WOMAN,
AS
MAIDEN, WIVE, AND NOTHER.

WILLIAM L. CLEMENTS
LIBRARY OF
AMERICAN HISTORY
UNIVERSITYOF MICHIGAN


hot in
Hulbert
remarks on
Cooking



WOMAN:
AS
MAIDEN, WIFE, AND MOTHER.
AN
EPITOME OF SOCIAL DUTIES,
AND
DOMESTIC ENJOYMENTS.
FROM TWELFTH LONDON EDITION,
THOROUGHLY REVISED AND IMPROVED.
BY A LADY.
BOSTON:
MUNROE & FRANCIS.
1843.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1843, by
MUNROE & FRANCIS, in the Clerk's Office of the
District Court of Massachusetts.

PREFACE.
I KNOW nothing more essential than that
OUR SEX should be stimulated to think aright
on all subjects which have relation to their
duties and enjoyments; and I have not un-
dertaken the task of advising them without
very mature consideration of the many par-
ticulars which it involves. I trust therefore
that this little Book will be deemed a Family
COUNSELLOR, fitted alike for Virgin Girlhood,
for the Wife, and the Mother.
THE AUTHORESS,

CONTENTS.
11
GIRLHOOD.
1. Comparative estimate of difference of temperament
between Male and Female Children... The appropri-
ate mode of rearing the latter - - - - - - -
2. Dolls.. Toys generally, and Books..Piano..Phrenology
3. Nursery-Maids (evils of) and Ghost Stories - - -
4. Boarding Schools...Extreme danger of placing Girls
in but too many of these Establishments - - - -
5. Evil results connected with the subject ---
6. Exercise...Hindustan Gracefulness ------
7. Conduct of Parents to their Daughters, as the latter
verge into Womanhood, from 12 to 17 - - - - -
8. Dress... Amusements... Accomplishments - - - -
9. Graces..Dancing. Female Companions.. Employment
of Time... Toilette - - - - - - - - - - -
10. Manners... Music, strange effects of ......
11. Love, 18 years of age ----------
12. Religion an essential in the Education of the Young
14
15
16
18
19
20
22
THE WIFE.
34
1. The Honeymoon ..-.-.-..--
2, Mutual forbearance and forgiveness as it respects mi-
nor faults...An example of virtue ----- -
3. Endearments (alone and before others)... Quarrels -
4. Entire candor, on both sides, the basis for future hap-
35
41
piness - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
42

CONTENTS.
5. Housekeeping...Management of expenses by a Young
Wife...Furniture... Provident employment of leisure
in anticipation of a Family -
---- 43
6. Art of making a Husband domestic..Power of Woman 47
7. Jealousy and Suspicion - - - -- ---- 50
8. Family Hours... The present tone of Society --
9. Conversation... Review of Real Love in married life
10. Dress...Passion for show ruinous... Toilette --
11, Parties...Amusements... Evening walks, &c. -- 61
12. Behavior to male friends of the husband..Female ac-
quaintance - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 67
13. How to make men in love with Marriage, and cause
them to be good Husbands - -
67
71
THE MOTHER.
1. Preparation of mind for the event... Remarks thereon
2. Intense love of Woman for her Offspring...Her trials,
and the attention she should derive from all around
her... The Husband... The mutuality of happiness -
3. Tranquillity of the Invalid-Mother .....
4. Dress of Children, and of the Mother... Toilette -
5. Maternal obligations to the child...Weaning, &c. -
6. Early indications of Sensibility.,,Taking notice... In-
telligence....Gradual encouragement, formation, and
developement of the Child's reasoning faculties....
Quackery - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
7. Advice as to the regulation of the love due to a Hus-
band, in combination with an affectionate regard for
the Children..Fatal effects of inattention to this sub-
ject ---- - • ..-...--
76
77
79
80
81

CONTENTS.
8. Principles of family economy and family housekeeping 82
9. Domestic Management... Defective Moral Rearing - 83
11. Duties and enjoyments, illustrated by the opinions of
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu and Mrs. Chapone..Be-
reavement... Walter Scott...Concluding ----
91
100
THE NURSERY.
1. Nurses, and absurd practices - - - - - -
2. Exercise of Infants....Deformity produced by errone-
ous mode of nursing - - - -
3. Respiration of Infants - , - - - - - - - -
4. Twelve Golden Rules, &c. - - -
GUIDE TO KNITTING.
Contents to Knitting - -
- -
Crotchet, or Tambour
Knitting Terms Explained --.
-
106
140
MANAGEMENT OF THE FAMILY.
The Dinner Table -
Household Economy -
Subject of Cookery --.-
Nature and Properties of Food
144
145
147
-- 151
--

WOMAN.
GIRLHOOD.
Much of the misery which prevails in do-
mestic life originates in a want of knowledge
as to the inherent differences of temperament
between man and woman. And yet, to all
who have children, it ought to be obvious, that
nothing can be more distinct than the essential
properties of mind, peculiar to the female, as
compared with the male offspring.
The former is much more irritable of fibre,
and therefore more capricious in temper; but
as the heart of woman is endowed by Provi-
dence with attributes far more enlarged than

GIRLHOOD.
those of the other sex, she is in a high degree
more placable, more forgiving, more generous,
than the latter. The grand tendency, therefore,
of parental education, must be to direct aright
this impulsive disposition, wherein tears and the
vehemence of passion are so speedily followed
by smiles, embraces, and the sweet avowal of
having done wrong.'
Above all, let it never be forgotten, that
that tender-heartedness which is manifest in
girls, and is the guardian of all the virtues,
may be wholly perverted or obliterated, by
harshness of treatment, or by that perpetual
and unwarranted interchange of foolish fond-
ness, and angry petulance, which many pa-
rents indulge. The advice, which the poet
gives to lovers, will equally apply to parents
in the treatment of their female offspring :-
Be to their virtues very kind ;
Be to their faults a little blind.'
I know not whether it has been before observ-
ed that a girl in infancy is much more assidu-

GIRLHOOD.
ous to please, and to cherish, than a boy,
which proves that her affections are her in-
stinct, and already sway the entire faculties
of the soul. We should otherwise be wholly
unable to account for her infinite and cares-
sing care wherewith she dresses, undresses,
hugs close to her bosom, and tends upon a
wooden doll !—or the systematic arrangement
which prevails throughout the whole interior
of her baby-house !—These toys, therefore, as
productive of a moral influence on the earliest
habits, should be invariably provided : and
the books of girls, up to the age of four years,
should be little more than pictures with large
alphabetical letters, and short rhyming or
other descriptions, to be illustrated by the ex-
planations of the mother. Boys will bear a
severer training--but in all cases it is best
very gradually to bring the young mind under
the yoke of knowledge ;--or the capacity for
acquirement may be destroyed. If girls show

10
GIRLHOOD.
any talent for music, they should begin to
learn the piano in their fourth year. And
now, on the subject of indicated propensity for
particular studies, let me quote the following
from a first-rate authority on the science of
phrenology, which is deemed by him of incal-
culable value to parents in estimating the
qualifications of their children. He says,
Since the powers and faculties of the mind
appear in various forms, how incumbent is it
in those who have the direction of youth to
ascertain the most active and leading features!
If phrenology enable a parent to direct his
child into the proper channel of instruction,
it must be admitted that it is one of the most
valuable discoveries ever made by human
genius. That it is well calculated for this
important purpose, numerous proofs have
been given to the world, and so many con-
clusive instances have fallen under my own
observation, that I can entertain no doubt
whatever on the subject.'

GIRLHOOD.
The author of the above judges by the
analogy of animals, which have various pro-
pensities, but a uniform outline; and on this
principle, a careful examination and compari-
son of human heads must lead to similar re-
sults. I leave my readers to form their own
opinions; but the topic is so fraught with in-
terest, that I doubt not I shall be pardoned
this brief digression.
Before leaving the nursery, I may remark
that I was a short time ago dining with a lady
of rank, possessing a charming family, an ex-
cellent husband, and all those advantages of
circumstances and situation which are suppos-
ed to be in so great a measure contributory to
happiness; when she complained to me that
she was subjected to a tyranny and annoyance
of the most fearful kind daily and hourly. I
looked perfectly incredulous,—until she ex-
plained that her nursery-maids were the source
of her disquietude. It appears that they had
hit upon a method both of frightening and

12
GIRLHOOD.
amusing the children, with narratives of old
castles, haunted chambers, spectres, and the
like, until superstition completely dominated
over their other faculties, and rendered them
incapable of being governed by the appeals of
reason. As relates to matters of this kind,
ignorant and passionate nurses are among the
worst of family nuisances. They often bluw
into a flame the sparks of passion, which,
without their aid, would have slumbered and
gone out. These may be deemed small and
trivial matters. In themselves they are so,
but not in their consequences. Let it never
be forgotten, that "Little things are great to
little men,' and more especially to little chil-
dren. A fiery education in the nursery may
heat the brain to the verge of inflammation,
and aid in the production of actual inflamma-
tion or madness,-impair health in sundry
other ways by excessive excitement, -render
unhappy the days of others, as well as of the
mismanaged individual,—and lay the founda-

GIRLHOOD.
13
tion of a blasted reputation. It is believed that
an education of this kind injured immeasur-
ably the late Lord Byron ; and Earl Ferrers
expiated on a gibbet the fruit of a similar one.
But there is a remedy; for, if mothers were
more in their nurseries, this evil would be
prevented. The early education of the young
lady, prior to her being sent to school, may be
said to devolve entirely upon the mother, who
should avoid every thing like terror or severity
as a means of enforcing obedience, and should
become the friend and confidant of her child.
Let it never be forgotten, that obedience which
ly allied to hypocrisy.
A groundwork should at this period be very
carefully laid for after-knowledge and after-
accomplishments, but the task should be brief
and not extend beyond noon; after that time,
exercise, recreation, little domestic occupations
and society, should prevail until an early hour
of retiring to rest. It would be trite to descant

14
GIRLHOOD.
on the importance of selecting a proper school
for a young lady; but it is only a subject of
just remonstrance that this choice is commonly
left to chance! Yet the danger of a wrong
step is incalculable. There are schools of all
kinds for girls, from the best, down to those on
a par with the establishment of the notorious
Mr. Squeers,' in Nicholas Nickleby. There
are some also of an exceedingly insidious de-
scription—which are fatal to the unfortunate
pupils. In these, every thing appears calculat-
ed to benefit the inmates, yet the first half year
brings home the scholar emaciated and almost
deprived of intelligence! The schools which
lay themselves out for the reception of young
English ladies in Paris, are peculiarly open
to this accusation. I have it from the lips of
one who was a sufferer in her own person.
food of the young and growing; but at the
Pension' in question, there was an eternal
repetition of the same stale dish, until the

GIRLHOOD.
115
scholars, by choice, abstained from eating.
Whether a villanous and sordid desire to
economize the food, urged to a continuance of
this system, I know not,—but at all events, the
result was frightful; in one-half year five
young ladies died of consumption! No one
thing that I know of demands a more absolute
reform than the present system of education;
viewed morally, it is, for the most part, a mere
trade; a depredation upon the health, the
morals, the intellectual capacities of the young,
and upon the pockets of their parents!
A proper system of calisthenic exercise
should be adopted in schools, with a view to
physical development, and the prevention of
disease. There are many works on this sub-
ject which may be consulted with advantage.
One thing is certain, exercise should be com-
bined with all plans of this description, in op-
position to the almost unparalleled absurdity
of placing young ladies on their backs for an
hour or two, in order to straighten the figure !

16
GIRLHOOD.
I hope the conductors of ladies' schools have,
at all events, in this respect, become wiser, in
a generation so mentally advanced as the pre-
sent.
· A late traveller in the East speaks thus of
the females of Hindustan :- The extraordin-
ary degree of gracefulness and elasticity dis-
played by the women may be attributed in
part to an artificial cause, although a corset,
or anything resembling it, is, I believe, un-
known to them. From their earliest childhood
they are taught to carry vessels on the head;
and as they grow up, a daily morning visit is
paid to the village or town well for a supply
of water, which is always brought home by
the girls in earthen jars thus poised. This
exercise has the effect of bringing all the mus-
cles of the back into action, and consequently
strengthening the spine; while the chest is
thrown forward and expanded. We see no
crooked backs, or shoulders out, in Hindustan.
This employment teaches them, as they walk,

GIRLHOOD.
17
to permit the centre of gravity to fall on the
middle of the foot, giving them, as they go
along, a firm and upright gait.
I have long been of opinion that this
course, if followed by the persons conducting
boarding schools at home, as calisthenic exer-
cise, would be infinitely more effectual than
the method now pursued to give tone and
muscular powers to the delicate frames of
young females; and the benefits derived from
it would, I think, be so apparent as to super-
sede the present machinery of dumb-bells,
back-boards, hoops, and skipping-ropes. In
order to secure the success of the undertaking,
it will be necessary to model the jars employ-
ed, in strict accordance, both in size and shape,
to the 'lotah' and 'gurrah' used in Hindu-
stan. The former is made of brass, and con-
tains about a pint; the latter is earthen ware,
and varies in size from a quart to a gallon.
They might first be poised on the head, and
then carried forward and backward, filled with

18
GIRLHOOD.
water, by the assistance of one hand only.
After a steady upright step has been attained
the bearer should make the attempt without
the assistance of either hand, and in six
months, I have no doubt, a manifest altera-
tion for the better would be discernible.
I must presume that it is the object of all
parents to educate their daughters to be good
wives; and under this impression, how impor-
tant is it, that the conduct of the father and
mother should be such as, on all occasions, to
exemplify the virtues of such a state!
The daughter should be the frequent com-
panion of her father as he walks abroad; and
the latter should take all opportunities of ex-
plaining that which may be new and striking,
not forgetting its moral sequence, though this
latter should never be formal, or in the shape
of a lecture. From the age of fourteen to
seventeen, the mother should gradually com-
plete the domestic instruction of her daughter,
with as little sacrifice as possible of the usual

GIRLHOOD.
branches of a polite education System is
here all in all. When the young lady arrives
at seventeen, she and her mother should re-
semble sisters in their social relationship, and
an unbounded confidence should prevail be-
tween them.
It is impossible to conceive anything more
pure or more charming than this sentiment
when duly developed. I may here permit
myself to say, that a young lady of the age I
have named should, as far as the means of
her parents allow, be well dressed; and I am
sure that this is always consistent with econo-
my. There is a personal pride which is of
excellent effect in the regulation of the tem-
per and manner. It would be well, if, at this
period, the father or mother usually accom-
panied their daughter to places of amusement,
in order to obviate the possibility of her receiv-
ing erroneous or dangerous impressions; for
youth, particularly female youth, is very apt

20
GIRLHOOD.
to be dazzled by that which is merely exterior
and devoid of intrinsic value.
The toilette is of course an important as
well as a necessary adjunct to the young; and
a little pardonable vanity will exist with the
beautiful on this score; but good sense is an
excellent antidote to its becoming hurtful. I
cannot help in this place quoting an American
lady's definition of the toilette : Cleanliness
before all things; an exquisitely prepared head
of hair; and as little perfume as possible.?
As the graces derive themselves naturally
from the accomplishments, I suppose all along
that dancing has been made a component
part of education. It is bad enough for a man
to sit out' on the plea of not being able to
dance;' but a lady is, by such a circumstance,
banished for the time being from the society of
her sex.
I have a word or two to say on the subject
of music—and while I admit that it is perhaps
the most captivating attainment of the sex, I

