“Come hither, ye that press your beds of down,
And sleep not; see him sweating o’er his bread
Before he eats it. ’Tis the primal curse,
But softened into mercy—made the pledge
Of cheerful days, and nights without a groan.”

139. I must not forget to speak of the paramount importance in a dwelling of an abundance of light—of daylight. Light is life, light is health, light is a physician! Light is life: the sun gives life as well as light; if it were not for the sun, all creation would wither and die. There is “no vitality or healthful structure without light.”[28] Light is health: it strengthens the frame, it cheers the heart, and tints the cheeks with a roseate hue! Light is a physician: it drives away many diseases, as the mists vanish at the approach of the sun; and it cures numerous ailments which drugs alone are unable to relieve.

140. Look at the bloom on the face of a milkmaid! What is it that tints her cheeks? An abundance of light. Behold the pallid, corpselike countenance of a factory girl! What blanches her cheek? The want of light, of air, and of sunshine.

141. A room, then, ought to have large windows in order that the sun might penetrate into every nook and corner of the apartment. A gardener thoroughly appreciates the importance of light to his flowers; he knows, also, that if he wishes to blanch some kinds of vegetables—such as celery and sea-kale—he must keep the light from them; and if my fair reader desires to blanch her own cheeks, she ought to keep the light from them; but, on the other hand, if she be anxious to be healthy and rosy, she must have plenty of light in her dwelling.

142. The want of light stunts the growth, dims the sight, and damps the spirits. Colliers, who a great part of their lives live in the bowels of the earth, are generally stunted; prisoners, confined for years in a dark dungeon, frequently become blind; people who live in dark houses are usually melancholic.

143. Light banishes from rooms foulness, fustiness, mustiness, and smells. Light ought therefore to be freely allowed to enter every house, and be esteemed as the most welcome of visitors. Let me then advise every young wife to admit into her dwelling an abundance of light, of air, and of sunshine.

144. Some ladies, to keep off the sun, to prevent it from fading the furniture, have, in the summer time, all the blinds of the windows of the house down. Hence they save the fading of their furniture, and, instead of which, they fade their own and their children’s cheeks. Many houses, with all their blinds down, look like so many prisons, or as if the inmates were in deep affliction, or as if they were performing penance; for is it not a penance to be deprived of the glorious light of day, which is as exhilarating to the spirits as, and much more beneficial than, a glass of champagne?

145. It is a grievous sin to keep out from a dwelling the glorious sunshine. We have heard of “a trap to catch a sunbeam:” let the open windows be a trap, and a more desirable prize cannot be caught than a sunbeam. Sunbeams, both physical and metaphorical, make a house a paradise upon earth!

146. Let me strongly caution the newly made wife against the evil effects of tight lacing. The waist ought, as a rule, to be from twenty-seven to twenty-nine inches in circumference; if, therefore, she bind and gird herself in until she be only twenty-three inches, and, in some cases, until she be only twenty-one inches, it must be done at the expense of comfort, of health, and happiness. If stays be worn tightly, they press down the contents of the lower part of the belly, which might either prevent a lady from having a family, or might produce a miscarriage.[29]

147. Let her dress be loose, and be adapted to the season. She ought not to adopt the fashion of wearing in the morning warm clothes with long sleeves, and in the evening thin dresses with short sleeves. “It is hopeless to battle with fashion in matters of dress; women will never believe that their bonnets, neck-wrappers, or huge petticoats (until they go out of fashion) can have anything to do with headaches, sore throats, or rheumatism; but they ought to know that the more they swathe themselves, the more tender and delicate they are likely to be. If they wish to withstand cold, they should accustom themselves to bear it.”[30]

148. If a young wife be delicate, and if her circulation be languid, a flannel vest next the skin, and in the daytime, should, winter and summer, be worn. Scarlet is, in such a case, a favorite color, and may be selected for the purpose.

149. It is important that it should be borne in mind that the wearing of flannel next the skin is more necessary in the summer than in the winter time. A lady in the summer is apt, when hot, either from the weather or from exertion, to get into a draught to cool herself, and not wearing flannel next the skin, she is almost sure at such times to catch a cold. Now, flannel being a bad conductor of heat, keeps the body at a tolerably equal temperature, and thus materially lessens the risk. When it is considered that many of the diseases afflicting humanity arise from colds, the value of wearing flannel next the skin as a preventive is at once apparent.

