different climes and ages, worn out by guilty intemperance, mournfully lament their curſed fate, in not being bleſt with an heir to ſucceed to their half-ruined fortunes! Conſiderate Providence! thus to diſappoint them —for what but impurity and diſeaſe could they give birth to? Happy, thrice happy decree of Nature, that virtue alone can claim a ſmiling and a healthful progeny.

This is a theme worthy of an abler pen. How often has prattling innocence diſarmed the rugged fierceneſs of a brutiſh nature, and melted down the rage of paſſion into more than female ſoftneſs! How often, I ſay, by theſe means is a man of wrath inſenſibly diſſolved into tenderneſs and love! I muſt tear myſelf away from the digreſſion: ſhould I indulge my zealous inclination, a volume of panegyric would fall ſhort of the ſubject.

The human mind, in its infant opening, has been juſtly compared to a blank ſheet of paper, ſuſceptible of every impreſſion: whence it may be ſuppoſed, children receive their prejudices and inclinations from the diſpoſitions of thoſe perſons to whoſe care they are entruſted, in like manner as theſe letters convey the ſentiments of the author.

That any children are born with vicious inclinations, I would not willingly believe. When I hear parents exclaiming againſt the bad diſpoſitions of their own children, I cannot help oftentimes ſecretly condemning the parents themſelves, for introducing ſuch vices into their habits. Inſtinct, even in brutes, produces a tenderneſs for their young—a harmleſs ſociety amongſt their neighbours— a paſſive fear towards their enemies—and violence ſeldom is diſcovered but againſt thoſe animals which nature has appointed for their ſupport. Can we then imagine that a worſe than brutiſh fierceneſs ſhould be naturally diſcernible in our infant ſtate?—that ſpite, malice, anger, and revenge, ſuch diabolical paſſions, ſhould tyrannize before we are capable of ſelf-defence? The very ſuppoſition ſeems to me an arraignment of providence in the nobleſt part of the creation, and appears to be inconſiſtent with the juſtice of a benevolent Deity.

It therefore behoves every mother to be watchful of her own conduct, and perfectly ſatisfied of the diſpoſitions of ſuch ſervants as ſhe entruſts with the care of her children, at this ſuſceptible time of life; when even the more affectionately theſe perſons treat them, the worſe conſequences are to be apprehended, if their own tempers are not good: for as children are gratefully fond of thoſe who uſe them kindly, they are by far the more likely to imbibe the bad qualities of an indulgent attendant; and, on the contrary, to profit by good examples.

Objects that attract the eyes are the firſt delighting: the pleaſures from hearing are the next. From ſight and ſound ideas take their gradual riſe. Hence, a partial fondneſs is formed by children towards thoſe whoſe province it is to attend upon them: and for this reaſon they are more fond of their nurſes, who are conſtantly prattling to them, than of parents neglectful of their infancy.

The want of duty and affection in children towards their parents, ſo much to be cenſured, and ſo generally complained of, often proceeds from this early miſmanagement. The indifference alſo of too many parents towards their children, frequently owes its origin to depriving themſelves of the enjoyments of their little ones at this engaging ſeaſon of life. Even to an unintereſted perſon, the expanding of an infant mind is a delightful entertainment; but to good parents, the pleaſure and attachment muſt certainly prove exceedingly more agreeable and laſting. We muſt indeed pity thoſe whom neceſſity deprives of this happy ſolace, but utterly condemn ſuch whoſe inclinations drive their little nurſlings from them. Unnatural and miſtaken perſons, who, if they are puniſhed with undutiful children, ſuffer only in conſequence of their own neglect!

Would you, my tender and conſiderate matrons, wiſh to ſee your children truly amiable? Be then ever careful of yourſelves. Endeavour alſo as much as poſſible to prevent violent exceſs of paſſion in your huſbands. This is a laudable taſk, and much more in the power of women than they generally imagine. Truſt: me, my fair-ones, truly prudent and good wives, by bending a little to the rugged, headſtrong, and boiſterous diſpoſitions of ſome huſbands, may for the moſt part civilize them; and by their endearing and ſoothing manners, in ſpite of early vicious habits, compel them to a behaviour of tenderneſs and love. Thus, by the example of an engaging deportment on your part, you will ſoften their tempers, ſo as to render them good huſbands, good fathers, good maſters, and valuable members of ſociety.

While, on the other hand, vindictive and peeviſh women not only forfeit this female importance, but too frequently eſtrange their huſbands' affections from them: and need I ſay that this want of harmony and ſincere friendſhip, between man and wife, is a dangerous pattern for their children?

From the ſtrong force of example, it becomes in a manner natural to the children of ſuch perſons to give an unbridled looſe to every impulſe; nay, their emulation is ſoon engaged to become equally tyrannical with their parents. On the contrary, where no ſuch precedents are before their eyes—where impaſſioned and youthful love keeps pace with ſentimental friendſhip—where the polite and well-bred man ſhows a virtuous inclination towards his wife; and they both join in a proper regard for their children—how much reaſon have we to expect that their young and tender minds will be impreſſed with virtue! Nay, I dare aver, that, from this rectitude of behaviour, ſuch parents will generally be rewarded with good and dutiful children.