GIRLHOOD.
21
cannot withhold the observation, that it is also
full of danger to those whose sensibilities are
more than commonly acute. In a very clever
work written by Dr. James Johnson, instances
are given of positive disease originating in
excessive cultivation of this science; and that,
in many thousand instances annually, life is
shortened by it, he has no doubt whatever.
There is however a distinction to be made;
for where poetical susceptibility to the charms
of musical composition is allied with the pow-
er to execute, the latter, by its mechanical
and industrial quality counterpoises the form-
er; such at least is the opinion I form from the
example of a young lady of my acquaintance,
is her accentual sensibility; so magical her
tone; so exquisite the netteté of her touch; so
free and powerful the combined energy (main-
ly dependent upon HEALTH) to produce effect.
Reverting to my former position, I may

22
GIRLHOOD.
further state that music has sometimes been
fatal in its effects upon the mind.
The fact of the female who died from hear-
ing too much music I do not imagine to be
well known in this country, and will therefore
give a sketch of it. It occurred at Turin. A
woman, twenty-eight years of age, who had
never left her village or heard a concert, was
present at a three days' fête in 1834; and
dancing was carried on to the sounds of a
brilliant orchestra. She entered into the
amusement with ardor, and was delighted;
but the fête once finished she could not get
rid of the impression which the music had
made upon her. Whether she ate, drank,
walked, sat still, lay down, was occupied or
unoccupied, the different airs which she had
heard were always present, and succeeded
each other in the same order as that in which
they were executed. Sleep was out of the
question, and the whole body being deranged
in consequence of this, medical aid was called

GIRLHOOD.
23
in, but nothing availed, and in six months the
person died, without having for one moment
lost the strange sensation; even in her last
moments she heard the first violin give some
discordant notes, when, holding her head with
both hands, she cried, 'O! what a false note;
it tears my head !
I have heard of another instance in an aged
person, who, from the year 1829, has had the
greatest difficulty in going to sleep, because
he every evening feels an irresistible desire to
hear an air which belongs to the mountains
of Auvergne. He has tried reading aloud,
thinking deeply, and several other means to
get rid of it, but it is of no use; he is invari-
ably forced, mechanically, to utter the words
in the idiom of Auvergne. It is well known
that the most alarming effects have been pro-
duced upon children by music to which they
were unaccustomed, and fevers have ensued
in consequence.
It must, I think, be manifest, from all I have

24
GIRLHOOD.
stated, that the day will not be too long for
the fulfilment of the duties incumbent on this
interesting age, and that indolence will be
irreparably baneſul; more particularly as it
encourages all the worst feelings and passions
of the soul, and a perpetual and manifest dis-
content.
I should require a volume to descant ade-
quately on the manners of a young lady; so
void of affectation, so natural, so delicate, so
redolent of a sweet disposition and good heart,
—as they should be! The mere mechanism
of manner is acquired by habit; but unless
the bases be accurately laid, unless the foun-
dation be in the soul, there can be no true
refinement !
From the age of sixteen to eighteen the
female heart is peculiarly accessible to the
passion of love; the most influential of all
others, and that on which mainly depends our
happiness or misery in after-life.
It is of the more consequence that the object

25
of regard be at this period (eighteen) well and
attachment are scarcely ever effaced.
And now it is that the advantage of having
been well brought up, will be manifest; for
the young lady will not be likely to throw
away her affections upon that which shocks
her tastes, eher moral feelings, or family asso-
ciations. Vice, grossness, or ignorance, will
have no charms for her; and even insidious-
ness will become unmasked to one who has
been long accustomed to the simplicity of
virtue, and the unreservedness of truth. And
as, under these circumstances, the faculty of
reason is always encouraged rather than shun-
ned, the counsel of a parent, in all doubtful
cases, will be listened to with attention and
deference.
Let me earnestly request the young lady
who reads this, not to regard love as a mere
flirtation, for it is, of all others, the most cruel,

26
GIRLHOOD.
as well as dangerous mode of viewing that
passion. A man who bestows his affections
on a woman, deserves, in return, her most
grateful acknowledgment. He has chosen
her from among many, and can there be a
more delicate flattery? Let her therefore be
invariably kind in her demeanor, and, above
all things, shun the temptation to coquette !
Half the old maids in these realıns might
appropriately write that little word on their
escutcheons! In watching over the happi-
ness of their child, the parents will do well
to keep a keen eye on the character of the
accepted lover; since too many men, I regret
to observe, are wont to pay attentions of the
most marked description, and yet 'mean noth-
ing. Whenever this may be discoverable,
an immediate explanation should be called for
by the father or brother of the lady, as the
only means of preventing consequences but
too frequently fatal, either to tranquillity of
mind, or to life itself. From all that I have

GIRLHOOD.
27
seen of society, I am convinced that, for the
most part, young ladies entertain a most un-
wise prejudice in favor of too young a partner.
They forget that their own judgments are
infinitely more premature than that of men;
and also that, physically, they are always at
least fifteen years older than the latter; a
man therefore of about thirty, is not only more
appropriate than one younger, but is also in-
comparably more likely to prove a true and
lasting friend, in that state which demands an
unlimited exercise of all the offices of friendship.
It is an error, I think, to imagine that in
courtship, the temper and mental qualifica-
tions can be long disguised; much more prob-
able is it that both parties are perfectly aware
of each other's excellencies and deficiencies;
and that, as it respects the bad qualities they
mutually forbear to condemn, in favor of the
good ones. The only mishap is, that this for-
bearance too frequently approximates to wilful
Ulindness,

28
GIRLHOOD.
In conclusion, I cannot with too much sin-
cerity of heart recommend to my young
friends a cheerful sense of Religion, as the
true monitor and safeguard, amidst the dan-
gers to which this all-powerful passion renders
us obnoxious.
A writer of the present day, of considerable
talent, (Madame Riofrey,) taking for her text
the sublime sentiment, 'The nearer the study
of the beautiful reaches the attributes of God,
the nearer will it be to the intellectual and
moral perfection of woman,' thus expatiates
on the subject of religion as an essential in the
education of the young :-
'Mamma,' says a child to its parent, how
beautiful is the sky; who made it ? and who
made the sun, the moon, and the stars? who
made the trees, the rivers, and the fields ?' To
all these questions, which indicate an inquir-
ing mind and a desire to reach to a first cause,
what answer will be given ? The religious

GIRLHOOD.
29
mother will tell her child that God made them,
and the name of God associated with all that
is great and sublime will be revealed to the
child with its earliest impressions. Thus,
without any effort, preparation, or study, the
youthful heart is filled with sentiments of
gratitude and veneration for the Supreme
Power which has created the wonders by
which the child is surrounded. To those
who take an interest in watching the devel-
opement of the infant mind, it is always pleas-
ing to observe the attention young children
pay to the phenomena of nature, and their
eagerness to acquire information ; curiosity is
a precious instrument in the hands of an en-
lightened governess, and is equally dangerous
in the hands of the ignorant; hence the ne-
cessity of confiding children to the care of
intelligent persons, who, in general conversa-
tion, and without fatiguing the mind, can
impart in an accurate and pleasing manner,
sublime truths, which lead children to a

30
GIRLHOOD.
knowledge and love of God, through the
simple but admirable observation of His
mighty works.
'If children are under the care of gover-
nesses who understand the great art of educa-
tion, they learn with pleasure, and they retain
what is taught with mildness and judgment;
the beauties of nature, the succession of sea-
sons, the atmospheric changes, all may be-
come matters of interesting information; as
they advance in age they will delight in the
history of the creation of the world, and find
in the Bible, in its simple and sublime narra-
tions, a continual source of religious and solid
instruction.
ally elevated to a first cause, in other words,
to God who made every thing, and gave us
breath and life, they may then be addressed in
language pleasing to their heart and under-
standing. Children have an innate idea of a
Creator, an instinctive knowledge of God;

GIRLHOOD.
31
could the young imagination reach to heaven,
and could the human eye see God, the simple
and sincere faith of children would discover
him through the clouds. Children need not
see, to love; they are struck by the wonders
of nature, by the beautiful sky, by the sun
which sheds warmth, the stars that shine, by
the majesty of the sea, by the flowers and
plants that ornament the earth, by the ani-
mals which inhabit it; and when children are
by the Almighty, that all have been made for
man's use, children love that God they admire.
Children delight in believing, they are not
born sceptic; they believe without seeing, and
love without knowing whom they love; the
religion which deeply enters into their heart
harmonizes with their age, religion is associa-
pure, and benevolent; it sows the seeds of a
good disposition, it is connected with noble and
elevated ideas, so that religious instruction

32
GIRLHOOD.
imparted by an enlightened mother or gover-
ness, expands the mind, improves the heart,
and leads to happiness. It is not possible to
converse on religion with children, without
speaking of the attributes of God; and as
these attributes are those of perfection, it fol-
lows that the beautiful and perfect are associ-
ated in the infant mind with the name of the
Almighty. To accustom children to reflect
on the goodness and power of God, is to make
them love the Supreme Being to whom they
owe their existence.
Children must also be taught to fear God,
but this fear must be mingled with love, or it
would create apprehension and dread in the
infant mind. I have no hesitation in saying,
that this would be a great error in education,
in morals, and in religion ; for instead of ideas
of goodness, power, and perfection, being con-
nected with the love of God, there would
be associated with these elevated and beauti-
ful feelings, the attributes of human passions.

GIRLHOOD.
33
God should ever be presented to children
as the author of all good, the dispenser of all
happiness, ere He is presented as a relentless
and severe judge; children in their simplicity
will endeavor not to displease the God they
have been taught to love.
So important is early training to the char-
acter of our race, yet so lamentably is it neg-
lected and abused, that I cannot too earnestly
commend the adoption of a training so pure in
its motive, and so manifestly beneficial as a
present and lasting good.

THE WIFE.
Or all those qualities which captivate the
heart of man, modesty bordering on bashful-
ness, is, in woman, the most effectual. As
the evidence of purity of feeling, it gives us
the best assurance of happiness in a nearer
connexion, and gleams with the brightness of
a halo around the altar of marriage. I have
thus brought my fair reader to the threshold
of that state which forms a crisis in her exis-
tence-either for lasting and corroding misery,
or for scarcely interrupted tranquillity and con-
tentment.
I will suppose her married to the man of
her choice, and the honeymoon already far
advanced; and I trust that up to this period
the many unveilings of the foibles of her hus-

THE WIFE.
35
band have not stimulated complaint or bicker-
ing! Unless the acquaintance between the
sexes has endured for some time, one or two
years or more, there must be much disguise
as to the real temper and inclinations on both
sides; and when these are shown to be in
direct opposition to all former appearances, the
shock to the heart of a woman of true sensi-
bility is dreadful indeed!
Forbearance is her only refuge in such a
case. By meekness and amiability, not un-
combined with gentle dignity and firmness,
she may yet triumph, and turn the seeming
desert into an Eden.
And here let me beseech the sterner sex
deeply to ponder over that of which the heart
of woman is capable; alas! narrowness of ob-
servation, and illiberality, in this respect, has
led to the ruin of thousands !
As example is always more powerful than
precept, I will transcribe a little incident as I

36
THE WIFE.
heard it narrated at a petit reunion des esprits
forts, by the Marchioness de Solari:
Kosciusko had long resided at Paris amidst
the esteem of the brave and the virtuous, when
political changes took place which had refer-
ence to his country not immediately in accord-
ance with his own views, and they caused him
to quit France with a view to take up his res-
idence in Italy. But, unfortunately, this jour-
ney he never lived to accomplish. He had
reached Switzerland, where he was arrested
in his progress by disease, the consequence
partly of the natural infirmities of age, and
partly of wounds very imperfectly healed.
It was during a painful surgical operation,
which he bore with great fortitude, that a very
young female attendant, who was holding the
lamp, fell into strong convulsions, and as was
evident, her sensibility had been touched by
his sufferings; she was obliged to leave the
room in a state of feebleness, and was thus
conducted to her convent, being one of the

THE WIFE.
37
Sisters of Charity. This circumstance natu-
rally induced the kind-hearted Kosciusko to
make some inquiry respecting one, whose
constant occupation being attendance on the
sick might have been supposed to have ren-
dered her less nervous in such scenes. The
account he heard of her, stimulated further
curiosity. It was stated to him, that she be-
longed to a convent of the Sisters of Charity,
where her piety and attention to the old, the
helpless, and the poor, had rendered her, and
some very distant country in the north, of
universal esteem. That she, hearing of the
Polish general being indisposed, had immedi-
ately offered her attendance. Ill and suffer-
ing as he was, the good old man determined
on a visit to the convent; nor was his astonish-
ment lessened, when, on entering the apart-
ment of the elder lady, the companion of the
object of his curiosity, he was addressed in the
Polish language by name and rank! To his

38
THE WIFE.
inquiries, she would only reply, that as soon
as the young lady who had awakened his
curiosity was well enough, she should be made
the means of a further communication. Sev-
eral days elapsed, but the general had heard
nothing of the Sisters of Charity. At length,
perceiving that his anxiety tended very much
to irritate his bodily complaint, he addressed a
letter to the elder female, soliciting the prom-
ised explanation. She came, and no sooner
had she entered the room where Kosciusko
was reposing, than she bade the young girl
who accompanied her, kneel, and bless her
preserver, Kosciusko!
The account she gave of herself was this:
—she had been married but a few days to a
noble Polish officer who had a commission in
the French army, when he was solicited by
the Field Marshal, Prince Poniatowsky, to
join the Polish legions then assembled on
the Rhine, when Warsaw was threatened
by the Prussians; that, ignorant of her hus-

THE WIFE.
band's fate, she had disguised herself as a
male peasant, and had joined the camp as a
follower, with a basket, containing spirits,
bread, ginger, snuff, and biscuits, strapped to
her back; that on one occasion a ball struck
into a swoon; that at this moment, as she was
about to be carried off, she declared her sex;
that Kosciusko, hearing her exclamations, had
carried her behind him on horseback to a place
of safety; that her husband was killed, and
herself taken prisoner by the Prussians; and
that she was in a very short time afterwards
delivered of the child then present. She add-
ed, that she had lost every relative belonging
to her in the fatal battle of Warsaw ; that an
asylum had been provided for her (by the
kindness of some friends) among the Sisters of
Charity; and that with them she had educated
her daughter, whom she had taught from her
very early youth to venerate the memory of
Kosciusko, as the preserver of their lives. Of

40
THE WIFE.
his death, she further added, she had been
erroneously informed, and had never ceased
lamenting. In conclusion she said, that hear-
ing of a Polish officer sojourning at Soleur,
she had volunteered her own and her daugh-
ter's services to attend upon him, and it was
then that his name and rank were made
known to her. The old soldier, the victim of
usurpation, for the first time in his life said,
He could not refrain from bathing his cheeks
with the tear of womanly weakness !' The
more so, when his youthful friend who had
displayed so much sensibility on the occasion
of his suffering, spoke in the most animated
language of the oppressions of her country.
Kosciusko folded her in his arms, exclaiming,
O, that the hearts of our countrymen puls-
ated but half this energetic sympathy! Poland
might yet be free and independent!' The
scene was deeply affecting. Alas, a few
weeks afterwards the gallant Kosciusko was
in his grave! The younger ci-devant Sister

THE WIFE.
41
of Charity is now the wife of a Polish officer of
rank; and with a devotion wofthy her birth
and training, may yet stimulate her compatri-
ots to another glorious effort for Poland and
for liberty !!
Mrs. S. C. Hall very justly observes, a wo-
man's happiness is wholly dependent upon the
character of a husband; for although he be
passive as a child, yet, if he be devoid of strong
sense, his very foibles may tyrannize over her
like a rod of iron! Let not this hint be slight-
ed; and further, let me most earnestly conjure
both the wife and the husband to avoid, by
every resource in their power, the FIRST QUAR-
REL; like the first step of the Caliph Vathek
to the regions of darkness, its end may be
fraught with consequences too fearful even to
imagine!
Men of the world are very apt to ridicule
the endearments of the newly married ; but
wherefore ? are they unnatural or uncalled