150. Never was there such a time as the present when dress was so much thought of. Grand dresses now sweep our dirty streets and thoroughfares; rich velvets, silks, and satins are as plentiful as dead leaves in autumn. “There is so much to gaze and stare at in the dress, one’s eyes are quite dazzled and weary, and can hardly pierce through to that which is clothed upon.” Dress is become a crying evil; many ladies clothe themselves in gorgeous apparel at the expense of household comforts, and even of household necessaries:

“We sacrifice to dress, till household joys
And comforts cease. Dress drains our cellars dry,
And keeps our larder lean—puts out our fires,
And introduces hunger, frost, and woe,
Where peace and hospitality might reign.”[31]

151. It might be said, What has all this to do with the health of a wife? I reply, much. The customs, habits, and luxuries of the present day are very antagonistic both to health and fecundity.

152. She must not coddle, nor should she muffle up her throat with furs. Boas are the most frequent cause of sore throats and quinsies, and therefore the sooner they are discarded the better. “And this is perfectly true, though few seem to be aware of the fact. Relaxed throats would be rare if cold water was more plentifully used, both externally and internally, and mufflers were laid aside.”[32]

153. If my gentle reader will freely use cold water ablutions, she will find that she will not require nearly so much clothing and muffling up. It is those who use so little water who have to wear so much clothing; and the misfortune of it is, the more clothes they wear the more they require. Many young people are wrapped and muffled up in the winter time like old folks, and by coddling they become prematurely old—frightened at a breath of air and at a shower of rain, and shaking in their shoes at an easterly wind! Should such things be?

154. Pleasure, to a certain degree, is as necessary to the health of a young wife, and every one else, as the sun is to the earth—to warm, to cheer, and to invigorate it, and to bring out its verdure. Pleasure, in moderation, rejuvenizes, humanizes, and improves the character, and expands and exercises the good qualities of the mind; but, like the sun, in its intensity it oppresseth drieth up, and withereth. Pleasures kept within due bounds are good, but in excess are utterly subversive of health and happiness. A wife who lives in a whirl of pleasure and excitement is always weakly and “nervous,” and utterly unfitted for her duties and responsibilities.

155. Let the pleasures of a newly-married wife, then, be dictated by reason, and not by fashion. She ought to avoid all recreations of an exciting kind, as depression always follows excitement. I would have her prefer the amusements of the country to those of the town, such as a flower-garden, botany, archery, croquet, bowls,—everything, in fact, that will take her into the open air, and will cause her to appreciate the pure, simple, and exquisite beauties of nature. Croquet I consider to be one of the best games ever invented: it induces a lady to take exercise which perhaps she would not otherwise do; it takes her into the open air, it strengthens her muscles, it expands her chest, it promotes digestion, it circulates her blood, and it gives her an interest in the game which is most beneficial both to mind and body.

156. Oh, that my countrywomen should prefer the contaminated and foul air of ball and of concert-rooms, to the fresh, sweet, and health-giving air of the country!

157. Let me in this place enter my strong protest against a young wife dancing, more especially if she be enceinte. If she be anxious to have a family, it is a most dangerous amusement, as it is a fruitful source of miscarriage; and the misfortune is, that if she once have a miscarriage, she might go on again and again, until her constitution be severely injured, and until all hopes of her ever becoming a mother are at an end.

158. The quiet retirement of her own home ought then to be her greatest pleasure and her most precious privilege. Home is, or ought to be, the kingdom of woman, and she should be the reigning potentate. England is the only place in the world that truly knows what home really means. The French have actually no word in their language to express its meaning:

“That home, the sound we English love so well,
Has been as strange to me as to those nations
That have no word, they tell me, to express it.”[33]

159. Cheerfulness, contentment, occupation, and healthy activity of mind cannot be too strongly recommended. A cheerful, happy temper is one of the most valuable attributes a wife can have. The possession of such a virtue not only makes herself, but every one around her, happy. It gilds with sunshine the humblest dwelling, and often converts an indifferent husband into a good one. Contentment is the finest medicine in the world; it not only frequently prevents disease, but, if disease be present, it assists in curing it. Happy is the man who has a contented wife! A peevish, discontented helpmate (helpmate, save the mark!) is always ailing, is never satisfied, and does not know, and does not deserve to know, what real happiness is. She is “a thorn in the flesh.”