With reſpect to the management of children, how ſhall we draw the line between indulgence and ſeverity? Although they are diametrically oppoſite to each other, it is ſcarcely poſſible to be done; nay, it cannot be determined, ſo as to admit of abſolute deciſion. Children neceſſarily require a different treatment, even from their natural diſpoſition, as it is uſually called; and a conduct indulgent to ſome, will prove the greateſt ſeverity to others. Let it therefore be remembered, that our plan is to ſubdue the firſt irregular emotions in the bud, ſo as to prevent them from riſing into paſſions.

I would, then, at all events, earneſtly recommend temper and forbearance to thoſe who have the government of their infant years. Kind treatment, good words, and a generous encouragement, to moſt diſpoſitions, will prove equal to every thing that you require of them; and if they can be conquered by ſuch laudable and gentle means, you not only carry the firſt points in the moſt eligible manner, but accuſtom them alſo to an obliging behaviour, and excite their emulation to endeavour to pleaſe.

Carefully therefore obſerve every emotion that is praiſe-worthy, and let a reward accompany it; for the encouragement of one virtuous impulſe will have a much happier effect than the correction of a hundred faults.

Such are the impreſſions neceſſary to form a virtuous mind, and they will certainly grow up into their habits. On the contrary, where children's diſpoſitions are untoward; if they be ſubdued by harſh words, threats, and chaſtiſement, how are their tempers ruffled by ſuch treatment!—and what is to be expected, but that they conſider ſeverity and violence as the only means for them to obtain any point over others, whom they may have a future occaſion to contend with? What a wretched foundation of perpetual diſquietude!

Where reproof is neceſſary, mortification is undoubtedly the beſt means of correction; and let an acknowledgment of the fault prove the means of reconciliation.

This humbles them in their own opinions; it neceſſarily begets ſhame; and before a diſpoſition is hardened into vice, ſhame will always produce amendment,

Moreover, in this caſe there is no object for reſentment, that great ſupport of pride; conſequently it initiates them to conſider thoroughly their own conduct, and of courſe to dwell upon the cauſe for which they are thus humbled. What, therefore, can more thoroughly conduce to render children amiable as they grow up, than the accuſtoming of them to a retroſpection of their own behaviour, and to an inward condemnation of their faults, of which their making a conceſſion is ſufficient proof?

Even in the moſt trifling promiſe a parent can make to children, I moſt earneſtly recommend that it be religiouſly adhered to; otherwiſe you teach them a ſhocking leſſon of deceit.

For equivocation and falſity, their mortifications ought to be exceedingly ſevere; but in every point where you find it neceſſary to correct be ſure you make them truly ſenſible of their error: at the ſame time, in every miſdemeanor, be thoroughly ſatisfied that it proceeds from a culpable emotion, before you reprove it; for it ſometimes falls out, that wrong actions may proceed from laudable intentions.

How often in life does it happen, that exceptions are taken againſt a friend, who is at that very time actually meditating the angry perſon's advantage; and yet, perhaps, appearances ſo blind him that he thinks of nothing but revenge, until an eclairciſſement takes place, when he as paſſionately reproaches himſelf for his ingratitude! The caſe is ſtill harder with children; for, when they are puniſhed wrongfully, it is ſeldom that they have it in their power to clear themſelves; and further, they may probably ſuppoſe their own good emotions to be the guilty cauſe, and thereby endeavour to ſuppreſs a riſing virtue.

Indulgence over much is liable to produce effects equally bad, as extreme ſeverity; for as the latter inures them to every act of violence, ſo the former encourages the breach of every civil duty that thwarts their ſelfiſh inclinations.

But the greateſt miſconduct of all ariſes from theſe two oppoſite ways of management being united together, in the wideſt extreme; when one moment the little creature's bones are almoſt broken for a fault of which it is ſcarcely ſenſible, and the next moment it is fondly cheriſhed to reconcile it to the miſtaken parent; and in return, not improbably, indulged in exerciſing its rage upon toys, in torturing birds, dogs, cats, and ſuch-like domeſtic animals, as infant tyranny can lord it over; and permitted alſo at the window to ſport with the lives of little buzzing inſects, that fall a ſacifice to wanton cruelty.

The child who is fondly and fooliſhly indulged, promiſes only a melancholy proſpect; but where, on the other hand, as is too generally ſeen, an occaſional ſeverity inures it to cruelty, the diſpoſition is inevitably ruined. The conſequences of ſuch ſeverity and ſuch indulgence fill the mind with every diſagreeable apprehenſion: and indeed, what can they produce but inordinate deſires, brutiſh rage, and violence?

Thoſe parents who are happy enough to ſubdue their own choler, and thereby ſet their children proper examples, will have very little cauſe for complaint againſt them: on the contrary, ſuch as are perpetually quarrelling with each other, with their children, ſervants, and every body around them, cannot expect much peace and comfort from their riſing families. But if they will take this friendly advice, to correct their own errors only once, for every hundredth time they chaſtiſe others, it will probably bring about ſome amendment in themſelves; and the force of their example muſt ſurely produce the beſt effect upon their houſehold.