THE WIFE.
for? or rather are they not exacted by a state
of unity, confidence, and joy ? Surely such
misplaced irony can only be dictated by an
envious or malignant disposition. At the
same time I do think that much discretion
should regulate such exhibitions of fondness
when in the presence of others; and I am sure
that those who have been well brought up,
will not at any time forget to make all around
them as self-satisfied and as easy as possible.
To this very comprehensive rule, I refer a sub-
ject which has been by others, very volumi-
nously, but I do not think very clearly, dis-
cussed.
During this period, also, (the second and
third months of marriage,) the necessity for a
mutual and unreserved avowal of feeling and
thought will be most imperatively demanded
by those who sincerely love.
On the subject of domestic management in
a young wife I have much to say; and first, I
must insist on her not imagining, that because

THE WIFE.
43
she has no family, she has nothing to do. On
the quiet and systematic direction of her new
menage, depends almost entirely the hope
which a husband will entertain of a comfort-
able home for the future. On this also will be
mainly founded the extent of his confidence as
to the real state of his affairs.
With these, every item of expenditure
should be most scrupulously made to cor-
respond, and this cannot be done without a
systematic arrangement, and an undeviating
habit of noting down even the smallest sum
laid out. A book ruled on either side, the one
representing all sums of money received from
the husband, and the other such as have been
paid away, is all that is required, and is a
method, which, for simplicity, is its own re-
commendation
Two of the books on the shelves of a young
wife should be, Treatises on Cookery and on
Pastry; for whatever knowledge she may
have gained under her mother's roof on these

44
THE WIFE.
subjects, there will always be abundant room
for improvement. Inattention to very trifling
things, and more particularly in the prepara-
tion of meals, is but too frequently the basis of
frowning sullenness and complaint on the part
of a husband ; and I pity, while I condemn,
the wife who has to receive him under such
circumstances, wearied as he is, moreover,
with laboring to promote her happiness!
Ah, my dear young friends, let me conjure
you, to the uttermost of your power, to make
a husband's home his Paradise; or the tavern
and dissipated society may estrange him from
you for ever!
The proper management of domestics re-
quires both skill and experience; they, for the
most part, never think ; in truth, manual la-
bor, in a great degree, unfits them for the pro-
cess of reilection ; and you should, therefore,
make allowance for this deficiency. It will, of
of course, compel you to think more; but it
will, at the same time, prevent many disap-

THE WIFE.
45
pointments, many altercations, and perhaps
the loss of an honest and industrious servant.
Besides you will have less reason to make ex-
cuses to your husband for negligence in duly
providing for his comfort, and therefore com-
plaints respecting your household, which are
always irritating and sometimes disgusting,
will be obviated.
Be exceedingly particular as to the wash-
ing, getting-up, and mending of linen, a word
which I intend to comprise all articles of dress;
neatness is, at all times, more attractive and
praiseworthy than finery; and fa stitch in
time' not only saves nine,' but commonly
saves the article of dress altogether.
The English are remarkable for a profusion
of furniture, their rooms are in some measure
loaded with it; and therefore it is incumbent
on the directress of a household to see that it
be kept in excellent order. The early part of
every morning (after a husband leaves home)
should be devoted to this scrutiny. In this,

46
THE WIFE.
as in other demands upon the services of your
domestics, you cannot be too firm or too mild.
In all the circumstances of human life,
postponement is attended with numerous
evils; but in that which relates to the econ-
omy of the married state, it is peculiarly hurt-
ful. Nay, more than this, a provident fore-
thought should be exercised from the begin-
ning.
The anticipation of a family would be a
source of much less anxiety if my fair reader
were to prepare, as soon as the circumstance
were known; and how much trouble, confu-
sion, and hurry would be by this means avoid-
I need not enter into the details; for the
lady will best know whom to consult on this
subject as fitted to impart the requisite knowl-
edge; and, further, the time which would
otherwise hang heavily, will be most usefully
and satisfactorily employed. For the most
part, it is advisable not to purchase articles of

THE WIFE.
the description alluded to, but to make them
all at home. Unless at a very high price, the
shops furnish a commodity slightly made, and
of indifferent quality; so that little wear can
result from their use.
I have already hinted at the necessity of
endeavoring to make a husband fond of his
home, by providing him with such comforts
as will prevent unpleasant comparisons with
other families; and I may now add, that the
manner of the young wife has much to do
No man can be deaf to the voice of true
affection; nay, the hearts of some men are
solely accessible by that means. It is related
of one of the kings of Portugal, remarkable for
cruelty and hardness of disposition, that in the
presence of his wife, to whom he was pro-
foundly attached, he was ever remarked for
mildness and tenderness; and that even in
moments of furious excitement he was instant-
ly subdued by the sound of her voice. Per-

THE WIFE.
haps, in ancient or modern times, there has
never been a more bloody-minded tyrant, than
Ali Pacha of Yanina. He was so steeped in
crime, that he said to a person, in confidence,
he could not stop,' for that his former deeds,
like waves of gore, continually pursued him!'
Yet he had one virtue in the midst of
scarcely describable criminality,—he loved
Emineh, the fond and beautiful Emineh.
She had for many years exerted over him
great influence, and had frequently pleaded,
not vainly, with him on the side of mercy.
On occasion, however, of some party disturb-
ances, excited by the ladies of her court, he
became so exasperated at her intercession for
their lives, that he threatened her own; this
blow she never recovered! She died very
shortly afterwards, although Ali was most
assiduous in his attentions to her, and finally,
inconsolable for her loss.
I quote these individual examples, to prove
how abundant is the power of woman, wher

THE WIFE.
49
duly exerted, in controlling the evil disposi-
tions of man; and, therefore, a very moderate
amount of this influence may bring about a
tendency to domestic habits on the part of the
husband. It must be confessed that there is
one alloy, which may render all this advice
nugatory, and all the best directed efforts of a
wife in vain. That alloy is SUSPICION. Un-
fortunately this fatal propensity is generally co-
existent with the most ardent affection ; and
should therefore be the more vigilantly com-
bated. O, what a canker at the root of hap-
piness is this vice! Every look, every action,
of a husband, however innocent, is made a
subject of doubt, and the basis of reproach ;
nay, his very thoughts are anticipated, and
turned into weapons of annoyance! In lieu of
being a help-meet to counsel him on the state
of his affairs, and sooth his anxieties, the wife
becomes a prying fiend who sees only evil,
and has pleasure only in tormenting!
The marvel under such circumstances is,

50
THE WIFE.
that a husband cleaves to home at all. That
he must cease to confer on matters of business
with one who takes narrow, misguided, and
partial views, and only listens to pervert, is
certain ; and that he will eventually prefer his
bottle and the club table to a hearth rife of
irritating associations, seems equally so.
One word more on this subject ; the darker
phase of Suspicion is JEALOUSY,—the most
fearful passion of the human breast! common-
ly unfounded ; unappeased, even by revenge;
in brief, to use the sublime words of Holy
Writ, 'Cruel as the grave !!
A wrong opinion prevails in many circles
that women are underrated, and would do
well to usurp a more masculine tone; but,
assuredly, if there be one thing more repulsive
than another, it is such a process of unsexing.
I remember hearing an account of the Bar-
oness de Drack, a French sportswoman, whose
parallel was to have been found in this coun-

THE WIFE.
51
try a few years ago, which I will give in the
words of one who visited her mansion :
The up-stairs rooms, having been entirely
stripped of their furniture, presented little that
is worth remarking upon; but close to the
chamber in which Madame slept and died
was strongly indicative of her character; this
was a row of saddle-rests, seven in number, on
which her own saddles were kept when not in
use, from which trifling circumstance we may
conceive the zeal and system with which she
pursued every thing connected with the chase.
Also, in her bed-room were rests for six
guns over the fire-place, in the use of which
she was most expert. In fact, almost the last
act of her life was that of killing an owl with
a ball as it sat on the top of her dove-cots.
But there were, I understand, signs of the
prevailing passion in almost every thing this
lady said, did, or thought of. All her dinner
knives were mounted in the horns of stags
slain by herself; and even the whistle with

52
THE WIFE.
which she whistled in her pointers, was, form-
ed out of the tusk of a huge wild boar, also
her own killing—it measured six inches. * *
From what I could glean from the gardener,
I have reason to believe that the number of
hounds kept, varied from thirty to fifty couples.
It was the custom of Madame Drack to go oc-
casionally to a distant part of the country,
when game in her own ran short. Her re-
turn from one of these excursions was thus
described by the gardener. She passed
through St. Omer, with nine wolves' heads
about her carriage, exposed to public view,-
blowing the horn herself, to attract notice.
So rich was her hunting dress—the chas-
seur's belt being ornamented with tassels-
that the soldiers at the gates presented arms
to her, mistaking her for a general officer !
Perhaps a more universal follower of, and
adept in, field-sports than this celebrated,
though very masculine woman, is not to be
found recorded in the annals of any other

THE WIFE.
53
country. Of the total amount of her progress,
I had not the means of being informed; but
she is known to have been at the death of 673
wolves in her time, besides stags and other
inferior quarry; and it is singular that the
last wolf she killed was driven by her hounds
into a village in which there was a ducasse, or
wake as we call it, and she shot him in the
midst of the people.
On the subject of 'Family Hours,' I could
expatiate far beyond the limits of this work,
for those two words comprise, as it were, the
root from which all efficient regulations spring.
As a prime consideration, they must be accor-
dant with the occupations of the husband; and
once established, it should be deemed the in-
terest of either party to infringe their order as
little as possible. In truth there must be a
great want of feeling where this is permitted.
The husband, for instance, defers pressing en-
gagements, to reach home by an appointed
hour for dinner, and finds that he is an hour

54
THE WIFE.
too soon. Or the wife is, day after day, tor-
mented by the nonarrival of the husband until
an hour or two after his time, although he
would have had no difficulty in being punctu-
al! I trust these remarks will be very seri-
ously considered and attended to. As a gen-
eral rule, the hours should be early rather
than otherwise, as being more contributory to
health. Breakfast should be cleared away by
nine at the latest; dinner, if possible, by three;
seven is a good hour for tea; and, after a light
supper, half past ten should be the hour for
retiring to rest. In the morning the domes-
tics should rise at six ; the husband and wife
at seven.
The present tone of society is, I am sorry
to say, very unfavorable to a due sense of re-
ligion. There are but too many who embrace
the extreme points of ostentatious self-righte-
ousness and infidelity, both equally fatal !
The former does incalculable injury by its
antagonism to true religion as revealed to us

The WIFE.
55
in the pure and simple homily of our Savior,
for out of it the poison is drawn wherewith to
barb the arrows of atheistic indifference. Let
the night and morning of every day have its
prayers humbly yielded up in thanksgiving
for the blessings showered down upon us—but
to which we are so wholly unentitled ; and let
every Sabbath day see yourself and husband
regularly at the two services, with the earnest
intention of gleaning spiritual knowledge and
comfort; and not in mockery, with a view to
display fine dressess, or recognise acquaint-
ances !
Alas! these remarks, important though
they be, will by many be slighted, --for this
is an age of fickleness; and there is one char-
acteristic of our times which increases all the
tendencies to this vice. They are distinguish-
ed by what is called a love of excitement. To
be stimulated, excited, is the universal want.
The calmness, sobriety, industry of our fath-
ers, have been succeeded by a feverish rest-

56
lessness. The books that are read are not the
great, standard, immortal works of genius,
which require calm thought, and inspire deep
feeling; but ephemeral works, which are run
through with a railroad rapidity, and which
give a pleasure not unlike that produced by
exhilarating draughts. Business is become a
race, and is hurried on by the excitement of
great risks, and the hope of great profits.
Even religion partakes of the general restless-
ness. In some places, extravagant measures,
which storm the nervous system, and drive the
more sensitive to the borders of insanity, are
resorted to for its promotion. Every where
people go to church to be excited rather than
improved. This thirst for stimulants cannot
be shut up in certain spheres. It spreads
through and characterises the community. It
pervades those classes who can afford but
one stimulus—intoxicating liquor; and among
them the spirit of the age breaks out in in-

57
temperance, vice, loathsome misery, despair,
and crime!
There is a monotonous silence which is apt
to creep over a married pair, and which should
be early obviated. In this respect the wife
has much in her power.
Let us take a review of Real Love in mar-
ried life :- The happiness,' says a modern
author, which it is capable of producing is,
in truth, too great to expect to find it often un-
alloyed. As in nature there is a touch of
beauty, which neither painting nor sculpture
can express, so there is a love beside which
all the love in romance seems frigid. If any
thing can raise our feeble nature to virtue, it
is such an affection wherein the idea of a dis-
severed interest cannot exist, and where mu-
tual tastes stimulate the interests of generous
pursuits, and give variety to daily conversa-
tion. The seductions of ambition or pleasure
lose their danger when there is a being at

58
THE WIFE.
home whose love and admiration shed a radi-
ance over every path. And never yet did
hearts, so united, shrink from sacrifice. Sel-
dom indeed is such happiness realized ; yet it
exists, and might do so oftener than it does.
All the topics of consolation which philosophy
ever discovered or devised to sooth man under
the manifold sorrows and cares of life, are not
worth a blade of rye grass in comparison to
one word of true affection. But we are such
erring creatures, that it is better not to expect
too much; and, as the unseen shafts that are
to level our happiness in the dust are ever fly-
ing in the air, it is perhaps better, on the
whole, that the feelings of the many should
not be too highly strung.'
I may here also introduce some very origi-
nal observations by a writer of note : For
readiness, tact, discrimination, elegance and
address,-for the acquirement of all these good
qualities, there is no school like that of female
society. The lesser virtues, those of complais-

THE WIFE.
59
ance, kindness, and good-will, with many
others allied to them, are hardly to be got
elsewhere. The mind of woman, taken in
the abstract and without reference to individu-
als, when we compare it with that of man, is
much what the graver or penknife is to the
axe. It is a thing of no great force, it achieves
no stupendous work, scarcely anything sublime
was ever compassed by it; but in matters of
minute detail, of ready invention, of nice ad-
justment, of elegant though superficial execu-
tion, it is your only instrument. To hear a
woman talk politics is to be sickened of them
for days, or weeks, or months after, according
to circumstances. This is an unfailing rule.
Then, to listen to her religion, is usually,
though not so generally, to be reminded of
the hasty curiousness of Eve. Their vivacity
it too prompt and sparkling. They fill their
measure with the first outbreak of their froth,
and when we have waited long enough for it
to subside, we look again and behold! all is

60
THE WIFE.
emptiness! Their range then is a circumscrib-
ed one ; but in it they are like fairies within
their ring—creatures of infinite grace and
power. To be much conversant with them
is a thing of as much advantage for the learn-
ed man as the lessons of the fencing-master
would be to the raw, big-boned recruit.
They would not perhaps add materially to
his strength, but, by teaching him its full use,
they would incomparably heighten its utility.'
There is a slight inconsistency in the above,
for that "vivacity' can scarcely be too 'spark-
ling' which produces such admirable results !
Thus, we see Nature has wisely endowed
woman with a much greater share of volu-
bility than the more thoughtful sex; and
therefore the sarcasms as to her talkative-
ness' are both unfounded and ungrateful. I
would however impress upon her the necessity
of acquiring a habit of arranging her thoughts,
of guiding the impulses of mind, and of choos-
ing a simple yet forcible mode of expression.

