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Title: What a Young Woman Ought to Know

Author: Mary Wood-Allen

Release date: March 30, 2009 [eBook #28458]
Most recently updated: January 4, 2021

Language: English

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Commendations
from Eminent
Men & Women

What
A Young Woman
Ought to Know

COMMENDED BY REV. F.B. MEYER
The Eminent English Preacher and Author

REV. F.B. MEYER, B.A.

Minister of Christ Church, Westminster, London,
Author of "Israel, A Prince with
God," "Elijah; Tried by Fire," "The
Bells of Is," etc., etc.

"The questions which are dealt with in the 'Self and
Sex Series' of books are always being asked, and if the
answer is not forthcoming from pure and wise lips it will
be obtained through vicious and empirical channels. I
therefore greatly commend this series of books, which
are written lucidly and purely, and will afford the
necessary information without pandering to unholy and
sensual passion. I should like to see a wide and judicious
distribution of this literature among Christian circles."

COMMENDED BY CHARLES M. SHELDON
The Eminent American Preacher and Author

CHARLES M. SHELDON, D.D.

Pastor of Central Congregational Church,
Topeka, Kansas; author of "In His Steps,"
"The Crucifixion of Philip Strong,"
"Lend a Hand," "Born to Serve."

"It is a pleasure to call attention to the books of the
'Self and Sex Series' which have been prepared with
great wisdom for the express purpose of teaching the
truth concerning the subjects which are painfully
neglected."

COMMENDED BY MRS. M.W. SEWALL
The Eminent American Educator

MRS. MAY WRIGHT SEWALL

Principal of the Girls' Classical School;
former President of the International Council
of Women; and Nominee of the International
Congress of Women.

"I am profoundly grateful that a subject of such
information to young women should be treated in a
manner at once so noble and so delicate that any pure-
minded teacher or mother may read or discuss its pages
with young girls without the slightest chance of
wounding the most delicate sensibilities, or by being
misunderstood."

COMMENDED BY MRS. M.L. DICKINSON
The Eminent American Christian Worker

MRS. MARY LOWE DICKINSON

Former President of the National Council of Women;
General Secretary of the Order of The King's
Daughters; Emeritus Professor of Literature
Denver University; Editor of "The Silver Cross;"
Author of "The Temptation of Katharine
Gray," "One Little Life," etc., etc.

"Any young woman, knowing all that this volume
teaches, has an essential foundation for whatever other
knowledge she may acquire."

COMMENDED BY MRS. M.B. CARSE
The Eminent American Christian Worker

MRS. MATILDA B. CARSE

Founder of the Woman's Temple, Chicago.

"As a mother, I can truly say that my heart goes out to
you in endorsement of this book. It is pure and
instructive on the delicate subjects that mean so much to
our daughters, to their future as home-keepers, wives
and mothers, and to the future generations. It can but
create a more reverent ideal of life in every girl who
reads it, and I wish every daughter in the land could reap
of its benefit."

COMMENDED BY MRS. E.C. STANTON
The Eminent American Lecturer and Author

MRS. ELIZABETH CADY STANTON

Noted Woman Suffragist, Lecturer
and Author.

"Your books I consider a valuable addition to the
literature of the day on social ethics. The many facts you
state are not only important for a knowledge of social
science, but involve good health and morals."

COMMENDED BY MR. C.N. CRITTENTON
The Eminent American Philanthropist

CHARLES N. CRITTENTON

Founder of the National Florence Crittenton Mission

"The frequent excuse which parents give for not
enlightening their children on these most important
points is that they have never known how to do so. This
excuse can no longer be considered valid.
"Dr. Wood-Allen has a remarkable gift in the facility
and refinement with which she is able to approach the
most delicate subject without arousing a single morbid
and sensitive impulse."

COMMENDED BY MRS. H. CAMPBELL
The Eminent American Author and Educator

MRS. HELEN CAMPBELL

Dean of the Department of Household Economics
in the Kansas State Agricultural College.
Author of "Prisoners of Poverty," "Wage
Earners," etc., etc.

"I cannot speak too warmly of your invaluable series.
There is hardly a woman in America so thoroughly
qualified by education, long experience, deep
sympathies, and, most excellent of all gifts, as deep
common sense, as Dr. Mary Wood-Allen, to meet the
growing need, or rather the growing sense of need.
Mothers and fathers alike will be helped and enlightened
by these simple, clear-phrased, wholesome books, and
they deserve all the success already their own."

COMMENDED BY L.M.N. STEVENS
The Eminent Temperance Worker

MRS. LILLIAN M.N. STEVENS

President of National Woman's Christian
Temperance Union.

"I consider the book 'What a Young Wife Ought to Know' a wise
and safe teacher. It is a careful and delicate presentation of vital
truths which have to do with the happiness and welfare of home
life."

COMMENDED BY EMINENT AMERICAN
AUTHORS AND EDITORS

MARGARET WARNER MORLEY

Author of "The Song of Life," "Life and Love,"
"The Bee People," etc.

"There is an awful need for the book, and it
does what it has undertaken to do better than
anything of the kind I have ever read. You may
rely upon me to make it known wherever I can."

ELISABETH ROBINSON SCOVIL

Superintendent of the Newport Hospital, and
Associate Editor of the Ladies' Home Journal;
Author of "The Care of Children," etc.

"'What a Young Woman Ought to Know' is
characterized by purity of tone and delicacy of
treatment.
"It is one which a mother can place with
confidence in the hands of her daughter. Reverent
knowledge is the surest safeguard of innocence,
and it is every mother's duty to see that the young
girl committed to her charge is duly forearmed by
being forewarned of the dangers that lie around
her."

Pure Books on Avoided Subjects

Books for Men
By Sylvanus Stall, D.D.

"What a Young Boy Ought to Know."
"What a Young Man Ought to Know."
"What a Young Husband Ought to Know."
"What a Man of 45 Ought to Know."

Books for Women
By Mrs. Mary Wood-Allen, M.D.
And Mrs. Emma F.A. Drake, M.D.

"What a Young Girl Ought to Know."
"What a Young Woman Ought to Know."
"What a Young Wife Ought to Know."
"What a Woman of 45 Ought to Know."

PUBLISHED BY
IN THE UNITED STATES
THE VIR PUBLISHING COMPANY
200-214 N. Fifteenth Street Philadelphia

IN ENGLAND
THE VIR PUBLISHING COMPANY
4 Imperial Bldgs., Ludgate Circus, London, E.C.

IN CANADA
RYERSON PRESS
Cor. Queen and John Streets, Toronto, Ontario

MRS. MARY WOOD-ALLEN, M.D.

NEW REVISED EDITION

Self and Sex Series

WHAT A YOUNG
WOMAN

OUGHT TO KNOW
BY

MRS. MARY WOOD-ALLEN, M.D.
National Superintendent of the Purity
Department Woman's Christian Temperance
Union; Author of "What a Young Girl
Ought to Know," "Marvels of Our Bodily
Dwelling," "Child Confidence Rewarded,"
"Teaching Truth," "Almost a Man,"
"Almost a Woman."

Philadelphia, Pa.: 200-214 N. Fifteenth Street

THE VIR PUBLISHING COMPANY
London: Toronto:
4 Imperial Buildings, The Ryerson Press,
Ludgate Circus, E.C. Queen and John Streets.

Copyright, 1913, by SYLVANUS STALL

Entered at Stationers' Hall, London, England.

ected by International copyright in Great Britain and all
her colonies and possessions, including India and

Canada, and, under the provisions of the Berne
Convention in Germany, Belgium, Denmark, Spain and
her colonies, France, including Algeria and the French
colonies, Haiti, Italy, Japan, Luxembourg, Monaco,
Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, and Tunis.

All rights reserved

[PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES]

Copyright, 1889, by Sylvanus Stall
Copyright, 1905, by Sylvanus Stall

TO
THE DAUGHTER DEAR,
WHOSE INTIMATE AND CONFIDENTIAL COMPANIONSHIP
FROM
CHILDHOOD TO WOMANHOOD HAS MADE IT POSSIBLE
FOR ME TO FEEL A SYMPATHETIC INTEREST IN

THE LIFE-PROBLEMS OF ALL GIRLS, THIS
BOOK IS MOST LOVINGLY
DEDICATED
BY HER
MOTHER

CONTENTS.

PAGE

PART I.

CHAPTER I.
WHAT ARE YOU WORTH?

The first great lesson to learn, your own
importance — Probably twelve million young
women in the United States — What it means
for one of them to be sick — Woman's work
in the world — The using of spiritual forces
— How much are you worth to your home, to
the community, to the state, to the nation, to
the race? 21
CHAPTER II.
CARE OF BODY.

Your body is your dwelling — It expresses 27
you — We can judge of character by the
external appearance — The body also an

instrument and should be taken care of — Not
"fussy" to take care of it in youth — We
should prepare for life
CHAPTER III.
FOOD.

A desire for health creates a desire to know
how to obtain it — The question of diet —
We eat to repair waste and to supply new
material — Overstudy less a cause of illness
than wrong eating — Tea and coffee not
foods — Alcoholic beverages interfere with
digestion — Dyspepsia produced by worry —
We should give ourselves to our friends —
Young women should study scientific cookery 33
CHAPTER IV.
SLEEP.

Every thought, activity, or motion causes
expenditure of force — In sleep the energy
restored — Amount of sleep needed — Effect
of sleeplessness — Causes of unrefreshing
sleep — Ventilation of sleeping rooms —
Beauty sleep 39
CHAPTER V.
BREATHING.

How often we breathe — What is
accomplished by breathing — Office of
oxygen in the blood — Breathing our
measure of ability — Breathing gymnastics,
their value — Importance of the diaphragm in
breathing 47
CHAPTER VI.
HINDRANCES TO BREATHING.

Effect of sitting attitudes — How to
counteract this — Wrong positions in
standing — Restrictions of clothing — Rule
for the tightness of clothing — Why tight
dresses may feel comfortable 55
CHAPTER VII.
ADDED INJURIES FROM TIGHT CLOTHING.

The effect upon the heart — Danger of
exercising in tight dress — Effect of tight
clothing upon the kidneys, upon the liver,
stomach, and bowels — How the bowels are
held in the abdomen — Influence of tight
clothing upon the pelvic organs — Upon the
circulation — A tapering waist a deformity 61
CHAPTER VIII.
EXERCISE.

The purpose of physical culture — Balance
between waste and supply — Gymnastic
dress a necessity — Value of housework —
Bicycle riding — Dancing — Skating —
Lawn tennis — Running up and down stairs
— Bathing 69
CHAPTER IX.
BATHING.

Beauty of complexion — Condition of skin
indicates condition of digestive organs —
Pimples — Constipation — Thermal bath —
Foot bath — Time to bathe — Daily baths —
The use of soaps — Wrinkles — Care of the
hands 77

PART II.

CHAPTER X.
CREATIVE POWER.

We have Godlike powers: reason,
imagination, conferring life — Organs of
individual life same in both sexes —
Differences between the sexes in size —
Dignity of man 87
CHAPTER XI.
BUILDING BRAINS.

Babies born deaf, dumb, blind and helpless —
The activities of the baby build its brains —
Our brains develop through cultivation of the
senses — Certain areas of brain govern
certain movements of body — Can learn how
to build up any part of brain — Professor
Gates' experiments in training dogs —
Creation of habits — Effects of malevolent
passions, such as anger, worry, etc. 93
CHAPTER XII.
YOU ARE MORE THAN BODY OR MIND.

You are neither body nor mind, you are spirit
— Your relationship to God — God's
obligation to us — Our obligation to Him —
God's school — His method of teaching us. 99
CHAPTER XIII.
SPECIAL PHYSIOLOGY.

Differences between boys and girls — Boys
need our sympathy — The crisis in the girl's
life — Sex in mind — Description of the sex
organs 105
CHAPTER XIV.
BECOMING A WOMAN.

All life from an egg — The human egg —
Menstruation — Girls may injure themselves
through ignorance — Value of sex. 113
CHAPTER XV.
ARTIFICIALITIES OF CIVILIZED LIFE.

Menstruation should be painless — Dr. Mary
Jacobi's opinion — Dr. Emmett on the
artificial life of young women. 119
CHAPTER XVI.
SOME CAUSES OF PAINFUL MENSTRUATION.

Woman not necessarily a semi-invalid —
Effects of wrong clothing on the young girl
— Evils of novel reading — Evils of
constipation — Congestions produced by
displacements — Serious results of
abdominal displacements — Value of
abdominal bandage — How to make one —
How to wear it — Effects of wrong attitude
— Standing on one foot — Correct attitude. 123
CHAPTER XVII.
FEMALE DISEASES.

Displacements of uterus — Leucorrhea —
Patent medicines — Honest physicians —
Sitz baths for reducing congestions — Age at
which menstruation first appears — Non-
menstruation and consumption — Mechanical
hindrances to menstruation — Suppression —
Scanty flow — Profuse flow — Treatment. 135
CHAPTER XVIII.
CARE DURING MENSTRUATION.

No long walks or rides — May pursue usual 145
avocations — If pain, keep quiet — Do not
use alcoholics of any kind — Use of heat —

Use of cold — Should you bathe at this time
— Arrangement of clothing and napkins —
Mental serenity.
CHAPTER XIX.
SOLITARY VICE.

Its results — Causes — Lack of cleanliness
— Pin-worms — All functions attended with
pleasure — Sex not low — Its development
accompanied by increased power — How
overcome the bad habit? — Remove causes
of pelvic congestions — Train the senses —
Study clouds, leaves, shapes, birds, etc. 151
CHAPTER XX.
BE GOOD TO YOURSELF.

What is real fun — The effects of a wrong
idea of fun — Flirtations — Familiarities —
Criticism of girls by young men — Class of
girls who are most respected —
Responsibility of girls — The conduct of a
pure woman the safeguard of man. 159
CHAPTER XXI.
FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN BOYS AND GIRLS.

The meaning of friendship — Mother the
girl's wisest confidante — Kissing —
Friendship between brothers and sisters —
Platonic friendships — The value of noble
companionship. 169
CHAPTER XXII.
FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN GIRLS.

Gushing girls — Manly friendships — The
highest type of friendship — To love truly is
to grow strong by true giving. 177

CHAPTER XXIII.
EXERCISES.

Correct dressing — To overcome curvature
— Round shoulders — To strengthen the
back — To develop the chest — Abdominal
muscles — To restore displaced organs. 181
CHAPTER XXIV.
RECREATIONS.

Walking — Running — Riding — Skating —
Rowing — Cycling — Tennis — Swimming
— Skipping — Dancing — Card-playing —
Theatre-going. 187

PART III.

CHAPTER XXV.
LOVE.

Different ideas of different people — Much
that is called love is selfishness — Love at
first sight — Present conditions of society
unnatural — Parents unwilling to teach their
children, yet permit flirtations, etc. — What is
love? — One word to express different phases
of regard — Love of man and woman —
Love should include mental congeniality,
spiritual sympathy and physical attraction —
Young people should have opportunity to get
acquainted — Comradeship of young people
— Love is a growth. 199
CHAPTER XXVI.
RESPONSIBILITY IN MARRIAGE.

Who is the young man? — What are his 209
antecedents, his talents, his habits? — What

sort of a family does he belong to? — The
wife marries her husband's family — Girls
should know this — A mother's privilege.
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE LAW OF HEREDITY.

A strange will — Should study the law of
inheritance — Plant heredity — Race
heredity — National characteristics —
Individual inheritance — We are composite
photographs — The law of heredity a
beneficial law — Transmission of evil a
warning — Bad tempers inherited —
Atavism. 215
CHAPTER XXVIII.
HEREDITARY EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL, TOBACCO, ETC.

Alcoholism produces nerve degeneration —
Tight lacing may have the same result —
Nerve degeneracy may lead to alcoholism —
Idiocy and inebriety increasing — Effects of
wine — Evils of patent medicines —
Inebriety of parents entails injury on offspring
— Folly of marrying a man to reform him —
Hereditary effects of morphine, chloral, etc.
— Dangers of the tobacco habit — Inherited
effects of tobacco. 223
CHAPTER XXIX.
EFFECTS OF IMMORALITY ON THE RACE.

The law of God not a double law — The
inherited effects of immorality — Millions
die annually from its effects — Transmitted to
child or wife — Contamination through a
kiss. 235

CHAPTER XXX.
THE GOSPEL OF HEREDITY.

Inheritance of good so universal that we fail
to think of it — Mercy shown to thousands of
generations — Heredity not fatality — Effects
of education transmitted — Experiments of
Professor Gates on dogs — A divine
inheritance. 241
CHAPTER XXXI.
REQUISITES OF A HUSBAND.

What is the young man's inheritance? —
What are his ideas? — What is his estimate of
woman? — What are his defects? — Are
there adequate reasons why some should not
marry? — May not married people be happy
without children — A girl should know
something of the personal habits of her future
husband — Should consider her own personal
habits — How freely may young people talk
together? 247
CHAPTER XXXII.
ENGAGEMENTS.

Becoming engaged for fun — May not
engaged young people throw aside
restrictions? — Long engagements — The
benefits of an engagement — Evils of a long
engagement — Engagement a time of
preparation — Sexual attraction not limited to
local expression — Duty of the engaged
young woman to her own family — Jealousy
the quintessence of selfishness — Trust a
suggestion to be true — Common sense
needed in marriage — Hold your lover to the
highest ideals. 255

CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE WEDDING.

Folly of preparing an elaborate trousseau —
The way of one sensible girl — The wedding
gifts — Bridal tours — The realities of
wedded life. 267

PREFACE.

During a number of years it has been my privilege to be the confidante
and counsellor of a large number of young women of various stations in life
and in all parts of the United States.
These girls have talked freely with me concerning their plans,
aspirations, fears and personal problems. It has been a great revelation to
me to note with what unanimity they ask certain questions concerning
conduct—queries which perhaps might astonish the mothers of those same
girls, as they, doubtless, take it for granted that their daughters intuitively
understand these fundamental laws of propriety.
The truth is that many girls who have been taught in the "ologies" of the
schools, who have been trained in the conventionalities of society, have
been left to pick up as they may their ideas upon personal conduct, and,
coming face to face with puzzling problems, are at a loss, and perhaps are
led into wrong ways of thinking and questionable ways of doing because no
one has foreseen their dilemma and warned them how to meet it.
The subjects treated in this little book are discussed because every one of
them has been the substance of a query propounded by some girl otherwise

intelligent and well informed. They have been treated plainly and simply
because they purport to be the frank conferences of a mother and daughter,
between whom there can be no need of hesitation in dealing frankly with
any question bearing on the life, health or happiness of the girl. There is
therefore no need of apology; the book is its own excuse for being, the
queries of the young women demand honest answers.
Life will be safer for the girl who understands her own nature and
reverences her womanhood, who realizes her responsibility towards the
human race and conducts herself in accordance with that realization.
Life will be nobler and purer in its possession and its transmission, if,
from childhood onward to old age, the thought has been held that "Life is a
gift of God and is divine," and its physical is no less sacred than its mental
or moral manifestation; if it has been understood that the foundations of
character are laid in the habits formed in youth, and that a noble girlhood
assures a grand maturity.
Dear girls who read this book, the mother-heart has gone out to you with
great tenderness with every line herein written, with many an unspoken
prayer that you will be helped, uplifted, inspired by its reading, and made
more and more to feel

"A sacred burden is this life ye bear.
Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly;
Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly;
Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin,
But onward, upward, till the goal ye win."

Mary Wood-Allen.
Ann Arbor, Michigan.

PART I.
THE VALUE OF HEALTH, AND
RESPONSIBILITY IN MAINTAINING IT.

WHAT A YOUNG WOMAN
OUGHT TO KNOW.

CHAPTER I.ToC

WHAT ARE YOU WORTH?

My Daughter Dear:
When I see you with your young girl friends, when I look into your
bright faces and listen to your merry laughter and your girlish chatter, I
wonder if any one of you understands how much you are worth. Now you
may say, "I haven't any money in the bank, I have no houses or land, I am
worth nothing," but that would only be detailing what you possess. It is not
what you possess but what you are that determines what you are worth. One
may possess much wealth and be worth very little.
I was reading the other day that the first great lesson for a young man to
learn, the first fact to realize, is that he is of some importance; that upon his
wisdom, energy and faithfulness all else depends, and that the world cannot
get along without him. Now if this is true of young men, I do not see why it
is not equally true of young women.
It is not after you have grown old that you will be of value to the world; it
is now, in your young days, while you are laying the foundation of your
character, that you are of great importance. We cannot say that the
foundation is of no importance until the building is erected, for upon the
right placing of the foundation depends the firmness and stability of the
superstructure. Dr. Conwell, in his little book, "Manhood's Morning,"
estimates that there are twelve million young men in the United States
between fourteen and twenty-eight years of age; that these twelve million

young men represent latent physical force enough to dig the iron ore from
the mines, manufacture it into wire, lay the foundation and construct
completely the great Brooklyn Bridge in three hours; that they represent
force enough, if rightly utilized, to dig the clay from the earth, manufacture
the bricks and construct the great Chinese Wall in five days. If each one
were to build himself a house twenty-five feet wide, these houses would
line both sides of eight streets reaching across the continent from the
Atlantic to the Pacific. For each one to be sick one day is equal to thirty
thousand being sick an entire year.
Now, if there are twelve million young men in the United States, we may
estimate that there are an equal number of young women. Although we
cannot calculate accurately the amount of physical force represented by
these young women, there are some things we can tell. We know that for
each one of these young women to be sick one day means thirty thousand
sick one year. Just imagine the loss to the country, and the gain to posterity
if it can be prevented!
Rome endeavored to create good soldiery, but was not able to produce
strength and courage through physical culture of the men alone. Not until
she began the physical education of the women, the young women, was she
able to insure to the nation a race of strong, hardy, vigorous soldiery. So the
health of the young women of to-day is of great importance to the nation,
for upon their vigor and soundness of body depend to a very great extent
the health and capacity of future generations. We are told that in the State of
Massachusetts, in one year, there were lost twenty-eight thousand five
hundred (28,500) years of time through the illness of working-people by
preventable diseases. Dr. Buck, in his "Hygiene," tells us that one hundred
thousand persons die every year through preventable diseases, that one
hundred and fifty thousand are constantly sick through preventable
diseases, and that the loss to the nation, through the illness of working-
people by diseases that might have been prevented, is more than a hundred
million dollars a year. So we can see that each individual has a pecuniary
value to the nation. You are worth just as much to the nation as you can
earn. If you earn a dollar a day, you are not only worth a dollar a day to
yourself and to your personal employer, but you are worth a dollar a day to
the nation; and if, through illness, you are laid aside for one day, the nation,
as well as yourself, is pecuniarily the loser.

Young women could not build the houses that would line eight streets
from New York to San Francisco, but, rightly educated, they could convert
each one of these houses into a home, and to found a home and conduct it
properly is to help the world. It is so easy to measure what is done with
physical strength. We can see what men are doing when they build
railroads, construct immense bridges and towering buildings, but it is more
difficult to measure what is done through intellectual and spiritual forces;
and woman's work in the world is not so much the using of strength as it is
the using of those finer forces which go to build up men and women. With
this thought in your mind, can you answer the question, How much are you
worth? How much are you worth to yourself? How much are you worth in
your home? How much money would your parents be willing to accept in
place of yourself? How much are you worth to the community in which you
live? How much are you worth to the state, the nation, the human race?
You can recognize your value in the home when you remember how
much you are the center of all that goes on there, how much your interest is
consulted in everything that is done by father and mother. You can realize
your value to the state when you realize how much money is spent for the
education of young people, how cultured men and women give the best of
their lives to your instruction. You cannot measure your value to the human
race until you begin to think that the young people of to-day are creating the
condition of the world in fifty or one hundred years to come; that you,
through your physical health, or lack of it, are to become a source of
strength or weakness in future years, if you are a mother. It is all right that
young women should think of marriage and motherhood, provided they
think of it in the right way.
I want you to reverence yourself, to realize your own importance, to feel
that you are a necessity to God's perfect plan. When we are young and feel
that we are of no account in the world, it is difficult to realize that God's
complete plan cannot be carried out without us. The smallest, tiniest rivet or
bolt may be of such great importance in the construction of an engine that
its loss means the incapacity of that piece of machinery to do its work. As
God has placed you in the world, He has placed you here to do a specific
work for Him and for humanity, and your failure to do that work means the
failure of His complete and perfect plan. Now can you begin to see how
much you are worth? And can you begin to realize that in the conduct of

your life as a young woman you are a factor of immense importance to the
great problem of the evolution of the human race? In the light of these
thoughts I would like to have you ask yourself this question every day, How
much am I worth?

CHAPTER II.ToC

CARE OF BODY.