We have now conducted children through the different ſtages of helpleſs infancy, and gradually introduced them, though as yet but junior characters, upon the grand theatre of life; where the happy effects of ſuch careful regulations are generally to be diſtinguiſhed. As to literary improvements, they properly come under another juriſdiction, and therefore claim your future conſideration. Nevertheleſs, a condeſcending obligingneſs, a ſweet affability, an unaſſuming ſenſibility, and a modeſt deportment, ever denote the proper education of a female mind. In like manner, prudence, abſtemiouſneſs, and virtuous diſpoſitions in men, moſt frequently proceed from the good impreſſions of childhood. Severe ſtripes, and harſh uſage, add fuel to a turbulent and revengeful ſpirit, and too frequently render a ſullen boy malicious: on the other hand, the indulged and ſpoiled child commonly turns out an abandoned libertine.

Thus, my fair-ones, you may eaſily diſcover how much ſociety is intereſted in your motherly conduct, at this early time; "for, as the twig is bent, the tree will grow;" and the ſeeds of iniquity, in thoſe diſpoſitions where virtue is not planted, unavoidably, as it were, take root, and ſpring up without much cultivation.

Every notorious vice ſhows an utter contempt for the moral duties of life; and the man whoſe character it infamous, ſeems but little to regard the opinion of others: therefore the good fame and chaſtity of women become his ridicule and ſport. Such men are continually aſſaulting their virtue, and aiming at their ſeduction. Of conſequence, the darling, who has never been curbed in the early impulſes of erroneous inclinations, will prove to be very little capable of ſubduing the tempeſtuous paſſions of youth; which will not only hurry him on to his own ruin, but alſo too generally occaſion the diſgrace, infamy, and deſtruction of many unfortunate young women.

Thus it appears, how greatly the happineſs and proſperity of the fair ſex are affected by the ſenſual miſconduct of ours; inſomuch that, in the preſent inſtance, women as well as men muſt fall degraded.

WE are now, my dear ladies, entering into the ſick chamber, in which, as well as in the nurſery, many amiable characters may be drawn. Here, the conjugal affection of a wife is laudably diſplayed—the tender love of a mother fondly exerts itſelf—the gratitude and duty of a daughter are conſpicuous—the good ſiſter alſo endears herſelf to a worthy brother—and female friendſhip wears a thouſand additional charms!

Let us picture a truly tender and good wife, in this exalted character! Let us ſuppoſe, that ſhe has deſerved recompenſe, by reſtoring to her chaſte and longing arms the diſtinguiſhed choice of her youthful love, ennobled by a generous ſympathy of virtuous inclinations!

Let us imagine this happy man perfectly recovered from a dangerous and painful illneſs; to which recovery her unwearied attendance proved greatly inſtrumental: his mind, likewiſe, impreſſed with every thought a conſciouſneſs of ſuch an obligation can inſpire! Behold the huſband admiring her tranſcendant excellency; while the honeſt tear, perchance, trickling down his check, betrays the big emotion of a grateful heart. "She, on her part, with looks of cordial love, awhile in ſilent rapture glows—then on bended knees adores her Maker"—returns moſt fervid thanks, for that her prayer of ſorrow has been heard, that He has graciouſly reſtored the huſband and the father! How great muſt be their reciprocal felicity!

I ſhall now proceed to thoſe inſtructions which are neceſſary for the proper execution of this friendly office. There is a certain impertinence frequently proceeding from laudable motives, which, nevertheleſs is totally culpable: I mean, the deſire of our acquaintance to viſit a ſick chamber. It is oftentimes, I acknowledge, the effect of tenderneſs, ill-placed, and a real concern, imprudently expreſſed. In general, thoſe viſits ſhould not be permitted. I every day experience the ill effects of chem. When, indeed, a patient is upon the recovery, and capable of ſitting up three or four hours at a time, the company of a friend, who knows how far to engage with propriety in converſation, is a ſweetly refreſhing ſolace: but locks, bolts, or bars cannot be too ſtrong to keep prating goſſips, at all times, out of a ſick chamber.

During a fever, it is a load ſufficient for any patient to bear the diſeaſe. Quietude on his part, and ſilence on the part of thoſe about him, ought univerſally to be impoſed. It is not a time for the mind to be engaged either in the purſuit of buſineſs or pleaſure.

This leads me to a conſideration of the utmoſt importance; and as I am not ſpeaking as a phyſician, but as a friend, it comes properly within that province, and I hope it will be ſeriouſly attended to by every reader. If it is now prejudicial for any one to think, even of the common concerns of life, how much more injurious muſt it prove, to have the mind engaged in that great work of ſettling, forever, our worldly affairs!

Would you, my rational friends, wiſh to be freed from an intolerable burden, never poſtpone this important buſineſs until you are upon a bed of ſickneſs. Not to ſay how incapable the judgment at ſuch a time will often prove, perhaps to the detriment of ſome deſerving friend, or not unlikely to the confuſion of a whole family, the very mention of it from any one about us, or the conſcious neceſſity in ourſelves, muſt exceedingly hurry and depreſs the ſpirits, when tranquillity and ſupport are eſſentially neceſſary: for what can ſuch an idea convey, but death?— A laſt will and teſtament is one of the moſt ſolemn acts of life, and ought never to be poſtponed till the agonizing moments of death.

The chamber, proper for a patient, is of no ſmall moment. There ought to be a free circulation of air, whether it be in the ſummer or winter. I never would have any perſon confined to a room without a chimney; it is equally neceſſary in the warmer ſeaſon for the purpoſe of diſcharging the offenſive vapours of diſeaſe, as it is in cold weather, by means of a little fire, to bring the air to a due temperament, which alſo contributes to remove the like offence.