THE WIFE.
61
This can be best attained by a careful peru-
sal of books which have been judiciously se-
lected.
Biography is, next to history, the finest
division of literature, and its most interesting
attributes are the reflection of character; the
insight which it gives us into minds of no
ordinary stamp; the exhibition which it affords
of the mechanism of the human heart; the
workings of its passions; the flow of its feel-
ings; the bent of its wishes; the objects of its
at the best a mystery ; the main-spring of all
human achievements; the stimulus to action ;
the home of thought. Mind is however a fine
natural study,--for it has swayed the world
from its creation, and will continue to sway
it until light and life be once more merged in
chaos. "The mind of Napoleon, for instance-
the mind of every conqueror, statesman, and
general, before and since the mind of some of
those who possess power and influence even

62
THE WIFE.
now-surely it is interesting to see, and watch,
and study it! to look at the actions which re-
sult from its mirrors of good and ill! And if
mind be interesting as an object of study
in distinguished men, it is certainly not less
worthy of observation, when it manifests itself
in an unusual degree in the female character;
and perhaps no more delightful and instructive
lessons are to be afforded by history, than
those which we draw from the perusal of the
biographies of some of the other sex, who have
become celebrated either by their power, their
beauty, or their virtue. Among those females
who have held regal and imperial authority,
we could mention many who have gained
renown from their energy; their ambition ;
their tyranny; their subtlety, or their pride;
and who form admirable subjects for the pen
of the biographer. Mrs. Jameson, in the year
1831, published her Memoirs of celebrated
Female Sovereigns. She has taken a wide
range of the field before her, and, without con-

THE WIFE.
63
fining herself to any limited period, gives us
the lives of many, both ancient and modern,
of those 'ladies fair,' who have held the states
of Europe at their beck, and tied cities to their
apron-strings. We believe that one reason
position of the then young Princess Victoria as
to the throne of England-looking at the
probability of her ultimate succession to it in
the common course of events. In this place
an anecdote of our fair Queen may not be un-
interesting
Shortly before her Majesty's coronation,
Gen. Wilkinson received a notice to attend
that solemnity, and do suit and service to the
queen. The gallant officer, finding himself
unable to undertake a journey to London,
prayed to be excused, on the score of advanc-
ed age and bodily infirmity, and expressed a
hope that his long services and conduct in the
field would satisfy his sovereign that it was
not through want of loyalty that he sought

64
THE WIFE.
exemption. A few days after this answer
was returned, a letter, addressed 'General Sir
Wm. Wilkinson, K. C. B.' was received by
the gallant veteran, informing him that her
majesty had been graciously pleased to dis-
pense with his attendance at the coronation
on account of his advanced age, and to confer
upon him the honorary distinction of a Knight
Commander of the Bath, in acknowledgment
of his long and valuable services.
On the subject of dress there is a very nice
line to be drawn between that of the matron
and the young unmarried lady ; that is to say,
the dress of the young wife, although quite
as rich in material, should be 'a thought
quieter.
Let me here advert to a vanity which is
often productive of much inconvenience and
distress—I mean the silly passion for show
and expense, by which so many imagine they
establish a right to be considered as persons of
gentility and taste; a certain rank is assumed

THE WIFE.
65
and a certain style of living adopted, but with-
out any just calculation of the probable means
of supporting it. Difficulties ensue; but false
pride forbids retrenchment. Recourse is had
to expedients not very honorable, such as bor-
rowing, without any reasonable prospect of a
future ability to pay, which only staves off the
mischief for a time; for bankruptcy, with dis-
grace, and all the other evils which commonly
attend it, are inevitable.
This is one of the first sacrifices she should
make on the altar of domestic happiness; it
will be attended with much self-satisfaction;
and she may be assured that it will be wel-
comed by the kind regards of her husband.
Her toilette also should be as exact as ever;
for why should she not look as charming now
as before marriage? But it must be allowed
that it were well if she gradually diminished
the quantum of time devoted to 'adorning,' in
anticipation of a period when she will have so
little to spare !

66
THE WIFE.
I must however in this place put in my dis-
claimer as to the propriety of a husband's re-
quiring, at all times, that his wife be as quick
at her toilette as he judges she should be. Men
cannot calculate these matters; and the delay,
as they term it, is but too frequently owing to
their having made a confused arrangement
beforehand, in which no allowance of time was
made for the poor wife whatever! If, under
such circumstances, a husband bite his nails,
fume, fret, stamp, and scold, he enacts a tyr-
anny (I tell him so plainly) which he ought
not to repeat.
If a husband really love his young wife, he
will, during the first year, be careful that time
does not hang heavily on her hands; and he
will, as unostentatiously as possible, provide
pleasant little parties; take her to public
amusements; and accompany her in evening
walks. It is little attentions that produce the
most indelible impressions; the sense of enjoy-
ment is to woman what the sun is to the flow-

THE WIFE
er; if moderately partaken of, it beautifies, it
refreshes, and it improves; if immoderately, it
withers, deteriorates, and destroys. But the
duties of domestic life exercised, as they must
be, in retirement, and calling forth all the
sensibilities of the female, are perhaps as ne-
cessary to the full developement of her charms,
as the shade and shower are to the rose, con-
firming its beauty, and increasing its fragrance.
The behavior of a young wife to the male
tant; and the fewer female acquaintances she
has, the better! The happiness of many a
young married couple has been completely
ruined by the impertinent counsel and gossip-
ing of some female friend. The latter may
perhaps advise measures of harsh disobedience
to a husband, the very first of which creates
discord, and brings about a continuation of
strife and misery!
The following maxims, if adopted, will not
only make the men in love with marriage, but

68
THE WIFE.
cause them to be good husbands :-The first
is, to be good yourselves. To avoid all
thoughts of managing a husband. Never try
to deceive or impose upon his understanding,
nor give him uneasiness, but treat him with
affection, sincerity, and respect. Remember
that husbands at best are only men, subject,
like yourselves, to error and frailty. Be not
too sanguine then before marriage, or promise
yourselves happiness without alloy. Should
you discover anything in your husband's hu-
mor or behavior, not altogether what you ex-
pected or wish, pass it over, smooth your own
temper, and try to amend his attention, cheer-
fulness, and good nature. Never reproach
him with misfortunes, which are the accidents
and infirmities of human life; a burden which
each has engaged to assist the other in support-
ing, and to which both parties are equally ex-
posed; but, instead of murmuring, and reflec-
tions, divide the sorrow between you; make
the best of it, and it will be easier to both. It

THE WIFE.
69
is the innate office of the softer sex to sooth
the troubles of the other. Resolve every
morning to be cheerful that day; and should
anything occur to break your resolution, suffer
it not to put you out of temper with your hus-
band. Dispute not with him, be the occasion
what it may; but much rather deny yourself
the trifling satisfaction of having your own
will, or gaining the better of an argument,
than risk a quarrel, or create a heartburning,
which it is impossible to foresee the end of.
Implicit submission in a man to his wife is
ever disgraceful to both; but implicit submis-
sion in a wife to the will of her husband is
what she promised at the altar;, what the good
will revere her for, and what is, in fact, the
greatest honor she can receive. Be assured,
a woman's power, as well as her happiness,
has no other foundation than her husband's
esteem and love, which it is her interest, by
all possible means, to preserve and increase.
Study therefore his temper, and command your

70
THE WIFE.
own. Enjoy with him his satisfaction, share
and sooth his cares, and, with the utmost assi-
duity, conceal his infirmities. If you value
your own and your husband's ease, let your
expenses and desires be ever within the reach
of his circumstances; for if poverty should fol-
low, you must share the evil. Be very care-
ful never to give him any cause of jealousy.
Let not many days pass without a serious ex-
amination into your conduct as a wife; and if,
on reflection, you find yourself guilty of any
foibles or omissions, the best atonement is to be
more careful in future.
Finally,--The only fountain in the wilderness
of life, where man drinks of water totally unmix-
ed with bitterness, is that which gushes for him
in the calm and shady recess of domestic life.
Pleasure may heat the heart with artificial ex-
citement, ambition may delude it with its gold-
en dreams, war may eradicate its fine fibres
and diminish its sensitiveness, but it is only
domestic love that can render it truly happy.

THE MOTHER
If there be one aspect which renders the
name of woman dearer to us, and more hal-
lowed than another, it is that under which we
view her as a MOTHER! At this word, all
the best affections are brought into play, all
the tenderest impulses are developed ; and he
who is worthy of the name of Man, will deem
no sacrifice too great to promote the quietude,
assuage the suffering, and assure the hap-
piness of the wife of his bosom when so situ-
ated.
To her the maternal period as it approaches
is necessarily rife of much anxiety ; for, al-
though it is fraught with hopes and wishes of
the most blissful description, it is nevertheless
allied to a precarious result. Boding and

72
THE MOTHER.
gloomy apprehensions however do no good,
mitigate no evil, and may do infinite harm.
Cheerfulness is that state of mind which
should be encouraged by the lady herself, and
all around her; and the best basis for this de-
sirable feeling is that confidence in a protec-
tion, not of this world, which the consolations
of religion always impart!
The intense love of offspring also, even by
anticipation, exerts a surprising power on the
female mind; and, combined with the atten-
tions of those around her, the affectionate assi-
duities of her husband, and the mutuality of
happiness thence arising, must tend to support
the young mother under the severest trials.
Fortitude may also be much strengthened
by a reference to the many anecdotes of
English-women, who, in seasons of danger
and distress, have exhibited an unconquerable
firmness of mind. Fear and anxiety have, in
truth, been much augmented by an erroneous
view of the subject; for the period of approach-

THE MOTHER.
73
ing maternity is not to be considered as indicat-
ing disease, but is, on the contrary, a state of
development essential to the health of the fe-
male.
We must not however blind ourselves to
the fact, that the general health is liable to be
disturbed by reason of the increased irritability
of fibre; and therefore, at such times, the meals
must be regular; exposure to cold winds or
night air must be avoided. All causes of un-
due excitement also should be carefully pre-
vented. The longings and aversions in this
state are frequent and sometimes unaccount-
able, and they may usually be gratified with
safety; at the same time I do think that young
married ladies are too fond of indulging, in
lieu of controlling, this morbid symptom.
That sensation of fluttering and faintness
which comes on about the fifth month at ir-
regular occasions, is merely indicative of what
is termed quickening,' and is to be consider-

74
THE MOTHER
ed as the middle period, leaving about FOUR
MONTHS AND TWELVE DAYS to elapse ere its
completion. Nevertheless, as quickening does
not always become manifest, another and in-
derived by noting the exact time at which the
monthly functions ceased, and estimating from
that occurrence a period of NINE MONTHS AND
TEN DAYS.
The importance of these calculations must
be obvious, for upon their exactness depends a
great economy of expense, and such a provis-
ion for the wants of approaching maternity as
must obviate serious inconvenience, or perhaps
a worse mischance.
In this state the circulation is commonly
impeded, and the determination of blood to
particular parts occasions palpitation and many
* An indubitable condition of being enceinte is the circum-
stance of the bosom becoming enlarged, and the veins show-
ing themselves distinctly through the skin. The aureole of
the nipple, as an additional sign, becomes gradually dark-
ened.

THE MOTHER.
unpleasant sensations, more particularly if
there be strong mental excitement, or any
* excess of bodily exertion.
The duration of sleep, at this time, ought to
be such as nature asks; and, in many cases,
more is now required.*
The pains in the limbs, and tooth-ache,
which sometimes so annoy during congestion,
may be attributed to a greater inward resolu-
tion of the humors, and a diminished perspira-
tion. Unless, therefore, means be taken to
regulate the diet and general habits, anxiety
and lowness of spirits will very probably inter-
vene, and be as injurious to the mother as to
the infant. With respect to diet, it will be
self-evident that the quantity of food taken
should be moderate, since, by the change in
physical conformation, the stomach is neces-
sarily contracted and forced upwards. The
* Excess of slumber is, of course, to be remedied, particu-
larly in the phlegmatic, by their being, in every gentle way,
roused to exertion.

76
THE MOTHER.
eating of salted meat is too common in this
country; it is at all times prejudicial, but espe-
cially so now. It creates an acridity of the
humors; and, by disturbing digestion, brings
on irregularity of circulation and its attendant
evils. The usual domestic viands may be
eaten, if tender and not over-cooked; and any
vegetable which does not directly disagree.
Poultry forms a very delicate and desirable
food, and being for the most part preferred,
should be procured as frequently as possible.
All violent exercise, dancing, and any occu-
pation which requires stooping, must be avoid-
ed. I have already warned against excess of
mental emotion, and I would further have it
understood, that even those of a pleasurable
kind ought not to be over-indulged. To those
who are more than usually predisposed to be
irritable, a state of the utmost quiescence
should be resorted to; or a weak and perpetu-
ally ailing offspring may be the consequent
misfortune. So great are the sympathies be-

THE MOTHER.
77
tween the mother and child, that I have much
faith in the alleged consequences of panic as
affecting the latter by marks or deformities;
and I would urge this as an additional reason
for carefully warding off from the former (the
mother) all such accidents.
With respect to dress, too great precaution
cannot be taken that the mother be clothed in
loose drapery, but withal warmly; the feet in
a particular manner being attended to; for a
cold is baneful in the extreme, bringing with
it convulsion, spasm, and prematurity of labor.
Suspensory bandages are sometimes very ne-
cessary, if the supply of milk to the breast be
very abundant, and the abdomen may also
demand similar support. The breasts and
nipples should also be prepared, particularly
towards the last, for the office of suckling; but
both this, and taking of medicine, or bleeding,
should be directed by a medical attendant.
As the time of accouchement approaches,
an air of gloomy apprehension is sometiines to

78
THE MOTHER.
be remarked in the countenance, and of course
all practical means should be taken to dispel
this feeling. All should now be prepared in
the lying-in room; and only such admitted as
are of quiet habits and positively useful. The
gossiping should be banished equally now and
afterwards.
For the event itself, a fit and respectable
medical attendant should always be provided ;
for the accoucheuse can neither have the skill,
the strength, nor the forethought, requisite.
As a general rule, the lady should not leave
her couch for ten days or more after the event.
A mother should always suckle her child, un-
less her constitutional feebleness be adverse to
it; for the confinement is always best got over
when this is put in force. A cheerful and
amiable state of mind is quite as important
now as prior to lying-in, or the child may in-
hale the cause of death through the medium
of violent passions. Let the room of the in-
valid have plenty of air admitted, still keeping

THE MOTHER.
79
up a sufficient warmth; and on no account
should it be crowded with visiters at any time.
Eight or nine months is the period usually
allotted before weaning the infant.
It is hardly necessary to observe that the
child should be kept exquisitely clean by the
use of lukewarm water daily. In case a wet-
nurse be employed, she should be directed to
keep the child's lips carefully wiped after it
has been placed to the breast—as such persons
are apt to be very careless on this score.
There is so much danger attendant on
bringing up a child independently of the
breast, that I do not like to say more, than
that the medical attendant should be specially
consulted before this be determined on.
The act of teething on the part of a child
brings with it (say at the age of eight or nine
months) various symptoms which are too fre-
quently imagined to indicate disease; where-
as the child is only undergoing a natural
change. The too great use of opiates should

THE MOTHER.
be scrupulously avoided at this time, as well
as substances of a hard texture which may
injure the gums. The diseases, properly
speaking, of infants, are not numerous; but
convulsions, to which they are subjected by
irregularity of temperature, or the acidity of
the mother's milk, or other causes, are some-
times fatal. The cause therefore should be
carefully removed under the direction of the
medical attendant; and to his consideration
should be referred all that concerns any pre-
disposition to water in the head, or indication
of croup, hooping cough, or measles.
Long before a child begins to what is tech-
nically called 'take notice, the process of edu-
cation should begin, -not by any forced sys-
tem of determined rule, but by watching na-
ture, and guiding it; and when the imitative
powers begin to develop themselves, great
care should be taken that the example deviate
as little as possible into that which, by being
caught up, would be prejudicial. A correct.