The question "How much are you worth?" is not answered by discussing
your bodily conditions, for your body is not yourself. It is your dwelling,
but not you. It, however, expresses you.
A man builds a house, and through it expresses himself. The external
appearance causes the observer to form an opinion of him, and each
apartment bears the impress of his individuality. To look at the house and
then to walk through it will tell you much of the man. The outside will tell
you whether he is neat, orderly and artistic, or whether he cares nothing for
the elements of beauty and neatness. If you go into his parlor, you can judge
whether he cares most for show or for comfort. His library will reveal to
you the character of his mind, and the dining-room will indicate by its
furnishings and its viands whether he loves the pleasures of sense more than
health of body. You do not need to see the man to have a pretty clear idea of
him.
So the body is our house, and our individuality permeates every part of it.
Those who look at our bodily dwelling can gain a very good idea of what
we are. The external appearance will indicate to a great extent our character.
We glance at one man and say, "He is gross, sensual, cruel, domineering;" at

another and say, "He is intellectual, spiritual, fine-grained, benevolent." So
we judge of entire strangers, and usually find the character largely
corresponds to our judgment, if, later, we come to know the person.
The anatomist and microscopist who penetrates into the secrets of his
bodily house after the inhabitant has moved out can tell much of his habits,
his thoughts, his capacities and powers by the traces of himself which he
has left on the insensate walls of his dwelling. The care of the body, then,
adds to our value, because it gives us a better instrument, a better medium
of expression.
The old saying, "A workman is known by his tools," is equally true of the
body. The carpenter who cares for his saws, chisels and planes, who keeps
them sharp and free from rust, will be able to do better work than the one
who carelessly allows them to become nicked, broken, handleless or rusted.
The finer the work which one does, the greater the care he must take of the
instruments with which he works. A jack-knife will do to whittle a pine
stick, but the carver of intricate designs must have his various sharp tools
with which to make the delicate lines and tracings.
When we speak of health and physical conditions in discussing the
question of your value, we are discussing the instrument upon whose
integrity depends your ability to demonstrate your value.
Many young people think it nonsense to pay attention to the preservation
of health. I have heard them say, "O, I don't want to be so fussy! It will do
for old folks to be coddling themselves, but I want a good time. I'd rather
die ten years sooner and have some fun while I do live."
I wonder what these same young people would think if they should hear a
workman say, "Well, I have here a fine kit of tools; I am assured that if they
are destroyed they will never be replaced; but now, while I am learning my
trade, I don't want to be 'so fussy' about keeping them in order. It will do for
'boss workmen' to take care of everything so constantly, but now I want to
break stones with these delicate hammers, to cut nails with these razor-
bladed knives, to crack nuts with these slender pincers. By and by, when I
am older, I'll use them as they should be used, but I think it's all nonsense to
be so careful now." If in later years you should hear him complain that he
had nothing to work with, would you feel like pitying him?

No "kit of tools" was ever so complete as is the bodily instrument given
to each one of us. Its mechanism has been the inspiration of inventors; it
combines all forms of mechanical devices; its delicacy, intricacy,
completeness and adaptability challenge the admiration of the philosopher,
the engineer, the master mechanic.
I cannot here tell you of all its wonders,[1] but I would like to give you
such an exalted idea of its importance that you would look upon it with
reverence and take a justifiable pride in keeping it in perfect working order.
I would like to make you feel your personal responsibility in regard to its
condition.
You know that in the ages past men believed the body to be the
individual, and they endeavored through care of the body to build up mental
as well as physical power. In those days the acrobat and the sage were
found working side by side in the gymnasium, the one to gain physical
strength, the other to increase his mental ability, and each profited as he
desired.
When men made the discovery that the body is not the individual, but
merely his dwelling and instrument of expression, they came to feel less
regard for it, and lost their interest in its care and culture. Even the early
Christians, forgetting what Paul said about the body as a temple, began to
call it vile, and thought it an evidence of great piety to treat it with
contempt. I have read of one religious sect who believed that the Creator of
the body could not have been the Creator of the soul, and held that the chief
object of God's government was to deliver the captive souls of men from
their bodily prisons.
When men began to understand that the thinking principle was the real
self and the body merely a material encasement, it was no wonder that they
valued the body less and held mind as of great value. They failed to see that
mind without a material organ of expression is, in this world, of no account.
A great pianist with no piano could not make music, and he would be
considered a strange being if he did not care for his instrument most
scrupulously. Think of a Rubinstein voluntarily breaking the piano strings
or smashing the keys, while he made discordant poundings, and excusing
himself by saying that it was "fussy" to take care of a piano until it was old.
You cannot imagine such a thing. We can all appreciate the value of a man-

made instrument or machine; but the God-created body, a combination of
machines and instruments of marvelous power and delicacy, we neglect or
treat with absolute, positive injury, and excuse ourselves on the ground that
when it is old we will treat it more kindly.
Melville says it is a sin to die, ignoring what is to be done with the body.
"That body," he says, "has been redeemed, that body has been appointed to
a glorious condition."
It seems to me we prize the body far more after its use for us is at an end
than while it is ours to use. We do not neglect the dead; we dress them in
beautiful garments, we adorn them with flowers, we follow them to the
grave with religious ceremonies, we build costly monuments to place over
their graves, and then we go to weep over their last resting-place.
After all, is it not life that we should value? Life here and hereafter, not
death, is the real thing for which we should prepare, and earthly life without
a sound body is not life full and complete. Life is joy, vigor, elasticity,
freedom from pain or illness, enjoyment of all innocent pleasures in
maturity as well as in youth. We have no right to look forward to
decrepitude, to failure in zest of living, to lessening of real enjoyment
because of coming years. Life should increase in beauty and usefulness, in
ability and joyousness, as the years bring us a wider experience, and this
will be the case if we in youth have been wise enough to lay the foundation
of health by a wise, thoughtful, prudent care of our bodies and our minds.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] This Dr. Mary Wood-Allen has done in a volume entitled "Marvels of Our
Bodily Dwelling." This book teaches physiology and hygiene, by metaphor,
parable, and allegory in a most charming way. Superbly illustrated. 12mo. Price,
cloth, $1.50, post free.

CHAPTER III.ToC

FOOD.

If I can arouse in your mind a most earnest desire to be strong and
vigorous, I shall not find it necessary to give you very minute directions, for
if you have the ambition you will find the way. If I could excite in you an
intense longing to visit Paris, I should know that you would begin to seek
for the way of getting there. If I could create in you an earnest aspiration to
be well and physically strong, I should know that you would seek for the
books that would give you the necessary instruction. It will not be needful
to talk of rules and restrictions if I can make you feel the glory of having a
sound body.
If you were starting on a journey, I should not need to warn you of by-
paths, of traps, or of dangers if I could be assured that your eye was fixed
upon your ultimate destination. So it is in the matter of health; and yet there
are some general rules or principles which I might lay down for your
consideration.
In regard to the matter of diet. I do not want you to be hampered by
"don'ts" and restrictions as to what you shall eat, but I do want you to eat
with the thought in view that eating is to be governed by judgment and not
by the pleasures of sense. Why do we eat? Not merely because the food
tastes good. There is a better reason. We eat to live. We know that the food
which we take into our bodies is digested, elaborated and assimilated—that
is, made over into ourselves—and unless this digestion, elaboration and
assimilation is properly conducted, we shall not be fully and completely
nourished. Our body is made up of cells; the food which we eat is
transformed into cell structure, and this new cell-material takes the place of
the worn-out cells. Our reason would tell us that if too little material is

furnished, cells will not be properly repaired and ill-health will follow. Our
reason would tell us in the same way that if too much material is furnished,
the machine will be clogged and the work will not be properly done. We
will also understand at once that an irregular supply of new material would
interfere with the elaboration of that which is undergoing the process of
digestion and assimilation. We can see, too, that unless the various tissues
receive the material which they can transform into themselves, they will not
be fully repaired. If material is taken into the system which supplies no
tissue with what it needs, this material becomes a source of irritation.
These general rules borne in mind are sufficient to guide us into a wiser
life than if we do not understand them; and, understanding these general
principles, we will be anxious to study the particular rules which govern
digestion and assimilation.
I have known young women in college to be so absolutely ignorant or
indifferent to physiological law as to be injuring themselves constantly by
disobedience of such laws. I knew one girl, supposed to be a very fine
student, and to have brought on "fits" by overstudy, while away at school. I
had an opportunity to investigate the case, and I discovered that she had
been eating from morning till night. She carried nuts, and candy, and apples
in her pocket, had pickles and cake in her room, and studied and munched
until it was no doubt a disturbed digestion, rather than an overused brain,
that caused the "fits."
If you will eat regularly of plain meat, vegetables, fruits, cereals, milk
and eggs, plainly prepared, and avoid rich pastries, cakes, puddings, pickles
and sweetmeats, you will have compassed the round of healthful diet, and
need give yourself very little anxiety in regard to anything more. I should
like to emphasize the fact, however, that tea and coffee are not foods. They
are irritants, stimulants, nerve-poisons. They bring nothing to the system to
build it up. They satisfy the sense of hunger without having contributed to
the nourishment of the body. If you are wise you will avoid them. You will
not create for yourself any false necessities. You will avoid the use of
alcohol in all forms, whether wine, ales, beer or cider, as well as in the
stronger forms, because you will know that these products interfere with
digestion. Dr. Kellogg, of Battle Creek, has made an experiment which
proved that sherry to the amount of 1 per cent. of the contents of the
stomach retarded digestion nearly 4 per cent.

He calculates that 1 per cent. of sherry would be equal to two tenths of 1
per cent. of alcohol, and it would be necessary to take less than an ordinary
tablespoonful of the wine to obtain this percentage.
When 3 per cent. of claret was used (equivalent to three-tenths of 1 per
cent. of alcohol), there was marked diminution in digestive activity. This
certainly proves that even the so-called light wines are injurious, and
certainly the drinks that contain a large per cent. of alcohol must be that
much more hurtful.
If you use good judgment both as to the quality and quantity of foods,
you need then give the matter very little thought. People sometimes make
themselves dyspeptics by worrying about what they eat. Eat what is set
before you, making a judicious choice both as to variety and quantity, and
then determine that your food shall digest.
When you live upon the higher plane of thought, you will not be so much
interested in the question of food as regards gustatory pleasure. You will
understand that eating is a necessity, but you will not be thinking about it;
you will not be desiring to please the sense of taste; you will see that there
are higher forms of sociability than mere eating with friends, and you will
not be so interested in late suppers, and in various forms of sense
gratification because you enjoy more thoroughly the higher pleasures. You
will serve your friends with delicate food, simply and daintily prepared, and
seasoned with that wit and wisdom which remain as a permanent mental
pabulum. You will make them feel that when you come to visit them you
come not to get something to eat, but to enjoy them, to receive from them
the inspiration which they can give. We often treat our friends as if we
thought they came as beggars for physical food. It is a much higher
compliment to treat them as though we thought they came to exchange
thoughts with us, to walk with us in the higher paths of living, and that the
physical food we give them is only incidental. I was once entertained where
a company of intelligent, cultured people were assembled, and we did not
see the hostess from the time we entered the house until supper was served.
She sat at the table, worried and anxious, and after the supper was over she
did not make her appearance until just as we were about to leave. She did
not pay us the high compliment of giving us herself, but she bestowed upon
us that which a hired cook might have given.

You remember what Emerson says: "I pray you, O excellent wife,
cumber not yourself and me to get a curiously rich dinner for this man and
woman who have just alighted at our gate. These things, if they desire them,
they can get for a few shillings at any village inn; but rather let that stranger
see, if he will, in your looks, accents and behavior, your heart and
earnestness, your thought and will, that which he cannot buy at any price in
any city, and which he may travel miles and dine sparely and sleep hardly to
behold."
It would indeed be worth your while to study food scientifically, to know
how to prepare dainty and tempting dishes wholesomely, and then to serve
your guests with such beauty of manner, such graciousness of courtesy, that
they will remember the meal they have taken with you as idyllic in its
simplicity, beauty and helpfulness.

CHAPTER IV.ToC

SLEEP.

Shakespeare writes of "Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care."
The metaphor is striking, but not accurate. To knit up that which is ravelled
implies using the old material in repairing the damage, but that is not the
way in which the body is rebuilt. The old material is thrown out and new
material put in its place, and that largely takes place during sleep. We have
read of brownies who came at night and swept and churned and baked
while the housewife slept. So, in our bodily dwelling, the vital forces are
our brownies, and they can work more uninterruptedly while we are asleep

than when we are calling on them to move us from place to place, or to aid
us in various activities.
Much of life's processes must remain a mystery to us, but certain things
we have learned, and one is that perfect health cannot be maintained, strong
nerves cannot be constructed, nor a clear brain be built without plenty of
sleep. The baby sleeps almost continually because he is building so much
new structure. The growing child needs more sleep than the adult; but even
after reaching maturity sleep cannot be materially lessened without injury to
the whole organization.
We appreciate the need of food. We are often very needlessly alarmed for
fear that we shall starve from one meal to the next, but few of us realize that
food cannot be assimilated, built into tissue, without some hours in which
the vital forces can devote themselves wholly to the work of assimilation.
During the working hours of the day we are expending force. The brain is
using it in thought, the muscles are calling for force in various activities, the
emotions are expending energy, and each of these activities is creating
changes in the cells of the body. We know that life in the body is only
possible through constant death of the atoms of which it is composed. We
can only live because we are constantly dying. Huxley says, "For every
vital act, life is used up. All work implies waste, and the work of life results
directly or indirectly in the waste of protoplasm (which is the cell
substance). Every word uttered by a speaker costs him some physical loss,
and in the strictest sense he burns that others may have light."
Each word, thought, activity, emotion causes expenditure, and unless
expenditure is in some way made good, there will be bankruptcy. How shall
we get back the energy we have expended and so restore our vital forces to
their equilibrium? The protoplasm of which our cells are made we can
obtain from the protoplasm of animal and vegetable substances which we
eat, but we cannot use the material unless we are sometimes at rest, and by
quiescence of brain and muscle give a chance for worn-out cells to be
removed and new material put in their place. It is when we lay our bodies
down in the beautiful repose of slumber that this process can go on with
most perfect results. Then, when all the forces can be concentrated on the
process of nutrition, will nutrition be most perfect. When we awake
refreshed after a night of sound sleep we are really fed. It is quite doubtful
if, in a normal condition, we would want food until we had been at work

some time and by destroying tissue have created a demand for more new
material.
If we were only half as anxious that food should be assimilated—that is,
made over into ourselves—as we are that it should be put into the stomach,
we would be very careful to secure for ourselves a due amount of good
sleep. And what is a due amount? That depends. I once heard of a servant
girl whose mistress complained of her because she did not get up early in
the morning, and the girl's excuse was, "But, ma'am, I can't get up early
because I sleep so slow."
It seems a ridiculous statement, and yet there is a germ of truth in it. In
some people the vital processes go on with such rapidity that the old, worn-
out material will be eliminated and the new material built into the body in a
comparatively short time. Seven hours of good sleep, perhaps, make them
feel strong and rested and able to start on a new day's work with courage
and ease. In others the vital processes are hindered or work feebly and
slowly, and eight or nine hours of sleep scarcely suffice to complete the
work of restoration. What is the obvious inference? Simply that each one
shall judge for himself; but each should be wise enough not to confuse
sleeplessness with having had sufficient sleep.
Very frequently the loss of sleep makes it difficult or impossible to sleep,
and not until the excited condition of nerves can be calmed, can refreshing
slumber be obtained. Young women who attempt to be in school and in
society at the same time often bring themselves into the condition of
insomnia or sleeplessness, and foolishly fancy that because they do not
sleep they do not need it.
It is not at all difficult to understand that if you are constantly taking
money out of the bank, you must also be constantly putting money in, or
some day you will be told that your account is already overdrawn and your
draft will not be honored. One can overdraw for a time, and right here is the
danger with young people. They fancy, because they are not at once told
that they are overdrawing, that their bank account is unlimited, and then,
when it is too late, they find themselves on the verge, if not clear over the
verge, of bankruptcy.
How shall you know whether you sleep enough? If you will make it a
rule to go to bed by ten o'clock every night, and go to sleep at once, and

sleep soundly and waken with a clear head and a rested feeling, you may
infer that you have slept enough. If you are still tired or dull, something is
wrong. You may have been in bed long enough, but your room may not
have been ventilated, and so you may be poisoned by breathing over and
over again the emanations from your own body. Or for some reason the
process of digestion and assimilation may not have been carried on, and
poisons have been created instead of being eliminated.
If you waken unrefreshed, I should want to inquire into your habits of
life. Was there opportunity for fresh air to enter your room? Was there in it
no uncovered vessel, no old shoes in the closet, no soiled underclothing,
nothing that could contaminate the atmosphere? Did you eat a hearty supper
late in the evening? Is your system oppressed with a superabundance of
sweets? Are you living on simple, wholesome food, or eating irregularly of
all sorts of trash? There may be many causes, you see, for your "tired
feeling" in the morning, and instead of taking some "Sarsaparilla," or other
drug, I should try to find out the cause and remove it.
Many people are afraid of night air, and scrupulously shut it out of their
sleeping-rooms, and yet, what kind of air can you get at night but night air?
And is it not better to have pure night air from out of doors than the impure
night air of a close room? I once went with two ladies to ascend the Rigi in
Switzerland, in order to see the sun rise. One of these was a Polish countess,
who took with her a little black-and-tan terrier. The hotel at the Rigi Staeffel
was crowded, and we thought ourselves very fortunate to secure a room
with three beds. The Countess disposed herself in one bed with her little
dog, and I took one bed, saying to my friend, "You'll please open the
window before you go to bed?" "O certainly," she replied.
The little Countess sprang up in evident alarm. "Open the window!" she
cried; "why, we'd all take our death of cold! I beg of you don't do it. I could
not sleep a wink if the window were open."
My friend spoke reassuringly to her, and she at length grew quiet, when
my friend surreptitiously raised a window and we went to sleep. The next
morning the Countess asked, with a strange air of incredulity, "Were you in
earnest when you spoke about opening the window? Why, I never heard of
such a thing in my life. I know I should have been ill if you had persisted in
having the window open."

My friend and I exchanged glances silently. We knew she was not ill and
she had slept with the window open, but doubtless she would have been ill
had she known it was open, for she had a wonderful imagination. When we
were called at three o'clock to get up and go to the top of the mountain to
see the sun rise, she turned herself luxuriously in her bed and said she could
imagine it. She had taken this journey and "climbed the mountain" (that is,
was carried up in a chair, with her dog in her lap), to see the famous sunrise
on the Rigi, and then remained in bed and imagined it! Her imagination
seemed entirely satisfactory, and so we did not quarrel with her.
Sleep is the most positive beautifier, the best cosmetic. The term "beauty
sleep" is no misnomer. Sleep freshens the complexion, smoothes out
wrinkles, clears out the brain, strengthens the muscles, puts light into the
eyes and color into the cheek.

CHAPTER V.ToC

BREATHING.

The first thing you did when you came into this world was to inspire, that
is, to breathe in. The last thing you will do will be to expire, that is, to
breathe out. And between your first inspiration and your last expiration
there will have been the process of respiration, that is, breathing in and out
at an average rate of twenty times a minute. Twenty times a minute means
twelve hundred times an hour, or nearly thirty thousand times a day, or over
ten million times a year. If you should live to be fifty years old, you will
have breathed in and out over five hundred million times. We eat three
times a day, twenty-one times a week, over a thousand times a year, fifty

thousand times in fifty years, but we breathe over five hundred million
times in fifty years.
We realize the importance of eating, but we can live days without food.
On the other hand, we cannot live many seconds entirely without air. We
must infer from all this that breathing is more important than eating. How
can it be? From our food our body is rebuilt. What life-process is
accomplished by breathing?
To understand this, we must learn what processes are going on in the
body, by means of which food is converted into tissue, into heat and energy.
These processes we find are chemical, and may be likened to the
combustion of wood or coal in the furnace. We know that fire must have air
in order to burn. Burning is the process of oxidation or combustion of
oxygen with the atoms of fuel and the formation of a new substance
thereby. Coal, we are told, consists of carbon and nitrogen, both of which
readily combine with oxygen, and in the process of uniting heat is liberated,
and waste compounds thus formed pass off through the smokestack or
chimney. We may not understand this scientifically, but we know that if we
want the fire to burn well we must give it draft or air.
Our bodies are living engines, and use food and air instead of coal and
air. Food in the body without air is like the coal in an engine without air;
and air is useful only because it brings oxygen to unite chemically with the
food. This process is going on all over the body. Each little microscopical
cell is a furnace in which oxidation is taking place; and not only is energy
liberated, but reconstructive processes are going on, new tissues are being
formed, and old tissues removed.
But how can the oxygen get to the cells in all parts of the body? We can
readily see how it gets to the air-cells of the lungs, but it would do little
good if it stopped there. It must be carried in some way to all the minutest
cells of all the tissues. This is done through the breathing. The blood goes to
the lungs, and there it gives out the waste material it has collected in its
journey through the body and takes up oxygen. The blood goes to the lungs
dark in color from its load of waste. It is changed to a bright red by taking
up oxygen. Each red blood-corpuscle takes a load of oxygen, carries it to its
destination, and gives it to some tissue to be used up in the chemical
process of oxidation, upon which depends our life and energy. During the

hours of rest the tissues are busy in this process, and during exercise the
energy stored up in the tissue-cells is liberated and waste created. So we see
that the process is a continual round of taking food and air, using them in
rebuilding tissue, then using up the tissue by exercise and casting out the
waste products. And now we can begin to understand that we live in
proportion as we breathe. Dr. Holbrook says: "The activity of the child is in
close relation to the strength of its lungs; so, too, is the calmness, dignity
and power of a man in proportion to the depth and tranquility of his
respiration. If the lungs are strong and active, there is courage and boldness;
if feeble, there is cowardice and debility. To be out of spirits is to be out of
breath. To be animated and joyous is to be full of breath." "Breathing,"
writes Dr. von der Deeken, "is an actual vivifying act, and the need of
breath as felt is a real life-hunger and a proof that without the continual
charging of the blood-column with the proper force, all the other vital
organs would soon stagnate and cease action altogether."
Now I wonder how many young women really know how to breathe.
"Why," you say, "we have always breathed!" And I reply, "So you have, to
some extent; but do you really breathe, or do you just let a little current of
air flow gently through a part of your lungs, not reaching the minute air-
cells at all, or have you crippled a large part of your lung-power by the
restrictions of tight clothing?" Now you shrug your shoulders and say, with
a little irritation, perhaps, "O, now she is going to scold about corsets and
tight-lacing, and I do not wear my clothes tight." But I am not now going to
talk of lacing; I am going to talk about singing, and speaking, and real
living. The highest class of living creatures are those that have most power
to breathe. The cold-blooded animals breathe little, and are slow-moving
creatures with deficient sensation and small powers of action. Man has large
lung-capacity and should be full of life and power, and will be, if he
understands himself. One benefit of exercise is the added impulse given to
the heart and lungs, calling for more breath, and bringing more blood to the
lungs to receive the added supply of oxygen.
If we were wise we would practise the art of deep, voluntary breathing,
as a daily form of gymnastics. What would it do for us? Wonderful things,
if we may believe the doctors. Even in the old Greek and Roman times the
doctors recommended deep breathing, the voluntary holding of air in the
lungs, believing that this exercise cleansed the system of impurities and

gave strength. And all our scientific discoverers have proven that they were
right, and modern doctors have only learned more of the process and added
to the wisdom of the ancients. Professor Lehwess says that he uses deep
breathing not only as a health remedy but as a cure for muscular
convulsions, especially chronic spasms; and he says that he bases his
method for the cure of stuttering mainly upon respiratory and vocal
exercises, "whereby," he says, "we work on enervated muscles, and make
their function bring them into permanent activity and make them obedient
to our will." Thus not only will the respiratory system be enlarged and
quickened, and the lungs strengthened, but the blood circulation is
promoted and those injurious influences overcome which often take away
the stutterer's courage for speaking.
Dr. Niemeyer, of Leipzig, urges breathing in these words: "Prize air; use
good, pure air; breathe fresh air in your room by night and day." Dr. Bicking
says that respiratory gymnastics are the only effectual remedy for
pulmonary affection, especially for consumption. The Marquise Ciccolina
claims that by the teaching of breathing gymnastics she has cured people of
a tendency to take cold easily; she has benefited cases of lung and heart
trouble, and she has cured nervous asthma even in cases that have lasted
from childhood to maturity. Dr. Kitchen asserts that if the various structures
of the body, including the lungs, are in a sufficiently healthy state,
consumption cannot find a soil in which to commence its ravages, or, if
already commenced, can be cured by attention to the general health, by pure
air and deep breathing.
All this proves that the breathing is of great importance—of just as much
importance to women as to men. It used to be thought that women breathe
naturally with the upper part of the chest and men with the abdominal
muscles, but we have now learned that in the breathing of both men and
women the diaphragm should be used and the lower part of the chest
expanded. The breathing should neither be thoracic—that is, with the upper
part of the chest—nor abdominal. It should be diaphragmatic; that is, with
the expansion of the sides of the lower part of the chest, thus filling every
air-cell and bringing the life-giving oxygen to the blood. The importance of
the diaphragm as the breathing muscle cannot be overestimated. A
diaphragm, you know, is a partition across a cylinder; the diaphragm is a
muscular partition across the cylinder of the body, dividing the lungs from

the abdomen. In breathing, the diaphragm becomes tense, and in becoming
tense becomes also flattened, just as an umbrella does by being opened. In
fact the opening and shutting of an umbrella gives a very good idea of the
motion of the diaphragm in breathing. We can realize, then, how much
larger around the body will be when the lungs are fully inflated than it is
when we breathe the air out and the lungs are empty. A few minutes spent
each day in exercising in diaphragmatic breathing would be of great
advantage in increasing beauty of form, in giving strength and power to the
voice, in improving the complexion and adding to the health, and therefore
to the happiness. In taking these exercises, one should either stand erect or
lie flat upon the back and draw the air in through the nose, keeping the
mouth closed. Draw in gently, allowing the chest to expand at the sides,
hold the air for a little time, and then breathe out slowly.
These exercises performed in a room that is well ventilated, or, better
still, in the pure air of outdoors, will do much toward driving away
headaches, clearing the brain, giving better judgment, stronger will, and a
clearer, happier, brighter disposition.