160. One of the greatest requisites, then, for a happy home is a cheerful, contented, bright, and merry wife; her face is a perpetual sunshine, her presence is that of an angel; she is happy in herself, and she imparts happiness to all around her. A gentle, loving, confiding, placid, hopeful, and trusting disposition has a great charm for a husband, and ought, by a young wife, to be assiduously cultivated—

“For gentleness, and love, and trust
Prevail o’er angry wave and gust.”[34]

161. Every young wife, let her station be ever so exalted, ought to attend to her household duties. Her health, and consequently her happiness, demand the exertion. The want of occupation—healthy, useful occupation—is a fruitful source of discontent, of sin,[35] of disease, and barrenness. If a young married lady did but know the importance of occupation—how much misery might be averted, and how much happiness might, by attending to her household duties, be insured—she would appreciate the importance of the advice. Occupation improves the health, drives away ennui, cheers the hearth and home, and, what is most important, if household duties be well looked after, her house becomes a paradise, and she the ministering angel to her husband. But she might say—I cannot always be occupied; it bores me; it is like a common person: I am a lady; I was not made to work; I have neither the strength nor the inclination for it; I feel weak and tired, nervous and spiritless, and must have rest. I reply, in the expressive words of the poet, that—

“Absence of occupation is not rest,—
A mind quite vacant is a mind distress’d.”[36]

“If time be heavy on your hands,” are there no household duties to look after, no servants to instruct, no flower-beds to arrange, no school children to teach, no sick-room to visit, no aged people to comfort, no widow nor orphan to relieve?—

“Nor any poor about your lands?
Oh! teach the orphan boy to read,
Or teach the orphan girl to sew—
Pray Heaven for a human heart.”[37]

162. To have nothing to do is most wretched, wearisome, and destructive to the mind. The words of Martin Luther on this subject should be written in letters of gold, and ought to be kept in constant remembrance by every man and woman, be they rich or poor, lettered or unlettered, gentle or simple. “The mind,” said he, “is like a mill that cannot stop working; give it something to grind, and it will grind that. If it has nothing to grind, it grinds on yet, but it is itself it grinds and wears away.”

163. A lady in this enlightened age of ours considers it to be horribly low and vulgar to strengthen her loins with exercise and her arms with occupation, although such a plan of procedure is recommended in the Bible by the wisest of men,—“She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengthened her arms.”[38]

164. A husband soon becomes tired of grand performances on the piano, of crotchet and worsted work, and of other fiddle-faddle employments; but he can always appreciate a comfortable, clean, well-ordered, bright, cheerful, happy home, and a good dinner. It might be said that a wife is not the proper person to cook her husband’s dinner. True; but a wife should see and know that the cook does her duty; and if she did, perchance, understand how the dinner ought to be cooked, I have yet to learn that the husband would for such knowledge think any the worse of her.

165. A grazing farmer is three or four years in bringing a beast to perfection, fit for human food. Is it not a sin, after so much time and pains, for an idiot of a cook, in the course of one short hour or two, to ruin, by vile cookery, a joint of such meat? Is it not time, then, that a wife herself should know how a joint of meat ought to be cooked, and thus to be able to give instructions accordingly?

166. A boy is brought up to his profession, and is expected to know it thoroughly; how is it that a girl is not brought up to her profession of a wife; and why is it that she is not taught to thoroughly understand all household duties? The daughters of a gentleman’s family in olden time spent an hour or two every morning in the kitchen and in the laundry, and were initiated into the mysteries of pastry and pudding-making, of preserving fruit, of ironing, etc. Their mothers’ and their grandmothers’ receipt-books were at their finger-ends. But now look at the picture; the daughters of a gentleman’s family of the present day consider it very low and horridly vulgar to understand any such matters. It is just as absurd to ask a lady to play on the piano who has never been taught music as to ask a wife to direct her servants to perform duties which she herself knows nothing about. The duties of a wife cannot come either by intuition or by instinct more than music can. Again I say, every lady, before she be married, ought to be thoroughly taught her profession—the duties of a wife; she then would not be at the tender mercies of her servants, many of whom are either unprincipled or inefficient.