To you, my female friends, this concern of nurſing belongs. It is an important, and oftentimes a fatiguing taſk. I would willingly engage you in it upon principle, and therefore ſhall endeavour to ſhow that man and woman were born for each other's ſupport and comfort. Their reſpective dependence upon each other is, undoubtedly, the wiſe ordination of Omniſcience.

I cannot ſpeak of this mutual obligation, without being mindful of the beautiful paſſage in our immortal Milton's Paradiſe Loſt, book the fourth, where Eve gives Adam an account of herſelf; and I ſhall introduce the deſcription at length, as a quotation from this author can never be deemed impertinent. Let us attend to the mother of mankind!—

To illuſtrate my argument of our mutual dependence, I muſt beg leave to indulge myſelf, and hope likewiſe to entertain my reader, with another quotation from the ſame author. Adam, deſirous of retaining the angel Raphael, relates to him what he remembers, ſince his own creation, and among other things, that which is to our purpoſe, his firſt meeting and nuptials with Eve. After recounting his dream, wherein he was informed of her creation, he proceeds:—

How exquiſitely charming are theſe deſcriptions! what valuable portraits of the firſt human pair! The lines elegantly ſtrong! the colourings beautifully rich! Then again the amazingly ſoft and delicate touches of this great maſter of the human feelings, wherever we caſt our eyes, enchantingly appear!

What can more fully ſhow our mutual dependence!—So amiably engaging to each other, our firſt parents, in this poem, are deſcribed, that the labour of either, whereby the other was benefited, muſt prove a real pleaſure. What an example for the encouragement of matrimony!—O that we could more generally diſplay the character of Adam! Then you, my fair-ones, would ſtrive more ardently, in gentleneſs and love, to imitate this firſt of women.

If man would endeavour to curb unlawful inclinations, cheriſhing and comforting the wife of his boſom; if he would fondly regard her charms and virtues; what emulation muſt ſuch a conduct excite in every female breaſt—to give honour and dignity to her huſband! Let men but begin the reformation, and I will be accountable for the right behaviour of the generality of your ſex.

Nevertheleſs, the culpableneſs of man will not excuſe the folly of woman; and this piece of advice, from a real friend, the ladies will do well to obſerve.

I know my fair pupils will tell me, that although a huſband may have follies and vices, yet, if he is but a ſenſible man, they can overlook them, and cheerfully ſubmit to their lord and maſter—but who, ſay they, can be governed by a fool?

When once a woman has drawn her lot, it is not only her duty, but the height of policy, to make the beſt of it. Let her choice prove ever ſo diſagreeable, or ſuppoſing that ſhe was led into ſuch a marriage by the cruel compulſion of her friends, ſtill honour and obedience are required on her part. By giving importance to an huſband, (even thoſe huſbands we are now ſpeaking of, for others will command it) a wife merits, and generally obtains, praiſe and adoration, not only from him, but from the whole world.

On the contrary, the miſtaken ſhe, who in company degrades, and upon every occaſion tauntingly reproaches her huſband, thus making him, poor man, the contemptible but to level her triumphant ſhafts at; notwithſtanding ſhe imagines her own wit and ſuperior talents are happily diſplayed, to the entertainment and admiration of her friends; believe me, ladies, by thoſe very friends ſhe muſt ever be condemned; and let her merits, in other reſpects, be ever ſo great, this culpable part of her behaviour they moſt aſſuredly deſpiſe.

But to return from our preſent wandering, which I intentionally followed as an encouragement to virtue, a conſiſtency of character, and mutual love; being convinced that theſe qualifications will make even a conſtant attendance in a ſick chamber not altogether unpleaſing. Now then let us purſue our further care, where female tenderneſs can aſſuage the ſevereſt bodily pains, and render the greateſt misfortunes of life at leaſt ſupportable.

In every diſorder, phyſic and good nurſing ought to go hand in hand; and I am the more deſirous of giving my opinion with reſpect to good nurſing, as I mean to oppoſe it to poor and bad nurſing, which has been too much the unlucky and miſtaken practice of the ſick chamber: for under the vague idea of inflammation, and inflammatory diſeaſes, even bread and water have been ſometimes accounted too great a ſupport for the patient. But with pleaſure, we now ſee phyſicians act upon more rational principles; and I would wiſh to convince you, ladies, whoſe province it is, of the propriety of ſupporting patients under every diſeaſe.

The ſick chamber is our ſubject; but it is alſo to be underſtood, that the precautions here laid down will prove equally neceſſary, where invalids are permitted to attend to the common affairs of life; for, without a prudent regulation in our method of living, few conſtitutional or long-exiſting ails can be removed, or even rendered in any degree light, and eaſily to be borne; but I am clearly convinced, that it is very poſſible for many infirm perſons to paſs comfortably through a tolerable length of life, and, at laſt, to pay an eaſy debt to nature.It would be ſwelling this letter to a very great bulk, were I to enter into a particular account of the diet proper for invalids. The reader who is under the neceſſity of obſerving ſuch a prudent reſtraint, is therefore referred to my obſervations upon diet, in the Family Phyſician: ſome hints of this kind are there thrown out, which he may probably conſider as not altogether unworthy of his attention.