CHAPTER VI.ToC

HINDRANCES TO BREATHING.

This little conversation will be on the hindrances to deep breathing, for if
we make up our minds that it is so important to breathe deeply we shall be
very anxious to know how to avoid the hindrances to deep breathing. First,
let me speak of attitude. If you study physiology and note the arrangement
of the internal organs, you will very easily see that when the body is

compressed in a sitting attitude there must be a hindrance to full and deep
breathing. The girl who is running the typewriter or the sewing-machine, or
the girl who is working as bookkeeper or stenographer, or the girl at her
studies, is sitting so that it will not be possible to breathe deeply, for the
lungs are encroached upon by the crowding together of the other viscera
(which means the vital organs) and the action of the breathing muscles is
impeded by compression. As you will readily observe, there can be no
lifting of the chest in this compressed attitude, no complete flattening of the
diaphragm, no full inflation of the minute air-cells; therefore, as we have
learned, the blood is not thoroughly purified, and actual poisons created by
the vital processes accumulate in the brain and tissues until you feel
overpoweringly weary and stupid. You cannot think, because you cannot
fully breathe.
You have often found, when sewing, that the machine would get, as you
say, bewitched. It wouldn't feed, the thread would break or the needle would
snap, and the whole work go wrong. Put the machine away, take a rest, and
the next day, without doing anything at all to the machine, you find that it
runs perfectly. The trouble was with yourself. It is so with the girl who is
running the typewriter. She finds that it makes mistakes in spelling, things
go wrong altogether. It "acts up," as she would say. So with the girl who is
bookkeeper. The figures will not add themselves up right. Now if, under
these circumstances, the girl would get up, go to the door, take a few deep
breaths and expand the lungs fully, she would relieve the internal
congestion consequent upon the cramped position, the brain would be freed
from the accumulated poison, and as a consequence the troublesome
problems would soon be solved, the typewriter would spell correctly, the
figures would add themselves up accurately, and life would become brighter
at once. Five minutes spent each hour in deep breathing of pure air would
add both to the quality and quantity of work done, and so be a saving of
time. This certainly is of great value to you in your work in the world.
After working-hours are over, the girl should make a special effort to sit
erect for other reasons than that of breathing, though that is reason enough.
But wrong sitting-postures are not the only attitudes that interfere with
deep breathing. Very often the position in standing is also objectionable.
When one stands with the weight resting on the heels the body is thrown
out of balance, and as a consequence the shoulders are not on a vertical line

with the hips. In this attitude it is impossible to manifest fullness of life,
because the lungs are not fully inflated with air at each breath. We live,
enjoy, accomplish only in proportion to our breathing ability. As one writer
says, "The deep thinker, the orator, the fine singer, must of necessity be a
good breather."
The most serious hindrance to deep breathing is found in the restrictions
of the clothing. I do not say of the corsets, because tight bands or waists can
also compress the body and make full breathing impossible. Of course you
say your dresses are loose, and you run your hand up under your waist to
prove it to me. I will not argue the question with you, but I will ask you to
argue it with yourself.
If breathing is the measure of your living and doing, then if, in the least
degree, you limit by your dress your breathing, the dress is too tight.
"Well," you ask "how shall I know if I am hindering my breathing? My
dress feels comfortable. It seems to me that I breathe. Is there any way that I
can prove whether my dress is tight or not?"
It is true that one becomes accustomed to uncomfortable things and
scarcely realizes that they ever were uncomfortable. The dress may seem a
little tight when you first put it on, then it begins to grow comfortable, and
after a while it feels loose, and you say it certainly is loose. I will give a
simple rule by which you may know whether your clothing is loose enough
or not. Unfasten every article of clothing; dress, corset, skirt-bands,
everything. Now breathe in slowly until every air-cell is full. It may take
some practice to do this, but persevere until you find the chest elevated and
filled to its utmost extent. It should swell out at the sides along the line of
the insertion of the diaphragm. There should be no heaving of the chest.
Now, with the lungs so completely filled with air, bring your dress waist
together without pulling a particle. Will it fasten without pressing out a bit
of air from the lungs? If so, it is loose enough. If, however, you have to pull
it together, even to the tiniest extent, you have pressed out some of the air.
The minute air-cells that have thus been emptied cannot be again filled
while the dress is fastened. Therefore you are defrauded of your rightful
amount of air, and because part of the air is pressed out, the lungs take less
space and the dress seems looser. You can understand how that would be.

The trouble is that our dresses are usually fitted over empty lungs. The
dressmaker pulls the dress together, squeezes the air out of the lungs, and
fastens the dress. Now you can readily understand that it will be impossible
to fill those air-cells so long as the dress is worn, and yet it may not seem
uncomfortable, because we become accustomed to it. Nature has made us
so that we can accustom ourselves to many things that are not absolutely
healthful, but this should not make us willing to live unhealthfully when it
is possible to avoid it.

CHAPTER VII.ToC

ADDED INJURIES FROM TIGHT CLOTHING.

We have talked of the effect of tight clothing upon the breathing power.
Let us see what other injuries arise from wearing the dress too tight. In the
first place, the action of the heart is impeded. The heart is a hollow muscle
which must be continually filled with blood and emptied again many times
a minute from the moment of birth till the moment of death. You have been
lying down for an hour; let me count your pulse. Now sit up for a few
moments. I find, now, that it beats faster. Now stand up, and it beats still
faster. You see, it increases continually as you get into the erect position.
Now walk quickly across the floor and you will see how much it has
increased again in rapidity.
You will realize how much the dress interferes with the action of the
heart better from an illustration. Professor Sargent made an experiment with
a number of girls. One day they were dressed in perfectly loose clothing. He
counted the pulse of each. It beat on the average of eighty-four times in a

minute. He had them run five hundred and forty yards in the space of two
and a half minutes. The pulse was again counted. It had increased to one
hundred and fifty-six beats in a minute. This illustrates the effect of exercise
even in loose clothing. The next day at the same time, dressed with a corset
which reduced the waist to twenty-four inches, they ran the same distance
in the same length of time, and then he found that the pulse had run up to
one hundred and sixty-eight beats in a minute, showing how much harder it
was for the heart to do its work when restricted by tight clothing. No
acrobat would attempt to perform feats of strength or of agility if restricted
even so much as by a belt.
The Russian Government has issued an edict that the soldiers must wear
their pantaloons held up by suspenders, for it has been demonstrated that
when they wear them supported by a belt around the waist they are not able
to do a fair amount of work. The Austrian Government has also decreed that
the pantaloons of soldiers are not to be suspended by belts because of the
increase of kidney difficulty caused thereby.
We will understand why kidney difficulty is caused by tight clothing
when we study the location of the kidneys and how they are affected by
compression of the ribs. Most people think the kidneys lie low down in the
back, but in reality they lie up under the short ribs, and the pressure of tight
clothing brings the ribs to bear directly upon the kidneys, injuring them in
such a way as often to cause disease.
The heart and lungs are protected by a bony framework called the thorax,
but below the thorax there is no protection for the internal organs except
that of the muscles, therefore the corset or tight clothing can do most
damage to the vital organs below the diaphragm. The largest of these is the
liver. It should lie close up under the diaphragm, from which it is
suspended. Under the influence of tight clothing it is often pressed over on
the right side, sometimes extending over the whole front of the body, or
even as low down as the navel. It is rutted by the pressure of the ribs. The
corset liver is well known in the dissecting-room. Sometimes, where corsets
are not worn and tight skirts are worn, supported by the hips, the liver has
almost been cut in two, the pieces being only held together by a sufficient
band of tissue to keep them from dying.

When Hiram Powers, the great sculptor, was in this country, he once
attended an elegant party, and was observed watching very intently a
beautifully dressed, fashionable woman. A friend, noticing his interest, said
to him, "What an elegant figure she has, hasn't she?"
"Well," said Powers, "I was wondering where she put her liver."
You see, Powers had studied the human body, and when he saw such an
outline as the figure of a fashionable woman, he knew that some internal
organ must be displaced in order to create that tapering waist, and his
anxiety was for the internal organs. As an artist he did not admire the
tapering waist, as is shown by the beautiful marble statue which he made.
No artist would perpetuate in marble the figure of the fashionable woman.
Not only is the liver thus displaced, but the stomach is often pressed out
of its original position, which should be also close up under the diaphragm,
towards the left side. By the pressure of clothing it is sometimes pushed
down until it lies in the abdominal cavity, even as low down as the navel.
This is the statement of Dr. J.H. Kellogg, who, in his sanitarium at Battle
Creek, examines hundreds, or even thousands of women in a year, and
asserts that it is almost impossible to find a woman whose stomach is where
it belongs. This is a serious matter, because no organ can do its work
properly when it is out of its rightful position. We understand this in any
machinery except that of the human body. We would not meddle with a
man-made machine because that would hinder its perfect working, but we
do not hesitate to interfere with the body, forgetful that it, too, is a machine,
divinely created, and with powers most fateful to us for weal or woe.
But the harm is not all done by the displacement of the organs mentioned.
The bowels suffer, and we can best understand what is done to them when
we understand how they are placed in the abdominal cavity.
Let me take the ruffle you are making. The mesentery is a delicate,
narrow membrane about twenty feet long. We will compare it to the ruffle.
Folded in it at one edge are the small intestines, just as I can run this bodkin
into the hem of this ruffle. The other edge of the mesentery is gathered up
as you have gathered the ruffle. It is gathered into a space of about six
inches in length, and is fastened up and down the spine in the region of the
small of the back. You can see, if I gather up twenty feet of this ruffle into a
space of six inches, how the mesentery, with the intestines folded in the free

edge, are held in the abdominal cavity. They are held loosely, and at the
same time so that the intestines cannot be tied in knots or loops upon each
other. In this way the ruffle flares out into the abdominal cavity. The
intestines should stay in their place close up under the liver and stomach,
but if pressure is brought to bear around the body at this point, the bowels
begin to sag into the abdominal cavity. The abdominal walls lose their
tonicity because they are so compressed that they cannot have a perfect
circulation, the bowels sink down still further into the pelvis, and pull upon
their attachment in the small of the back, creating backache. The stomach
sags down into the cavity; the liver sinks, and all the organs pull upon their
attachments; so it is no wonder that women have backaches and headaches,
and their eyes feel bad, and they are unable to stand or walk. We don't want
small rooms in our dwelling-houses, we don't like it if we haven't sufficient
space for our furniture; but in this bodily house in which we dwell we are
quite willing to constrict the rooms in which the vital organs or furniture are
placed, until everything is huddled together in the closest pressure, so that
the organs are unable to do their work. It wouldn't matter in our parlors if
the chairs and tables were huddled close together, for they are not
constantly changing in size, but it does matter in a room where machines
must have space to work and such space is not permitted them; and we
cannot expect good work where we crowd machinery so that it does not
have adequate room.
The influence of tight clothing upon the pelvic organs is to displace them
and create a great many difficulties which we know as "Female Diseases."
But these, in my opinion, are not the most important things. The important
things are the displacement of the vital organs of the body—those organs
without which we cannot live, and those organs the perfect working of
which is necessary both to our health and our happiness. If we are wise we
will be exceedingly anxious that every vital organ shall be allowed to hold
its own position, to do its own work, with plenty of room.
The impeding of the heart-action by tight clothing is not in itself the most
serious effect of this restriction. The serious trouble is in the disturbance of
the circulation. Upon a perfect circulation depends perfect nutrition. The
blood must go in sufficient quantity to every organ in order that it may be
fully nourished. When the waist is compressed the organs do not receive
their full amount of blood. It is retained, and therefore the organs are

congested. The feet are cold because the blood does not reach them in
sufficient quantity, and the brain, it may be, is hot, because the blood is not
taken from the head with enough rapidity and furnished to the other organs.
So we find that tight clothing interferes with the integrity and health of
every organ in the body, and consequently with our happiness and with our
usefulness.
The reason we admire the tapering waist is because we have been
wrongly educated. We have acquired wrong ideas of beauty. We have
accepted the ideals of the fashion-plate rather than those of the Creator. We
find that some form of physical deformity maintains in almost every
country. The Chinese deform the feet, and we think this is barbarous, but it
is really not as serious as the deforming of the vital parts of the body. The
Flathead Indian is deformed in babyhood by being compressed between
boards until the head changes its shape. Among some savage nations the leg
is bandaged for a few inches above the ankle and for a few inches below the
knee and the central part is allowed to expand as it will, and this deformity
to them constitutes beauty. Among other nations, holes are made in the ears
and pieces of wood are inserted. The size of these pieces is gradually
increased until the lobe of the ear will hang down upon the shoulder and a
piece of wood as large as a man's arm be worn in the ears. All of these
things seem to us most horrible; yet, after all, they are not as much an insult
to the Divine Architect of the body as the deformity practised by civilized
and so-called Christian people, who by restriction of the waist interfere with
the vital organs and prevent the body from being perfect in its development,
or perfect in its action. The activity of the body is an evidence of its life,
and if it is so tied up that it cannot be active, it certainly is not in the fullest
condition of life.

CHAPTER VIII.ToC

EXERCISE.

You said to me, my daughter, that you wanted to join the class in Physical
Culture. I asked you why, and you said because you thought you needed to
build up in certain parts of the body. You were defective in muscular
development; you needed also to acquire grace, you thought. And I said, "Is
muscular development the primary object of physical education?" You
seemed to think that it is. Now I want to talk to you a little along that line,
and to demonstrate to you, if I can, that physical education is not primarily
for the building up of big muscle, or for the gaining of power to do great
feats of bodily strength or skill. The object of physical education is to
develop a quickly responsive, flexible instrument for the soul to use, for
that is what the body is. Physical culture, rightly conducted, aims to secure
the highest condition of the body through the exercises that are required by
the laws of the body. Law, physical law, governs the body, and exercise
should be according to this law. The first object of exercise is to make a
vital supply for the whole body. This is first secured by proper attitude. If
we stand or sit properly we gain a proper position of the vital organs, and
then they will do their work well, and the result will be more perfect
nutrition.
The use of certain organs increases supply, and the use of others quickens
waste; a balance should be maintained between the two. We must nourish
the life-sustaining organs before using the organs which use up brain-
supply, therefore we want to be sure that we are working according to these
laws. A great many people have an idea that physical culture means
building up big muscle. They measure the muscles of the arm and of the
leg, and judge by their increase in size of the value of the exercise. This is
not a correct measurement. Individuals may weigh themselves down by
development of muscles until they have not sufficient internal vital force to
carry so much weight. If we could only balance between the organs which
supply nutriment and the organs which use it up, we would keep in perfect
health.
We want to learn how to secure a maximum of results with a minimum of
force. That is, we want the body to be quickly responsive, to be flexible, to
be so that we can use it for the things we want to do without wasting

strength, and yet without being weighed down by a superabundance of
muscular tissue.
The first desideratum in taking exercise is to have every organ of the
body free, therefore a gymnastic dress is a necessity. Then we should have
the exercise conducted by some one who understands the peculiarities of
each individual and knows just what exercises are suited for her in her
special physical condition. They should also be directed by one who
understands perfectly that the girl with an anæmic brain, that is, with a brain
having too little blood, cannot be conducted on the same plan as the
exercise of the girl who has a superabundance of blood in the brain.
The best exercise is that which employs the mind pleasantly. A good deal
of exercise may be obtained in housework, and, if conducted with pleasure
in the work, may be of great physical advantage. Not long ago I listened to
a very charming talk by a lady whose dress betokened her a woman of
society. She wore white kid gloves, a dainty flower bonnet, and in herself
appeared an exponent of leisure and happiness. Her address was entitled
"The Home Gymnasium," and I supposed that it would consist of
descriptions of machinery that could be put up in one's own dwelling for
gymnastic purposes, but I soon found that her home gymnasium meant
household duties. She said one could scrub the table and obtain the best
exercise for arms and chest, and at the same time produce an article or piece
of furniture which would be a delight to the eye in its whiteness and
brightness. She said that in scrubbing the floor one obtained very much the
same movement that would be given in the gymnasium, while at the same
time the exercise would conduce not only to the personal advantage but to
the happiness of the family. She spoke of sweeping, and dusting, and bed-
making, and expressed herself as competent to do all these kinds of work, in
fact, as doing them. And she said she never felt more of a lady than when
scrubbing her kitchen floor, and she was not ashamed to be seen by her
friends at this work. If any one rang the door-bell, she said she would
simply put on a clean apron and go to the door, and remark without
hesitation that she was just scrubbing her kitchen floor, but she was glad to
see her friends.
This sort of a home gymnasium is at the command of nearly every girl,
and if she can bring herself to feel an interest in this home gymnastic

exercise, she may find it conducive not only to her own physical well-
being, but to the comfort and happiness of all about her.
The question is often asked whether bicycle-riding is injurious for girls,
and I would say that in my opinion it depends largely upon the girl. Has she
good common sense? Of course I am speaking of the girl who is in a normal
condition of health. A girl of extreme delicacy, or who is subject to some
functional difficulty, or the victim of some organic disease, might not find it
advantageous to ride. A physician should, in these cases, be consulted. But
for the ordinary girl, the girl of fairly good health, if she will learn how to
sit properly upon her saddle, will have the good sense to ride with
judgment, it seems to me that the exercise must be productive of great good.
My own experience is somewhat limited. I made some discoveries in my
attempts to ride. In the first place, I learned that it was important to know
how to sit. In reading a book on "Physical Culture and Hygiene for
Women," by Dr. Anna Galbraith, I found this sentence: "Sit upon the gluteal
muscles, and not upon the perineum." This was a revelation to me. I found
that I had been doing the thing which was not proper, and bearing the
weight almost entirely upon the perineum had caused constant rectal
irritation. The gluteal muscles, closely held together, form a firm support
for the body without injuring any of the vital organs. I found that by
distributing the weight—a little upon the handle-bars, and some upon the
feet—I was able to sit with less weight and heaviness upon the saddle. I
found, too, that it was quite important to have the saddle high enough, so
that the legs might be fully extended at each stroke, and with these
precautions I found the wheel a source both of enjoyment and of strength.
The harm done by the wheel I believe in most instances to be due to an
ill-adapted saddle or a lack of good judgment in the amount of exercise
taken. It is such a fascinating exercise, one seems to be flying and scarcely
realizes how much of nerve-force is being expended. If the girl learning to
ride will be prudent, gauging the amount of exercise by her amount of
strength; if she will gradually acquire the needed strength before attempting
long wheeling trips; if she will be judicious and not ride, perhaps, during
the first two or three days of menstruation, there seems to be no reason why
the ordinary girl should not be entirely benefited by this most delightful
form of exercise. It is not as objectionable, to any degree, as the exercise of
dancing. Dancing is a most fascinating amusement, and if it only could be

conducted under proper circumstances it would be very delightful. In itself
it is not so objectionable as in its concomitants; the late hours, the improper
dressing, the hearty suppers in the middle of the night, the promiscuous
association and the undue familiarity of the attitude of the round dance are
what make dancing objectionable. If dancing could be conducted out of
doors, in the daylight, with intimate friends, without the round dances, only
those forms of dancing which may be likened to gymnastics, as the contra-
dance, the cotillion, the objections to dancing would be largely removed,
but I am of the opinion that a large share of the fascination of dancing
would go at the same time.
Skating is a delightful, invigorating form of exercise, if conducted with
judgment. One objection to it is that the girl will skate until wearied, and
then, in that exhausted condition, perhaps ride home, or take a long,
tiresome walk from the pond to her residence, all of which is sapping her
unduly and annulling the value of the skating as an exercise.
Lawn-tennis is delightful and beneficial, provided it is undertaken with
due judgment and the girl is properly dressed. In fact, the subject of dress is
so closely associated with that of exercise that they can never be considered
separately. Even the moderate exercise of walking, conducted in the dress
of the fashionable woman, is in itself an element of danger, whereas more
violent exercise in a loose dress becomes a means of increased strength and
vigor.
I am often asked if girls should be allowed to run up and down stairs. I
see no reason why girls should not go up and down stairs just as freely as
boys, if they are properly dressed; but going up and down stairs in tight
clothing is certainly very injurious.

CHAPTER IX.ToC

BATHING.