167. Do not think that I am overstating the importance of the subject. A good dinner—I mean a well-cooked dinner (which, be it ever so plain, is really a good dinner)—is absolutely essential to the health, to the very existence of yourself and your husband; and how, if it be left to the tender mercies of the present race of cooks, can you have it? High time it is that every wife, let her station be either high or low, should look into the matter herself, and remedy the crying evil of the day. They manage these things better in Sweden. There the young ladies of wealthy families cook—actually themselves cook—the dinners; and instead of their considering it a disgrace, and to be horridly low and vulgar, they look upon it as one of their greatest privileges! And what is the consequence? A badly-cooked dinner is rare, and not, as it frequently is in this country, of frequent occurrence; and “peace and happiness” reign triumphant. It is a pity, too, that we do not take a leaf out of the book of our neighbors the French. Every woman in France is a good cook; good cookery with them is the rule—with us it is the exception. A well-cooked dinner is a blessing to all who partake of it; it promotes digestion, it sweetens the temper, it cheers the hearth and home. There is nothing tries the temper more than an ill-cooked dinner; it makes people dyspeptic, and for a dyspeptic to be sweet-tempered is an utter impossibility. Let me, therefore, advise my fair reader to look well into the matter; either the gloom or the sunshine of a house much depends upon herself and upon her household management. It might be said—What a poor creature a man must be to require so much attention. Truly, if his health be not looked after, if his comforts be not attended to, he is indeed a poor creature!

168. Every young wife should be able—ought to be instructed by her mother or by some competent person—it should be a part of her education—to teach and to train her own servants aright. Unfortunately, in the present day there is too much cant and humbug about the instruction of the lower orders, and domestic servants among the rest. They are instructed in many things that are perfectly useless to them, the knowledge of which only makes them dissatisfied with their lot and tends to make them bad servants. Among other useless subjects taught them are the “ologies.” It would be much more to the purpose if they were thoroughly instructed in all household duties, and “in the three R’s—reading, ’riting, and ’rithmetic,”—in obedience to their mistresses, and in simplicity of demeanor and dress. The servants themselves would be immensely benefited by such lessons.

169. A “blue-stocking” makes, as a rule, a wretched wife; it would be far better for the health of her husband, of herself, and her family, if, instead of cultivating Latin and Greek, she would cultivate her household duties, more especially a thorough knowledge of the culinary department. “A man is, in general, better pleased when he has a good dinner upon his table than when his wife speaks Greek.”[39]

170. As soon as a lady marries, the romantic nonsense of school-girls will rapidly vanish, and the stern realities of life will take their place, and she will then know, and sometimes to her grievous cost, that a useful wife will be thought much more of than either an ornamental or a learned one.

171. It is better for a young wife, and for every one else, to have too much than too little occupation. The misfortune of the present day is, that servants are made to do all the work, while the mistress of the house remains idle. Remains idle! Yes; and by remaining idle, remains out of health! Idleness is a curse, and brings misery in its train! How slow the hours crawl on when a person has nothing to do; but how rapidly they fly when she is fully occupied! Besides, idleness is a frequent cause of barrenness. Hard-worked, industrious women are prolific; while idle ladies are frequently childless, or, if they do have a family, their children are puny, and their labors are usually both hard and lingering. We doctors know full well the difference there often is between the labor of a poor hard-worked woman and of a rich, idle lady: in the one case the labor is usually quick and easy; in the other, it is often hard and lingering. Oh, if wives would consider betimes the importance of an abundance of exercise and of occupation, what an immense amount of misery, of pain, of anxiety, and anguish they might avert! Work is a blessed thing; if we do not work we pay the penalty—we suffer “in mind, body, and estate.” An idle man or an idle woman is an object of the deepest pity and commiseration.

172. Longfellow, in his Song of the Blacksmith, beautifully and graphically describes the importance and the value of occupation; and as occupation is as necessary to a woman as to a man, I cannot resist transcribing it:

“Toiling—rejoicing—sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees its close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night’s repose.”