THE MOTHER.
81
miode of speaking should be adhered to, as bad
habits, though very easily acquired, are not
only difficult of removal, but too frequently
irremediable.
As children grow up in strength and in
years, the anxiety for their preservation in
health must be great; and there are two gen-
eral rules which should pilot the mother on all
occasions— Cleanliness' and 'Exercise. I
deem it essential to warn her against every
thing in the shape of quackery ; at least, iſ
she would not have to answer for that which
would be a source of lasting remorse!
Nor, in her affectionate solicitude for her
offspring, let the father be (as is too often the
case !) slighted as to his comforts, and forgot-
ten!
Cruelty and ingratitude are terms hardly
strong enough to exemplify so wretched a re-
turn for kindness, sympathy, and laborious
daily exertion to provide the means of comfort
and independence. When once this tendency

82
THE MOTHER
is discovered, the husband, in many cases, be-
comes necessarily indifferent, and the step
thence to dislike, is, alas, sufficiently rapid !
The sequences of drunken habits and brutali-
ty of demeanor are not to be wondered at.
A wife cannot give a greater proof of her
good management than by never permitting
her children to come into the presence of her
husband unless they be clean and tidy; and
therefore the parlor ought never to be made a
nursery!
In the domestic management of her house-
hold the mother of a family has a great and
increasing care, and the due regulation of all
her expenses is imperatively called for, within
the limit which her husband's income pre-
scribes. She must ascertain the most eco-
nomical means of marketing, and should pur-
chase all household commodities with ready
money, if possible, taking exceeding care that
she has the advantage of cash payments, -as

THE MOTHER.
83
tradesmen are not always honest enough to
make the distinction between that and credit.
But to descant properly on this subject
would require a volume, and therefore partial
and insufficient statements can only conduce
to erroneous views. Books also have much
less to do with the series of duties exacted by
a household, than practice, observation, and
consultation with the experienced.
Mrs. Child's remarks on defective moral
rearing, are worthy of the attention of all
parents :
There is no subjeet connected with educa-
tion which has so important a bearing on hu-
man happiness, as the views young people
are taught to entertain with regard to matri-
monial connexions. The dreams of silly ro-
mance, half vanity, and half passion, on the
one hand, and selfish calculation on the other,
leave but small remains of just thinking and
right feeling on the subject. The greatest
and most prevailing error in education, con.

84
THE MOTHER.
sists in making lovers a subject of such en-
grossing and disproportionate interest in the
minds of young girls. As soon as they can
walk alone, they are called 'little sweetheart,
and little wife;' as they grow older, the
boyish liking of a neighbor or schoolmate be-
comes a favorite jest; they often hear it said
how lucky such and such people are, because
they married off all their family so young;
and when a pretty, attractive girl is mention-
ed, they are in the habit of hearing it observed
- She will be married young. She is too
handsome and too interesting to live single
long.'
I have frequently said that such accidental
remarks do in fact educate children into habits
more than direct maxims; and this applies with
peculiar force to the subject of matrimony.
Observations of this kind give young girls the
idea that there is something degrading in not
being married young'; or, at least, in not hav-
ing had offers of marriage. This induces a

THE MOTHER.
85
silly pride and a restless vanity, which too
often end in ill-assorted connexions. I had a
sweet young friend, with a warm and gener-
ous heart, but a giddy, romantic brain. Her
mother was weak-minded and indulgent, and
had herself been taught, in early life, to con-
sider it the chief end and aim of existence to
get married. She often reminded her daugh-
ters, that she was but sixteen when she was
married, and had then refused two or three
lovers. Of course, when my charming, senti-
mental little friend was sixteen, she began to
feel uneasy under a sense of disgrace; her
early as her mother had one; and this feeling
was a good deal strengthened by the engage-
ments of two or three young companions. It
unluckily happened that a dashing, worthless
time. A flirtation began, which soon ended
in an offer of his hand. He said he had a
good business, and she saw that he wore a

86
THE MOTHER.
handsome coat, and rode a superb horse; and,
more than all, she thought what a triumph it
would be to be engaged at sixteen. She mar-
ried him. It was soon discovered that he was
careless, dissipated, and very poor. In no re-
spect whatever had he sympathy with my
sensitive, refined, but ill-educated friend. She
discovered this too late, and would have dis-
the subject of matrimony. A wretched life
might have been spared, if her mother had left
her heart to develop itself naturally, under the
influences of true affection, as the lily opens its
petals to the sunshine. Her marriage was
called a love-match ; and as such was held up
by ambitious parents as a salutary warning.
But there never was a greater misnomer. She
had not a particle of love for the man. She
married him because he happened to be the
first that offered, and because she felt ashamed
not to be affianced as early as her companions.
Marriage, under any circumstances, has

THE MOTHER.
87
many cares, trials, sufferings, and even perils,
-but, notwithstanding, its statistics prove that
it is favorable to longevity. It has been as-
certained that, at the age of sixty, there are
but 22 unmarried men alive for 58 married ; at
seventy, 11 bachelors for 37 married men ; and
at eighty, for three bachelors who may chance
to be alive there are nine Benedicts. Very
nearly the proportion holds good in the female
sex, of whom, while 72 who have been mar-
ried attain the age of forty-five, only 52 un-
married reach the same term of life.
A word or two to parents may not be inapt
in this place. Paley remarks-'A good pa-
rent's first care is to be virtuous himself; his
second, to make his virtues as easy and en-
gaging to those about him as they will admit.
Virtue itself offends when coupled with forbid-
ding manners; and some virtues may be urged
to such excess, or brought forward so unsea-
sonably, as to discourage and repel those who
observe and who are acted upon by them, in-

88
THE MOTHER.
stead of exciting an inclination to imitate and
adopt them. Young minds are particularly
liable to these unfortunate impressions. For
instance, if a father's economy degenerate into
a minute and teasing parsimony, it is odds but
that the son, who has suffered under it, sets
out a sworn enemy to all rules of order and
frugality. If a father's piety be morose, rig-
orous, and tinged with melancholy, perpetual-
ly breaking in upon the recreation of his fam-
ily, and surfeiting them with the language of
religion on all occasions, there is danger lest
the son carry from home with him a settled
prejudice against seriousness and religion, as
inconsistent with every plan of a pleasurable
life; and turns out, when he mixes with the
world, a character of levity or dissoluteness.?
Perhaps one great cause of the difference of
longevity in single and in married life, is the
circumstance of that tenderness of friendship
which, we will hope, does in most cases exist

THE MOTHER.
89
not be made the subject of precept,-it must
be left to grow up of itself under the general
culture of reason and religion. It is one of
the fairest productions of the human soil,—the
cordial of life, the lenitive of our sorrows, and
the multiplier of our joys; the source, equally,
of animation and of repose! He who is desti-
tute of this blessing, amidst the greatest crowd
and pressure of society is doomed to solitude;
and however surrounded with flatterers and
admirers, however armed with power, and rich
in the endowments of nature and of fortune,
has no resting place. The most elevated sta-
tion in life affords no exemption from those
agitations and inquietudes which can only be
laid to rest upon the bosom of a friend. The
sympathies even of virtuous minds, when not
warmed by the breath of friendship, are too
faint and cold to satisfy the social cravings of
nature; their compassion is too much dissipat-
ed by the multiplicity of its objects and the

90
THE MOTHER.
varieties of distress to suffer it to flow long in
one channel; while the sentiments of congrat-
ulation are still more slight' and superficial.
A transient tear of pity, or a smile of compla-
cency equally transient, is all we can usually
bestow on the scenes of happiness or of misery
which we meet with in the paths of life; but
man naturally seeks for a closer union, or more
permanent conjunction of interest, a more in-
tense reciprocation of feeling; he finds the
want of one with whom he can intrust the
secrets of his heart, and relieve himself by im-
parting the interior joys and sorrows, with
which every breast is fraught. He seeks, in
short, another sell, a kindred spirit, whose in-
terest in his welfare bears some proportion to
his own, with whom he may Iessen his cares
by sympathy, and multiply his pleasures by
participation
No writers that I am acquainted with have
more felicitously traced this sentiment than
Mrs. Chapone and Lady Mary Wortley Mon-

THE MOTHER.
91
tagu, who found upon it, in its maturity, the
greatest amount of happiness here, and the
Alas! in proportion to the strength of our love
to anything human, is the depth of our grief
in bereavement! In this place I cannot re-
frain quoting the remarks of one of the great-
est writers this country ever produced, when
deprived of his dearest companion in his so-
journ of sorrow.
The following is a portion of Sir Walter
Scott's journal, dated Abbotsford, May 16, in
at nine in the morning-after being very ill
for two days--easy at last. I arrived here
late last night. Anne is worn out, and has
had hysterics, which returned on my arrival.
Her broken accents were like those of a child,
the language as well as the tones broken, but
in the most gentle tone of submission. Poor
mamma-never return again-gone for ever
a better place. Then, when she came to

92
THE MOTHER.
herself, she spoke with sense, freedom, and
strength of mind, till her weakness returned.
It would have been inexpressibly moving to
me as a stranger--what was it then to the
father and the husband! For myself, I scarce
know how I feel, sometimes as firm as the Bass
Rock, sometimes as weak as the water that
breaks on it. I am as alert at thinking and
deciding as I ever was in my life. Yet, when
I contrast what this place now is, with what it
has been not long since, I think my heart will
break. Lonely, aged, deprived of my family
-all but poor Anne; an impoverished, an
embarrassed man, deprived of the sharer of my
thoughts and counsels, who could always talk
down my sense of the calamitous apprehen-
sions which break the heart that must bear
them alone. Even her foibles were of service
to me, by giving me things to think of beyond
my weary self-reflections.
I have seen her. The figure I beheld is,
and is not, my Charlotte--my thirty years'

THE MOTHER.
93
companion. There is the same symmetry of
form, though those limbs are rigid which were
once so gracefully elastic. * * * Anne thinks
her little changed, because the latest idea she
had formed of her mother, is as she appeared
under circumstances of extreme pain. Mine
go back to a period of comparative ease. If I
write long in this way, I shall write down my
resolution, which I should rather write up, if
I could. I wonder how I shall do with the
large portion of thoughts which were hers for
thirty years!
This comes evidently from the heart, and
will, therefore, not vainly appeal to the best
sympathies of others; and it naturally brings
my subject to a conclusion, for it points to that
world, where the mournful and the weary find
rest ; and where those who have faithfully per-
formed the duties incumbent on them, shall
gather in an abundant harvest of joyfulness
that knows not change, and shall never be
subject to interruption !


THE NURSERY.
1. NURSES.
The mother, particularly if she be young,
as apt to be altogether controlled by the nurse;
and therefore it is advisable to place her on
her guard against the foolish and hurtful prac.
tices and prejudices of such persons. With
some the absurd practice prevails of bathing
the infant in cold water at its birth, in lieu of
using that element in a lukewarm state. Se-
condly, they are obstinately addicted to tight-
swathing, and to attempting by pressure a
change in the formation of the head-both of
them incomparable absurdities! Another and
very common proceeding, and not less hurtful,
is that of drawing out the female infant's nip-
ple, and compressing it-heaven knows why!

96
THE NURSERY.
The nurse should NEVER be permitted to at-
tempt the remedy of fancied defects, or of dis-
ease. Let her watch over the child, and com-
municate with the medical attendant. Let
her be attentive to keep the invalid chamber
warm, well ventilated, and somewhat dimly
lighted
Let her attend to seeing that abundance of
clean linen, &c. be always aired ready; that
lukewarm water be freely used ; and that the
infant's mouth and lips be kept very clean;
and in so doing she will not overstep her voca-
tion, and will find abundance of employment.
II. EXERCISE OF INFANTS.
A GREAT medical authority observes--
Exercise is not essential to the welfare of
infants. During the first two months they
should merely be carried from place to place
in the horizontal position, and be neither shak-

THE NURSERY.
97
en nor allowed to sit upright. A mother re-
ported a few days ago, that her infant's illness,
a bowel complaint of some danger, immediate-
ly followed a fright which it received from
being suddenly tossed up in the air—a nurse's
habit. This child is nearly three years old,
and the mother stated, that it had always been
afraid of falling, so that she had not exercised
it so violently as she had done her other chil-
dren, but that a friend took the infant, and
unwarily threw it up twice as described above;
it instantly changed color, became very pale,
and immediately afterwards its complaint be-
gan. Under all circumstances, perhaps the
best exercise which an infant can take is that
which nature dictates when the child is allow-
ed to lie upon the ground, or on a mattress,
with as few clothes on as possible. The bones
of the back are not calculated to bear a con-
siderable weight; and it will be recollected
that the back of an infant always bends when
it is placed upright, and its head falls down

98
THE NURSERY.
on its chest or back, just as the child is leaned
forward or in the opposite direction. The
head is the heaviest part of the body, and it
has not the power of keeping itself erect, inde-
pendent of the action of the muscles. Muscles
are fixed to bones, and those which support
the head are principally attached to the back-
bone; and as the back-bone during infancy is
almost entirely formed of cartilage or gristle,
it would be unable to afford the necessary sup-
port to those muscles when in action. It is
perhaps for this reason that the muscles them-
selves have not yet required the power of act-
ing with energy sufficient to support the head,
as if to prevent the child from making such
exertions as would tend to injure the back-bone
in its still soft state.
"If a child be allowed to take exercise in its
own way, it will not attempt to raise its head
until the parts have acquired strength enough
to support the necessary exertion ; but after
that time it will turn itself over on the carpet,

THE NURSERY.
99
and gradually learn to raise itself into the up-
right position. In reference to this point of
nursing infants, a medical friend of great ob-
servation has suggested a very important ar-
gument in favor of the plan which is here
recommended. He says, in allusion to the
prominent breast-bone and narrow chest which
are so frequently seen in weakly children, that
this species of deformity is produced by the
erroneous mode of nursing which has been
pointed out; and he refers for his proof to the
fact, that the impressions of the nurses' thumbs
may be found on the ribs of such infants, as
may be seen by any one who will take up a
child in the usual way of embracing its chest
with his hands; for he says, that the thumbs
will naturally fall into the artificial hollows,
made by previous pressure in the ribs on each
side the breast-bone. If this observation be
verified, it will form an unanswerable argu-
ment for nursing infants differently.
The only artificial exercise which an in-

100
THE NURSERY.
fant can take with advantage, is that of being
well rubbed. This species of exercise however
is very advantageous, and it should be repeat-
ed at least two or three times in the day.
Either the hand or a flesh-brush may be used,
and it should be continued for several minutes
at each time of rubbing. Infants like to have
their skins rubbed before a fire, and all writers
on the management of children have agreed
in recommending frequent and sedulous fric-
tion, as being highly conducive to the health
of children.
III. RESPIRATION OF INFANTS.
The respiration of infants is immensely im-
portant, and cannot be too vigilantly attended
to. The air breathed by them should be fresh
and pure. Let nurseries therefore be spacious,
clean, and thoroughly ventilated. Not only
the complexion, but the blood itself, the source

THE NURSERY.
101
of complexion, loses much of its florid hue, in
miners, and others confined in dungeons, and
other persons long secluded from light and air.
During suitable weather, infants should pass
several hours daily in the open air. The
constant housing of adults is bad; that of
infants far worse, because their delicacy and
sensitiveness are greater. Respiration acts
primitively on the lungs; and those organs
are invigorated and otherwise benefited, by
the laughing, shouting, crowing, and occa-
sional crying of children. However unplea-
sant the latter sound may be, it is a natural
one. And nature is, in all things, our best
guide; though we must not abuse her, nor
suffer her to be abused, by any sort of excess.