You and your girl friends take much pains with your personal adornment.
You spend time in curling your hair and in putting on ribbons and laces, but
I sometimes think you do not pay as much attention to personal cleanliness
as you ought. It would seem as if some of you thought that powder would
cover a defect in cleanliness and perfumery would conceal the odors of the
person; but indeed it seems to me that the stylish make-up of your dress or
the curl of your hair is of very little importance compared with the care of
your health.
You each desire to have a beautiful complexion. I used to be told in my
childhood that beauty was only skin-deep, but I have learned better. I know
that even the beauty of the complexion depends upon the integrity of the
nutritive organs as well as upon the care and attention given to matters of
personal cleanliness.
I read the other day of a discussion between two young men concerning
the cleanliness of girls of their acquaintance. One young man noticed that
although one of the girls wore a very pretty dress-gown, she had forgotten
to clean her finger-nails. The other remarked that many things in regard to a
girl's personal cleanliness could be learned by riding behind her on a
tandem. The two then commented favorably upon the girl whose nails were
pink, whose ears and neck were clean, her teeth white and dazzling, and her
hair well brushed. I might say, in passing, that this hair-brushing time at
night may be well employed in reviewing the experiences of the day in
order to learn the lessons they teach, and thereby to avoid to-morrow the
mistakes of to-day.
These same young men also said that the complexions of some girls
suggested the idea of too little fresh air and too much candy. This, they
agreed, it was impossible to hide with powder. So we see that the care of the
skin is quite important if one would have the respect and the admiration of
her associates.
The skin is a very beautiful, complex and delicate covering of the body. It
consists of six layers, and contains arteries, capillaries, lymphatics, nerves,
sweat glands, sebaceous glands, pigment, etc. So you see that the care of the

skin involves much. One writer has said, "At the skin man ends and the
outlying universe begins."
The skin, filled with nerves, is continually reporting to the brain
concerning what is the condition of all parts of the body. The condition of
the skin reflects the condition of the digestive organs. Many girls are trying
to cure pimples on the face by the use of salves and lotions, when in all
probability all that they would need to do to gain a good complexion is to
pay attention to diet, to quit eating between meals, and not to eat so much
pastry, pickles or sweetmeats. Our athletes and pugilists are learning that
they must take care of the skin if they would keep in good condition, and
they are what in horses would be called well groomed. The skin is rubbed,
cared for, kept active, because it is understood that it is an organ of
sensation, of secretion, of excretion, of absorption, and of respiration. More
solid matter is thrown out from the skin than from the lungs, in the
proportion of eleven to seven. It is even more than the excretion from the
bowels.
The skin is an organ of breathing. This seems strange to us, but it really
does take up oxygen and give out carbonic acid, so upon the condition of
the skin will depend very largely the condition of the general health. We can
detect a constipated condition of the bowels through the color and odor of
the skin.
Many girls feel that it is more delicate to neglect the care of the bowels
than to attend to a daily evacuation, but if they would remember that it is
just as indelicate to carry effete or dead matter about in the bowels as it
would be to carry it upon the person in any other way, they would realize
that it is only politeness and refinement to see that this part of their bodily
housekeeping is duly attended to. If the bowels do not do their work the
skin will be obliged to take extra labor upon itself; so, as we have said, by
the odor of the skin we can detect the fact that the skin is doing the work
that should be done by the bowels. When a person is sick the condition of
the internal organs is shown in the complexion, and nothing more clearly
indicates health than the condition of the skin.
If this is so important, how shall we care for the skin? First, by bathing.
The tin bath-tub of the Englishman accompanies him in all his travels, and
has penetrated even to the jungles of Africa. Bathing appliances are marks

of civilization, and the bath-room is becoming a necessity. Where the bath-
room does not exist it is easy to bathe thoroughly and completely. A wash-
basin of water, with a sponge and towel, furnish all that is absolutely
necessary. A most convenient bath is the portable thermal bath, an
arrangement of rubber cloth that can be opened out to form a square
enclosure in which the person sits, with the head in the free outside air, the
body enveloped in steam generated by an alcohol lamp. This, followed by a
quick sponge-bath of cool water, is a most efficient way of cleansing the
skin; and this bath may be used in any room, no matter how beautifully
furnished, without soiling the carpet or furniture in the least.
One great secret of healthful bathing is, when warm or hot water is used,
to follow it by an immediate application of cold water, which leaves the
skin in a tonic condition. In preparation for going out in cold weather,
nothing is so efficient a protection from the cold as a foot-bath. Soak the
feet for a few minutes in water as warm as is comfortable, then plunge them
into cold water and remove immediately, or throw cold water over them,
wipe them thoroughly dry, rub them with a little olive oil, draw on a pair of
clean, warm hose, and the feet are not only warmed, but are protected
against cold and will stay warm. These precautions will prevent one taking
cold from the foot-bath. Care of the feet is a great necessity not only for
health, for equalizing the circulation, but for the prevention of unpleasant
odors.
As to time of bathing, I suppose that the body is at its highest point of
vital power at about ten o'clock in the morning, but this is, for most people,
the most inconvenient time for a bath. The circumstances of the individual
are to be consulted, and also the effect of bathing. There are those who are
made nervous by taking a bath, consequently they will not be benefited by
taking one just before going to bed. In other cases the bath conduces to
slumber. This depends very largely upon the amount of blood in the brain.
A person with an anæmic brain will not be benefited by the bath at bedtime,
but the person whose brain is overcharged with blood will find the evening
bath quieting.
I would not advise everybody to take a daily bath. There are those who
are benefited by it; there are others who might be injured by it. It is best to
study personal peculiarities and to watch the effect of the bath. If, within a
few hours, or the next day, there is great exhaustion, one might naturally

conclude that the bath was not altogether beneficial. There are those in such
delicate health that a cold bath at any time does not seem desirable; but
constant attention will secure perfect cleanliness, as the arms and chest can
be bathed one day, the abdomen and back another, the lower extremities
still another day, and so the whole body be compassed twice or more in the
space of a week.
In regard to the use of soap for bathing purposes, the finest, purest soaps
should be used, and these alone. It is generally supposed that pure, white
castile soap is the best. Various soaps are widely advertised, while some that
claim to be of the very best are not always up to the requisite standard. Yet
one can tell by a little experience what soap is of pure quality, and such
soap can be applied even to the face without injury.
In washing the face the hand is probably the best instrument, with the
thumb under the chin, the fingers turned toward the upper part of the face.
The manipulation should be against the direction of forming wrinkles,
wherever there is a tendency for wrinkles to appear. They can be held in
check by the judicious manipulation of the fingers in the opposite direction.
Wrinkles are created by obliterating the capillary circulation of the skin.
The manipulation increases the circulation, and so tends to overcome
wrinkles. The expression of the face may form wrinkles. I saw a girl the
other day on a street-car who continually held her eyebrows elevated,
forming longitudinal lines across her forehead, which had become as fixed
in her youthful face as if she had been seventy years of age. This was a lack
of care in the governing of the expression of the face, and also a lack in
keeping up the capillary circulation.
The care of the hands may be considered also while discussing the
question of bathing. The hands should be kept clean, the finger-nails
particularly cared for, as much of the beauty of the hands depends upon the
delicate appearance of the finger-nails. The manicure sets, which are at the
disposal of almost every young woman of the present day, are a very great
addition to toilet appurtenances. The curved scissors, the polisher, the blunt
ivory instrument for pushing back the fold of skin from the root of the nail,
all of these used but a few moments in the day will conduce to great beauty
in the hands, even for those who are doing housework.

PART II.
NEED OF SPECIAL KNOWLEDGE; SOME FORMS OF
AVOIDABLE
DISEASE, THEIR REMEDY AND PREVENTION.

CHAPTER X.ToC

CREATIVE POWER.

It is a wonderful thought that God shares His divine endowments with
man; that He, being our Father, hath bestowed upon us the power to
manifest His characteristics. We are proud of these Godlike powers. We talk
of our Godlike reason, and it is divine. We know that God reasons. We have
evidence of it in the material world about us, and when we use our reason
we are "thinking God's thoughts after Him."
God has the marvelous power of imagination, using that word in its
noblest sense. He has the power to conceive something in thought before it
actually exists. He must have seen all the glories of the material universe,
worlds upon worlds circling through space, moon and stars, the beauty of
forest and stream, of tinted flower and iridescent insect wing before they
were brought into being, and He had the power to create them. Man has this
wonderful gift of imagination. The inventor sees the machine in his thought
before he attempts to build it. The poet has the germ of his poem in mind,

even the rhythm and rhyme, before he puts it on paper. To the imagination
of the artist the canvas glows with color before his brush has touched it. The
sculptor, looking at the rough block of marble, sees within it the imprisoned
shape of beauty which his genius shall liberate to delight the world. The
musician hears, singing through his brain, the marvelous harmonies which,
put upon paper, shall entrance all hearers. Certainly this glorious gift of
imagination is Godlike. But it would be useless if it were not accompanied
by creative power. The inventor must be able to create as well as to imagine
the engine. The poet, the musician, the artist fails of deserving the name if
he cannot embody his thought in a form that others may recognize. He must
not only imagine, but create. In some degree every intelligent human being
has these powers. The housewife imagines her dinner before she prepares it,
and a well-cooked dinner, placed upon a well-appointed table with care and
taste, manifests something of the ability of the inventor and the artist. The
same may be said of her who designs and creates an elegant costume, or
arranges a room with taste and skill.
We appreciate the housewife's culinary creation; we admire the tasteful
creation of the dressmaker; we wonder at the glorious creation of artist or
musician; perhaps we even envy them. But food and clothing pass away and
are forgotten. Even the grand symphony, the beautiful picture, the graceful
statue, may pass into oblivion, and man forget that they ever existed.
But humanity is endowed with creative powers that are not transient. The
brains builded by the individual are transmitted to his posterity from
generation to generation.
God's greatest power is that of conferring life, sentient life. We might
have imagined that that marvelous power he would have kept for Himself
alone, but He has not done so. We have also the power to confer life. We
can call into existence other human beings, and endow them with the record
of our own lives, giving to them our form, our features, our measure of
vitality, our tendencies, our habits; and these human beings whom we have
thus called into life will never die. What diviner, more responsible gift
could God have conferred upon us than this? What more worthy of our
devout study? In this reverent attitude of mind let us study this gift of
creative power, learning what we may of its scope and purpose and the
material organs through which it works.

In your study of physiology in school you took up the organs of
individual life. You studied the framework of the body, its machinery, its
internal vital mechanism. You studied about digestion, nutrition, respiration,
elimination, and in this you learned nothing of physical differences between
individuals. All were considered as having the same organs, used in the
same way. Girls have the same number of bones as boys, the same number
of muscles, of vital organs. They sleep, breathe, eat, digest, grow, according
to the same plan. So far there seems no reason why there should be any
distinction of male and female. But as we come to study what is called
special physiology we discover physical differences and reasons for their
existence.
There are certain differences of form that are discernible at a glance. Men
are usually larger than women. They have heavier bones and bigger
muscles. They have broad shoulders and narrow hips, and have hair upon
the face. Women have smooth faces, more rounded outlines, narrower
shoulders and broader hips. In man the broadest part of the body is at the
shoulders, in woman at the hips. This is significant of a great fact which
will be manifest to you when you understand the functions of each sex.
Although each has the same general plan of individual life, there are special
functions which determine the trend of their lives. The man's broad
shoulders are indicative that he is to bear the heavy burdens of life—
struggles for material support—and woman's broad hips indicate that she is
to bear the heavier burden of the race.
When we come fully to understand the deep significance of sex, we shall
find in it a wonderful revelation of possibilities of development into a God-
likeness that will stir our hearts to their very depths.
Humanity so weak, so lacking in appreciation of his possibilities, so
groveling when he should soar, has been endowed with powers that give
him control over the destiny of the race. We may well exclaim, with Young:

"How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful is man!
How passing wonder He who made him such!
Who centred in his make such strange extremes!
From diff'rent natures, marvelously mix'd!
Connection exquisite of distant worlds!

Distinguish'd link in being's endless chain!
Midway from nothing to the Deity!"

CHAPTER XI.ToC

BUILDING BRAINS.

When you were born you were, as all babies are, deaf, dumb, blind, and
helpless, but immediately the external world began to act upon you. Then
began the process of mind-building. You began to experience sensations of
heat and cold, of hunger, of pain. The eyes began at once to recognize the
light, the ears to become aware of sounds. After a time, objects were made
clear to your sight and certain sounds were recognized. You learned your
mother's face and voice, and, little by little, became acquainted with all the
objects in the world of home. You began to use your limbs, and in this also
you were at work building your mind. We do not sufficiently realize that
every aimless movement of the baby has in reality a great purpose—that of
creating brainpower sufficient to enable the baby to control itself in all its
voluntary movements. We do not think that the fluttering hands and little
kicking feet are really building brains, but this is so. And all of life's
experiences have been building brain for you ever since.
Professor Elmer Gates tells us that only about ten per cent. of our brains
are cultivated, that there is a vast field of brain possibilities lying
undeveloped in each one of us, and that these possibilities are to be
developed through cultivation of the senses. So while I have been talking to
you of the care of your body, I have been advocating that which will in
reality develop mind.

We have learned that certain areas of brain govern certain movements of
body. For example, anatomists know not only where the general motor area
is located, but they can indicate the very spot where any special motor-force
is generated.
In the case of a mill girl who was subject to epilepsy and had pain in her
right thumb at each attack, it was decided to remove the part of the brain
which governed the motions of that thumb. This they could do because they
knew just where that motor-center lies, and yet they were able to take out
no more than that, for when the wound was healed she had full use of all of
her hand except the thumb.
We may know that by exercising a certain organ we are building up a
certain part of the brain. For example, the man who has cultivated his
hearing until he can hear sounds inaudible to ordinary men, has made for
himself more brain-cells in the hearing area. If he has cultivated his sight
assiduously, he has created more visual cells. If his touch has been
cultivated, his brain has received new touch sensation-cells. And Professor
Gates asserts that his mental ability has been thereby increased. You will be
interested in hearing of his experiments with animals and what he has
learned therefrom.
He says he has demonstrated that it is possible to give to an animal or a
human being more brains, and consequently a better use of the mental
faculties. During twelve months, for five or six hours a day, he trained dogs
to discriminate colors. He placed several hundred tin pans, painted different
tints, in the yard with the dogs. At one time he put their food under pans of
a certain tint. When they had learned to go at once to these pans for their
food, he changed the color. Again he arranged it so that they would receive
an electric shock if they touched pans of any color save the particular one.
They soon learned to avoid all the pans except those of this tint. So, by
many different methods, he trained them to recognize shades and tints until
they could discriminate between seven shades of red and as many shades of
green, and in many ways they manifested more mental ability than any
untrained dog. While these dogs were being trained, another group of dogs
were being deprived of the use of sight by being kept in a darkened room.
At the end of the year both groups of dogs were killed and their brains
dissected. He found that the dogs kept in the darkness had less than the

usual number of cells in the seeing areas, and the cells were smaller, while
the dogs which had been trained to discriminate between tints and shades of
color many times a day had a far greater number of larger and more
complex brain-cells in the seeing areas than any dog of that age and species
ever had before. "Therefore," says Professor Gates, "mind activity creates
organic structure."
Prof. Gates discovered other things of equal importance. He carried his
observations to successive generations, and found that the fifth generation
was born with a far greater number of brain-cells than could be found in
animals not descended from trained ancestors.
This is not only interesting, but of value. You will remember, in our talk
concerning your value, we spoke of your value to the race, and learned that
in cultivating yourself in any direction you were adding to the welfare of
future generations. That was only a general statement, and now you can see
how it can be. You see that if you can make more brains for yourself you
are also making more brains for your posterity. Or if you fail to make brains
for yourself, posterity will in like degree be defrauded.
Many people have the idea that we are obliged to be satisfied with our
dower of mental ability, and so are excusable for failing to reach as high a
level as some others. If we really believed that we could create brains we
would not sit down and sigh over small mental capacity, but go to work at
once in building minds for ourselves.
And first, we must learn to control our thoughts and make them go where
we send them. In too many cases thoughts wander here and there, with no
power governing and guiding them.
When we are sauntering in the wood we sometimes come upon
pathways, and we know at once that many, many footsteps of men or
animals have been needed to make the paths. If those who walked here had
wandered each in his own way, no path would have been made. One pair of
feet going often over the same ground will make a path. So the thoughts,
traversing the same areas of brain, will make records on the brain-cells
which we may call paths. Every time a thought follows the same line it
creates a deeper impression, and makes it easier to go over the same
territory again. In this way habits are formed. If the thoughts are good, the
habits will be good; if evil, the habits will be bad.

It is not hard to understand how much easier it is to form a habit than to
overcome it. The emotions, like the thoughts, create habits; but, more than
this, they create actual physical conditions.
It was my pleasure and profit once to have a conversation with Professor
Gates in his laboratory, and he showed me an instrument wherein he
condenses the breath. He then subjects it to a chemical reagent, and by the
precipitate formed he knows what was the mental condition of the
individual, whether he were angry, sorrowful or remorseful. In five minutes
after a fit of anger he finds the excretory organs beginning to throw out the
poison which anger has created. Only five minutes suffice to create the
poison, but half an hour is none too much to eliminate it.
Think what must be the bodily state of one who is constantly irritated or
angry, who feels jealousy, hatred, or revenge. With body poisoned by these
malevolent passions he cannot feel well, for his physical organs cannot do
good work unless fed by pure blood. Professor Gates finds that the
benevolent emotions create life-giving germs in the body; so, to love others
is not only helpful to them, but it also gives us new life.
Anger, worry, hatred, jealousy, are suicidal emotions. We cannot for our
own sakes afford to indulge in them, while from selfish reasons alone we
should be incited to kindness, generosity, sympathy, and love.

CHAPTER XII.ToC

YOU ARE MORE THAN BODY OR MIND.

We have talked of your body and your mind, but as yet not of yourself.
You are not body; you are not mind; but you possess both. You are spirit,

created by God, who is spirit; therefore you are His child. You may not have
thought much of this fact, but that has not changed the fact. No failure to
recognize God as your father changes His relationship to you. No conduct
of yours can make you any less His child.
"Well," you may say, "if that is so, what does it matter, then, what I do? If
disobedience or sin cannot make me less God's child, why should I be good
and obedient?" Because, dear heart, your conduct changes your attitude
towards Him. You might not know that I am your mother; you might know
it and choose to disobey my wishes; yet in both cases I should still be your
mother, and no more or less in one case than in the other. But you will have
no difficulty in understanding that in one case you would be a loving,
helpful, obedient daughter, a comfort and delight to me; in the other, a
disobedient, willful, unloving daughter, a care and trouble.
We are God's children, each of us, dependent on His love and bounty for
protection, food, friends, intellect, even life. Is it dignified and noble in us
to ignore and disobey Him? Indeed the most worthy and dignified thing we
can do is to recognize ourselves as God's children and be obedient. It is a
wonderful glory to be a child of God. It means that we have Godlike
powers. The children of human parents are like them in their capacities.
Children of God must have capacities that are Godlike.
This is true even of the most ignorant or degraded. They have in
themselves divine possibilities.
If you can get this thought fully engrafted into your consciousness, it
seems to me you can never willfully do wrong, can never condescend to a
mean or ignoble deed, because you recognize your divine inheritance, and
feel compelled by it to live truly, nobly.
Being children of God puts on us certain obligations towards Him, but it
also puts on God certain obligations towards us. "What!" you say; "God the
Infinite under obligations to man, the finite? The Creator under obligations
to the created?" Oh, yes.
We recognize the fact that human parents are under obligations to care
for their children, to protect them, to educate them, to give them
opportunities. Even such are the obligations of God towards His human
children, and He fulfills them. All our earthly blessings are from His hand.

Home, friends, shelter, food, are gifts of His love. He takes such minute
care of us that if for one second of time He would forget us, we should be
annihilated. He educates us. He does not send us away to a boarding-school
where we hear from Him but seldom, but He has a home-school where He
is both Father and Teacher, and His methods of instruction are divinely
wise.
The injudicious love of earthly parents often induces them to do for their
children things it would be far better to let the children do for themselves. I
once knew a boy of seven years, as intelligent as the ordinary child, who
had never been allowed to go down stairs alone in his life for fear he would
fall. This unwise care of the parents had resulted in the child's being timid,
fearful, and unable to care for himself. He would cry if he fell, and would
lie still sobbing until some one came to pick him up and quiet him with
caresses. At the same time I saw a boy of four who could run up and down
stairs, go to the store alone to make purchases, and who, if he fell, would
jump up quickly, saying, "O, that didn't hurt." Which child had been better
protected—the one who had been cared for by an overindulgent parent, or
the one who, by judicious stimulation to self-help, had learned to care for
himself?
God teaches us how to help ourselves, and circumstances of life which
we so often think hard and cruel are only the means by which we are being
trained to be strong. The things we call failure, worriment, and hardship, are
only the little tumbles by which we are learning to walk.
The heathen philosopher, Seneca, says: "God gives His best scholars the
hardest lessons." We know how proud we would feel if our school-teacher
would say, "This is a hard problem, but I believe you can solve it." We
would be stimulated to work night and day to justify his confidence in our
ability. But when a little trial comes in life we are quite apt to say, "God is
so hard in His dealings with me. Why should He be so unkind?" instead of
saying: "These hard things of life are a test of my scholarship, and are an
evidence of my Teacher's confidence in my ability."
I would like you to get this thought fixed in your mind so firmly that you
will feel sure that all circumstances of life are but lessons in God's great
school, and, rightly used, will be the means of promoting you to higher
grades.

No scholar wants to stay always in the primary department because it is
easy there. He welcomes each promotion, although he knows it means
harder lessons and new difficulties. He looks forward to college or
university with pride, even though lessons grow harder and harder.
God's school of earthly life has in it all grades of advancement. Will you
be a studious, courageous scholar and try to learn life's lessons well? It is
such a wonderful thing to be a child of God, for that means to be an heir of
God, an heir of His wisdom, His strength, His glory, His powers. "All
things are yours," says Paul; "life, death, things present and things to come,
all are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's."

CHAPTER XIII.ToC

SPECIAL PHYSIOLOGY.

With a feeling of reverence for ourselves we now take up the subject of
special physiology to learn what makes us women. In the study of general
physiology we find very few physical differences in the sexes, but when we
come to investigate what is called the reproductive system we find entire
difference of structure and of function.
Boys and girls in early childhood are much alike in their inclinations.
They both love activity—to run, to climb, to shout, to laugh, to play. If left
to themselves one sees not much more difference between boys and girls
than between different individuals of the same sex. But as they grow and
develop they begin to take on characteristics that indicate the evolution of
sex.

The boy grows rapidly in height, his voice breaks, the signs of a
moustache appear, he seems constrained and embarrassed in society, and
yet he begins to show more politeness towards women and more of an
inclination to be gallant to girls. He is becoming a man, and assumes
manlike airs. Often, too, he becomes restless and willful, hard to govern,
self-assertive, with an assumption of wisdom that provokes laughter from
his elders. The boy is passing through a serious crisis and needs much wise
and loving care. There are inner forces awakening that move him strangely;
he does not understand himself, neither do his friends seem to understand
him. Sometimes they snub and nag him, sometimes they tease and make fun
of him. In either case he does not find home a happy place, and frequently
leaves it to seek more sympathetic companionship elsewhere.
I once spoke to an audience of women and girls along this line, and
appealed to the mothers and sisters to be kind to the boys in their homes
who were between twelve and eighteen years of age, to remember that they
were passing through the critical period of transition from boyhood to
manhood, and to try and help them by sympathy and kindness. Some time
later, as I was on the train, a young lady came and sat down by me and said:
"I want to thank you for what you said to us the other day about boys. I
have a brother about sixteen, and we have done just as you said; we have
teased him about his moustache, and his voice, and his awkwardness, and
laughed the more because it seemed to touch him. He had gotten so that he
never would do anything for us girls, and we called him an old bear. Since I
heard you I concluded that we had done wrong and I would make a change,
so that evening I said kindly, 'Charlie, don't you want me to tie your cravat?
I'd like to, ever so much.' I shall never forget the surprised look he gave me.
It seemed as if he could not believe that I, his sister, wanted to do
something to please him, but as soon as he saw I really meant it he accepted
my offer with thanks, and since then it seems as if he could not do enough
for me. Really I have almost cried to think that so little a thing would make
him so grateful. I have invited him to go out with me several times, and he
seems so glad to go. Then I've begun to make things for his room—little
fancy things that I never thought a boy would care for—and he has
appreciated them so much. Why, he even stays in his room sometimes, now,
instead of going off with the boys. And the other day, when one of the boys
came to see him, I heard him say, 'Come up and see my room,' and the other
boy said, 'Well, I wish some one would fix up my room in such a jolly

fashion.' Really," said the girl, "if you have done nothing on your trip but
what you have done for me, in showing me how to be good to my brother, it
has paid for you to come."
I often think of this little incident when I see boys at this critical age who
are snubbed and teased just because they are leaving the land of boyhood to
begin the difficult climb up the slopes of early manhood towards the
grander height of maturity; and I wish all parents, sisters and older brothers
would manifest a sympathy with the boy who, swayed by inner forces and
influenced by outward temptation, is in a place of great danger.
The girl at this period is also passing through a crisis, but this fact is
better understood by her friends than is the crisis of the boy's life. Her
parents are anxious that she shall pass the crisis safely, and they have more
patience with her eccentricities. She, too, often shows nervousness,
irritability, petulance, or willfulness. She has headaches and backaches, she
manifests lassitude and weariness, and is, perhaps, quite changed from her
former self. She weeps easily or over nothing at all. She is dissatisfied with
herself and the whole world. She feels certain vague, romantic longings that
she could not explain if she tried. She inclines toward the reading of
sensational love stories, and if not well instructed and self-respecting may
be easily led into flirtations or conduct that later in life may make her blush
to remember. Certain physical changes begin to be manifest. She increases
rapidly in height, her figure grows fuller and more rounded, her breasts are
often sore and tender. Hair makes its appearance on the body, and altogether
she seems to be blossoming out into a fuller and riper beauty. She is
changing from the girl to the woman, and this is a matter of sex. At this
time the organs of sex, which have been dormant, awaken and take on their
activity, and it is this awakening which is making itself felt throughout her
whole organization.
We are sometimes apt to think that sex is located in certain organs only,
but in truth sex, while centralized in the reproductive organs, makes itself
manifest throughout the whole organization. I used to feel somewhat
indignant when I heard people talk of sex in mind, and I boldly asserted that
it did not exist, that intellect was neuter and had no reference to sex; but I
do not feel so now. When I see what an influence the awakening of sex has
upon the entire body and upon the character, I am led to believe that sex
inheres in mind as well. That does not mean that the brain of one sex is

either inferior or superior to the other; it means only that they differ; that
men and women see things from different standpoints; that they are the two
eyes of the race, and the use of both is needed to a clear understanding of
any problem of human interest.
You know that the true perspective of objects cannot be had with one eye
only, for each eye has its own range of vision, and one eye can see much
farther on one side of an object than the other can. You can try this for
yourself.
If, then, in viewing the vital problems of life we have the man's view
only or the woman's view only, we have not the true perspective. We cannot
say that either has superior powers of vision, but we can say that they differ,
as this difference is inherent in them as men and women, and not merely as
individuals.
Instead, then, of looking at sex as circumscribed, and perhaps as
something low and vulgar, to be thought of and spoken of only with
whispers or questionable mirth, we should see that sex is God's divinest gift
to humanity, the power through which we come into the nearest likeness to
Himself—the function by which we become creators and transmitters of our
powers of body, mind, and soul.
It is important that a young woman should understand her own structure
and the functions of all her organs, and so, with this feeling of reverence for
sex, we will begin this study.
The trunk of the body is divided into three cavities; the upper or thoracic
cavity contains the heart and lungs; the central or abdominal cavity contains
the organs of nutrition, the stomach, liver, bowels, etc.; the lower or pelvic
cavity contains two organs of elimination, the bladder and the rectum, and
also the organs of reproduction, or of sex. Between the outlet of bladder and
bowels is the inlet to the reproductive organs. This inlet is a narrow channel
called the vagina, and is about six inches in length. At the upper end is the
mouth of the womb or uterus. The words mean the same, but womb is
Anglo-Saxon and uterus is Latin, and as Latin is the language of science,
we will use that word. The uterus is the little nest or room in which the
unborn baby has to live for three-fourths of a year. It is a small organ, about
the size and shape of a small flattened pear. It is suspended with the small
end downwards, and it is hollow. It is held in place by broad ligaments that

extend outward to the sides, and by short, round ligaments from front to
back. These ligaments do not hold it firmly in place, for it is necessary that
it should be able to rise out of the pelvic into the abdominal cavity during
pregnancy, as the baby grows too large to be contained in the small pelvic
space.
On the posterior sides of the two broad ligaments are two small oval
organs which are called ovaries, meaning the place of the eggs.