173. Truly may it be said that “occupation earns a night’s repose.” It is the finest composing medicine in the world, and, unlike an opiate, it never gives a headache; it never produces costiveness; and never, by repetition, loses its effect. Sloth and restlessness, even on down, are generally bed-fellows:

“Weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when rusty sloth
Finds the down pillow hard.”

174. The mind, it is well known, exerts great influence over the body in promoting health, and in causing and in curing disease. A delicate woman is always nervous; she is apt to make mountains of molehills; she is usually too prone to fancy herself worse than she really is. I should recommend my gentle reader not to fall into this error, and not to magnify every slight ache or pain. Let her, instead of whining and repining, use the means which are within the reach of all to strengthen her frame; let her give battle to the enemy; let her fight him with the simple weapons indicated in these pages, and the chances are she will come off victorious.

175. There is nothing like occupation, active occupation, to cure slight pains—“constant occupation physics pain”—to drive away little ailments, and the dread of sickness. “The dread of sickness,” says Dr. Grosvenor, “is a distemper of itself, and the next disposition to a many more. What a bondage does this keep some people in! ’Tis an easy transition from the fear and fancy of being sick to sickness indeed. In many cases there is but little difference between those two. There is one so afraid of being ill that he would not stir out of doors, and for want of air and exercise he contracts a distemper that kills him.”

176. What a blessed thing is work! What a precious privilege for a girl to have a mother who is both able and anxious to instruct her daughter, from her girlhood upwards, in all household management and duties! Unfortunately, in this our age girls are not either educated or prepared to be made wives—useful, domesticated wives. Accomplishments they have without number, but of knowledge of the management of an establishment they are as ignorant as the babe unborn. Verily, they and their unfortunate husbands and offspring will in due time pay the penalty of their ignorance and folly! It is, forsooth, unladylike for a girl to eat much; it is unladylike for her to work at all; it is unladylike for her to take a long walk; it is unladylike for her to go into the kitchen; it is unladylike for her to make her own bed; it is unladylike for her to be useful; it is unladylike for her to have a bloom upon her cheek like unto a milkmaid![40] All these are said to be horridly low and vulgar, and to be only fit for the common people! Away with such folly! The system of the bringing up of the young ladies of the present day is “rotten to the core.”

177. If a young married lady, without having any actual disease about her, be delicate and nervous, there is no remedy equal in value to change of air—more especially to the sea-coast. The sea breezes, and, if she be not pregnant, sea-bathing, frequently act like magic upon her in restoring her to perfect health. I say, if she be not pregnant; if she be, it would, without first obtaining the express permission of a medical man, be highly improper for her to bathe.

178. A walk on the mountains is delightful to the feelings and beneficial to the health. In selecting a sea-side resort, it is always, where it be practicable, to have mountain-air as well as the sea breeze. The mounting of high hills, if a lady be pregnant, would not be desirable, as the exertion would be too great, and, if she be predisposed, might bring on a miscarriage; but the climbing of hills and mountains, if she be not enceinte, is most advantageous to health, strengthening the frame, and exhilarating to the spirits. Indeed, we may compare the exhilaration it produces to the drinking of champagne, with this difference,—it is much more beneficial to health than champagne, and does not leave, the next morning, as champagne sometimes does, either a disagreeable taste in the mouth or headache behind,—

“Oh, there is a sweetness in the mountain-air,
And life, that bloated ease can never hope to share!”[41]

179. Bugs and fleas.—This is a very commonplace subject, but like most commonplace subjects is one necessary to be known, as these pests of society sometimes destroy the peace, comfort, and enjoyment of a person when away from home. Many ladies who travel from home are made miserable and wretched by having to sleep in strange beds—in beds infested either with bugs or with fleas. Now, it will be well for such ladies never to go any distance from home without having four things in their trunks with them, namely: (1) A box of matches, in order, at any moment of the night, to strike a light, both to discover and frighten the enemies away. (2) A box of night-lights. Bugs never bite when there is a light in the room. It would therefore be well, in an infested room, and until fresh lodgings can be procured, to keep a night-light burning all night. (3) A packet of “La Poudre Insecticide,” manufactured in France, but which may be procured in England: a preparation which, although perfectly harmless to the human economy, is utterly destructive to fleas. (4) A 4 oz. bottle of oil of turpentine, a little of which, in case of a discovery of bugs in the bed, should be sprinkled between the sheets and on the pillow. The oil of turpentine will, until fresh lodgings can be procured, keep the bugs at a respectful distance. Care should be observed while sprinkling the sheets with the turpentine not to have (on account of its inflammability) a lighted candle too near the bed. I know, from experience, that bugs and fleas are, when ladies are away from home, a source of torment and annoyance, and am therefore fully persuaded of the value and importance of the above advice.