The obſervations, therefore, upon children and aged perſons, are equally applicable to thoſe who, by ungoverned paſſions and intemperance, have ruined their health; for in either of theſe caſes, where the bodily powers are enervated, and the digeſtion weakened, a proper, light, and nouriſhing diet is as neceſſary to reſtore health, as it is to ſupport the young, and preſerve the aged.

Every diſeaſe is to be conſidered as a deviation from health; and a fever is the means made uſe of by Nature to free the body from ſomething that is noxious. Ought, we, therefore, to counteract her in this her own great work? Ought we not rather cautiouſly and prudently, like a valuable handmaid, to tend upon her movements, and generouſly ſupport her in the deſign ſhe aims at? Surely this appears to every one reaſonable.

However, where there is a fever, or great weakneſs of the body, or where the body itſelf is emaciated, an alteration from the common manner of living is certainly neceſſary. To theſe points, therefore, I ſhall confine my advice, as other conſiderations come under a medical direction.

Few perſons are conſtrained to keep their chambers, who are not troubled with great loſs of ſtrength, or feveriſh complaints; either as the firſt cauſe, or as ſymptoms accompanying other diſeaſes. Suppoſing then theſe circumſtances, the conſtitution being thus reduced, or Nature labouring to throw off a diſeaſe, the body certainly requires a nouriſhment of the moſt ſimple kind; by ſimple, I mean eaſy of digeſtion, but let it at the ſame time be comfortable. The ſtomach and bowels muſt, of neceſſity, be equally affected with the other parts of the body, and conſequently unable to perform their offices upon the common ſupports of life.

Animal food, therefore, is particularly to be forbidden: and I am ſorry to be obliged to blame the fondneſs of parents, and thoſe who aſſiſt in ſick chambers, for too frequently indulging patients thus unwarrantably. Give me leave to obſerve, if fleſh be permitted during the exiſtence of a fever, or when the body, by illneſs, is exceedingly weakened and emaciated, from the incapacity of the digeſtive faculties, the nouriſhment produced muſt be imperfect, crude, offenſive; and conſequently, inſtead of a ſupport, muſt add an additional weight to the diſeaſe.

But, at the ſame time, let it be remembered, that, as a ſupport is neceſſary, good broths, wine whey, jellies, panado, a beverage of wine and water, &c. are to be diſcretionally permitted; and indeed the inclination of the ſick perſon will generally determine the propriety of theſe things; for where they are hurtful, an univerſal loathing of them commonly takes place.

Theſe, and ſuch like ſippings, being eaſy of digeſtion, are not only the propereſt for a diſeaſed ſtate of the ſtomach and bowels, but they alſo ſupply the body with a neceſſary nouriſhment to uphold its ſtrength under the diſorder. It is a point at preſent acknowledged by all good phyſicians. It is, in my opinion, a circumſtance minutely to be dwelt upon; for woful experience has often convinced me, that the raſhneſs of an obſtinate nurſe, in one unlucky hour, has counteracted the operations of a well-regulated, and otherwiſe ſucceſsful, regimen.

Although I would debar patients from animal food, where there is a feveriſh complaint, nevertheleſs I do moſt earneſtly recommend a generous, but diſcretionary, ſupport of eaſily digeſted and comfortable liquid nouriſhment, in every fever. I mean, that barley-water, mint and balm tea, with ſuch like drinks, will not ſufficiently ſupport the ſtrength of a patient under any kind of fever, even for a few days, and much leſs for as many weeks. As to the diſtinctions of inflammatory, nervous, and putrid, it is not my buſineſs to enter upon them here; but ſuppoſing the fever to be inflammatory, the patient is, or ought to be, confined to bed, and a breathing ſweat encouraged. Will not then an already almoſt digeſted and innocent liquid nouriſhment anſwer the phyſician's aim, at the ſame time that it ſupports the patient? Experience has convinced me of its utility. I cannot help, therefore, ſtrongly recommending it; for I am too apprehenſive that many lives are daily loſt for want of this neceſſary ſupport.

I am labouring to prevent that miſtaken care, which is commonly called ſtarving a diſeaſe, and to ſet aſide the dreadful apprehenſion that a little innocent nouriſhment given to a perſon in a fever, is ſtill adding fuel to the fire. By theſe errors the ableſt aſſiſtance is oftentimes baffled, to the coſt of the patient; and, not unlikely, to the diſgrace of a worthy practitioner. Be aſſured, that it is more eligible to endeavour to ſupport, and build up again, a ſhaken, diſeaſed, and tottering frame, than to attempt to pull it down. Never let this be done but by the expreſs command of wiſdom and experience; for it is a ſerious affair at all times to deprive a tenement of its foundation and ſtrength. It is much to be wiſhed, as it ſurely muſt prove a general advantage, that phyſicians would more particularly direct the regimen of diet in ſick chambers.