CHAPTER XIV.ToC

BECOMING A WOMAN.

Perhaps you will remember that I once told you that all life is from an
egg, the life of the plant, the fish, the bird, the human being. In the book
"What a Young Girl Ought to Know" we discussed how all life originates in
an egg, and why there must needs be fathers as well as mothers. We found
that some eggs were small, were laid by the mothers in various places, and
then left to develop or to die. Others were larger, covered with a large shell,
and kept warm by the mothers sitting over them until the little ones were
hatched. Others were so small that they developed in the mother's body
until, as living creatures, they were born into the world. This is the case
with the human being. He is first an egg in the mother's ovary. When this
egg has reached a certain stage of development it passes from the ovary
through a tube into the uterus. If it meets there, or on its way there, the
fertilizing principle of the male, it remains there and develops into the child.
If it does not meet this principle, it passes out through the vagina and is lost.

But the eggs, or ova—which is the Latin word meaning eggs—do not
begin to ripen until the girl reaches the age of thirteen or fourteen, or, in
other words, until she begins to become a woman. This passing away of the
ovum (singular of ova) is called ovulation, and it occurs in the woman
about every twenty-eight days. The uterus is lined by a mucous membrane
similar to that which lines the mouth, and at this time of ovulation this
membrane becomes swollen and soft, and little hemorrhages, or bleedings,
occur for three or four days, the blood passing away through the vagina.
This is called menstruation.
Sometimes, when girls have not been told beforehand of the facts of
menstruation, they become greatly frightened at seeing this blood and
imagine that they have some dreadful disease. If they have no friend to
whom they can speak freely they sometimes do very injudicious things in
their efforts to remove that which to them seems so strange and
inexplicable. I have known of girls who washed their clothes in cold water
and put them on wet, and so took cold and perhaps checked the menstrual
flow, and as a consequence were injured for life, or may even have died
years after as a result of this unwise conduct.
The girl who is wisely taught will recognize in this the outward sign of
the fact that she has reached womanhood, that she has entered upon what is
called the maternal period of a woman's life, the period when it is possible
for her to become a mother.
This does not mean that she should become a mother while so young. It
only means that the sex organs are so far developed that they are beginning
to take up their peculiar functions. But they are like the immature buds of
the flower, and need time for a perfect development. If she understands this,
and recognizes her added value to the world through the perfecting of her
entire organism, she will desire to take good care of herself, and during
these years of early young womanhood to develop into all that is possible of
sweetness, grace, purity, and all true womanliness.
Girls who are not wisely taught sometimes feel that this new physical
function is a vexatious hindrance to their happiness. It is often accompanied
with pain, and its periodical recurrence interferes with their plans for
pleasure, and they in ignorance sometimes say, rebelliously, "O, I hate being
a woman!"

A young woman once came to consult me professionally. She was a well-
formed, good-looking girl, to all outward appearance lacking nothing in her
physical make-up; but she was now twenty-two and had never menstruated,
so she was aware that for some reason she was not like other girls. She
came to ask me to make an examination and find out, if possible, what was
wrong. She was engaged to be married, and knew that motherhood was in
some way connected with menstruation, and she thought it might be
possible that her physical condition would preclude the possibility of her
becoming a mother, and, if so, it would be dishonorable to marry. Upon
examination I discovered that all the organs of reproduction were lacking.
When I disclosed this fact to her she exclaimed, with sadness, "Oh, why
was I not made like other girls? I have heard them complain because they
were girls, but I think if they were in my place, and knew that they could
never have a home and children of their own, they would feel they had
greater reason then to complain."
I think so, too. We seldom think of the fact that upon sex depend all the
sweet ties of home and family. It is because of sex that we are fathers,
mothers and children; that we have the dear family life, with its
anniversaries of weddings and birthdays. It is through sex that the "desolate
of the earth are set in families," and love and generosity have sway instead
of selfishness. For this reason we ought to regard sex with reverent thought,
to hold it sacred to the highest purposes, to speak of it ever with purest
delicacy, and never with jesting or prurient smiles. I do not want you to
center your thought on the physical facts of sex, but I would like to have
you feel that womanhood, which is the mental, moral and physical
expression of sex, is a glorious, divine gift, to be received with solemn
thankfulness.
I want you, for the sake of a perfect womanhood, to take care of your
bodily health, and yet I do not want you to feel that a woman must of
necessity be a periodical semi-invalid.

CHAPTER XV.ToC

ARTIFICIALITIES OF CIVILIZED LIFE.

Menstruation is a perfectly physiological process and should be without
pain. Indeed, Dr. Mary Putnam Jacobi maintains that a woman ought to feel
more life, vigor and ambition at that period than at any other time. As a fact,
however, the majority of civilized women feel more or less lassitude and
discomfort, and many suffer intensely. Whenever there is actual pain at any
stage of the monthly period, it is because something is wrong, either in the
dress, or the diet, or the personal and social habits of the individual. We
certainly cannot believe that a kind and just God has made it necessary for
women to suffer merely because they are women, and the observation of
travelers among uncivilized peoples seems to indicate that where life is
conducted according to nature's laws, the limitations of sex are less
observable.
It is difficult for us to understand how very far our lives are from being
natural. Professor Emmett, a world-renowned specialist in diseases peculiar
to women, says: "At the very dawn of womanhood the young girl begins to
live an artificial life utterly inconsistent with normal development. The girl
of the period is made a woman before her time by associating too much
with her elders, and in diet, dress, habits and tastes becomes at an early age
but a reflection of her elder sisters. She may have acquired every
accomplishment, and yet will have been kept in ignorance of the simplest
features of her organization, and of the requirements for the preservation of
her health. Her bloom is often as transient as that of the hothouse plant,
where the flower has been forced by cultivation to an excess of
development by stunting the growth of its branches and limiting the spread
of its roots. A girl is scarcely in her teens before custom requires a change
in her dress. Her shoulder-straps and buttons are given up for a number of
strings about her waist and the additional weight of an increased length in
skirt is added. She is unable to take the proper kind or necessary amount of
exercise, even if she were not taught that it would be unladylike to make the

attempt. Her waist is drawn into a shape little adapted to accommodate the
organs placed there, and as the abdominal and spinal muscles are seldom
brought into play they become atrophied. The viscera are thus compressed
and displaced, and as the full play of the abdominal wall and the descent of
the diaphragm are interfered with, the venous blood is hindered in its return
to the heart."
Since Professor Emmett wrote this, public sentiment has changed, and it
is no longer unladylike for girls to exercise; but with this increased freedom
in custom should also come increased physical freedom through healthful
clothing that allows perfect use of every muscle, more especially of the
breathing muscles. I am sure you would rather pay out your money for that
which shall add to your health and real happiness than to pay physicians to
help you from suffering the just penalty of your own wrongdoing, and that
is why I am anxious to give you this needed instruction. I do not care to
have you study much about diseases, but I want you to understand very
fully how, through care of yourself, to prevent disease.

CHAPTER XVI.ToC

SOME CAUSES OF PAINFUL MENSTRUATION.

There should be no pain at menstruation, but that pain is quite common
cannot be denied. Let us look for other causes than are found in the dress.
One frequent cause is found in the ignorance of girls, and their
consequent injudicious conduct at the time of the beginning of sexual
activity. At this time of life the girl is often called lazy because she
manifests lassitude, and this is nature's indication that she should rest. The

vital forces are busy establishing a new function, and the energy that has
been expressed in bodily activity is now being otherwise employed. The girl
who has been properly brought up, whose muscles are strong, and whose
nervous supply is abundant, may have no need of especial care at this time,
but the average girl needs much judicious care, in order that her physical
womanhood shall be healthfully established. She should be guarded from
taking cold, from overexertion, from social dissipation, and especially from
mental excitement, and other causes of nervousness. I would like to call
your attention to the great evil of romance-reading, both in the production
of premature development and in the creation of morbid mental states
which will tend to the production of physical evils, such as nervousness,
hysteria, and a host of maladies which largely depend upon disturbed
nerves.
Girls are not apt to understand the evils of novel-reading, and may think
it is only because mothers have outlived their days of romance that they
object to their daughters enjoying such sentimental reading; but the wise
mother understands the effects of sensational reading upon the physical
organization, and wishes to protect her daughter from the evils thus
produced.
It is not only that novel-reading engenders false and unreal ideas of life,
but the descriptions of love-scenes, of thrilling, romantic episodes, find an
echo in the girl's physical system and tend to create an abnormal excitement
of her organs of sex, which she recognizes only as a pleasurable mental
emotion, with no comprehension of the physical origin or the evil effects.
Romance-reading by young girls will, by this excitement of the bodily
organs, tend to create their premature development, and the child becomes
physically a woman months, or even years, before she should.
In one case it became my duty to warn a girl of eleven, who was an
omnivorous reader of romances, that such reading was in all probability
hastening her development, and she would become a woman in bodily
functions while she ought yet to be a child. Her indications of approaching
womanhood were very apparent. By becoming impressed by my words she
gave up romance-reading, devoted herself to outdoor sports, to nature
studies, and the vital forces diverted from the reproductive system were
employed in building up her physical energy, her health improved, her

nervousness disappeared, and three years later her function of menstruation
was painlessly established.
A frequent cause of painful menstruation is found in habitual neglect of
the bowels. The evils of constipation are common to the majority of women
and girls, and the foundation is laid in childhood. Mothers are not careful
enough in instructing children in the need of care in this respect, and so the
habit is formed early in life, and the results are felt later.
If the bowels are not evacuated regularly the matter to be cast out of the
body accumulates in the rectum and large bowel, and by pressure the
circulation of the blood is impeded and congestion ensues. This extends to
all the pelvic organs; the uterus and ovaries thus congested will soon
manifest disease, and painful menstruation be the result.
One of the most frequent causes of pain is congestion produced by
displacements. People are very apt to think that the displacement of the
uterus is the main factor, but in my opinion it is a secondary condition, and
not the one to be first considered. The uterus is a small organ, not vital to
the individual, is very movable, and not sensitive, so that its displacement
alone could hardly be considered sufficient to cause so great a train of evils
as is frequently manifest. But the liver, stomach and bowels are large, vital
organs, and their displacement leads to greater consequences. You learned
at school that the bowels are over twenty feet in length, weigh as much as
twelve or fifteen pounds, are supported in a way that makes it possible for
them to sag into the abdominal cavity and press upon the pelvic organs. Dr.
Emerson, of the Boston School of Oratory, asserts that in most adults the
stomach and bowels are from two to six inches below their normal location;
and, as I have said before, Dr. Kellogg often finds the stomach lying in the
abdominal cavity as low down as the umbilicus. What has caused this
sagging of the abdominal viscera? They certainly must have been intended
to keep their place unless there has been some interference. We find just
such interference in the ordinary arrangement of the clothing. Tight waists
and bands, and skirts supported by the hips, are cause sufficient for these
displacements.
Just above the hips there is no bony structure to protect and support the
soft, muscular parts. They yield to pressure, and the internal viscera,
deprived of muscular support, sink until they rest on the pelvic organs. If,

when you look at your abdomen, you see depressions or hollows on each
side below the floating ribs, you may know that the bowels have sagged
down out of place. If you feel great weariness, backache, or a dragged down
feeling in standing or walking, you may know that the contents of the
abdomen are pulling on their attachments or pressing on the pelvic organs.
Thus displaced, circulation is hindered and the organs all become
congested, or filled with blood that moves very slowly. This congested
condition is increased at menstruation, and great pain may result.
It is well to have the counsel of some good, honest physician under such
circumstances, but should you be where it is not possible to have such
counsel, you may still be able to do something to help yourself. In the first
place, you can rearrange your clothing so as to relieve all the organs from
external weight or pressure, and, in the second place, you can support the
abdominal walls by applying pressure from below. I have known cases of
painful menstruation entirely relieved by simply supporting the bowels by a
bandage, thus relieving the uterus of pressure and allowing a free
circulation through all the internal organs.
A very simple and practical bandage can be made at home at almost no
cost, either in time or money. Buy some thin, cheap cotton flannel. Take
lengthwise of the goods a strip long enough to go around the body at the
hips, which will be a yard or a little over, and wide enough to fit from the
thighs up to the waist, perhaps eight inches. Put darts on the sides and in the
center of the back, to make it fit the figure. Make a couple of straps four
inches wide and half a yard long; cut off one end of each diagonally. Sew
these slanting ends to the lower side of the band about four inches from the
center, that is eight inches apart, and so that the short side of the strap will
be towards the center. Do not hem either band or straps, but overcast them;
then they will not feel uncomfortable.
In order to adjust the band properly it will be well to lie down on the
back upon the bandage with the knees raised. Press the hands low down
upon the abdomen and raise the contents. Repeat this several times; then
draw the bandage around, pin with safety pins, draw the straps up between
the limbs and fasten with safety pins to the bandage. The support thus given
is found to be very comfortable, and girls who have much trouble in
walking or standing during their menstrual periods would find this simple
bandage a great help at that time.

When the bandage is removed at night you should rub and manipulate the
abdominal walls so as to increase the circulation and stimulate in them a
better circulation and thus make you stronger.
By deep breathing in a proper standing attitude the abdominal viscera are
lifted upward, and if the firmness of the abdominal walls is at the same time
increased by exercise, the difficulties may be largely overcome. Some
exercises will be found in Chapter XXIII. which are calculated to
strengthen the walls and to lift the internal organs.
I wish to call your attention to a cause of displacement that is quite
generally overlooked, and that is, a wrong attitude.
Dr. Eliza Mosher has made a very thorough study of this matter, and she
says that the common habit of standing on one foot is productive of marked
deformities of both face and body and of serious displacements of internal
organs. It is seldom a girl or woman can be found whose body is perfectly
symmetrical. By standing on one foot, the hip and shoulder of one side
approach each other, and so lessen the space within the abdomen on that
side. On the other side a support has been removed for the contents of the
abdomen, and they sag down until they pry the uterus out of place and press
it over towards the side where there is less pressure. The broad ligament on
one side is stretched from use and on the other side shortened from disuse,
and so the uterus remains permanently dislocated.
Dr. Mosher thinks that standing continually with the weight on the left
foot is more injurious than bearing it on the right foot, for it causes the
uterus and ovaries to press upon the rectum and so produces a mechanical
constipation, especially during menstruation.
Wrong habits of sitting will produce the same results. If the girl sits at
school with one elbow on the desk, the head will be turned to the opposite
side and the spine will be inclined from the perpendicular, and a lateral
curvature be likely to result. If she carries her books always on the same
side, it will tend to increase the curvature. If she sits with both elbows
supported, her shoulders will be pushed up. If her body is twisted as she
sits, a strain comes upon the muscles, and some ligaments will be
lengthened and others shortened, thus producing a lateral curvature.

To sit "on the small of the back," that is, slipping down in the chair,
bracing the shoulders against the chair-back, tends to injure the nerves by
pressure, and also to create a posterior curvature of the spine.
Does it not seem unfortunate that we should allow ourselves even to form
such wrong habits of sitting and standing? And now we ask, How shall we
know when we are in a correct attitude?
We have comparatively few correct examples to imitate. I notice people
everywhere, and I see that old and young stand incorrectly. The head is
poked forward, the shoulders are rounded, the chest is flattened, and the
curve in the lower part of the back is straightened. The whole figure is out
of balance, and therefore not harmonious. Not only is the beauty of the
figure destroyed, but the internal organs are displaced. Many a mother who
sees her daughter thus growing round-shouldered keeps telling her to throw
her shoulders back; but to follow this command only increases the
difficulty. The shoulders are not primarily at fault, but the trouble originates
in non-use of the front waist muscles. These muscles, weakened by disease
because of tight clothing and corset steels, and also by cramped positions in
school or at work, refuse to hold the body erect, and it "lops" just at this
point. This "lopping" disturbs the harmonious relation of the weights of
shoulders, abdomen, head, and the large lower gluteal muscles with which
nature has cushioned the lower part of the body, and so they are obliged to
readjust themselves to balance each other, and the awkward, ungainly,
unhealthful posture results.
What is needed is to restore the right relation of these weights and all will
again be harmonious. Do not interfere with the shoulders, but straighten the
front of the body by elevating the chest and raising the head until it is
supported directly on the spine, letting the shoulders take care of
themselves. If the abdomen is now held back and the gluteal muscles raised,
the beautiful curves of the spine will be restored, the shoulders will be
straightened, and the internal organs will have a chance to resume their
natural position.
A very easy way of finding out if you have the correct attitude is to place
your toes against the bottom of the door. Now bring your chest up to touch
the door, and throw the lower part of the spine backward so that there will
be a space between the abdomen and the door. Place the head erect, with the

chin drawn in towards the neck, and you will have very nearly the correct
attitude. It may seem a little tiresome at first, because you will be apt to
hold yourself in position with needless tension of muscles, but you will
soon learn to relax the unnecessary tension, and then you will find the
position the most comfortable possible. You can walk farther without
fatigue, and stand longer without backache, because the body is placed in
the attitude in which all parts occupy their designed relation to each other.
One very important fact is that in the wrong attitude the abdominal
organs crowd down into the pelvis, while in the correct position they are
supported and kept from sagging, so that the matter of a correct attitude is
not only a matter of beauty, but also of health.
In sitting, also, the most comfortable posture is the most healthful; that is,
with the body squarely placed on the seat, and equally supported upon the
pelvis—not leaning back against the chair, unless the chair should chance to
be so constructed that it supports the lower part of the back and keeps the
body erect.

CHAPTER XVII.ToC

"FEMALE DISEASES."

We hear a great deal in these days of "female diseases," by which is
meant the displacements of the organs of the reproductive system; that is, of
the uterus, ovaries, etc. These displacements are many, for the uterus may
not only drop down out of place, but it may be tipped towards one side or
the other, to the front or the back; or it may be bent upon itself in various
directions. These different displacements cause much pain, and often result

in ulcerations and profuse discharges which are known as the "whites," or
scientifically as leucorrhea.
I only mention these things incidentally, so that I may call your attention
to the things you may do to prevent them.
A great many girls and women are spending large sums of money in
being doctored for these difficulties who need not suffer with them at all if
they had known how to dress healthfully; and many are bearing much
anxiety over the possibility of becoming sufferers with these distressing
diseases who could have their burden of fear removed by the knowledge
that "female diseases," in the great majority of cases, are the results of
wrong habits of dress and life. Leucorrhea is not a disease. It is a symptom
of abnormal conditions, and to be cured it is needful that the conditions
shall be understood.
Dr. Kellogg says, "Leucorrhea may result from simple congestion of the
bloodvessels of the vaginal mucous membrane, due to improper dress. It
may also be occasioned by taking cold, and by a debilitated condition of the
stomach."
Leucorrhea is merely an abnormal increase of a normal secretion. All
mucous membrane secretes mucus in small quantities—enough to keep the
membrane moist. When from any cause this secretion is increased, we have
what is called a catarrhal condition. As all cavities that communicate with
the air are lined with mucous membrane, this catarrhal condition may exist
in the nose, the throat, the eyes, the ears, the bowels, or the reproductive
organs, and will be named according to the location.
A natural increase of this secretion takes place just before and after
menstruation, and should occasion no anxiety, but if continued during the
remainder of the month, especially if very profuse, of offensive odor, or
bloody in character, it needs the attention of the skilled physician.
I do not wish to make you think constantly of yourself as diseased, and so
I do not give you directions as to local self-treatment. Many symptoms can
be overcome by general care of the health-habits of the girl, and if they do
not yield to this general care it is better to consult a responsible physician
than to tamper with yourself.

And here let me give you a word of warning. If you need medical care,
never consult the traveling doctors who advertise to do such wonderful
things. They charge big fees and give a little medicine and then move on,
and you have no redress if they have not accomplished all that they have
promised. They live off the gullibility of people. Again, never take patent
medicines. Wonderful discoveries, favorite prescriptions and the like may
be harmless, and they may not. And even if they are, how can you judge
that they are suited to your special case? That they cured some one else is
not proof that they will benefit you, and you run a risk by taking them as an
experiment. One very serious danger in the taking of patent medicines is the
fact that they are so largely alcoholic in composition, and girls and women
have all too often been led into the alcohol habit and become habitual
drunkards through taking some advertised remedy.
Another has correctly said: "If you need the consultation and advice of a
physician go to your family physician, or, if you prefer, go to some other
physician; but always select one whose moral character and acknowledged
ability render him a suitable and safe adviser in such a time of need. Above
all things avoid quacks. The policy they pursue is to frighten you, to work
upon your imagination, and to make such alarming and unreliable
statements as will induce you to purchase their nostrums and subject
yourself to such a series of humiliations and impositions as will enable
them to pilfer your purse and without rendering you in return any value
received, but likely leave you in a much worse condition than they found
you."
You will probably be advised by your personal friends, who may know of
your ailments, to take hot douches, and perhaps you may wonder why I do
not prescribe them for leucorrhea, and kindred difficulties.
I do not commend them for the fact that I do not want you to be turning
your constantly anxious thought towards yourself in these matters. If you
need such treatment, let it be prescribed by your physician, who knows
exactly your condition. As far as possible turn your thoughts from the
reproductive system. Take care of your general health, dress properly, obey
all the rules of hygiene in regard to diet, sleep, bathing, special cleanliness,
and care, and then forget as far as possible the physical facts of
womanhood.

An excellent addition to your general bathing can be taken once a week
in the form of a sitz bath, which is effective for cleanliness, and also for the
reduction of congestion. If you have no sitz bath-tub, an ordinary wash-tub
can be made to answer by raising one side an inch or two by means of some
support. Have the water at a comfortable temperature, say about 98 degrees,
and if you have no thermometer you can gauge the heat by putting in three
gallons of cold water and add one gallon of boiling water. Sit down in the
tub and cover yourself with a blanket. In about ten minutes add by degrees a
gallon of cold water. Remain sitting a minute or two longer, then rub dry.
Many people are afraid to use cold water after hot, in bathing, for fear
they will take cold, but that is just the way to prevent such a result from the
hot bath. The hot water has caused all the pores on the surface of the body
to open, and the bodily heat is rapidly lost through this cause. The cold
water, quickly applied, causes the pores to close, leaves the skin in a tonic
condition, and conserves the bodily heat. One should never take a hot bath
without following it with a quick cold application to the surface. It should
continue, however, but for a moment.
This kind of a bath is very useful for all chronic congestions of the
abdominal and pelvic viscera, such as piles, constipation, painful
menstruation, leucorrhea, or other affections of the reproductive organs. It
is also very helpful in headaches due to congestion of the brain. If there is
too little blood in the brain it might produce wakefulness, but when the
brain is too full of blood this bath tends to produce sound and refreshing
sleep.
A foot bath may be taken at the same time as the sitz bath, and in this
case the water should be warmer than that in the sitz bath, and as the person
rises from the sitz bath she should step into it, so that her feet will get the
tonic effect of the cold water.
The average age at which menstruation first appears is fourteen, but some
girls menstruate as early as eleven, while others may not develop till some
years later. Frequently, when the girl does not manifest this symptom of
womanly development, the mother becomes anxious and begins to give
forcing medicines. She knows that girls often die with consumption in their
early young womanhood, and has heard that it was because they did not
physically develop, and she fears that such danger threatens her daughter,

and imagines that if something can be done to "bring on her courses," as she
expresses it, the danger will be averted.
In this case she has reversed cause and effect. The consumptive girl did
not menstruate because she had not the vitality to do so. The consumption
was the cause, the non-menstruation the effect. To produce hemorrhage
from the reproductive system by strong, forcing medicines is only to
increase the danger. The only thing to do is to improve the general health,
and if the girl can increase in strength until she has more vital force than
suffices to keep her alive, the function that is vital—not to her, but to the
race—will establish itself.
The failure of the menses to appear at the average age may be due merely
to a slow development, and in this case there is nothing to do but wait. If
the girl seems well, if she has no backache, no headache, no general
lassitude, no undue nervous symptoms, the mere non-appearance of the
menses need occasion no alarm. If, however, she has these symptoms, it is
an evidence that nature is attempting to establish the function and is
hindered either by general lack of vitality or by some local condition, and in
either case the giving of forcing medicines would be a mistake. The weekly
sitz bath would do no harm as a semi-local measure. All proper precautions
should be observed as to maintenance of general health and mental serenity,
and if these do not prove sufficient the physician should be consulted.
In the case I mentioned, where the reproductive organs were lacking, the
girl had been subjected to a long course of home medication which had
proven disastrous to her digestion, and yet, as will be readily understood,
had not resulted in the establishment of a function that is dependent upon
organs which, in this case, did not exist.
Sometimes there are slight mechanical hindrances which can only be
determined by the physician, though their presence will be indicated by the
symptoms of menstruation without the accompanying sanguineous
discharge. In these cases the home medication is dangerous. If the girl
regularly has symptoms of approaching menstruation, with pain and
bloating, and these subside without flow, it would be wise to consult the
physician instead of resorting to domestic remedies or letting the matter go
on without attention.