180. If it be not practicable for her to visit the sea-coast, let her be in the fresh air—in the country air. Let her mornings be spent out of doors; and if she cannot inhale the sea breezes, let her inhale the morning breezes—

“The skies, the air, the morning’s breezy call
Alike are free, and full of health to all.”[42]

181. Cheerfulness and evenness of temper ought, by a young wife, to be especially cultivated. There is nothing that promotes digestion, and thus good health, more than a cheerful, placid temper. We know that the converse is very detrimental to that process; that violent passion takes away the appetite, deranges the stomach, and frequently disorders the bowels. Hence it is that those who attain great ages are usually of an even, cheerful temper. “Our passions are compared to the winds in the air, which, when gentle and moderate, let them fill the sail, and they will carry the ship on smoothly to the desired port; but when violent, unmanageable, and boisterous, it grows to a storm, and threatens the ruin and destruction of all.”[43]

182. A young wife is apt to take too much opening medicine; the more she takes, the more she requires. Hence she irritates the nerves of the stomach and bowels, and injures herself beyond measure. If the bowels are costive, and variety of food, and of fruit, and of other articles of diet, which I either have or will recommend in these pages, together with an abundance of air, and of exercise, and of occupation, will not open, then let her give herself an enema; which she can, without the slightest pain or annoyance, and with very little trouble, readily do, provided she has a proper apparatus for the purpose, namely, a “self-injecting enema apparatus,”—one made purposely for the patient, either to administer it to herself, or to be administered to her by another person. A pint of cold water is as good an enema as can be used, and which, if the first should not operate, ought in a few minutes to be repeated. The clyster does nothing more than wash the bowels out, removing any offending matter, and any depression of spirits arising therefrom, and neither interfering with the stomach nor with the digestion.

183. Until she become accustomed to the cold, she might for the first few mornings slightly warm the water; but gradually she should reduce the temperature of it until she use it quite cold. A cold water is more bracing and strengthening to the bowels, and more efficacious in action, than a warm water enema.

184. It will, during pregnancy and after a confinement, be safer to use a tepid than a cold water enema.

185. No family ought to be without a good enema apparatus, to fly to in any emergency. Many valuable lives have been saved by means of it, and having it always in good order and at hand.

186. By adopting the dictates of reason and of common sense, many of the nervous, useless, lackadaisical, fine ladies will be unknown; and we shall have instead blooming wives, who will in due time become the mothers of hardy, healthy, happy children.

187. In the foregoing pages the burden of my song has been health—the preservation of health—the most precious of God’s gifts, and one that is frittered and fooled away as though it were but of little value. Health ought to be the first consideration of all, and of every young wife especially, as, when she is married, her life, her health is not altogether her own, but her husband’s and her family’s. Oh! it is a glorious gift, a precious boon, to be in the enjoyment of perfect health, and is worth a little care and striving for.

188. In concluding the first division of my subject, let me entreat my fair reader to ponder well on what I have already said; let her remember that she has a glorious mission; let her thoroughly understand that if good habits and good rules be not formed and followed during the first year of her wifehood, they are not at all likely to be instituted afterwards. The first year, then, is the golden opportunity to sow the seeds of usefulness; to make herself healthy and strong, and to cause her to be a blessing, a solace, and a comfort to her husband, her children, and all around her.

189. Menstruation, during a period of about thirty years, plays a momentous part in the female economy; indeed, unless it be in every way properly and duly performed, it is neither possible that such a lady can be well, nor is it at all probable that she will conceive. I therefore purpose devoting an especial chapter to its due and careful consideration.