life is of the greatest importance in the making and in the strengthening of a wife's constitution, and in preparing her for having a family. How sad it is, then, that it is the first twelve months that are, as a rule, especially chosen to mar and ruin her own health, and to make her childless? The present fashionable system of spending the first few months of married life in a round of visiting, of late hours, and in close and heated rooms, calls loudly for a change. How many valuable lives have been sacrificed to such a custom ! How many miscarriages, premature births, and still-born children, have resulted therefrom! How many homes have been made childless-desolate-by it! Time it is that common-sense should take the place of such folly! The present system is abominable, is rotten at the core, and is fraught with the greatest danger to human life and human happiness. How often a lady is, during the first year of her wifehood, gadding out night after night, one evening to a dinner party, the next night to private theatricals, the third to an evening party, the fourth to the theatre, the fifth to a ball," the sixth to a concert, until, in some cases, every night except Sunday night is consumed in this way,-coming home frequently in the small hours of the morning, through damp or fog, or rain or snow, feverish, flushed, and excited, too tired until the morning to sleep, when she should be up, out, and about. When the morning dawns she falls into a heavy, unrefreshing slumber, and wakes not until noon, tired, and unfit for the duties of the day! Night after night-gas, crowded rooms, carbonic acid gas, late hours, wine, and excitement, are her portions. As long as such a plan is adopted the preacher preacheth but in vain. Night after night, week after week, month after month, this game is carried on, until, at length either an illness or broken health supervenes. Surely these are not the best means to ensure health and a family and healthy progeny! The fact is, a wife now-a-days, is too artificial; she lives on excitement; it is like drinking no wine but champagne, and, like champagne taken in excess, it soon plays sad havoc with her constitution. The pure and exquisite enjoyments of nature are with her too commonplace, tame, low, and vulgar. How little does such a wife know of the domestic happiness so graphically and sweetly described by that poet of the affections, Cowper: "Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof 13. A fashionable lady might say, "I cannot give up fashionable amusements; I must enjoy myself as others do I might as well be out of the world as out of the fashion." To such an one I reply, "I myself am not a fashionist—it is not in my line; and as in the following pages I have to tell some plain unvarnished truths, my advice to you is, Close this book at once and read no more of it, as such a work as this cannot be of the slightest use to you, however it might be to one who values health as a jewel of great price—as one of her most precious earthly possessions." Really the subject is assuming such a serious aspect that it behoves a medical man to speak out plainly and unreservedly, and to call things by their right names. Fashion is oftentimes but another name for suicide and for baby-slaughter-for "massacre of the innocents! God help the poor unfortunate little child whose mother is a votary of fashion, who spends her time in a round and whirl of fashionable life, and leaves her child to the tender mercies of servants, who " gang their ain gait," and leave their little charge to do the same. Such a mother is more unnatural than a wild beast; for a wild beast as a rule, is gentle, tender, and attentive to its offspring, scarcely ever for a moment allowing its young to be out of its sight. Truly, fashionable life deadens the feelings and affections. I am quite aware that what I have just now written will, by many fashionable ladies, be pooh-poohed, and be passed by as "the idle wind." They love their pleasures far above either their own or their children's health, and will not allow anything, however precious, to interfere with them; but still I have confidence that many of my judicious readers will see the truth and justness of my remarks, and will profit by them. 14. A round of visiting, a succession of rich living, and a want of rest, during the first year of a wife's life, often plays sad havoc with her health, and takes away years from her existence. Moreover, such proceedings often mar the chances of her ever becoming a mother, and then she will have real cause to grieve over her fatuity. 15. A French poet once sung that a house without a child is like a garden without a flower, or like a cage without a bird. The love of offspring is one of the strongest instincts implanted in woman: there is nothing that will compensate for the want of children. A wife yearns for them; they are as necessary to her happiness as the food she eats and as the air she breathes. If this be true-which, I think, cannot be gainsayed-how important is our subject, one of the most important that can in this world engage one's attention, requiring deep consideration and earnest study. 16. The first year of a married woman's life generally determines whether, for the remainder of her existence, she shall be healthy and strong, or shall be delicate and weak; whether she shall be the mother of fine, healthy children, or -if, indeed, she be a mother at all-of sickly, undersized offspring "Born but to weep, and destined to sustain A youth of wretchedness, an age of pain."—Roscoe. If she be not a parent, her mission in life will be only half performed, and she will be robbed of the greatest happiness this world can afford. The delight of a mother, on first calling a child her own, is exquisite, and is beautifully expressed in the following lines "He was my ain, and dear to me As the heather-bell to the honey-bee, Or the braird to the mountain hare."-Good Words. 17. I should recommend a young wife to remember the momentous mission she has to fulfil; to ponder on the importance of bringing healthy children into the world; to bear in mind the high duties that she owes herself, her husband, her children, and society; to consider well the value of health. "The first wealth," says Emerson, "is health; and never to forget that "life has its duties ever."