The punctuality of nurſes, and thoſe who attend upon the ſick, in the adminiſtering of medicines, is of no ſmall import. It is a cruel reflexion upon the honeſt part of the profeſſion, that practitioners conſult the number of their fees, or the length of their bills, more than the health of their patients. Such iniquity is but very ſeldom, I hope, if ever, practiſed; and as few perſons employ any but thoſe of whom they entertain a good opinion, let me warn you, as a friend, not to indulge a ſuſpicion which betrays a mean ſoul, and moſt probably will, at ſome time or other, produce fatal conſequences to yourſelves. Great relief, nay, oftentimes, perfect health, is aſſuredly to be obtained by the help of medicine. Great evil, nay, too frequently, certain death, enſues from a jealous contempt, or wanton neglect of this ſalutary aid.

I muſt ſpeak of another miſtake, with regard to the management of linen. A patient cannot be hurt by changing wet, filthy, and offenſive linen, for that which is dry, clean, and comfortable; provided this be done with proper care, not to give cold during the time of ſhifting the clothes. Linen which is perfectly dry and clean is, at all times, to be preferred to that which has been uſed; for the latter may have abſorbed offenſive vapours, of which the former muſt be entirely free. Againſt this obſervation, I am convinced, there are great prejudices; nevertheleſs thoſe who employ their reaſon but for a moment, will ſee the propriety of the preſent caution.

A free ſucceſſion of air is eſſentially neceſſary not only to carry off the offenſive vapours of diſeaſe, but alſo to the recovery of the patient; nay, even to the preſervation of thoſe who attend upon the ſick. It is true that a fire is proper in cold weather, for reaſons before given; but at the ſame time the chamber ought to be no more than comfortably warm; for where this degree of heat is exceeded, faint ſweats are likely to exhauſt the patient's ſtrength, whereby he ſinks, perhaps, under a diſeaſe, through which, probably, he might otherwiſe have been ſupported.

Having now cautioned you againſt the moſt material errors, which, at preſent, occur to my memory, I will beg leave to obſerve what poor creatures men in general are, when neceſſity confines them to a ſick chamber! If we reflect upon this ſcene, ought we to complain of the ſpirits of women? I ſcarcely ever find a man, in ſickneſs, ſupport himſelf ſo well as a woman does. Men are, for the moſt part, depreſſed in their ſpirits, to the greateſt degree, when they are ill. Be it then with gratitude remembered, that in a ſick chamber, the pleaſing vivacity, and, let me add, the true philoſophy, of a kind female friend, prove eſſentially neceſſary. A good nurſe will, in a great meaſure, alleviate our bodily infirmities, by ſupporting our ſpirits in time of ſickneſs.

A man, by ſtriking and ſuperior abilities, induſtry, and good fortune, is ſometimes lucky enough to raiſe himſelf, aggrandiſe his family, and bring to his wife conveniencies far beyond her expectations. But what are all theſe things, compared to the comfort, and tender ſupport, which ſhe in return can largely beſtow upon him; at a time too when the infirmities of nature will not ſuffer ſuch an exalted favourite of fortune to reliſh any one enjoyment of life? Aſk this very darling, when he is ſtretched on the bed of ſickneſs, and rendered helpleſs by diſeaſe;—let us fancy him too almoſt expiring under excruciating agonies—and now put the queſtion to him, Which is more eligible, fortune or health? He will aſſuredly anſwer, that one moment's eaſe is more deſirable than all the ſplendid advantages he may have obtained.

In like manner, the truly affectionate and ſympathiſing concern, the delicate deportment, and careful attendance of a good wife, in theſe ſcenes of painful ſufferance, more than over-balance every thing that is in the power of the moſt ſucceſsful huſband to beſtow upon her; and it is a truth which truly generous minds will ever gratefully acknowledge.

A man under theſe circumſtances, with ſome regard to his accuſtomed manner of living, and the particular diſeaſe, is to be conſidered as a child; and conſequently ought to be ſubmitted to female management. Your care, therefore, will of courſe direct you to ſeek the aſſiſtance of able and experienced phyſicians. May their ſkill conquer the diſeaſe, while you generouſly ſupport his ſtrength and ſpirits; and thereby greatly contribute to reſtore again the invalid to a healthy and vigorous conſtitution!

SPRING, ſummer, and autumn, have their various engaging charms; and there is ſomething peculiarly pleaſing in each tranſition; but ſtern winter can boaſt of nothing beſides the fruits of the preceding ſeaſons.

The life of man is often, with propriety, compared to the progreſſive year; and the only happineſs that can be expected in old age, muſt ariſe from the 〈◊〉 of a well-ſpent life; at which time, being likewiſe the winter of our days, every perſon may generally reap the fruits of a paſt virtuous conduct:—for although the benumbed limbs deny the body their uſual ſupport, and the hoary head trembles on its withered ſhoulders, there are valuable comforts yet in ſtore for thoſe, who, like the induſtrious ant, have been wiſe enough to treaſure them at the proper ſeaſon.

Such a good man or woman, one would hope, has wherewithal to procure the indulgencies their years require, and a ſufficiency to requite the attendance of a faithful ſervant. Join to theſe a further bleſſing, that, perchance, kind Heaven has beſtowed, a dutiful and good daughter to ſupport their infirmities, and, by her affectionate tenderneſs fully to repay them for the pains of her education, and that parental anxiety, which muſt neceſſarily have been ſuſtained during her youth. Here, I ſay, the wiſdom and tender indulgence of a kind parent is amply rewarded, by the foſtering care of a truly virtuous and affectionate child. Theſe are ineſtimable comforts; and ſuch is the eaſy decline that Providence intended to old age— thus to cloſe life with a not unhappy period.