102
THE NURSERY.
IV. TWELVE GOLDEN RULES:
OR, SUITABLE HINTS FROM MOTHERS TO THEIR SERVANTS
IN THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN.
nor unnecessarily thwart them.
Rule 2. If they wish to have anything
which is not proper for them, on no account
give it to them, but put it out of their sight.
Rule 3. Never gratify children by beating, or
pretending to punish anything, living or dead,
which may have accidentally hurt or offended
them; it will encourage a spirit of revenge.
Rule 4. Never excite little jealousies among
children; but always endeavor to make them
a source of pleasure to each other; this will
promote brotherly harmony and love.
Rule 5. Some persons are apt, in order to
induce children to take their food, to say
Come, my dear, make haste, or brother (or
sister) shall have it; no, no, brother, you shall
not have it, indeed!' Now, every expression
of this kind must be avoided ; for it will infal-

THE NURSERY.
103
ibly create selfishness and greediness. A di-
rectly opposite conduct must be enforced ; and
children must be taught, as much as possible,
to find their chief happiness in promoting the
pleasure of their brothers and sisters,—even if
by the sacrifice of their own.
| Rule 6. If a reward have been prepared
for a child, in expectation of its behaving well,
and this expectation have not been realised,
never seek to increase the pain (necessarily
felt in not receiving the reward) by bestowing
it on a brother or sister; such conduct is cal-
culated to excite anger and envy in the breast
of the naughty child; and will most probably
induce the good one to rejoice in the other's
bad conduct.
Rule 7. On no account deceive children,
either by word or deed.
Rule 8. If to induce children to comply
with your wishes, they have been promised to
have something given to, or done for them,
let the promise be always strictly fulfilled.

104
THE NURSERY.
This injunction must, of course, make you
cautious with regard to promises.
Rule 9. Never suffer children to speak in-
correctly, either in earnest or in play. If, on
any occasion, they deviate in the slightest de-
gree from the truth, always set them right;
and let the plain simple truth be always spok-
en to, and required of, them.
Rule 10. Never mention anything in their
presence, likely, in the smallest degree, to
frighten them.
Rule 11. Never commend anything, either
in their persons or dress; except the appear-
ance of good humor in the one, and of clean-
liness and neatness in the other; praise of the
first will excite personal vanity; and of the
second, will induce them to set an undue value
upon things in themselves) of little importance.
Rule 12. Carefully avoid doing anything
before, or saying anything to, them, which
can possibly weaken their love and respect to-
wards their parents.

GUIDE
то
KNITTING AND TAMBOUR.

CONTENTS.
''
Observations and Practical Instructions on Knitting . 107
Directions for all kinds of Knitting Work - -
109
Comforter.-Lamb's-Wool Muffatee - - - - - - - 109
Double Knitting.-Gentleman's Comforter - - - - 110
Ribbed Border.-Spotted Shawls - - - ----· 111
Working Spotted Purse.-First-Size Infant's Socks - 112
German Purse.-For Purse Working -
113
Save-All Bag.-Kettle Holder - -
114
Night Stocking.–French Knitted Bag.
115
Moss-Stitch.-Hood for an Infant - -
- - 116
Knee Caps in Lamb's-Wool.-Driving Muffatees -
- - 117
Imitation Coral.-Stocking - -
- - 118
Fancy Muffatees.--Herringbone Purse - - - - - 120
Quilt, Twisted Column - - - - - - - - - - 121
Striped Quilt.- Honeycomb Bag - ... - 122
Carriage Mat, or Carpet.—Quilt in Stripes - - - 123
Fringe.-Square for a Quilt ----- - - 124
Gentleman's Purse - - - - - - - - - - - - 125
A Thick Bag.–Superior Night Stocking - - - - - 126
Fringe - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- 127
Shawl with Colored Border .
Double Knitted Shawl.-Fringe of Lamb's-Wool - .
Infant's Socks, fine worsted - - - - - ---
Infant's Shoe - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 131
Basket-Stitch.-Small Cap.-Large Cap with two Colors 132
Plain Cap for an Infant • - - - ---- - - 133
Open Tambour Stitch 134_Short Purse. Open Purse 135
-Long Purse. French Tambour 136–Single Tambour.
Tambour Bag 137-Double Crotchet. Bead Chain 138
Knitting Terms Explained - -..-..-.- 140
'
Tiri

107
OBSERVATIONS ON KNITTING.
Dogo
In attempting to trace the origin of Knit-
ting, a difficulty arises; some have averred,
that the first specimens were derived from
Spain; others, that it is of Eastern origin, as
indeed were all the arts introduced by the
Saracen invaders of that country. In the
time of Henry VIII. knitted silk hose were
worn by his majesty; and we find, in the tomes
of Howel, that Mistress Montague, silk-wo-
man to queen Elizabeth, did present to her
majestie a pair of black knitted silk hose,' and
further that the maids of honor were not per-
mitted articles of like fabric, they being deem-
ed fit only for the exclusive uses of royalty.
Thus we see that knitting was in no little es-
timation at a period not very remote.
PRACTICAL INSTRUCTIONS ON KNITTING.
Twist the material over the little finger of
the right hand, and pass it over the fore-finger.
Take the end in the left hand, wrap it on the
little finger and bring it over the thumb and

108
KNITTING.
round the two fore-fingers. This will form a
loop; then bring the needle under the lower
thread and over the fore-finger, passing the
thread which is over the fore-finger of the
right hand under the needle, which must be
brought down through the loop. The thread
in the left hand is now drawn tight, and the
operation is completed. Repeat the process as
frequently as there are stitches cast on. Be
careful when a back stitch or stitches occur on
a front row, that you always bring the thread
forward in the front; when the back stitch or
stitches are completed, pass the thread back
to its place.
The same when a plain stitch occurs on a
back row; pass the thread to the back, and
work; then bring it forward to its place.
Needles of various sizes are used, and they
are pointed at both ends for Turkish Knitting.
Wood or Ivory pins are used for knitting a
Brioche. Knitting sheaths for the waist are
quite exploded.

KNITTING.
CLEAR DIRECTIONS FOR ALL KINDS OF
WORK IN FASHIONABLE USE.
COMFORTER.
Cast on .50 stitches; knit 44 turns plain
knitting, decrease 1 stitch in 5 until you have
only 40 in the row; kõit 6 turns, then decrease
again 10 stitches in the row; knit 18 turns,
increase 10 stitches in the row; knit 6 turns,
increase 10 stitches in the row; knit 44 turns
and then cast off.
LAMB'S-WOOL MUFFATEES.
Use 4 needles, No. 14. Cast on each of 3
needles 18 or 24 stitches, according to the size
required, and with the 4th needle knit 3 and
rib 3 stitches alternately, until your muffatee
is long enough.

110
KNITTING.
DOUBLE KNITTING.
Cast on any even number of stitches; bring
the thread forward, slip a stitch, pass the
thread back, knit a stitch putting the thread
twice round the needle. This repeated forms
the pattern. In the next row you will find
you take off the knitted stitch. If you prefer
beginning with a knitted stitch, pass the
thread but once round the needle in every first
stitch, and a finer edge will be the result.
A GENTLEMAN'S COMFORTER. DOUBLE KNITTING.
Use coarse steel needles ; it will require 5 skeins of fine
knitting yarn.
Cast on 72 stitches; knit the first stitch put-
ting the yarn only once round your needle,
bring the yarn forward, skip a stitch, pass the
yarn back again, knit a stitch, passing the
yarn twice round the needle; continue knitting
in double knitting with the yarn twice round
the needle until the comforter is long enough.
In the last row, before you cast off, the yarn

KNITTING.
111
should be passed round the needle only once.
Small comforters to cover the chest in riding
are made in the same way.
RIBBED BORDER.
44 stitches to be cast on; rib a row; knit 6
stitches, rib until 6 are left, which knit; rib 6
at each side, knit the stitches between; knit a
plain row, and commence again.
SPOTTED SHAWLS.
Commence with 4 stitches; knit 1 plain row
adding a stitch by bringing the wool forward,
knit a stitch, bring the wool forward, slip a
stitch, knit two stitches, pass the slipped stitch
over the knitted ones. Purl the next row
with the second color, add a stitch and begin
again. You change the color every two
rows. When 2 stitches are left at the end of
the row, bring the wool forward and knit them,
thus increasing a stitch. Finish the shawl by
sewing on a fringe worked as described in
page 127.

112
KNITTING.
WORKING SPOTTED PURSE.
Cast on 69 stitches; take off the 1st stitch,
bring the silk forward, slip a stitch, knit 2, pass
the slipped stitch over the two last; repeat
this to the end of the row. The back rows
are ribbed; this is very effective, in two colors,
making a change every two rows.
FIRST-SIZE INFANT'S socks.
Work with two bone needles ; cast on
24 stitches; knit two plain rows, add one
stitch; knit two more rows, and add another
stitch, which forms the heel ; continue knitting
until 10 ridges are formed; cast off 14 stitches,
commencing where you added on for the heel;
knit 6 more ridges, add on 14 stitches, and
make this side correspond with the other, de-
creasing for the heel. Pick up the 14 loops
on each side and the 6 in the middle, and put
them all on 1 needle ; knít a plain row, then a
row of holes for the ribbon to pass through,
which is done as follows:--begin with the

KNITTING.
113
lamb's-wool forward, slip a stitch, knit the
next, and pass the slipped stitch over the knit-
ted one; after this row is complete, knit 8
ridges. German lamb's-wool, wound double, is
preferable for making these socks, as it washes
the best.
GERMAN PURSE.
Cast on 96 stitches. Slip the 1st, knit the
2d, then pass the 1st stitch over the 2d; bring
the silk forward, and knit the next; bring the
silk forward again, and seam the forth. To
be worked on 4 needles, or on two and sewed
up,
FOR PURSE WORKING.
Cast on 70 stitches; take off the 1st stitch;
pass the silk forward, and knit 2 stitches to-
gether ; continue the same to end of row.
Every row in this pattern is the same; when
the purse is sufficiently wide, cast off, and with
a needle and some silk of the color of the purse,
sew it up, leaving in the middle a slite

114
KNITITNG.
SAVE-ALL BAG.
Use 4 coarse needles. Cast on 40 stitches
on each of 3 needles; knit 1 plain round; then
knit 1 stitch ; bring the silk forward, knit a
stitch, thus forming a loop-stitch in addition to
the original number; knit a stitch, bring the
silk forward, and continue as before for the
whole round; then round, knit a stitch, bring
the silk forward, knit 2 stitches (the loop and one
next it) together; knit a stitch, bring the silk
forward, and knit 2 together, until the bag is
of sufficient size. A clasp, and a tassel at the
bottom, are suitable. This bag may be made
with odds and ends of netting silk, or all of
one color if preferred.
KETTLE HOLDER.
36 stitches to be cast on with red yarn,
knit a row, then alternately knit 6 stitches
with red and 6 with blue. To make the
stitches stand up in a round when finished,
when you change the color, pull the yarn

KNITTING
115
rather tight at the back of the other color in
the next row; every time you change the col-
or of the yarn, bring that you have done with
forward, and pass the other back. When you
can count 4 ridges of blue on the right side,
make the red stitches to come over the blue
and the blue ones over the red; the side
squares should be kept fiat ; when sufficiently
large, knit a red row, cast off, and line it.
NIGHT STOCKING.
You require 4 needles. On large pins exe-
cute 54 stitches, turning every alternate stitch,
and towards the end gradually lessening.
FRENCH KNITTED BAG.
Use two needles. Set up 96 stitches, and
knit 2 plain rows merely for a foundation ; be-
gin the 3d row by putting the cotton twice
round the needle reversed; then slip a stitch,
knit the next, and turn the slipped stitch over
the knitted one. The same repeated forms
the figure. 156 rows will make it long enough.

116
KNITTING.
MOSS STITCH.
A pretty border, and may be worked to any
width. Take off the 1st stitch, pass the cot-
ton forward, riba stitch, pass the cotton
back and knit one plain, pass it forward, rib a
stitch, &c. to the end of the row. Every row
is alike. The same stitches you knit plain
and rib in one row, you repeat in the next.
Very pretty squares are executed thus.
HOOD FOR AN INFANT.
Use bone needles, No. 11 or 12, and com-
mence with 108 stitches, in middle-size lamb’s-
wool; knit 10 stitches at the commencement,
and 10 at the end of each row; turn the other
part every 8 stitches, so that it lay in ribs;
knit 18 rows; then turn the ribs across the
others, to set round the face; knit 12 ribs,
8 rows in each, and cast off; to form the cape
to the hood, put 25 stitches on the needle, and
take up the stitches at each end of the hood,
previous to joining it up the back; add 25

KNITTING.
117
stitches at the end of your row, to match those
at the beginning. Work the cape a quarter
of a yard deep; the hood to be trimmed round
the face with a quilling of lace or net.
KNEE CAPS IN LAMB'S-WOOL.
Use very coarse needles. Commence with
36 stitches ; knit 8 or 12 rows, according to the
size wished for; knit 15 stitches, make a stitch,
knit 6, make a stitch, knit the rest. Add 2
in the same manner every other row until you
have 52 on the needle. Knit 12 or 16 rows,
and decrease in the same proportion in which
you augmented. The ends to be sewed to-
gether.
DRIVING MUFFATEES.
Commence as for the muffatees, (page 109,)
but use coarser needles and fleecy. Knit 3 or
4 inches, then begin double knitting on much
coarser needles; knit about 6 inches and cast
off. Sew up the opening at the side, and it
will forin a very warm muffatee for driving,

118
KNITTING.
IMITATION CORAL.
A skein of coral colored narrow worsted
braid is required. Cast on 3 stitches; take off
the 1st, and knit the other 2 in each row.
Every row is worked precisely the same. Use
2 steel needles, No. 14.
STOCKING.
You require 4 needles of a proper size, as
the extent of the stocking depends thereon.
On each of two needles cast on 24 stitches,
and 25 on the third; knit one round plain;
then 6 rounds ribbed in threes; then knit round
plain except the seam stitch, which must be
turned every other round until you have 40
turned stitches. Then begin to narrow, by
taking 2 stitches together before the seam, and
casting 1 over, after the seam, leaving 1 stitch
on each side, between the seam and the nar-
rowing; narrow every 5th round until you
have done so 8 times; continue knitting until
you have 18 turned stitches ; before you begin

KNITTING.
119
the heel, divide the stitches in halves, leaving
the seam stitch for the middle of the heel,
which is knitted in rows; every other row is
turned; when you have 12 turned stitches,
you complete the heel, by knitting the 9 mid-
dle stitches in rows, taking up one of the
others with every row, until all are taken off;
then begin the foot, by taking up 16 on each
side of the heel; make a seam-stitch on each
side the instep, and knit another stitch in the
loop under the first and last on the instep
needle, to prevent holes in the corners. Nar-
row every 2d round on the heel sides of the
seams until the number is even with the in-
step, when there will be 50 stitches ; knit
round until you have 14 turned stitches be-
tween the heel and the narrowings; when
you narrow, double at the seams, leaving the
seam-stitch only between; twice you leave 3
rounds between each narrowing, twice 2, and
twice only 1; knit the stitches which are left
together, casting off as you knit them.

120
KNITTING.
FANCY MUFFATEES.
Cast on as many stitches as you desire,
bearing in mind to divide them by 4. Slip
the 1st stitch, knit the 2d, then pull the 1st
over the 2d, bring the silk forward, and knit
the one lost,) again bring the silk forward and
seam the 4th ; commence again. Worked in
coarse black silk it makes a very pretty mit-
ten, or over light colored dresses a very
effective muffatee.
HERRINGBONE PURSE.
stitches. Commence with the silk forward;
slip a stitch, knit a stitch, pass the 1st over the
2d, knit a stitch, bring the silk forward, and
rib the next. This done, the silk will be for-
ward; commence again. Should you require
the purse to be longer, cast on as many stitches
as are necessary, bearing in mind that it must
be a number eapable of being divided by 4.