Quite frequently the first appearance of menstruation is followed by
weeks or even months of freedom from its reappearance. In these cases no
alarm need be felt as long as the general health is not affected. Again, there
may be suspension of the function from change of surroundings. Girls who
go away to school often suffer from irregularity. I have known of a case
where the girl never menstruated during the school year, but was perfectly
regular during vacations.
These cases may be accounted for by the nervous strain, the using up of
vital forces in mental effort to such degree that there is nothing left with
which to carry on the menstrual function. In all such cases it is wise to
watch carefully the general health, and if all functions are not properly
conducted, to reduce the strain until the vitality is able to keep all functions
in order.
Girls are sometimes disturbed because the flow is scanty, and think they
should do something to increase the amount. It is no doubt true that profuse
menstrual flow is the result of our artificial lives. If we lived more normally
we should have naturally a scanty menstrual flow. Therefore if a girl has
good health and no monthly pain and the flow is scanty, she may consider
herself as more nearly in a normal state, and be thankful.
If, however, the menses are suddenly less than normal it denotes a
suppression, which may be the result of cold, exhaustion of body, weariness
of nerves, mental anxiety, or disturbance of the emotions.
If gradual suppression occurs, accompanied by loss of health, it indicates
some constitutional difficulty or local trouble which demands professional
counsel.
Profuse menstruation is also a relative term, as there is no definite
standard as to amount of menstrual flow, nor the length of time it should
continue. The profuseness must be measured by the condition of the
individual. Where health seems fully maintained there would appear no
cause for anxiety. But if there is a marked increase over the amount usual
for the individual, if great weakness and prostration is produced, either at
the time or afterward, it may be called profuse, and the cause may be either
debility, that is weakness, or plethora, which means fullness. If from the
latter, there will be throbbing headache, pain in the back, and general signs

of fever. If from debility, there will be pallor, weakness, and perhaps an
almost continuous flow.
As may be imagined, the treatment in the two cases will differ. The full-
blooded girl should be put on a plain, unstimulating diet, with plenty of out-
door exercise during the month, but about twenty-four hours before the
flow is expected she should have complete mental and physical rest. She
should remain in bed, and apply cold wet cloths over the abdomen and
between the thighs for an hour at a time, with intervals of at least one-half
hour between the applications. The bowels should be freed from all fecal
matter, and cool, small enemas be given two or three times a day. If these
simple measures do not avail, the doctor should be consulted.
The pale and debilitated girl needs to rest. Sometimes, if hemorrhage
continues almost from one period to the next, she should remain in bed
even after the flow seems checked. The great desideratum is to build up the
general health, not by tonics, which are usually only stimulants, but by the
judicious observance of the laws of health. This will, in many cases, call for
the advice of the physician, who can see and study the patient and her
special conditions. It is not safe to trust to book-doctoring.

CHAPTER XVIII.ToC

CARE DURING MENSTRUATION.

I have said that I do not want you to think yourself a semi-invalid and so
be "fussy" about yourself, but I have also said that I want you to take care
of yourself at all times, and especially during your menstrual periods. How
can you make these ideas agree with each other?

I know that many writers say that a girl should spend one day each month
in bed, or at least lying down; that there are some things that should always
be forbidden to girls, simply because they are girls, such as running up and
down stairs. These wholesale restrictions make girls rebellious at their
womanhood. I simply want you to use good sense at all times in your care
of yourself.
Knowing the fact that just before and during menstruation the uterus is
heavier than at other times, because engorged with blood, and remembering
that it is loosely suspended, it is easy to understand that long walks or
severe exercise at the menstrual period will more easily cause it to sag, and
this sagging becoming permanent may cause pain, backache, and other
discomforts. Therefore, having good sense, you will not plan to take long
rides or walks or do any severe exercise. At the same time moderate
exercise in proper clothing will tend to relieve pelvic congestion by
equalizing the circulation, and if the clothing is properly adjusted and the
muscles are strong and well-developed, an ordinary amount of physical
activity may be beneficial rather than harmful.
Girls are so often told that they must not walk at their monthly periods,
must not study, must not ride, etc., etc., that it really is no wonder that they
feel it a very undesirable thing to be a woman. My observation leads me to
believe that if girls from earliest childhood were dressed loosely, with no
clothing suspended on the hips, if their muscles were well developed
through judicious exercise, they would seldom find it necessary to be semi-
invalids at any time. In fact, we do sometimes find a young woman who has
no consciousness of physical disturbance during menstruation. She can
pursue her usual avocations without hindrance, and finds her physical
womanhood no bar to any enjoyment.
This is as it should be; but as girls have not all been well developed and
properly dressed, we cannot assert that all girls can be indifferent to
physical conditions at this time. If a girl is well, has no pain or discomfort,
then I would say, let her use good common sense in the ordering of her
daily life and give the matter no special or anxious thought. If she has pain
or uneasiness, let her govern her life accordingly, using care, taking some
rest at the time of the menses; but, above all things, let her arrange her
clothing at all times so as to secure for herself absolute freedom of
movement. Then let her, during the intervals between the menstrual periods,

endeavor by judicious exercise to build up strong muscular structure around
the vital organs, such structure as will support the viscera where they
belong, and in time she will probably find herself growing free from
menstrual pain.
During the painful periods resulting from congestion it is often advisable
to keep the recumbent position, and to use heat both externally and
internally. However, I would advise never using alcoholic beverages. Their
apparent usefulness lies principally in the hot water with which they are
administered, and the danger of forming the alcohol habit is too great to
justify their use.
There are cases of nervous pain at menstruation that are aggravated by
heat and diminished by cold. I knew such a case where a girl at school,
suffering with menstrual pain, alarmed teachers and friends by wringing
towels out of cold water and laying them over her abdomen. But the alarm
subsided when they saw that the pain soon passed away under the cold
application. The girl was one in whom there were no local congestions, but
great nervous exhaustion and heat always increased her sufferings, while
cold allayed.
I have read that a woman should not bathe or change her underwear
while menstruating. I cannot see how soiled clothing can be more healthful
than that which is clean; and if well-aired, I should no more object to your
putting on clean underwear than to your changing your dress. Most
especially would I advise a frequent change of napkins, in order to remove
those which are soiled from their irritating contact with the body. A full bath
during menstruation would, for most people, be unadvisable, but the
cleansing of the private parts is imperative. For this, tepid water, with good
soap, may be used daily or oftener. Other parts of the body may be rubbed
with a wet cloth, followed by vigorous, dry rubbing. Cleanliness at all times
is certainly a mark of refinement.
You should use good sense and not run out in thin slippers on wet or cold
ground; but if your feet get wet through accident, keep in motion until you
can make a change of shoes and stockings. There is little danger from wet
feet to those in good health, if they keep in vigorous motion.
As to other rules, they are those that pertain to the care of health at all
times: loose clothing, deep breathing, wholesome food, plenty of sleep,

sunlight, pure air, exercise according to your strength, and, above all,
serenity of mind, accepting the fact of physical womanhood, together with a
recognition of its sacredness and dignity.
As a minor item, I would suggest that the napkins be fastened to straps
that go over the shoulder and are then joined together in front and back to
an end piece, on each of which a button is sewn. Buttonholes in the napkins
at the corners, diagonal from each other, will make them easily attached or
removed. The napkins should be of a material that is quickly absorbent of
the flow. Cheesecloth is cheap, and can be burned or otherwise disposed of
after using. It may be protected by an outer strip of unbleached muslin
which is almost water-proof.
A very comfortable way of arranging napkins that are to be used from
time to time is to take a piece of linen or cotton diaper sixteen inches
square. About three inches from one end, make on each side an incision
four inches long. Fold this strip in the middle lengthwise, and sew together
up to the end of the incisions. This makes a band with a sort of pocket in the
middle. Hem the cut edges. Fold the napkin over, four inches on each side,
that is as deep as the incisions. Then fold crosswise until you can enclose
the whole in the pocket in the band. This makes a thick center and thin ends
by which to attach the napkin to the suspender.
I hold that mental serenity is one of the essentials of healthful menstrual
periods, and this cannot be had if the mind is continually troubled and the
thought centered on the physical condition. I would be glad to have your
mind freed from the ideas of sex matters as far as possible. It is a scientific
fact that thinking continually of an organ tends to disturb that organ. I know
a man who was so afraid of heart disease that he felt of his pulse every few
minutes and kept a stethoscope on the head of his bed to listen to his heart
in the night. I would have been surprised had he not had heart trouble.

CHAPTER XIX.ToC

SOLITARY VICE.

As the reproductive system awakens to activity it naturally attracts the
attention of the girl, and an effort should be made to call her thoughts to
other themes.
As I have said before, the reading of sensational love stories is most
detrimental. The descriptions of passionate love scenes arouse in the reader
a thrill through her own sexual organism that tends to increase its activity
and derange its normal state. Girls often mature into women earlier than
they should, because through romances, through jests of associates in
regard to beaus and lovers, and through indulgence in sentimental fancies
their sexual systems are unduly stimulated and aroused. This stimulation
sometimes leads to the formation of an evil habit, known as self-abuse. The
stimulation of the sex organs is accompanied with a pleasurable sensation,
and this excitement may be created by mechanical means, or even by
thought. Many girls who are victims of this most injurious habit are
unaware of its dangers, although they instinctively feel that they do not
want it known. Others who would not stoop to a mechanical exciting of
themselves do so through thoughts, and do not know that they are just as
truly guilty of self-abuse as the girl who uses the hand or other mechanical
means.
The results of self-abuse are most disastrous. It destroys mental power
and memory, it blotches the complexion, dulls the eye, takes away the
strength, and may even cause insanity. It is a habit most difficult to
overcome, and may not only last for years, but in its tendency be
transmitted to one's children.
If you have from the first thought nobly of yourself, you will have fallen
into no such debasing habit. But if, through ignorance, you have acquired it,
how shall you overcome it?
I should hesitate to write more on this subject did I not know that many
girls fall victims to this evil through ignorance, and many who thus fall

could and would have been saved had they been rightly instructed. I
therefore desire that you shall be wise.
Every normal function of the body is attended with a pleasurable
sensation. We enjoy eating, seeing, walking. Odors bring sensations which
are agreeable, the sense of touch may give pleasure, and as we enjoy these
sensations in fact, so we may enjoy them in memory or in imagination. We
can recall the beauty of the rose, the perfume of the mignonette, the flavor
of the orange, or we can imagine new combinations of these delights. We
feel joy or grief through reading vivid descriptions, or we can ourselves
create imaginary scenes in which we are actors, who suffer or enjoy.
The reproductive system is the seat of great nervous susceptibility, and
the excitation of these nerves gives a pleasurable sensation. This excitation
may be thought a local mechanical irritation or it may be mental. In little
children it may be caused by lack of cleanliness of the external organs. An
irritation is produced, and an attempt to allay this by rubbing produces an
agreeable feeling, which may be repeated until the evil habit of self-abuse is
formed.
Sometimes constipation, by creating a pelvic congestion, will have the
same result. Sometimes clothing which is too small may, by undue pressure
on the parts, call the thought of the child to these organs, and in an attempt
to remove the pressure by pulling the clothing away the habit may be
begun.
Sometimes the tiny pin-worms in the rectum may wander into the vagina,
and the little girl feel a constant annoyance, which rubbing allays
temporarily, but which results in the evil habit of the use of the hands to
produce an agreeable sensation. Thus through avoidable causes the evil
habit may be acquired. Then it may be taught by one thus learning it to
another who, without this instruction, would never have acquired it.
But new dangers arise as the girl approaches the age when the
reproductive system begins to take on the activity that indicates
approaching womanhood. The normal congestion of the parts causes a
hitherto unknown consciousness of sex, and unless she is warned she may
at this period acquire the habit without knowing its evils.

All functions necessary to the preservation of the individual life are
attended with pleasure, and so are those which are for the continuation of
the species. While the emotion may be pleasurable, it is at the same time the
most exhausting, that can be experienced. We see that in some forms of
animal existence parenthood is purchased at the expense of the life of the
parent; and while in the human being the procreative act does not kill, it
exhausts, and no doubt takes from the vital force of those exercising it. One
can feel justified to lose a part of her own life if she is conferring life upon
others, but to indulge in such a waste of vital force merely for pleasure is
certainly never excusable, and least excusable of all is the arousing of
pleasurable emotions by a direct violation of natural law.
The only natural method of arousing a recognition of sexual feeling is as
God has appointed in holy marriage, and the self-respecting girl feels that
no approach of personal familiarity is either right or proper. But it may be
that she does not know that feelings may be awakened by the imagination
which are as wrong morally as, and more injurious physically than, actual
deeds, and so may allow her mind to revel in fancies that would shock her
as actualities.
I received a letter not long ago from a young woman who most
emphatically asserted that she would never, never, never permit
familiarities, and then most innocently says, "but it wouldn't be wrong to
imagine yourself enjoying the embrace of some certain one, would it?"
It is just this idea that there is no wrong in thought that weakens virtue's
fortress and renders it easily demolished. Girls who would shrink from use
of mechanical means to arouse sexual desire will permit themselves to revel
in imaginary scenes of love-making with real or unreal individuals, or in
mental pictures which arouse the spasmodic feelings of sexual pleasure, and
yet be unaware that they are guilty of self-abuse.
Sexual feeling in itself is not base, but it can be debased either in thought
or in deed. Rightly considered, it is the indication of the possession of the
most sacred powers, that of the perpetuation of life.
"Passion is the instinct for preservation of one's kind, the voice of the life
principle, the sign of creative power." These last four words open before us
a wonderful field of thought. "Creative power!" What does that mean? Is
creative power limited to reproduction of kind? Do you not create when you

work out with brain some idea and then embody it in some visible form?
Worth is said to create an artistic dress, the actor creates his part in the play,
the musician creates the arrangement of harmonies which are represented in
musical signs, and in the same sense you may be in a myriad of ways a
creator.
With the beginning of activity of sexual life in yourself came increased
development and new energy, beauty, and power, and the preservation and
right use of that life will continue to be a source of power. "When the signs
of this creative power come throbbing and pulsing in every fiber, it only
shows that one has more and greater ability to create than ever before. One
knows by this that she can now do greater work than she has done or is
doing;" so says one writer.
Is it not a beautiful thought that this feeling, which we have supposed we
must fight as something low, is in reality the stirring of a divine impulse
which we can control and govern and make to serve us in all high and noble
deeds?
If you hold such noble thoughts in your heart concerning yourself, you
will need no threatenings to keep you from self-debasement and self-
defilement. You will not need to be told of the loss of physical strength or of
beauty, of memory or of reason, through evil habits of solitary vice, for they
will have no temptation for you, even as you do not need threats of police
and prisons to keep you from stealing, because honesty is the active and
guiding principle of your life.
But supposing you have already acquired the evil habit and are now
awakened to the wrong you are doing yourself; you observe the lack of
lustre in the eye, the sallow, blotched complexion; you realize your loss of
nerve-power manifested in cold and clammy hands, backache, lassitude,
irritability, lack of memory, and inability to concentrate thought. What shall
you do to overcome and to gain control of yourself? The question is a
serious one, for no habit is more tyrannical than the dominion of
unrestrained sexual desire. Its victims often fight for years, only to be
conquered at last. If there was no cure but in fighting, I should feel that the
case was almost hopeless.
The very first thing to do is to change the mental attitude in regard to the
whole matter of sex; to hold it in thought as sacred, holy, consecrated to the

highest of all functions, that of procreation. Recognize that, conserved and
controlled, it becomes a source of energy to the individual. Cleanse the
mind of all polluting images by substituting this purer thought; then go to
work to establish correct habits of living in dress, diet, exercise, etc. See to
it that there are no such causes of pelvic congestions as prolapsed bowels,
caused by tight clothing or constipation; keep the skin active; and, above
all, keep the mind healthfully occupied.
The victim of self-abuse has, through the frequent repetition of the habit,
built up an undue amount of brain that is sensitive to local irritation of the
sex-organs or to mental pictures of sex-pleasure. She must now allow this
part of the brain to become quiescent, and she should go to work to build up
other brain centers. Let her train her sight by close observation of form,
color, size, location. Let her cultivate her sense of hearing in the study of
different qualities of sound, tone, pitch, intensity, duration, timbre; her
sense of touch, by learning to judge with closed eyes of different materials,
of quality of fiber, of the different degrees of temperature, of roughness or
smoothness, of density; in fact, let her endeavor to become alert, observant,
along all the lines of sense-perception. Let her study nature, leaf-forms,
cloud-shapes, insects, flowers, birds, bird-songs, the causes of natural
phenomena; and, above all, let her keep out of the realm of the artificial, the
sentimental, the emotional, and, holding firmly to the thought that creative
energy is symbolized by desire and can be dignified and consecrated to
noblest purposes, she will find herself daily growing into a stronger, more
beautiful self-control.

CHAPTER XX.ToC

BE GOOD TO YOURSELF.

I witnessed the other day a parting between two men. The elder, as he
took the younger by the hand, said, "Good-by, my boy; be good to
yourself;" and the younger responded, heartily, "Oh, there is no danger but
I'll be that." I wondered, as I saw the laughing face, so full of the indications
of the love of pleasure, if he really would be good to himself, or if he would
interpret it to mean to indulge himself in all kinds of sensuous gratification.
It is a great thing to be truly good to one's self, and I would give the
injunction with the highest ideal. Be good to your real self with that true
goodness that sees the end from the beginning, that realizes the tendency of
certain forms of pleasure, and that claims the privilege of being master of
the senses, and not their slave.
"Well," you say, rather deprecatingly, "you can't expect young people to
act as staid and wise as you old folks. We want some fun." So you do, and
that is perfectly right. You should want fun and have fun. All I ask is that
you shall try to understand what real, true fun is.
I have seen young folks pull the chair from under some one "for fun,"
and the result was pain and perhaps permanent injury to the object of the
joke.
I have known young men to imagine they were having "fun" when they
went on a spree, to get "gloriously drunk," as they phrased it. You can see
no fun in this. You realize that it is a most serious tragedy, with not an
element of real fun in it, involving, as it does, the loss of health, the risking
of life, the possibility of crime, the heart-break of friends, and perhaps even
death. It is altogether a wrong idea of fun.
I have known girls in the secrecy of their rooms to smoke cigarettes "for
fun," and in that I am sure that you see no amusement. It was a lowering of
the standard of womanhood; it was tampering with a poison; it was
something to be ashamed of, rather than something to call fun.
I have known young men and women to enter into flirtations "for fun." I
knew a girl whose chief delight seemed to be in getting young men in love
with her, only to cast them aside when tired of their adoration. She called
this fun, but it was cruelty. In olden times men amused themselves by
throwing Christians to wild beasts and watching them while being torn to

pieces. This was their idea of fun, and the flirt's idea of amusement seems to
be of the same order. She plays with the man as the cat with the mouse, and
experiences no pangs of conscience when, torn and bleeding in heart, she
tosses him aside for a new victim.
There are other young people who would not enter into such serious
flirtations, and yet are unduly familiar with each other. They mean nothing
by their endearments and familiarities, and neither will suffer any pangs
when the pleasant intimacy is ended. Can we not call this innocent fun?
They have indulged in some unobserved hand-pressures, or a few stolen
kisses; but neither believed the other to mean anything serious. It was only
fun; what harm could there be in that?
Many girls to-day are reasoning thus, and many of these may pass
through the experience without loss of reputation; they may subsequently
marry honorably, and become respected and beloved mothers. But ask any
of these girls, in her mature years, when her own daughters are growing up
around her, if she wants them to pass through the same experiences. I once
knew a beautiful young woman who thought it was fun to have these
familiar intimacies with young men, because, as she said, she knew how far
to go. I saw her in her maturity, with daughters of her own, and heard her
say that when she recalled her own girlish escapades, even in the darkness
of the night the blushes would rush over her from head to foot, and in
heartfelt agony she would say to herself, "Oh, I wonder if my girls will ever
do so?"
It was fun to her in her girlhood; it was shame to her in her mature
remembrance; it was agony when she saw it possible to her own children.
True fun is fun in anticipation, fun in realization, fun in retrospection,
and fun in seeing it repeated by succeeding generations. If it fails to be fun
in any of these instances, it fails to be genuine.
I like to see young people full of vivacity. I like to hear their merry
laughter, to witness their innocent pranks; but I do not like to see them
laughing at the sufferings of others, or amusing themselves with dangers of
any kind. Above all, I regret to see them playing with the fire of physical
passion.

Many a girl who to-day is lost to virtue had no idea that she was starting
on this downward road. She was only having a good time. She was pretty,
attractive, and admired. Young men flattered her with words, and when they
held her hand, or put their arm around her, she took it as another
compliment to her charms. She did not see that it was only selfishness, only
a desire to feel the thrills of physical pleasure which this contact with her
person aroused. She would have felt humiliated had she recognized this
fact, and it seems to me that girls should understand the feelings that
prompt young men to take personal familiarities.
The young man might deny the fact to the girl, but he understands it well
enough as a fact, and he loses a measure of respect for her because she is
willing to permit his advances. The girl no doubt imagines that these are
sweet little secrets between herself and the young man, when perhaps he is
discussing her openly with his young men friends. I have even heard such
discussions on railway trains, carried on in no very low tones, between
young men, well dressed and with all the outward appearances of
gentlemen, and I have wondered how Jennie and Sadie and Clara and
Nellie, whose names I heard openly mentioned, would have felt to have
heard themselves described as "a nice, soft little thing to hug," or "she
knows how to kiss."
Do you imagine these young men would have thus spoken had they truly
respected the girls? They might say "They are nice girls," but would they
say, in their deeper consciousness, "They are true, self-respecting, womanly
girls, and I honor them?"
"But what is a girl to do?" asks one. "If she is prudish she won't get any
attention. She has to allow a certain innocent freedom, or young men won't
go with her."
Do you really believe that, dear girl? Let me tell you what young men
have said to me. Said one, "O, we have to be familiar with the girls. They
all expect it, and would be offended if we were just friendly and manifested
no familiarities." Do you suppose girls ever thought of the possibility of the
young men saying that? When they are pleading for permission to be
familiar they do sometimes say, "Why, all the girls allow it," but they also
add, "so there can be no harm;" while among themselves they are laughing
at the credulity of the girls, or accusing them of making it necessary for the

young men to take "innocent" liberties in order to have the good will of the
girls.
A young man may assure you most emphatically that he respects you
none the less, although you allow him to hold your hand or kiss you at
parting, but he knows it is not true, and he will admit it to others rather than
to the girl herself. Truthful young men say, "Of course, we have the most
respect for the girls who keep us at a distance." "But they won't pay us
attention," say the girls. "Is that so?" I asked of a young man. "Are you
more earnest in pursuit of the girl who courts approaches, or the girl who
holds you at bay?" "Why!" responded he, with emphasis, "the girls ought to
know that a boy wants most that which is hardest to get; but we are actually
obliged to treat the girls with familiarity or they won't go with us." And this
young man seemed really surprised when I assured him that girls supposed
they were obliged to accept caresses in order to have the attention of young
men. Then this same young man spoke of something that I know to be too
often true. He said, "It is strange, if the girls don't want these things, that
they act as they do, for they actually invite familiarity. In fact, many times I
would have been glad to be respectfully friendly, but the girls did not seem
satisfied, and by many little ways and manners they indicated that they were
ready to be caressed. I think they mean to be good girls, but they put an
awful lot of temptation in a fellow's way."
No doubt these girls did not realize what they were doing, but I believe
every young woman should have so clear an understanding of human nature
as to know that she is playing with a dangerous fire when she allows
caresses and unbecoming familiarity. She ought to know that, while she
may hold herself above criminal deeds, if she permits fondlings and
caresses she may be directly responsible for arousing a passion in the young
man that may lead him to go out from her presence and seek the company
of dissolute women, and thus lose his honor and purity because a girl who
called herself virtuous tempted him. Is she in truth more honorable than the
outcast woman? She has allowed familiarities in the matter of embraces and
kisses, and she may not know what thoughts have been inspired in the mind
of the young man by her unguarded conduct. She may feel indignant at the
suggestion, because she has meant no harm, but in reality she should blush
that her own familiar conduct has given him a tacit right to think of her with
even greater freedom.