Let us, my amiable friends, picture a worthy and aged man in his ſecond infant ſtate. Let us with compoſure attend him to the gates of death, there to deliver him up into the boſom of his Creator! Let us indulge a rational ſorrow, but at the ſame time ſupport that calmneſs and ſerenity which denote a religiouſly-informed mind. Let us conſider this as a debt we muſt aſſuredly pay, and that it puts an everlaſting period to the calamities of this life! Whence may be drawn this comfortable concluſion; that, if to the uttermoſt of our power we have contributed to the great end for which we were created, our future ſtate of exiſtence muſt be happier than the preſent.

Come then, ye tender and ſympathiſing fair, let us approach the chamber of death! Let us advance to the bed of this good parent, and behold his calm and reſigned countenance! Although we ſhall find it a ſolemn ſcene, yet there is nothing ſo terrible in this ſight as the world generally imagine. But draw the contrary character, that of a wicked man in his laſt moments; and it muſt be ſhocking indeed.

As ripened and mellow fruit drops, untouched, from the tree to its mother earth; ſo the good old man falls peaceably into the grave, and mingles again with the common duſt from which he originally ſprang.

It is the vicious alone that have reaſon to be terrified at the thoughts of death; but we are deſcribing the upright man, not unlikely taking a laſt and affectionate farewell of his lovely and dutiful daughters; exhorting them to the practice of virtue, and recounting the rewards attendant upon it. The eldeſt, perhaps, in her willing arms ſupports the expiring fire, while the youngeſt adminiſters ſome refreſhing cordial to detain, for a moment, the fleeting ſpirit. Mean while the tranquil parent, peradventure, gently rebukes the falling tear, prophetically foretelling that their laſt moments ſhall be peaceable like his—and bleſſes them with his dying lips.

For ſuch characters, delineated more at large, and which are worthy of our admiration and reverence, I muſt refer my gentle readers, for the female one, to that great maſter of human feelings, mr. Richardſon, in his hiſtory of ſir Charles Grandiſon. How beautifully is honourable age exemplified in the character of mrs. Shirley! The account there given of the latter part of her life will aſſuredly delight and inſtruct every one. The death of lady Grandiſon, how inexpreſſibly intereſting! Although her temples were covered with untimely ſnow, yet, in the character of wife, parent, and chriſtian, her exalted virtue had ſhone unrivalled; and when the awful period approached, behold her departure, like the ſetting ſun,—leaving huſband, children, and a world of friends, to mourn the eternal abſence of her cheering rays!

The whole work contains a noble ſyſtem of morality, and is highly to be recommended to all young perſons. Theſe uſeful leſſons will be ſtill more inſtructive, when read in the company of thoſe who are capable of making proper remarks. This being premiſed, virtuous emulation will ever be moſt excited in young minds from characters which appear real, becauſe example always proves ſtronger than precept. Thus entertainment and improvement will go hand in hand.

For the other character, I mean that of the good old man, no one has excelled the ingenious and learned dr. Armſtrong, in his Eſſay upon health. The whole poem, indeed, is written in a maſterly ſtyle, and conveys many uſeful inſtructions, truly worthy of peruſal; but his deſcription of honourable age is inimitable; and although very conciſe, nevertheleſs it contains a volume of panegyric. I ſhall beg that gentleman's leave to tranſcribe it.—

Such characters render old age deſirable, lovely, and truly honourable. The odium of peeviſh and moroſe vaniſhes, while our reverence and admiration ſtand alone engaged. Who would not wiſh to be that old man, whoſe calm tranquillity far ſurpaſſes the tranſient and paſſionate enjoyments of youth? Happy children bleſt with ſuch happy parents!

From this deſcription I hope to intereſt the tender paſſions of my fair readers, ſo as to make them cheerfully contribute to the comforts of their aged parents, while they yet live. A dutiful daughter muſt ever make a good wife and tender mother; and to a prudent diſcerning man, it is certainly one of the greateſt recommendations in the choice of a companion for life.

On the other hand, a cruel and undutiful child is the moſt odious and unnatural monſter upon earth; inſomuch that the Chineſe are ſaid to puniſh ſuch crimes with the greateſt ſeverity. It is recorded in their hiſtory, that if a ſon ſhould be known to kill, or ſo much as to ſtrike his father, not only the criminal, but his whole family, would be rooted out, their dwelling razed to the ground, and its foundation ſown with ſalt; nay, Le Compte adds, that the inhabitants of the place where he lived would be put to the ſword; as they conclude there muſt have been a total depravation of manners in that clan, or ſociety of people, who could have bred up among them ſo horrid an offender.

How beautifully has our inimitable Shakeſpeare drawn the two contraſted characters, in his deſcription of Lear and his three daughters; where the two elder appear like Satan's evil angels, while Cordelia, the poor Cordelia, is an exalted example of filial tenderneſs and affection!

To your peculiar province, ye amiable fair, is this laſt great duty conſigned: to inſtruct you, therefore, in the proper execution of it, a few uſeful obſervations may not be unſeaſonably introduced.