KNITTING
121
QUILT. TWISTED COLUMN.
In working this, caution must be used, by
casting on stitches of such a number as can be
divided by 8, without leaving a remainder.
Three steel needles are required. After knit-
ting the rows for the border, commence by
knitting 8 purled and 8 plain stitches to the
end of the row; every other row is plain knit-
ting. Repeat these rows 7 times, ending with
a purled and plain row. The next row forms
the twist; knit the 8 plain stitches, then take
off 4 on the third pin; knit the 4 following
stitches, then those you have taken off; knit
the 8 plain stitches ; take off 4 on the third pin,
knit the following 4, then those you have tak-
en off, and repeat the same to the end of the
row. Commence again. Care must be tak-
en in joining the stripes together, that the pat-
terns fit well. It is advisable to make your
quilt rather larger than you wish it to be, as
cotton frequently shrinks in washing.
9

122
STRIPED QUILT.
33 stitches to be cast on; knit 3 and rib 3
alternately for the 1st row. 2d row, knit 1
stitch, then rib and knit 3 alternately, ending
with 2 ribbed stitches. 3d row, the same as 2d.
4th row, knit 3 and rib 3 to the end. 5th row,
rib 2, then knit and rib 3 alternately to the
end. The 6th row is the same as the 5th.
Commence again with the 1st row.
HONEYCOMB BAG.
Use 2 needles. A very pretty purse may
be made as follows:-Commence with an
even number of stitches. Ist row, knit 2
stitches, turn the silk over the needle and knit
2 in 1; repeat this until you come to the 3 last,
then turn the silk over the needle and knit 1,
knit the other 2. There will now be 2 stitch-
es more than at first. 2d row, knit 1 stitch,
knit 2 in 1, seam the rest, till you come to the
2 last, which knit. 3d row, knit 1 stitch, knit
2 in 1, turn the silk and take 2 in 1, and so on

KNITTING.
123
- until you come to the 2 last, which knit. You
will now have the original number. 4th row,
knit two stitches, seam until you come to the
2 last, which knit. Commence again.
CARRIAGE MAT, OR CARPET.
Two well-contrasted colors should be used
of coarse lamb's-wool or worsted. Knit on
very coarse pins, alternately 40 stitches in
each; knit 70 rows, which ought to form a
ing the row with the color which came second
in previous one. The carpet should be lined,
and round it a fringe sewn.
A QUILT IN STRIPES.
Each stripe should be begin with the same
number of rows; if a border be wished for, first
of simple knitting, then alternately of simple
and ribbed, knitting the two side stripes; to
have a border corresponding with the bottom
one,

124
KNITTING.
FRINGE.
Cast on 9 stitches, or, if desired to be wider,
12 or 15. Slip the 1st stitch, knit the 2d and
3d, bring the thread forward; knit 2 together,
knit 1, turn the thread forward, knit 2 together,
knit the last. Cast off 5 stitches when you
have the required length, and unravel the 4
SQUARE FOR A QUILT.
Commence with 1 stitch; continue plain
knitting, increasing a stitch at the end of
every row. When there are 11, rib a row and
knit a row plain alternately, until there are 15
stitches; knit a row plain, then 6 rows of moss-
stitch, when you will find there are 22 stitches
on your needle. Knit 2 ribbed rows, then a
plain row, 1 ribbed row, 1 plain, and again 1
ribbed row; 28 stitches are now on your needle;
rib 2 rows; the next row is done by taking off
the 1st stitch, knitting 2 plain, ribbing 4, knit-
ting 2 plain, &c. In the back rows, all the

KNITTING.
125
stitches are ribbed; then rib 2, knit 2, rib 4,
knit 2, &c. The next row is a back row; all
the stitches are ribbed. Then rib 3 stitches,
knit 2, rib 4, knit 2, &c.; after that rib 4 rows;
knit 1 row; rib 2; and knit 1 row again.
Half the square is now formed; the other half
is like it, only decreasing instead of increasing.
These squares may be sewed together to any
depth, and the quilt completed by adding
borders.
GENTLEMAN'S PURSE.
Cast on 38 stitches; begin with the silk for-
ward, slip a stitch, knit a stitch (thus forming
a loop stiteh,) pass the slipped stitch over the
knitted one, rib a stitch, pass the silk back, knit
a stitch, bring the silk forward, slip a stitch as
at first, and begin again. Continue the pat-
tern to the end of the row. Every row is
alike. As 88 stitches is the width of the
purse, it may be made to any length required,
and the color varied at pleasure.

126
KNITTING.
TO MAKE A THICK BAG.
This is called moss-stitch, and can be done
with any number of stitches. Take off the 1st
stitch, pass the cotton forward, rib a stitch,
pass the cotton back, and knit one plain; pass
it forward, rib a stitch, pass it back, and so on
to the end of the row. Every row is exactly
alike, except that the stitches you knit plain
in one row you rib in the next. Can be knit-
ed on either 4 or 2 needles.
A SUPERIOR NIGHT STOCKING.
Use yarn and needles of a coarse descrip-
tion. On each of three needles cast on 18
stitches, and rib in threes same as for a stock-
ing for about an inch. Then commence
double knitting, by knitting the first stitch,
pass the wool forward, and take off a stitch
from the opposite needle, pass the wool back
again, knit a stitch, putting your wool twice
round the needle; continue thus until you
have all your stitches on one needle, and go

KNITTING.
127
on with common double knitting ; when the
stocking is long enough, cast off. Much
trouble will be saved if you get all your
stitches on two pins before you begin the
double knitting.
ile
FRINGE.
Cut a skein of knitting cotton into 8 lengths
for the fringe; or, if you desire a very deep
fringe, cut your skein into 4 or 6. The best
way is to divide these lengths into sets, con-
taining 3 threads in each, and place them be-
fore you; then, with a ball of the same cotton,
and two rather coarse steel needles, cast on 8
stitches, and knit one row plain; commence
the next row by knitting the 2 first stitches
plain, bring the cotton forward, knit 2 stitches
taken together; thus you form a loop-stitch.
Take one of the sets of cotton, put the ends
even, fold it in half, and loop it over your knit-
ting-needle forwards; knit 1 stitch, pass the
set back between the needles, knit 2 stitches

128
KNITTING.
again, bring the set forward, and knit the last
stitch. The back rows are plain knitting ; be
careful to take the whole head of the set with
the 4th stitch, which leaves 4 to be knitted
plain, and you have 8 as at the beginning;
after finishing this row, pull down the set or
tuft, which puts it in its right position.
ul.
ANOTHER FRINGE.
Cast on 10 stitches, and knit a plain row.
Bring the cotton forward, knit 2 stitches in 1;
repeat this twice more, then put on a tuft, and
finish the row as in the preceding description.
SHAWL WITH COLORED BORDER.
Let your knitting be in precisely the same
manner as the shawl, (page 129,) with this ex-
ception, commence with the color you intend
for the border ; when you have 7 stitches, you
must pass the white round it, and knit in the
end. Each time you reach the border pass
the colored and white lamb's-wool round each
other, which loops them together.

KNITTING.
129
DOUBLE KNITTED SHAWL.
Commence with 1 stitch, increase a stitch
each alternate row, which will cause one side
to slant. Knit plain kitting until you have 9
stitches, y of which are for the border; these
are knitted in plain knitting throughout; with
the other stitches begin double knitting, ini-
creasing as before. When the shawl is near-
ly large enough, knit a few rows of plain knit-
ing to match with the border on the other side.
FRINGE OF LAMB'S-WOOL.
A pretty fringe for mats, and is quickly ex-
ecuted. Cast on stitches sufficient to make
the length you desire the fringe ; knit a row or
two plain knitting ; then take a ball of lamb's-
wool wound 3 double in shades, or any colors
you like; knit 1 stitch, put the ends of the
wool on the ball between the needle (the ends
towards yourself,) knit 1 stitch, pass the double
lamb's-wool between the needles, looping it
round the first finger of the left hand, knit 1

130
KNITTING.
stitch, pass the wool back, knit 1 stitch, loop it
round your finger, and pass it towards you
again; repeat the same to the end of the row;
cut off the ball of double lamb's-wool, and knit
a plain row back; put the double lamb's-wool
between the needles as before; continue these
alternate rows until the fringe is thick enough.
INFANT'S SOCKS, FINE WORSTED.
Cast 63 stitches; knit once round, and seam
once round alternately 4 times with colored;
36 times with white; leave 18 stitches each
side for the heel; knit 20 needles, garter fash-
ion, for the instep ; 28 colored for the toe;
then narrow 2 stitches every 3d needle twice;
then every 2d till but 6 stitches remain.
Commence on the left side of the toe where
you began to narrow, and take up 14 stitches,
and take up stitches on the other side ; 25
times across for the foot, taking up 1 stitch
every other time on the toe, and narrowing

KNITTING.
131
3 times at the heel ; slip and bind the stitches
left as you come to them. Strap; cast 6
stitches on a needle, take up the stitches
across the heel; cast 6; knit 6 needles; bind
off.
INFANT'S SHOE.
Cast 16 stitches; seam every other 4; knit
4 diamonds; take up 12 stitches each side;
knit 12 diamonds; cast 16 stitches for instep ;
knit 6 diamonds; narrow every other diamond ;
knit 5 times round; narrow the diamonds left
before; knit 4 rounds and narrow again, and
so on till but 24 stitches remain; bind off.
Take the stitches up all round; 16 on instep
and heel, 24 each side ; knit 1 round plain, then
put the yarn round the needle, and knit 2
stitches together 1 round; then 1 plain ; again
open work; again plain; bind off all but the
heel; cast 16 stitches each side for the strap;
knit like the edge round the shoe. 6 knots
German worsted, wat

132
KNITTING.
BASKET STITCH ;
Which is made by putting the yarn over
the needle, then knit 3 stitches and slip the 1st
over the 2 last; knit 1 row over. Always be
sure to have the stitch over the loop for the
middle stitch of the 3 on the following row.
SMALL CAP.
Cast 85 stitches; knit 1 row; then 22 rows
of basket; 2 needles over, so as to bring the
next basket on the right side of the row in
front; knit 14 rows of basket for the roll in
front; bind off. 88 stitches for the cape; 14
rows of basket. 14 knots of worsted to knit it.
LARGE CAP, BASKET STITCH, WITH TWO COLORS.
90 stitches. Knit 3 needles garter fashion;
then 2 rows of holes; then 3 rows of your
other color ; 1 row of holes of the first color.
Drop 20 stitches each end of the needle, and
keep the rest for the crown ; 14 rows of holes

KNITTING.
133
of your second color ; take up the stitches that
were dropped for the frill, and knit 1 row of your
first color, and 3 rows of holes, and 10 needles,
according to your fancy. Roll for the front,
and 5 bands of 3 needles each. It takes 18
knots of the color of the roll, and 16 of the col-
or of the crown.
PLAIN CAP FOR AN INFANT.
Cast 45 stitches; put the thread over twice;
knit 21 rows each way; bind off. Cast 50
stitches; knit 5 rows each way; bind off for
cape. Cast 24 stitches; knit 2 rows white, 3
of the color of lining, and 2 white; bind off for
a bow behind. 2 braids of worsted across the
front, to draw, with balls at the ends, or ribbon
and bows; the same round the neck,

134
CROTCHET, OR TAMBOUR.
This is applicable to many useful and ele-
gant purposes, such as shawls, table-covers,
pillows, mats, slippers, &c. and easy of execu-
tion; indeed no description can possibly con-
vey so much real information as a careful
study of the following examples. Crotchet
needles are of ivory and steel; and long sharp-
pointed scissors and rug-needles are also re-
quired.
en
OPEN TAMBOUR STITCH.
With 3d sized twist. Cast on 200 stitches.
1st row, 3 double tambour stitches, 3 chain
stitches; repeat to end of row, always working
the double stitches 3 stitches apart from the
last. 2d row, work the three double tambour
stitches round the 3 chain stitches of the last
row; repeat as last row till the purse is com-
pleted.

CROTCHET, OR TAMBOUR.
135
FOR SHORT PURSE.
Begin at the bottom with 3 stitches, increas-
ing till you have 80 stitches; then work 5
chain stitches and 5 double tambour stitches,
round and round alternately, till you have
worked sufficient for the purse.
TAMBOUR OR CROTCHET OPEN PURSE.
Work with a fine tambour needle and
handle; cast on 220 stitches; 8 skeins of purse
twist, third sized, will be required. 1st row,
commence with one of the cast on stitches,
place a stitch on your needle, by bringing the
thread over ; put the needle into the second
loop, catching the silk in from behind, and
pass it through the three loops, and now on
the needle cast on another stitch, force it
through the first two on the needle's point;
two loops are now on it; cast on another, pull
it through the two, leaving only one loop;
cast on one, force it through the one; with one
row on the needle begin as before explained.

136
CROTCHET, OR TAMBOUR.
OPEN STITCH OF SINGLE TAMBOUR.
A LONG PURSE.
Cast on 160 single chain stitches. Ist row,
3 chain stitches, not attached to the cast-on
row; a stitch, by working 1 on the 4th stitch of
the cast-on row of foundation. 2d row, always
make your attached stitch on the centre one
of the 3 chain stitches worked in the last row,
then 3 chain stitches. Every succeeding row
is done in this way. When sufficient is done
for forming the purse, join it up in the usual
way, by tambouring it together about 24 inches
at each side, and draw it up at each end; the
attached stitch may be a bead-stitch.
FRENCH TAMBOUR. LONG PURSE.
Cast on 130 stitches for a gentleman's, and
110 for a lady's purse; work with a fine
needle and ivory handle, and purse-twist of
common size; all to be worked one side at the
end of the row; cut off the thread, and draw
it through the last loop, which fastens it. 2d

CROTCHET, OR TAMBOUR.
137
row, commence at the same stitch which you
began the last row on; and in the same man-
ner go on till it is sufficiently wide; then join
it by tambouring together. It takes 4 skeins
of twist.
SINGLE TAMBOUR
Is worked by drawing one loop through the
other, and used for open purses, and some-
times for muffatees, shoes, &c. &c.
DOUBLE TAMBOUR BAG.
With white common size purse twist-cast
on 280 stitches; work 2 rows white, 8 green,
2 white, 8 crimson, 2 white, 8 claret, 2 white,
8 blue, 2 white, 8 orange; this repeated, forms
the bag in Turkish colors. 3 skeins of each
of the silks are required; tambour or sew to-
gether the bottom part. This bag is drawn
by rings and tassels fastened to the sides.
10

138
CROTCHET, OR TAMBOUR.
FRENCH TAMBOUR, OR DOUBLE CROTCHET.
To work a Purse. Use a fine ivory hook,
which being coarser than the silk, produces
the appearance of an open stitch; work on the
right and wrong side alternately. In single
chain stitch cast on 100 loops, having the last
of the cast on loops on the needle. 2d row,
insert the needle in the first loop, and catch the
silk from the hinder part, pull it through the
loop. Two loops are now on the needle, pull
the thread through the two loops; this forms
one stitch. So continue in every loop to end
of row ; 90 rows worked thus complete the
purse.
BEAD CHAIN OF SINGLE TAMBOUR.
To accomplish this chain requires eleven
bunches of seed beads, and 5 skeins of fine
purse twist; thread 2 bunches of beads on a
skein of twist. Cast on 7 plain stitches; join
them; pass a bead down to the end of the
thread; work off the stitches; proceed all round

CROTCHET, OR TAMBOUR.
139
in the same way; continue till the whole is
finished.
This chain may also be done with little gold
stars all over. They are worked the same
way as before described, only threading the
beads in the following order:-11 colored, 2
gold ; 5 colored, 3 gold; 5 colored, 2 gold;
repeat stringing the 11 colored and 2 gold, &c.
as above described ; turquoise, blue, and gold,
look well, as do black beads and steel.