Girls have a wonderful responsibility in regard even to the moral conduct
of young men, and the self-respecting girl will guard herself not only from
the contamination of touch, but from an undue freedom of thought.
Do you say she cannot govern the thoughts of men? I reply, she can to a
great extent. By a dress that exposes her person to public gaze, or even
more seductively hides it under a film of suggestive lace, she has given a
direction to the thoughts of those who look at her. She has declared that
their eyes may touch her, that their thoughts may be occupied with an
inventory of her physical charms. She has openly announced that she is
willing to be appraised by eyes of men as a beautiful animal. What wonder
if their thoughts go further than her public declaration, and that they may
freely surmise the charms that still remain hidden?
When a girl, by putting herself into graceful attitudes in tempting
nearness to a young man, casts coquettish glances, she has done that which
will give a turn to the thought which may prove provocative of deeds.
"I am afraid of that girl," said a young man who desired to live purely.
"May be she does not mean it, but her poses and glances make it almost
impossible for me to keep my hands off of her. I am obliged to leave her for
fear that I shall kiss her when she looks so mischievously alluring."
The girl, perhaps, would have been flattered by the kiss and indignant at
further liberties, yet would have felt no compunctions had her victim been
inflamed by a passion that he lacked the power to control, prompting him to
seek some other girl to be his prey.
You think men should have self-control. So they should. We will not
lessen the blame of the young man, but the girl who puts the temptation in
his way, even if she did not herself yield to it, is not guiltless.
The conduct of a pure woman should be the safeguard and not the
destruction of a man, and she can be his protector, even as he is hers. I
heard an eminent woman say that woman was man's moral protector, and
man woman's physical protector, and I said that is only half true. Man is
also woman's moral protector, and woman is also man's physical protector.
She is acknowledged to be his physical tempter. If she knows her power she
can, by her wise, modest, womanly demeanor, make it impossible for him
to feel an impure impulse in her presence. Ruskin says:

"You cannot think that the buckling on of the knight's armor by his lady's
hand was a mere caprice of romantic fashion. It is the type of an eternal
truth—that the soul's armor is never well set to the heart unless a woman's
hand has braced it; and it is only when she braces it loosely that the honor
of manhood fails. Know you not those lovely lines—I would they were
learned by all youthful ladies of England—

"'Ah wasteful woman! she who may
On her sweet self set her own price,
Knowing he cannot choose but pay—
How has she cheapen'd Paradise!
How given for nought her priceless gift,
How spoiled the bread and spill'd the wine,
Which, spent with due, respective thrift,
Had made brutes men, and men divine!'"

CHAPTER XXI.ToC

FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN BOYS AND GIRLS.

You might like to know, dear reader, if I do not believe in some
intermediate relation between that of the comrade and the lover—a more
intimate relation than the one and less intimate than the other. You ask,
Cannot a young man and a young woman be real, true friends?
Let us talk a little about friendship and what it implies. I should define a
friend as one who believes in me, who expects much of me, who

encourages me to do the best that is in me, who will tell me of my faults,
who recognizes my virtues, who trusts in my honor.
You are willing to accept that definition, and you think it possible to be
all that to each other without being lovers. I believe it, too, but I would like
to make some further statements before we have the discussion of this
question.
I believe that a girl's first and best friends are her parents; her wisest
confidante, her mother. To these she may speak unreservedly of herself.
With these she may freely talk over family matters. In a friendship with
some outside the family it would be unwise to discuss family matters. It
might be an unkindness to other members of the family, and in case of a
break in the friendship the family secrets might be betrayed, and to the
detriment of the trusting friend. I once read of such an affair, where one girl
had confided to another certain matters that reflected on the honor of her
family, and when the friendship was broken the secret was betrayed, to the
public shame of the girl who had been unwise in her confidences.
True honor would forbid the betrayal of a confidence even after the
rupture of a friendship; but all persons have not the highest ideal of honor.
If the girl is not discreet in her revelation of herself, and her mother is her
only confidante, it will not be so serious a matter, for the mother will never
be tempted to reveal to others anything that would bring scorn or criticism
upon her child. Nowhere, in her girlish ignorance, can the girl find as
sincere sympathy as in the loving mother.
"But all mothers are not sympathetic," you say. "They are often nagging,
and use the confidences of the daughter to make her uncomfortable." Well,
if this be so, you, at least, can learn the lesson, and by your habits of
thought fit yourself to be the wise, loving, companionable, sympathetic
confidante of your daughter, for you will be anxious that she should have no
friend so close as yourself.
However, I believe that mothers should recognize the individuality of
their daughters, and win, rather than command, confidence. It is difficult for
us, as mothers, to realize that our daughter is just as much a separate
individual as is our neighbor's daughter, and that we have no right to thrust
ourselves upon her, no right to demand that she shall love us. We have the
right to sympathize, to counsel, to direct her conduct so long as she remains

in our personal care, but we should remember that she must be responsible,
that she is a soul and must live her own life, learn her own lessons, suffer
her own experiences. Our deepest love can only enable us to help her to
choose wisely, to think truly, to act judiciously. So I would have the
friendship of mother and daughter something very deep and true—
something more than a petting and caressing, an indulging or humoring.
I would be inclined to have less outward demonstration and more inner
tenderness. I believe that very often outward impression comes largely to
take the place of true affection. I see girls who kiss and fondle their
mothers, who never open to them their heart's deepest secrets. Fewer kisses
and more confidence would satisfy more thoroughly the mother's heart. I
believe that, even in the family, a kiss should not become a conventionality.
It should have a meaning. I would rather that my daughter should kiss me
once a week, with a spontaneous desire thus to express her love, than that,
from custom, she should kiss me morning, noon, and night.
There are sanitary reasons against kissing, such as transmission of germs
of disease; but aside from this, there are affectional reasons why kisses
should be few, and these few spontaneous rather than required.
We ought never to force our kisses upon children; but, recognizing their
individuality, leave them free to proffer or to refuse.
Next to the friendship of parents should come that of brother and sister.
We almost think it a wonder when members of the same family seem really
to love each other, and yet family ties should be the strongest in the world.
Why should there not be the sweetest intimacy between two sisters, whose
lives and interests are so closely united? Why should not the bond between
mother and sister be indissoluble?
A young man and woman, children of the same parents, brought up in the
same home, ought to be the best of friends. Their friendship is without the
danger of misunderstanding. It can be free from the slight feeling of envy or
jealousy that might arise between sisters. It would seem that it could be the
truest comradeship possible to two young people.
A sister should be to a brother not merely some one at hand to mend his
gloves or make his neckties, not simply some one to fondle and indulge, but
she should be one whom he would never scold or browbeat. A brother

should not be simply some one to run errands, to call on for help in
emergencies, not some one to tease when the spirit of mischief prompts, or
to scold when things have gone wrong.
I would have the love of these two manifest itself in all true helpfulness,
but in a way that would draw out the noblest self-reliance in each. It should
manifest itself in courteous words, in helpful deeds, in glances of the eye, in
tones of the voice, in heartfelt sympathies that stimulate to nobler deeds, in
every way that strengthens and uplifts; and if caresses are few, they will not
be missed in the wealth of that truer manifestation which makes the
recipient feel his nobility and worth.
A young lady once asked me if I believed in young people who were not
related treating each other as brother and sister, and I replied that would
depend on how the brother and sister treated each other. I have seen girls
treat brothers in ways that other young men would not enjoy—finding fault,
nagging, and snubbing generally. I have seen young men browbeat their
sisters, tease them, and be continually unkind. I presume, if such a young
man should propose to be a brother to a girl, he would not purpose to treat
her in this way. Young people sometimes like to try to deceive themselves,
and they fancy that the subterfuge of calling each other brother and sister
will be a warrant for the parting kiss or the tender endearment that they
enjoy, but which they feel proprieties will not allow. The subterfuge is too
transparent. It deceives no one, and it does not make right that which,
without it, would be improper.
Platonic friendships—that is, friendships between men and women
without the element of physical love—are rare; rarer, indeed, than they
should be. They are difficult to maintain because of the temptation to begin
in the indulgences of personal familiarities, which tend to lead the
friendship over into debatable ground. Men and women ought to be grand,
true friends, inciting each other to the noblest achievements, but it never
can be through sentimentality.
A girl may think she is sisterly when she listens to the young man's cry
for sympathy in some trouble, and she holds his hand and smoothes his hair
and comforts him after this tender fashion, and he may go away feeling
comforted, even as a baby might be quieted by petting; but his moral fiber

has not been strengthened; he has not been made to feel stronger to do and
dare.
Supposing she had listened with interest to his story, and then, without
laying her hands upon him, she had said, "You are a man, a prince, the son
of a King. You are strong to bear, brave to do. Obstacles surmounted give
broader outlooks. Burdens bravely borne bring strength. I believe in you;"
and then, with a strong, firm—I had almost said manly—grasp of the hand,
she had sent him away, he would go feeling stronger, braver, more self-
reliant, stimulated, encouraged, not merely soothed and quieted. In this
fashion a girl may treat a young man as a brother. She may tell him his
faults in all kindness. She may listen to his dreams, ambitions, aspirations,
and encourage with approval, incite by gentle sarcasm, or enliven by kindly
sportiveness; but her person is her own, and he should be made to feel that
beyond these bounds he may not pass. Such friendship may endure
vicissitude, or separation, and be through life a source of truest inspiration.
To be such a friend to a noble man is a worthy ambition. It would prove the
possession of more qualities of womanliness than merely to win his
passionate love.
When the world comes to accept the highest ideals of life and believes
that all relations of men and women are not of necessity founded on
physical attraction, then will such friendships be more possible, and the
earth can offer no more desirable future than that in which men and women,
knowing each other as immortal intelligences, shall leave the vale of unsafe
sentimentality and sensuous poison to dwell on heights of noble
companionship.

CHAPTER XXII.ToC

FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN GIRLS.

You think, perhaps, that I can find no fault with the friendship of girls
with each other, that that certainly is safe and pleasant. I have said enough
for you to understand that I believe in reserve even in girl friendships. Girls
are apt at certain periods of their lives to be rather gushing creatures. They
form most sentimental attachments for each other. They go about with their
arms around each other, they loll against each other, and sit with clasped
hands by the hour. They fondle and kiss until beholders are fairly nauseated,
and in a few weeks, perhaps, they do not speak as they pass each other, and
their caresses are lavished on others. Such friendships are not only silly,
they are even dangerous. They are a weakening of moral fiber, a waste of
mawkish sentimentality. They may be even worse. Such friendship may
degenerate even into a species of self-abuse that is most deplorable.
When girls are so sentimentally fond of each other that they are like silly
lovers when together, and weep over each other's absence in uncontrollable
agony, the conditions are serious enough for the consultation of a physician.
It is an abnormal state of affairs, and if probed thoroughly might be found
to be a sort of perversion, a sex mania, needing immediate and perhaps
severe measures.
I wish the friendships of girls were less sentimental, were more manly.
Two young men who are friends do not lop on each other, and kiss and
gush. They trust each other, they talk freely together, they would stand by
each other in any trouble or emergency, but their expressions of endearment
are not more than the cordial handgrasp and the unsentimental appellation,
"Dear old chap."
I admire these friendships in young men. They seem to mean so much,
and yet to exact so little. They believe in each other's love, but do not
demand to be told of it every minute.
It is the highest type of friendship that can believe in the friend under all
circumstances. I have a friend from whom I may not hear once a year, yet I
know just where she stands in her relation to me, and I would have no fear
of finding her cold or unresponsive should I at any time call on her for a
friendly service. I may never see her, or even hear from her again in life,
and we may live long years yet on the earth, but I would as soon think of
doubting the return of to-morrow's sun as to doubt her love. There is no

need of words, of caresses, even of deeds. We are both busy women. Our
daily cares absorb us, yet we know that we are friends, and in the great
hereafter we hope to find a place where we may pause and look into each
other's faces and enjoy an interchange of thought. But now other interests
than self-seeking claim us. We work on, cheered by the thought that time
cannot alienate us, for true love is eternal.
The charm of a true friendship is that it does not make demands. I had a
school friend who thought that because she was my friend I must tell her all
my affairs. She was offended if I received a letter that I did not read to her,
or if I went out to spend the evening without first informing her. Her
friendship became a tax because it demanded so much. And, after all, was it
true friendship? Was it not love of self, rather than of me? People
sometimes imagine that, because they crave love, they are affectionate and
unselfish. Is it true? It is rather natural to want to be loved, but it is selfish,
and the feeling indulged in to any extent is weakening. To want to be loved
means usually to want some one to be a protector, a giver of pleasure, a
supplier of wants. To desire to love is nobler, for to love is to give. God so
loved the world that he gave. Christ loved us and gave—gave Himself for
us. To love truly, grandly, nobly, is to grow strong through giving. Not
giving that which we should not give, not unwisely giving of time that
belongs to our own best good, not giving of strength that should be
dedicated to some better purpose, not a yielding of principle, nor purity, nor
honor, but the true giving of that which enriches both giver and recipient,
which ennobles, uplifts, encourages and strengthens, and leaves no sorrow
in its wake. The truest giving is sometimes a refusal to yield to demands
that are unworthy. Love wisely, my daughter, and you will give wisely.

CHAPTER XXIII.ToC

EXERCISES.

As many girls are affected by spinal curvature, round shoulders, weak
back or ankles, prolapsed stomach, bowels, or pelvic organs, constipation
and poor general circulation, it seems well to give a few exercises that shall
be corrective of these defects, premising that each exercise should be begun
gradually and easily, increasing frequency and force, as strength is gained,
say five times a day the first week, eight times a day the second week, and
so on.
Never exercise in tight clothing or in a corset, and do not exercise to
exhaustion.

To Overcome Slight Lateral Curvature.
1. If it is the right shoulder that is depressed, place the hands on hips or
behind neck, and bend slowly to the left.
Reverse this movement if the left is the lower shoulder.
2. With arms raised above the head, bend the body slowly forward and
try to touch the floor without bending the knees, then rise slowly to an erect
position.

To Overcome Round Shoulders.

Do not fold the arms in front.
Any motion that brings hands together behind the back is good.
Draw the elbows quickly backward.
Carry a weight in each hand, holding the weight behind you and out from
the body.
Hold the body in the correct attitude (see page 132), head balanced on
spine, chest elevated, posterior part of body thrown out, weight on balls of
feet, not on heels.
Exercises that strengthen the waist muscles will help to maintain the erect
position, and so tend to overcome round shoulders.

To Strengthen Weak Back.
1. Hold a light weight in each hand. Place the weights on the floor in
front of you. Stand with feet eight inches apart, and take three slow, deep
breaths. Stoop over and take the weights in the hands and gradually
straighten up till the hands hang easily at the sides. Bend slowly forward,
and again place the weights on the floor. Repeat five times.
2. Clasp the hands back of the neck and bend slowly forward until the
head is on a level with the waist. Count ten, then straighten up to erect
position. Repeat.
3. Bend the body backward, forward and sidewise at the waist.
4. Put your right arm over your head till it touches your left ear. Hold the
chin high. Breathe slowly and deeply while you walk around the room.
Repeat with other arm. Increase the length of your walk gradually.
5. Playing tennis is good exercise for the sides of the waist.
6. Carry a weight first on one shoulder, then on the other.
7. Run on the toes.
8. Hop on one foot.

To Strengthen and Develop the Chest.

1. Maintain an erect attitude.
2. Raise and lower the arm, forward, upward, backward, without bending
the elbows.
3. Lie on the floor, stretch the arms over the head till the hands touch the
floor. Take a deep breath and hold it; now bring the arms over the head as
high as you can reach, and do not bend the elbows. Rest and repeat three
times.
4. Hold chin as high as possible. Raise the arms at the side as high as you
can. Breathe deeply and hold the air in the lungs. Now, without letting any
air out and without bending the elbows, bring your hands down steadily to
your sides. Repeat. Keep chin well up.

To Strengthen Abdominal Muscles.
1. Stand with chin high.
2. Breathe slowly and deeply.
3. Raise the right knee till the right foot is about twelve inches from the
floor.
4. Give a little spring with the left foot, raise it swiftly from the floor, and
at the same time put the right toe and sole (not heel) to the floor.
5. Spring on right foot and put left down. Repeat five times.
6. Fold arms behind. Hold chin up. Breathe slowly and very deeply. Do
not bend the knees. Hold your left foot far out in front of you while you
count five.
7. Lower it and raise right foot in same way. Repeat four times. Keep the
shoulders well back and down while doing this exercise. Point the toes
down and out.
8. Lie on your back. Keep feet down and rise to a sitting position. Drop
slowly back, and repeat three times.
9. Run, lifting your feet high, like a spirited horse.
10. Stand with chin high, arms akimbo. Breathe slowly and deeply.
Advance left foot eight inches in front of right. Lean head slowly as far

back as possible. Hold it while you count five. Straighten, and repeat five
times.
11. Place the hands on the wall in front of you as high as you can reach
and about two feet apart, with the elbows straight. Have chin up till you
face the ceiling, and keep it so. Take a very deep breath and hold it. Now
bend your elbows and let the body go slowly forward till the chest touches
the wall, keeping the body and legs stiff all the time. Push back till straight
again. Do not take heels off the floor, nor hands off the wall, nor eyes off
the ceiling right overhead. Repeat five times.
12. Lie on the floor, stretch the arms over the head till the hands touch the
floor. Clinch the fists. Take a deep breath and hold it. Now raise the arms
slowly, keeping the fists clinched, and bring them down at the sides, raising
the head from the floor at same time. Raise the arms and stretch them on the
floor over the head at same time, letting the head sink back to the floor, and
breathe out slowly.

To Facilitate the Return of Displaced Organs to Their Normal Position.
1. Lie on your back upon a smooth, hard surface. Draw the feet up as
close to the body as possible. Now lift the lower part of the body until it is
wholly supported by the feet and shoulders. Hold it in this position as long
as possible without fatigue. Lower slowly to original position. Rest a few
minutes. Repeat. Continue for twenty or thirty minutes, according to
strength.
2. Lie with face downward. Raise the hips as high as possible, supporting
the body on the toes and elbows.
3. Slip from the bed head first and face downwards until the head rests on
the floor and the legs and feet remain upon the bed. Let the arms to the
elbows rest on the floor. When weary of this attitude slip to the floor, turn
on the back, and apply the bandage.

CHAPTER XXIV.ToC

RECREATIONS.

Walking.
It is well to bear constantly in mind that all exercise, even walking on
level ground, is objectionable in clothing that compresses the body; and as
exercise is the law of the development of muscle, the only safe thing to do
is so to dress that every muscle has free and unrestrained motion. Walking
to be beneficial should be out of doors, with some pleasant motive, and
taken with some degree of energy. The length of the walk should be
proportional to the strength of the girl—short at first, and increasing as
strength increases. The erect attitude should be maintained, and the walking
not prolonged to exhaustion.
Walking slowly home from school, laden with books and intent on
conversation with others, will not fulfill the demands of walking for
exercise. It makes no demand on breathing power, does not develop depth
of chest or strength of limb.

Running.
This is an admirable exercise if the dress be suitable. Long skirts are an
impediment. Running on the toes develops the calf of the leg.
The swift motion causes deep breathing, which expands the chest. If
violent or long-continued, it may make too urgent a demand on the heart
and lungs, and so be detrimental. The counsel of a physician is safest for
those whose heart and lungs are weak.

Riding.

Horseback riding is a vigorous exercise, which would be especially
beneficial were it not for the cramped position women are forced by custom
to assume. It cannot be recommended to those who have a tendency to
lateral curvature of the spine or weak back, or prolapsed internal organs.
Such girls should by proper care be put into a better physical condition
before attempting to ride. Harvey advises learning to ride on either side of
the horse, so as to bring opposite sets of muscles into play, and counteract
the curvature which physicians who have the opportunity to observe say is
produced by riding. That being true, why not adopt the sensible fashion of
riding on both sides of the horse at once, as men do? I saw a young lady so
mounted the other day, and the sight was far more agreeable than the
twisted attitude compelled by the side-saddle. Medical men also assert that
riding tends to produce round shoulders, and as the greatest muscular strain
comes on the back, it is not helpful to weak backs.

Skating.
Skating is a fine exercise. It quickens the circulation and the respiration,
aids digestion, exercises a great number of muscles, both of limbs and trunk
of body, strengthens the ankles, and incidentally the nerves. Evils are to be
found in wrong habits of dressing, the tendency to overdo through the
fascination of the sport, the danger of taking cold by carelessly sitting down
to rest when heated, or driving home after being warmed up by the severe
exertion. A girl of good judgment, properly clothed, ought to be benefited
by this charming out-door sport.
It should be begun very gradually at the opening of the skating season,
and not undertaken if the internal organs are prolapsed.

Rowing.
Rowing is an exercise that develops the upper back and back of
shoulders, and therefore needs to be counteracted by exercise that calls into
play the muscles of the front of the chest.

Cycling.

The dangers of cycling arise principally from lack of judgment. The
temptation to overdo is very great, and injury is done in attempts to ride
longer, farther and faster than the strength will safely allow. The whole
dress should be so arranged as to give perfect freedom of movement, the
skirt short enough to clear the dangerous part of the mechanism, the saddle
adjusted to the individual both in its make and height, and the girl be taught
to sit properly and to adjust her weight so that the pressure will not be
undue upon the perineum. Rectal and other local irritations are produced by
the pressure of the whole weight resting on the saddle.
The position should not be absolutely erect, but leaning slightly forward,
so as to allow the weight to be distributed between the handle-bars, the
pedal, and the saddle. This slightly inclined attitude also maintains the
proper and harmonious relation of the internal organs, so that the bowels do
not crowd down on the pelvic organs.
If the girl is taught to sit on the machine properly, to distribute her
weight, to sit on the large gluteal muscles, and not on the perineum, to use
judgment in the amount of exercise taken at a time, there is no reason why a
girl in a normal condition of health should not be benefited.
There may be particular reasons why some girls should not undertake to
ride, and these can be determined by the physician.

Tennis.
This is a game that demands great activity, consequently there is especial
need of entire freedom of movement. All constrictions of clothing are
especially injurious.
It is claimed by some that, being essentially a one-sided exercise, there is
a possibility, if unwisely indulged in, that it may produce injurious results,
especially to the spine.

Swimming.
Swimming is not only a valuable exercise, but it really conduces to the
safety of life in these days of constant boat travel, and there are no adequate
reasons why girls should not learn. The younger they begin, the more

readily will they become expert. It is not wise to indulge in this exercise
while menstruating, nor immediately after eating.

Skipping.
There is some prejudice against this form of exercise from the fact that it
can be overdone, and also from the popular idea that it is injurious to girls
to jump.
If they are properly dressed, and their muscles are gradually developed,
and they use good common sense as to amount, there are practically no
dangers in skipping. It is admirably adapted to strengthen a great variety of
muscles, as those of the legs, back, abdomen, and neck. It strengthens the
knees and the arches of the feet, thereby tending to overcome flat foot. It
strengthens weak backs, increases circulation and respiration and promotes
digestion, and, if practised out of doors, is one of the most perfect forms of
exercise. Of course the judgment dictates that when the pelvic organs are
heavy with the menstrual congestion it would not be advisable.

Dancing.
Dancing, in itself considered, is a pleasant and beneficial exercise. It
develops grace and muscular strength, increases circulation and respiration,
and is cheering because of rhythm. One wishes that it could be
unqualifiedly commended. But when we take into account the late hours,
the heated rooms, the promiscuous company, the late unwholesome
suppers, the improper dress, the dangers of taking cold, the immodest
freedom of the round dance, and the not infrequent evils resulting
therefrom, it would seem unwise to commend an exercise so surrounded by
objectionable concomitants. It is observed that young church members who
become interested in the dance soon lose all their interest in church work.
If dancing could be conducted in the daytime, out of doors, among well-
known home friends and companions, in proper dress, and with no round
dances, there would be much to commend, and little to condemn.

Card-playing.

I can find little to say in favor of this form of amusement. It contains no
exercise for the body. It continues the cramped attitudes to which most
people are condemned during the day.
It certainly contributes nothing to the higher forms of enjoyment. It
stimulates emulations, which St. Paul enumerates among things to be
avoided; it is the accompaniment of gambling and low society; and, while
we must admit that a pack of cards in itself is not evil, yet it can be and
often is made most detrimental to the best interests of morality and
righteousness.
The young woman who respects her own intellectual and moral powers
will see little charm in manipulating cards in a way to gain a momentary
success over another and perhaps arousing unkind feelings, it may be even
passions, that may culminate in bloodshed.