-Douglas Jerrold. 18. A young married lady ought at once to commence taking regular and systematic out-door exercise, which might be done without in the least interfering with her household duties. There are few things more conducive to health than walking exercise; and one advantage of our climate is, that there are but few days in the year in which, at some period of the day, it might not be taken. Walking-I mean a walk, not a stroll-is a glorious exercise: it expands the chest and throws back the shoulders; it strengthens the muscles; it promotes digestion, making a person digest almost any kind of food; it tends to open the bowels, and is better than any aperient pill ever invented; it clears the complexion, giving roses to the cheeks and brilliancy to the eye, and, in point of fact, is one of the greatest beautifiers in the world. It exhilarates the spirits like a glass of champagne, but, unlike champagne, it never leaves a headache behind. If ladies would walk more than they do, there would be fewer lacka daisical, useless, complaining wives than there at present are; and instead of having a race of puny children, we should have a race of giants. Walking exercise is worthy of all commendation, and is indispensable to content, health, strength, and comeliness. Of course, if a lady be pregnant, walking must then be cautiously pursued; but still walking in moderation is, even then absolutely necessary, and tends to keep off many of the wretchedly depressing symptoms, often, especially in a first pregnancy, accompanying that state. I am quite sure that there is nothing more conducive to health than the wearing out of lots of shoe-leather, and leather is cheaper than physic. 19. Walking is even more necessary in the winter than in the summer. If the day be cold, and the roads be dirty, provided it be dry above, I should advise my fair reader to put on thick boots and a warm shawl, and to brave the weather. Even if there be a little rain and much wind, if she be well wrapped up, neither the rain nor the wind will harm her. A little sprinkling of rain, provided the rules of health be followed, will not give her cold. Much wind will not blow her away. She must, if she wishes to be strong, fight against it; the conflict will bring the colour to her cheek and beauty to her eye. 20. Let her exert herself; let her mind conquer any indolence of the body; let her throw off her lethargy-it only requires a little determination; let her "run the race that is set before her;" for life, both to man and woman, is a race that must be run. Bear in mind, then, that if a lady is to be healthy, she must take exercise, and that not by fits and starts, but regularly and systematically. A stroll is of little use, she must walk! And let there be no mistake about it, for nature will have her dues: the muscles require to be tired, and not to be trifled with; the lungs ask for the revivifying air of heaven, and not for the stifling air of a close room; the circulation demands the quickening influence of a brisk walk, and not to be made stagnant by idleness. This world was never made for idleness; everything around and about us tells of action and of progress. Idle people are miserable people; idle people are diseased people; there is no mistake about it. There is no substitute in this world for exercise and for occupation; neither physic nor food will keep people in health, they must be up and doing and buckle on their armour, and fight as every one has to fight, the battle of life! Mr. Milne, the master of the North Warwickshire hounds, lately, at a hunt dinner, pithily remarked, "that foxhunting was the best physic for improving a bad constitution." I am quite sure, with regard to the fair sex, that an abundance of walking exercise and of household occupation is decidedly the best physic for improving a lady's constitution. more especially if she have, as unfortunately too many of them have, a bad one; indeed, an abundance of walking exercise and of household occupation will frequently convert a bad into a good constitution. Moreover, there is not a greater beautifier in the world than fresh air and exercise; a lady who lives half her time in the open air-in God's sunshine and who takes plenty of walking exercise, has generally a clear and beautiful complexion "She looks as clear As morning roses newly washed with dew."-Shakspeare. 21. Many wives, I am quite sure, owe their good health to their good legs, and to their good use of them. Woe betide those ladies who do not exercise their legs as they ought to do! -ill-health is sure to be their portion. Why, some ladies are little better than fixtures; they seem, for hours together, to be almost glued to their seats! Such persons are usually nervous, dispirited, and hysterical, and well they might be fancying they have every disease under the sun-which hysteria feigns so well! There is no chance of their being better until they mend their ways-until they take nature's physic -an abundance of exercise and of fresh air! 22. Do not let me be misunderstood: I am not advocating that a delicate lady, unaccustomed to exercise, should at once take violent and long-continued exercise; certainly not! Let a delicate lady learn to take exercise, as a young child would learn to walk-by degrees; let her creep, and then go; let her gradually increase her exercise, and let her do nothing either rashly or unadvisedly. If a child attempted to run before he could walk, he would stumble and fall. A delicate lady requires just as much care in the training to take exercise as a child does in the learning to walk; but exercise must be learned and must be practised, if a lady, or any one else, is to be healthy and strong. Unfortunately, in this our day the importance of exercise as a means of health is but little understood and but rarely adopted; notwithstanding, a lady may rest assured that until a "change come o'er the spirit of her dreams," ill-health will be her daily and constant companion. |