140
EXPLANATION
OF TERMS USED IN KNITTING.
A Loop-stitch is made by passing the
thread before the needle, and, in knitting the
next stitch, causing it to resume its former po-
sition.
A Ridge is made by two rows when knit-
ting with two pins.
A Turn is explanatory of two rows.
Bring the thread forward is to pass it be-
tween the needles before you.
Cast off is to end your row as follows:
knit 2 stitches; pass the first over the second,
and continue the same until you have but one
left, which, by passing your cotton through it,
is finished.
Cast over, bring the cotton over the needle,
quite round.
Hang on is generally understood to cast on.

KNITTING TERMS.
141
Knitting Stitch. Put the needle through
the cast-on stitch, and turn the material over
it, which must be taken up, and the under
loop, or stitch, let off. 'This is also called plain
stitch, and continued until one round is finished.
Ribbed-stitch, Purl-stitch, Turned or Seam-
stitch, tend all to the same meaning. A turn-
ed-stitch is done by bringing the cotton before
the needle, and instead of putting the needle
over the upper cotton, it is put under.
Round the needle, means the same as cast
over.
Reversed is understood to be quite round
the needle, the cotton being passed over the
same, and afterwards carried back to its place.
Set or Tuft means bunches of cotton used
in fringe making.
To turn, to change from plain to purled, or
the contrary.
To widen; increase is understood by this.
To increase in knitting a Quilt, by knit-
ting twice through the last stitch, which is
accomplished by knitting a stitch, and then,
without removing the needle, knitting a second
at the back

142
KNITTING TERMS.
To increase, or make a double Stitch, knit
one stitch in the usual way, then, without re-
moving the left hand needle, to pass the thread
forward and knit a second stitch, putting the
needle under the stitch. The threads must be
put back when the stitch is finished.
Together means knit two stitches in one.
To decrease is to lessen by knitting two
stitches together.
To fasten on in Knitting, lay the two
ends contraryway to each other, and with both
knit a few stitches.
To slip, take off, or pass a Stitch, is to pass
it from one needle to another without knitting it.
To narrow or decrease, is to work small, to
lessen, as in shaping a stocking.
To take under, to pass the right hand
needle through the stitch on the left hand one,
still keeping the same side of the stitch towards
you.
Welts are the rounds of ribbed stitches done
at the top of stockings, to prevent their rolling
ир.

MANAGEMENT OF THE FAMILY.
In domestic arrangement the table is en-
titled to no small share of attention, as a well
conducted system of domestic management is
the foundation of every comfort ; and the re-
spectability and welfare of families depend in
a great measure on the prudent conduct of the
female, whose province it is to manage the
domestic concerns.
However the fortunes of individuals may
support a large expenditure, it will be deficient
every thing essential to moral order and ra-
tional happiness, if not conducted on a regular
system, embracing all the objects of such a
situation.
In domestic management, as in education,
so much must depend on the particular cir-

144
MANAGEMENT OF FAMILIES.
cumstances of every case, that it is impossible
to lay down a system which can be generally
applicable.
The immediate plan of every family must
be adapted to its own peculiar situation, and
can only result from the good sense and early
good habits of the parties, acting upon gener-
al rational principles.
What one family is to do, must never be
measured by what another family does. Each
one knows its own resources, and should con-
sult them alone. What might be meanness
in one, might be extravagance in another, and
therefore there can be no standard of reference
but that of individual prudence. The most
fatal of all things to private families, is to in-
dulge an ambition to make an appearance
above their fortunes, professions, or business,
whatever these may be.
The next point, both for comfort and re-
spectability, is, that all the household economy
should be uniform, not displaying a parade of

MANAGEMENT OF FAMILIES.
145
show in one thing, and a total want of comfort
in another. Besides the contemptible appear-
ance that this must have to every person of
good sense, it is productive of consequences,
not only of present, but future injury to a fam-
ily, that are too often irreparable.
In great cities in particular, how common
is it that for the vanity of having a showy
drawing-room to receive company, the family
are confined to a close back room, where they
have scarcely either air or light, the want of
which must materially prejudice their health.
To keep rooms for show, where the fortune
is equal to having a house that will accommo-
date the family properly, and admit of this
also, belongs to the highest sphere of life; but
in private families, to shut up the only room
perhaps in the house which is really whole-
some for the family to live in, is inflicting a
kind of lingering murder upon the inmates;
and yet how frequently this consideration
escapes persons who mean well by their fami-

146
MANAGEMENT OF FAMILIES.
ly, but who still have a grate, a carpet, and
chairs, too fine for every day's use.
Another fruit of this evil is, seeing more
company, and in a more expensive manner
than is compatible with the general conven-
ience of the family, introducing with it an ex-
pense in dress, and a dissipation of time, from
which it suffers in various ways.
Social intercourse is not improved by pa-
rade, but quite the contrary; real friends, and
the pleasantest kind of acquaintance, those
who like to be sociable, are repulsed by it. It
is a failure therefore every way--the loss of
what is really valuable, and an abortive at-
tempt to be fashionable.
A fundamental error in domestic life of very
serious extent, involving no less the comfort
than the health of the family, arises from the
ignorance or mistaken notions of the mistress
of the house upon the subjects of diet and
cookery.

MANAGEMENT OF FAMILIES.
147
The subject of cookery is thought by too
many women to be below their attention, or,
when practically engaged in, it is with no
other consideration about it than, in the good
housewife's phrase, to make the most of every
thing, whether good, bad, or indifferent; or to
contrive a thousand mischievous compositions,
both savory and sweet, to recommend their
own ingenuity.
If cookery is worth studying, as a sensual
gratification, it is surely much more so as a
means of securing one of the greatest of hu-
man blessings-good health ; and we cannot
quit this part of the subject of domestic man-
agement without observing, that one cause of
a great deal of injurious cookery originates in
the same vanity of show that is productive of
so many other evils. In order to set out a
table with a greater number of dishes than
the situation of the family requires, more cook-
ery is often undertaken than there are servants
to do it well, or conveniences in the kitchen

148
MANAGEMENT OF FAMILIES.
for the purpose. Thus some viands are done
before they are wanted for serving up, and
stand by spoiling, to make room for others;
these are again perhaps to be succeeded by
something else; and too often are things serv-
ed up that had better be thrown away, than
to be used for food.
The leading consideration about food ought
always to be its wholesomeness. Cookery
may produce savory and pretty looking dishes
without their possessing any of the qualities of
food. It is at the same time both a serious
and ludicrous reflection that it should be
thought to do honor to our friends and our-
selves to set out a table where indigestion and
all its train of evils, such as fever, rheumatism,
gout, and the whole catalogue of human dis-
eases lie lurking in almost every dish. Yet
this is both done, and taken as a compliment.
We have indeed the ‘unbought grace of pol-
ished society, where gluttony loses half its vice
by being stripped of its grossness. When a

MANAGEMENT OF FAMILIES.
149
man at a public house dies of a surfeit of beef
steak and porter, who does not exclaim, what
How infinitely preferable is a dinner of far
less show where nobody need be afraid of what
they are eating! and such a one will be gen-
teel and respectable. If a person can give his
friend only a leg of mutton, there is nothing to
be ashamed of in it, provided it is a good one,
and well dressed.
A house fitted up with plain good furniture,
the kitchen furnished with clean wholesome-
looking cooking utensils, good fires, in grates
that give no anxiety lest a good fire should
spoil them, clean good table linen, the furni-
ture of the table and sideboard good of the
kind, without ostentation, and a well-dressed
plain dinner, bespeak a sound judgment and
correct taste in a private family, that place it
on a footing of respectability with the first
characters in the country. It is only the con-
forming to our sphere, not the vainly attempt-

159
MANAGEMENT OF FAMILIES.
ing to be above it, that can command true re-
spect.
“Minor vexations, frequently repeated, are
equal to greater individual calamities ; as
many small enjoyments constitute much of
the pleasures of life. Around the social board
every member of the family is collected thrice
at least in twenty-four hours. Thither the
head of the family returns from the labors or
cares of his business to recruit his strength and
to relax his mind. If he return to a table
constantly and invariably ill spread ; to a din-
ner to which he could invite no friend, and in
which he can have no enjoyment; a cloud will
gather on the calmest brow, and a feeling of
dissatisfaction may be extended to other things.
It is not beneath the solicitude of a good wife,
who would not suffer any abatement in the
affection of which she is the object, diligently
to study this book,* and constantly to provide a
neat and well dressed repast."
* This paragraph is extracted from the Cook's Own Book.'

REMARKS ON COOKING.
151
Animal as well as vegetable matter, re-
quires to be prepared by the action of heat, to
render it fit for wholesome food; the solid parts
are made tender, and consequently more readi-
ly soluble, or digestible, in the stomach. Some
of the water which is contained in all animal
matter, and which constitutes a large portion
of the bulk of all vegetable matter, is evaporat-
ed by heat; that bulk is therefore reduced
without any diminution of the nutritive por-
tion. In vegetables also many noxious chem-
ical principles, which would render the plant
poisonous, if it were eaten raw, are dissipated
by heat, and the food thus rendered innocent.
These are the principal effects of cooking,
which are common both to animal and vegeta-
ble food ; but the changes which the former
undergoes, in consequence of the application of
heat, are more numerous and complicated.
The constituent principles of all organic
matter, and on the presence of which in dif-
ferent proportions, the nutritive qualities of

152
REMARKS ON COOKING.
that matter depend, are fibrin, albumen, gela-
tine, oil, gluten, fecula or starch, mucilage,
sugar, acids, &c. All these principles are
modified by the application of heat; some are
rendered more digestible, others less so; these
changes are also dependent on the mode in
which the heat is applied.
When it is considered, that we are utterly
ignorant of the mode of chemical action of the
stomach, and of all that relates to the primary
functions of digestion and assimilation, it is
clear, that it is by experience alone we can
obtain any knowledge of the relative nutritive
qualities of different kinds of food, and the
mode in which it should be prepared. This
question is still further complicated by the re-
ciprocal action of the mind and body, in all
that relates to feeding. It is well ascertained
that more benefit is derived from a food which
is agreeable in its taste, and which affords a
gratification to that sense, than from one of an
opposite quality, though perhaps containing

REMARKS ON COOKING.
153
more of those principles which are considered
as highly nutritive.
There are three or four different modes in
which heat is applied to cook food, on each of
which we shall make some remarks.
Boiling in water is, generally speaking, the
most effectual. Every part of the substance
is equally subjected to the heat, owing to the
uniform temperature of the liquid; the fibrin
of meat is loosened, or softened ; and to do this
most completely, the water ought not to boil
fast, or, properly speaking, ought not to boil
at all; the meat should be put into it when
cold, since it is by long soaking in the liquid
that the desired effect is produced.
One objection againt boiling, as applied to
meat, might be obviated by economy, which
is often utterly neglected in cookery of all
species; this objection is, that a large pro-
portion of the nutritive parts are dissolved in
the water and lost; but if we made the same

154
REMARKS ON COOKING.
use of the water in which meat is boiled, that
the French cooks do,—that is, if we pre-
pared from it a thin soup, by adding vege-
tables and condiments, or by an additional
quantity of meat of an inferior quality, for the
purpose of yielding more gelatine and oil to
the liquid,—this objection would be removed,
and no loss incurred. The meat made tender
by cooking would contain the fibrin, gluten,
albumen, and other insoluble principles, while
the fat or oil, and the soluble matter, would be
retained in the soup.
It should be mentioned here, that no food
should contain nutritive matter in too concen-
trated a form ; it has been found that no ani-
mal will thrive, if fed on that principle, in a
condensed or concentrated state, which enters
most largely into its natural diet. Fat, or an-
imal oil, is more nutritious than perhaps any
other animal matter, but it would be impossible
to feed solely on it; and meat, though contain-
ing several other principles, is too nutritious to

REMARKS ON COOKING.
155
be a wholesome food, when consumed without
some vegetable matter to dilute it, as it were.
Concentrated nutritive matter is not so digest-
ible as when it is mixed up with that which is
less so, or which is even not at all so. It is
for this reason that rich dishes disagree with
healthy persons; a larger portion of nutritive
matter is thrown into the stomach than it can
readily convert into chyme, and the functions
are in consequence deranged. A certain de-
gree of solidity in the food is also requisite to
healthy digestion; hence jelly, which consists
of gelatine in a condensed form, is not so
wholesome as the same quantity of gelatine
would have been diffused through the fibrin of
meat; and strong soups, containing such gela-
tine in abundance, are objectionable on the
same grounds.
Roasting and boiling possess - several ad-
vantages ; the direct action of the fire, by
hardening the outside of the meat, prevents
the escape of the jucies and more volatile

158
REMARKS ON COOKING.
parts, while the fibre is made equally tender;
and the meat is by this mode of cookery ren-
dered more palatable, as having more flavor;
is also more nutritive, owing to the retention
of those principles, which by boiling are dis-
persed in the water. But the loss of weight
by roasting is greater than by boiling. Mut-
ton by the latter mode of cooking loses about
one-fifth, beef one fourth, while by roasting
they lose nearly one-third of their weight. A
great deal of this loss is undoubtedly to be at-
tributed to the evaporation of the water con-
tained in the meat, which is rather increased
than diminished by boiling. The principal
objection against roasting is, that the fat of the
meat is burnt, and of all animal poisons, none
is much more injurious than burnt or empy-
reumatized oil; hence meat abounding in fat
ought always to be boiled.
Baking partakes of the advartages and
defects of both the former modes of cookery;
there is less waste, owing to the confinement

REMARKS ON COOKING.
157
in a closed space, which prevents the escape
of the volatile matter ; but the oil being con-
fined, and also empyreumatized, renders baking
liable to the same objection as roasting.
Economy of fuel is one great recommenda-
tion of this mode of preparing food; the poor
which would not supply him with coals
enough to warm it, much less to roast or boil
it properly; this advantage however is neces-
sarily confined to towns, where one oven may
be employed to bake the dinners of numerous
families.
It is well ascertained that, generally speak-
ing, mutton is the most wholesome of all ani-
mal food ; owing to some strange asscciations,
or to some wrong use of words, there exists
very erroneous opinions on this subject. Most
persons not acquainted with physiology, im-
agine that the flesh of young animals, or of
birds, is more delicate than that of grown
sheep and oxen; and will hence recommend

158
REMARKS ON COOKING.
to an invalid, or a convalescent, with his diges-
tive powers enfeebled by disease, to try a bit
of boiled veal, or a chicken, or a rabbit, or
perhaps advise a little soup or jelly, &c.' Now
it is certain that, in ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred, a slice of boiled leg of mutton, or a
broiled mutton chop, would be infinitely prefer-
able to any or all of these, as being far more
digestible. The term delicate is totally in-
appropriate to food of any kind; if it be used
instead of tender, then all meat advanced a
small stage towards putrefaction is more ten-
der than when quite fresh, and is really more
wholesome. If by 'delicate,' digestible is
meant,—that is, the food which is soonest
converted into chyme, and assimilated to the
corporeal substance of the eater,--then a mut-
ton chop and bread will prove a much more
delicate breakfast than buttered toast, muffins,
hot rolls, and chocolate.
FINIS,






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1843
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Woman: at manden