In a former letter we likened infancy to a lender plant; where we taught the beſt method of rearing it, ſo as to make it flouriſh in the garden of the world. The ſummer having produced you, the fair fruit of this goodly tree; and the autumn of your parent-ſtock having ripened your underſtanding; it is but meet that ſuch knowledge ſhould direct you, at this frozen ſeaſon, to cheriſh the decaying root from whence you ſprang.

We have taken notice of the helpleſs ſtate of childhood, before the body has acquired ſtrength ſufficient to prepare its own nouriſhment: we have ſhown the time when inſtinct and reaſon direct us to provide for ourſelves; and particularly obſerved, that animal food was never deſigned for our uſe until we had teeth given us to eat it.

Let us continue theſe ſpeculations, and regard the natural growth of our bodies, together with the increaſing ſtrength of our conſtitutions. Behold the child, whom you lately fondled in your arms, now contending with his play-fellows in boyiſh ſports: again, obſerve him who lately returned from ſchool with his ſatchel in his hand, now panting foremoſt in the chace: and now ſee manhood ſtamped upon the downy cheek. Let us likewiſe remember the equally gradual declenſion. At length the ſturdy ſon ſupports his feeble ſire; for he who, in his youth, was ſwifteſt in the race, is now ſcarcely able to uphold his tottering limbs. The man of war, whoſe ſturdy arm wielded the blood-thirſting ſword of battle, is now bending under the weight of his own body. Behold, his ſinews are dried up, and the purple current that bounded in his veins, now heavily and ſcarcely creeps along. In every part alike the powers of this wonderful machine decay. The teeth, deſigned both for uſe and ornament, robbed of their beautiful enamel, become unſightly, and drop out of their ſockets: the penetrating eye, that ſearched into the very abyſs of thought, is altogether uſeleſs, or but dimly diſcerns the rays of light. Manly fortitude is now no mere; and wiſdom itſelf retires from the decayed manſion. Such is the almoſt univerſal condition of old age, properly called our ſecond childhood; and plain are the inferences to be drawn from hence.

If a light and eaſily digeſted nouriſhment was neceſſary before our bodies had obtained their proper ſtrength, ſurely a ſimilar method of living is the moſt proper when they have loſt it; and therefore—the ſteps by which we mounted into life, are the eaſieſt and beſt paths to deſcend into the grave.

The digeſtive powers of age are equally enfeebled with the members of the body; and, undoubtedly, the ſame reaſon that forbad the uſe of fleſh, before we had teeth, points out the neceſſity of gradually declining it as they decay. There are, indeed, ſome few perſons toothleſs who are not far advanced in life; but ſuch conſtitutions are generally feeble, and therefore the precautions are not unapplicable to them,

Theſe arguments being rightly underſtood, there will be little occaſion to enlarge upon this ſubject; as the directions for the management of children, from the time of weaning them, until they may be entruſted to the care of themſelves, comprehend every neceſſary inſtruction for the regimen of old age; and thoſe perſons act wiſely who conſider it as a ſecond childhood.

I need not be more particular on this head, as few, I am perſuaded, will ſuppoſe this period to commence with themſelves, before it is neceſſary for them to conform to theſe rules.

Age, undoubtedly, requires indulgence; but at the ſame time indolence creeps on it imperceptibly. Thoſe perſons ſuffer leaſt from pain, who rouſe themſelves to a ſtate of activity; and there are exerciſes well adapted even to advanced life: an additional warmth of covering is at this time neceſſary; yet thoſe act moſt prudently who do not accuſtom themſelves to very warm clothes, and very warm rooms, while they are capable of enduring the variations of their natural climate.

Nevertheleſs, one remark muſt not eſcape our obſervation; I mean, the happy effect of temperance through life: it not only prevents diſeaſe as we are upon our journey, but enables us to receive the intended benefit, and cordial ſupport, of wine, and other comfortable ſippings, in this time of need. Nature, in a temperate perſon, obtains freſh vigour and ſpirits from ſuch exhilarating juices; but where the conſtitution has been accuſtomed to exceſs, no advantage, in the decline of life, can be derived from their uſe.

I have now fulfilled my preſent deſign; and through every letter have aimed at conveying my obſervations in a rational and amuſing manner; calculated, I hope, to pleaſe, at the ſame time that I wiſh to inſtruct. It is a topic, which, in different parts of it, has been handled by very able men; and yet has generally, I believe, been eſteemed a dry ſubject, particularly by the ladies, to whom it eſſentially belongs. This diſlike ſeems, probably, to have ariſen from the ſtyle not ſeeing ſufficiently void of terms of art; for the taſte, as well as the judgment, muſt be pleaſed, when we mean to encounter prejudices, and to correct long eſtabliſhed errors.

It will give me a particular ſatisfaction, if I have ſo far ſucceeded in my undertaking, as that the preſent collection of letters may deſerve a place in the ladies library; and perhaps this little volume may ſometimes prove the companion of the nurſery and ſick chamber, or even afford an hour's amuſement in a carriage.

It is intended, my fair, to render your characters truly amiable; and I truſt will be received as a preſent from a ſincere friend to the ſex. Where tenderneſs, good-nature, ſenſe, and virtue, are beautifully blended in a female form, our admiration and love are equally engaged; and where this proves to be the caſe, every man is, ſurely, deſirous of contributing to the ſervice of perfections ſo irreſiſtibly engaging—ſuch, at leaſt, is the reſolution of,