Theatre-going.
It is natural that we should enjoy pictorial representation of human life
with living actors and audible words; and, understanding this, many good
people have had the hope that the stage might be purified and made a
teacher of morals. Certainly valuable lessons of life might be most strongly
presented in this concrete form, and thus appeal with wonderful power to
the young and inexperienced. But that it might be so used does not insure
that it will be, and observation shows us that it is not.
The modern play concerns itself principally with a delineation of those
phases of life which we condemn when they become reality, and the
teaching power of the stage becomes a lesson in wrongdoing which to the
young and inexperienced is potent in its suggestiveness.
The costumes of actresses are often immodest, and many of these women
are immoral in character. It would not be just to condemn all actors with the
sweeping assertion of immorality, but all will admit that the temptations are
great, and that great moral force is needed to resist the influences that lead
towards wrong.
That many of our great actors will not permit their children to become
actors, or, in some cases, even to enter the theatre as a witness of its
performances, speaks strongly on the matter.

In the consideration of this subject the girl may safely decide that she will
not be a permanent loser if she is not a frequenter of the theatre. It is safer
to keep the mind pure and untainted from all pictures of sin, more
especially if they are made attractive by the glamour of jewels and silken
attire, of music, dancing, and lifelike portrayal.

PART III.
LOVE; HEREDITY; ENGAGEMENTS.

CHAPTER XXV.ToC

LOVE.

In our study we have first learned of general and then of special
physiology, so, in continuing the same study in mental and moral fields, we
first learn of the general and then of our special relation to others. We
cultivate body, mind and spirit because it is our duty to develop ourselves
for our own interests; but it is also our duty to cultivate all our powers
because of our responsibility in regard to others. This responsibility I will
include in the one word, "love."
What is love? The idea of love occupies much of the thought of old and
young, and in different persons it will have very different meanings. To one
it means merely pleasurable sensations aroused by either the thought of a
person, or by the actual presence of that person. To another it means an
opportunity to sacrifice inclination and pleasure in order to promote the
happiness or welfare of a certain person.
Much that passes in the world as love is principally love of self. The man
loves the woman because she satisfies his sense of beauty; her presence

causes thrills and ecstasies; she contributes to his happiness and comfort.
That is, he loves himself through her. The woman loves the man because he
protects her, he surrounds her with luxury, his presence brings thrills and
ecstasies to her. She loves herself through him. Is not this but the essence of
selfishness? In another case the man loves the woman so tenderly that he
cannot do enough to prove his devotion. If her welfare demands his
absence, he gladly foregoes the pleasure of her society. If her comfort
requires his unremitting toil, he gives his days, and even his nights, to the
task of labor for her. His only anxiety is to know her wants and to supply
them. He effaces himself and his wishes to serve her. He would die to
secure her good. He gives, and asks nothing. Or, in the same way, the
woman loves the man so that her whole thought is not what she can obtain
from him, but what she can give him. True love desires only to give. Self-
love strives only to secure.
Emerson says, "All the world loves a lover," and conversely we may say
a true lover loves all the world. The affection kindled in the heart by one
worthy individual goes out in a kindlier feeling for all the world. A poet
once said that the world was brighter and all humanity dearer because he
loved truly one worthy woman. He was more gentle with little children; the
very beggar on the street corner seemed to be a brother in distress. Because
the woman he loved had given him her heart, he wanted to give something
to every one he met. This is the spirit of true love, to go out in blessings
towards the beloved object, and so on towards every created thing.
I was once asked if I believed in love at first sight. How can love spring
up in a minute? There may be admiration of beauty, there may be
appreciation of intellectual qualities, there may be a recognition of magnetic
personal attraction, but none of these is love. Love, to be worthy the name,
must be a superstructure built upon a firm foundation of acquaintance with
each other's true qualities. Love is not a balloon, in which two young people
may go sailing among the clouds, away from all regions of every-day life.
Those who try it with that idea find the cloud-world cold and
uncomfortable, and not at all the rosy, gold-tinted region it looked at a
distance.
Love is rather like a building with foundations set into the earth—
foundations solid, firmly laid and durable. How can people love when they
do not know each other? Acquaintance first, then friendship, comradeship;

then, if the sentiment grows, love. But how are young people to get really
acquainted? They meet under unreal conditions. They see each other in
society, in Sunday dress and with Sunday manners. They doubtless do not
mean to deceive each other, but there is little to draw out the real self. There
is nothing to disturb or irritate, nothing to prove the honesty, the neatness,
the industry, the persistence, the business ability; nothing to disclose the
true ideas in matters of serious import, of health, religion, duties of
husbands and wives, the government of the home; and too often the
intimacy of marriage discloses many personal peculiarities of temper, habits
and manners that, if seen in time, would have prevented marriage.
The trouble does not originate with young people themselves, but with
older people; but as the young people of to-day will be the older people of
the future, it would be well for them to realize what the trouble is. The fact
is, that in the present conditions of society the association of young people
is unnatural. From earliest childhood boys and girls are taught to think of
each other only in sentimental ways. The little boys and girls in school are
playing at "lovering," and their conversation is often more about beaus and
sweethearts than about the plays of childhood, which alone should occupy
their thoughts. You remember that little miss of ten who asked you, when
you were sixteen, who was your beau. You recall her look of surprise when
you replied that you had none, and her exclamation, "Have no beau! Why,
how do you get along without one?" What made such a mere child imagine
a beau to be an essential agent of a girl's life? Because she had been taught
by the jests and suggestions of her elders that every boy was a possible
lover, and, young as she was, that thought was woven into her very life. It is
pitiable to see how early the mind of the child is tainted by sentimentality,
by the unwise suggestions of older friends. I remember hearing of a child of
six who was talking of getting married. Some one said, "You are too little to
think of getting married," and the child replied, "Why, I have thought of it
since I was two years old." And doubtless she had, because it had been
continually impressed on her mind by the conversation of parents and
friends, and the direction they had given her thought in regard to her
relation to everything masculine.
Parents are often very unwilling to teach their daughters the facts of sex,
and yet quite willing to emphasize the consciousness of sex by intimating
the possibility of flirtations, love affairs, etc. And this false, pernicious idea

of the relation of men and women is too often called love. The central idea
of romances is this passionate attraction of the sexes. The plot gathers in
intensity around the lovers, and culminates in their marriage, after which
life is presumed to move on without a jar, and silly girls and impulsive boys
imagine that the sweet pain that accompanies the touch of hands or the
glance of the eyes is love, and is a sufficient guarantee for the forming of a
life partnership.
Let us face this question fairly. What is love? Of what is it made? Can
you judge with any certainty of its lasting qualities? How can you know the
true from the false?
Unfortunately we have but the one word, "love," to designate many
phases of kindly regard. The mother loves her child, the child loves the
mother, yet love differs much in these two instances. The one is protecting,
anxious, self-sacrificing, unstinted care, unqualified devotion; the other is
sweet dependence, unquestioning acceptance, asking all and giving little.
The love of brother and sister differs from that of brother for brother, or
sister for sister. The love of man for woman differs from all other emotions
of love. It contains elements not found in other forms. It may have the same
quality of giving or accepting, of protecting or yielding, but with all this
there is an added quality that is not found in any other relation of life, a
quality that rises to the intensity of a passion, and which, if thwarted or
distorted, may become murderous or lead to insanity.
This overwhelming, domineering sway of feeling inheres in the fact of
sex. It is the expression of the whole nature, through the physical; it is the
vital creative force endeavoring to reach a tangible result. Holy in its
inception, it can be degraded to the vilest uses. Forming the distinctive
feature of love between the sexes, it is too often imagined to be the all, and
a strong physical attraction without the basic friendship, which can only
come through acquaintance, is not infrequently supposed to be worthy of
the name of love, and found, alas! to be the most unsubstantial of chimeras.
Love, to be worthy of the name, must rest, not on the fact of admiration
for beauty, not on the physical attraction manifested in sweet electric thrills.
Love should include intellectual congeniality and spiritual sympathy, as
well as physical attraction. Lacking any one of these three ingredients, the
interest of two people in each other should not be called love.

In order that it may be determined whether there is the true basis of love,
there should be opportunity for unsentimental acquaintance. If we could
free the minds of young people from the romantic idea, and allow them to
associate as intelligent beings, and so form acquaintance on the basis of
comradeship, we should make things safer for them.
But if the older people do not know how to secure this desirable state of
affairs, the young people themselves might secure it if they understood its
desirability. You, as a young woman, can have much influence in the right
directions, supposing that you drop from your mind the idea of sentimental
relations with young men and meet them on the ground of a friendly
comradeship.
Don't indulge in tête-à-têtes, or in lackadaisical glances of the eye. Don't
permit personal familiarities, hand pressures, or caresses. Don't simper, and
put on the airs which mean, though the girl may not understand it, an effort
to arouse the admiration and the physical feeling of love. Refuse to be
flattered, to be played with, to be treated as a female, but insist on being
treated as a woman with intelligence, with a capacity to understand
reasonable things. Manifest an interest in the movements of the world, of
politics, literature, art, religion, athletics. Talk of the things that interest the
young man as a citizen of the world, and not merely of those things which
appeal to him as a male. Be frank, be lively, be witty, be wise, but do not be
sentimental.
When a young man calls, don't let him get the idea that you have to be
secluded in a room apart from the rest of the family. You will be better able
to judge of him if you see him with your brothers, if you note his manner
towards your mother, if you hear him converse with your father, if you
mark his conduct towards the younger children. He will talk sense, if he
can, when he meets your family, while in a tête-à-tête conversation with
yourself he may be able to hide his lack of wisdom under the glamour of
sweet nothings and soft nonsense.
Then be yourself when he comes. Let him see you in your home life, at
your domestic duties, sewing, helping mother, reading to father, caring for
the little ones. Be an honest, free-hearted, companionable girl, and put
sentimentality out of mind. You can have many such friends, and by and by,
out of these you will probably find one whom you admire more and more as

time goes on. You hear his sentiments always expressed in favor of truth
and probity. You come to know something of his business principles, you
see his courtesy to old and young, you learn of his home, his family, his
social position, and out of this intimate knowledge there springs the
attachment, blended with deep respect, which assures you that he is worthy
of your heart and hand, and indeed of your whole life.
Little by little the comradeship has grown more intimate. You have not
been sentimental. You have treated each other with respect, you have
maintained your self-respect, you have held a tight rein over your fancies
and emotions, but now you are convinced that you may allow them to have
sway. You begin to acknowledge to yourself that you love.
And he, too, begins to manifest a deeper interest in you. You see this with
a certain pride in the fact that he is not self-deceived He knows you, has
seen you in your daily life, has sounded the depth of your intellect, knows
of your religious beliefs, and in all he has found you coming up to his
ideals. His eye meets yours with a new tenderness in its glance that touches
you, because you know it is not an earthly fire of passion that glows therein.
It is you, the real, immortal you, that he seeks; not merely the pleasures of
sense through you; and feeling the response in your own heart, your glance
kindles with the same divine fire, and your true selves have spoken to each
other. You have gradually grown into the knowledge of love. You have not
fallen in love. And yet there have been no words, and in maiden shyness
you await his speech. Your womanly reserve has won his respect, and he
makes no attempts to win privileges of endearments before he confesses his
love, but frankly and manfully pleads his suit and wins.
Oh, my dear child, this has been no matter for jesting; it has been serious,
and we who have watched this dawning love have realized that the great
drama of life, so full of tragic possibilities, is being here enacted. We do not
laugh, nor jest, but with the tenderest prayers we welcome you into the
possibilities of God's divinest gift of human love.

CHAPTER XXVI.ToC

RESPONSIBILITY IN MARRIAGE.

You are beginning to feel a peculiar interest in one young man more than
in any other. You think of him in his absence; you welcome his coming; his
eyes seem to caress you; the clasp of his hand thrills you; you begin to think
that you have passed from the domain of friendship into that of love.
Before you really make that admission, let us "reason together." Let us
take a fair look at matters, and see whether it is wiser to pass the border
line, or to remain only friends. Who is this young man? You tell me his
name, but that means nothing. Who is he? What is he in himself? What are
his talents, capacities, habits, inherited tendencies? Who is his father, his
mother? What is their worth? I do not mean in money, but in themselves?
What ancestral diseases or defects may he transmit to his posterity, which
will be your posterity if he becomes your husband? Are the family
tendencies such that you would be willing to see them repeated in your
children?
There is no indelicacy in asking yourself these questions, nor in making
the investigations which will enable you to answer them satisfactorily. The
woman who marries, marries not only into her husband's family, she also
marries his family; she is to become one of it, to live with it in closer and
closer companionship as her children, bearing the family temperament,
disposition and tendencies, gather one by one around her hearth.
Is the family one of the type that she will desire to associate with
intimately all the days of her life? You may feel that it does not matter if
you do not love your husband's mother, or admire his sisters; no matter if
you do not have respect for his father, you will live so far away from them
that it will not be oftener than once in several years that you will be obliged
to meet them. It might even happen that you would never see them, and yet
it be a very serious matter that they were not respectable or lovable people,
for they constitute one-half of the ancestry of your children. Their most

undesirable characteristics may, perchance, be the endowment of your sons
and daughters, and your heart ache, or even break, over the habits, or, it
may be, criminality, which may disgrace your home through the paternal
inheritance that you chose for them. Viewed in this light, marriage becomes
a most serious matter. It is unfortunate that girls generally have the idea that
it is not modest to think of marriage further than the ceremony. Of the
responsibilities and duties they are not only ignorant, but think it ladylike to
remain uninformed until experience teaches them, and that teaching is often
accompanied by heart-breaking sorrow. If you should make inquiry you
would discover that a large proportion of mothers have buried their
firstborn children, and should you ask them why, they would in all
probability say, almost without exception, that it was because they did not
know how to give them a dower of health, or how to care for their physical
needs.
Again, investigation would show you that children go astray, become
wild, dissipated, or even criminal, because parents have not known how to
train them, how to keep their confidence, how wisely to guide them in ways
of righteousness.
We all believe it very important that mothers should know how to direct
and govern their children, and yet we do not train the future mothers for this
important office. We teach girls how to sew or cook, how to embroider and
play the piano. We do not expect them to know, without instruction, how to
mingle the ingredients for a cake or pudding, but we imagine that they will
know by intuition how to secure the best results in the mingling of
heterogeneous compounds in the formation of the characteristics of a
human being.
When we speak of the mother's privilege, we think of the actual mother,
whose privilege is to care for and guide her real children. But the mother's
privilege in fact begins in her own childhood, when by her habits of life and
thought she is deciding her own character, and at the same time creating, in
great degree, the talents and tendencies of her possible children. It is her
privilege to secure a measure of physical vigor for her descendants by her
care of her own health in her very girlhood. She can endow them with
mental power by not frittering away her own powers of mind in foolish
reading or careless methods of study. By her own self-respecting conduct
she helps to give them the reverence for self which will insure their acting

wisely. All this is the mother's privilege; and still one more great privilege is
hers, and that is to choose one-half the ancestry of her descendants. She
cannot choose their ancestry that comes to them through herself; that is a
fixed fact. Her parents must of necessity be her children's grandparents. Her
family characteristics are also their inheritance. The only thing she can do
in regard to their inheritance through her is to modify the objectionable
traits, and to cultivate the good traits herself, so that family faults may in
her be weakened and the probability of transmission lessened, and the
family virtues be strengthened and their probable transmission intensified.
But she has the power to decide what shall be the paternal ancestry of her
household; and if she is duly impressed with the responsibility of this
power, she will not allow herself to fall in love and marry a man of whose
family she knows nothing, or knows facts that do not promise well for
posterity.

CHAPTER XXVII.ToC

THE LAW OF HEREDITY.

I once heard of a man who on his death-bed made a singular will. He had
no houses or lands to bequeath his children, but he had observed that they
had inherited much from him, and so he made a formal bequest to them of
that which they already possessed.
He wrote: "I bequeath to my son John my big bony frame and the
slouching gait I acquired by carelessness, also my inherited tendency to
consumption. To my daughter Mary I bequeath my sallow complexion and
torpid liver, which are the result of my gross living; also my melancholy

disposition and tendency to look on the dark side of life. To my son Samuel
I give my love for alcoholic liquors and my irritable disposition; to my
daughter Jane my coarseness of thought and my unwillingness to be
restrained in my desires, and also my tendency to commit suicide."
"A very strange will," said everybody, and yet it was a will that was
probated long before the testator's death. That it gave perfect satisfaction I
will not assert, but it was never contested and paid no fees to lawyers.
Just such wills are being made daily by the lives and conduct of young
people, though they are not put into writing. Some time in the future,
however, they will be written into "living epistles, known and read of all
men."
Other wills are being made daily that through sober, virtuous, youthful
lives will bequeath to posterity dowers of health, strength, purity and power.
This being true, it seems only a part of prudent foresight to study in youth
the law that governs the transmission of personal characteristics to the
future "denizens of life's great city." This law is known as Heredity, and its
first written record is in the first chapter of Genesis, where it is written that
"Every plant and animal shall bring forth after its kind." We are so
accustomed to seeing the results of this law that we give it little or no
thought. We see that grass springs up each year on our lawns and meadows.
We know that if we put the seeds of a certain flower in the ground, that kind
of flower will always spring up, never another kind. The farmer is not
anxious, after he sows wheat, for fear that the crop will be rye or barley. We
expect that the young of cats will be kittens, of geese will be goslings, of
men will be human children, and we are never disappointed. The law holds
good under all circumstances.
We see, too, that there are certain race characteristics that maintain. The
Mongolian race has peculiar high cheek-bones, sallow complexions and
eyes set in bias, and we recognize the Japanese or Chinese at once, even
though dressed in the garb of our country. So, too, we recognize the African
or the Caucasian by certain marked characteristics. This transmission of
racial traits we call race heredity.
Then each race has its own traits, physical or mental, which we recognize
as national, and so speak of them. We always mention thrift as an attribute

of the Teutonic nations; the Irishman we characterize as witty and
pugnacious; the Frenchman as polite; the American as progressive.
Each individual has not only his human inheritance, his race inheritance
and his national characteristics, but he has also an endowment of family
traits.
But we are not made up of odds and ends of ancestral belongings alone.
We have in ourselves something that is original, that makes us different
from each other, and from all others. I have sometimes thought that we are
somewhat like patchwork quilts, the parti-colored blocks being set together
by some solid-colored material; or, better still, we are like "hit and miss"
rag carpets, with a warp of our own individuality, filled in with a woof
made of qualities and capacities of all those who have preceded us. You
know, in making "hit and miss" rag carpets we take little strips and bits of
various materials and all colors, and sew them together without regard to
order or arrangement, and these long strips are woven back and forth in the
warp until the carpet is woven, showing no set pattern, but a mingling of
tints and shades that is sometimes crude and unsightly, sometimes soft and
artistic.
I used, in childhood, to find great delight in seeking among the blended
colors in the carpet for scraps of clothing which I recognized as having
belonged to father or mother, or perhaps even to grandparents. Even now, in
my maturer years, I am interested in finding in myself the physical, mental
or moral characteristics of those same ancestors; and you, no doubt, can do
the same, while some of your traits seem to be yours entirely, constituting
individual variations upon ancestral inheritances.
Nature has been doing for centuries, unheeded, what the photographer of
to-day thinks is a modern discovery, that is, making composite photographs
of us all.
Through this law of inheritance have arisen the intellectual, the moral or
the criminal types of humanity, and the process is continuing; the types are
becoming more and more marked, or modifying influences are being
brought in to change the type.
These influences are also the result of law, even though we may not be
able to trace them to their cause. Knowing this, however, we begin to see

that heredity is not fatality; that the power to modify the endowments of
future generations is ours. To know how to employ it, we should study the
law as far as we have opportunity.
This subject is a large one, and no doubt you will some day want to give
it a thorough investigation. Just now, however, you will have to accept my
statements. I will not make them technical, but strictly practical to you as a
young woman desiring that knowledge which shall best fit you for the
responsibilities of future life.
A superficial study is rather discouraging. We see with what certainty evil
characteristics are transmitted, and we feel that the law is a cruel one; but if
we have patience we shall find that, like all laws of God, its purpose is for
the benefit of the race. Before we begin to take comfort from the law let us
first learn its warnings, one of which is that all weakening of the individual,
either in bodily strength, in intellectual power or moral fiber, tends to
produce a like weakness in posterity. This is why I say to you that the young
people of the present have in their hands the welfare of the future. Their
habits to-day are moulding the possibilities of the race. Young women may
feel that their individual violation of the laws of health is of no importance,
but when they realize that the girls of to-day are the mothers of the future,
and that the physical strength or weakness of each individual girl affects the
average health of the nation, not only now, but it may be through her
posterity for centuries, we can see that each girl's health is a matter of
national and of racial importance.
But it is not alone in the physical organization that we can trace the law
of heredity in the transmission of undesirable qualities. We find that evil
traits and tendencies of mind or morals are transmissible. Galton finds that a
bad temper is quite sure to be passed on from one generation to the next,
and any peculiarity of disposition in either parents is quite likely to become
an inheritance of the child. This fact makes our little faults seem of vastly
more importance than otherwise. We can endure them in ourselves, but they
strike us very unpleasantly when we are obliged to see them manifested in
our children. As the poet says:

"Little faults unheeded, which I now despise;
For my baby took them with her hair and eyes."

It may not strike us very unpleasantly when we speak disrespectfully to
our parents, but when our own children show us lack of courtesy and
cheerful obedience it cuts deeply, and all the more deeply if we see in their
conduct but a repetition of our own.
Of course, if these minor faults are transmissible, we will not be
surprised that graver moral defects are passed on. The grandson of a thief
began to steal at three years of age, and at fourteen was an expert
pickpocket. The police records show the same family names recurring year
after year.
These cases are so grave as to attract attention, while we overlook the
fact that the smaller immoralities are as apt to be transmitted, and perhaps
with increased power. I should be afraid that slight lack of strict integrity in
the father might appear as actual crime in the son.
I would not omit to mention also the law of Atavism, in this discussion of
heredity. This is that expression of the law in the omission of one generation
in the transmission of a quality. We sometimes see the peculiarities or
defects of a man or woman not manifested in their children, but reappearing
in their grandchildren.
Not long ago I was in a family where both parents and all the children
had dark hair but one, and she had long, bright auburn ringlets. I asked,
"Where did you get your hair?"
"From my red-headed grandmother," she answered, with a laugh,
indicating that the matter had been so often discussed in her hearing that she
understood it quite fully.
To cover the whole scope of the law of heredity would take more time
than we have to spare. You can follow out the line of thought, and make
practical application of the facts and principles here laid down.

CHAPTER XXVIII.ToC

HEREDITARY EFFECTS OF ALCOHOL, TOBACCO, ETC.

Civilized life in its progress is accompanied by certain customs and
habits which are detrimental to the individual health, and therefore to
national health. The dress of women is not merely an unimportant matter, to
be made the subject of sneers or jests. Fashions often create deformities,
and are therefore worthy of most philosophic consideration, especially
when we know that the effects of these deformities may be transmitted.
The tightly-compressed waist of the girl displaces her internal organs,
weakens her digestion, and deprives her children of their rightful
inheritance. They are born with lessened vitality, with diminished nerve
power, and are less likely to live, or, living, are more liable not only to grow
up physically weak, but also lacking in mental and moral stamina. This
weakness may manifest itself in immoral tendencies, or in some form of
inebriety. It is now recognized that alcoholism will produce nerve
degeneration, but it is not so well understood that nerve degeneration may
be a factor in producing inebriates from alcohol or other poisons.
Dr. Crothers says: "Hysteria, convulsions, unreasonable anger,
excitement, depression, credulity, skepticism, most unusual emotionalism
and faulty reasoning, are some of the signs of nerve degeneration," and adds
that this central failure of nerve and brain power is often accompanied by a
resulting alcohol or drug inebriety. That is, the weak and degenerate nerves
crave a stimulant, and the weak will yield to the demand, and inebriety
result. If this degeneration of nerve comes from the low vitality given by
the mother, because of her unhealthful habits of dress and life, is it not wise
that in her early womanhood she should know of this possibility, and guard
against it through her care of herself?
She ought also to understand the effect of alcohol and other poisons in
producing nerve degeneration in the individual, and its probability in his
posterity.

George McMichaels says: "The hereditary nature of the abnormal
condition of which inebriety is the outward sign is not understood, even by
physicians, as it should be. It is still, I regret to say, looked upon as a vice
acquired by the individual, the outcome of voluntary wrongdoing. In some
few cases this may be true, but in the majority of instances inquiry into the
family history will reveal the presence of an inherited taint, such families
usually showing a neurotic condition. No position in the social or
intellectual world is, or ever has been, entirely free from the tendency
towards alcoholism, and a study of the family history of the great men who
have fallen victims to alcohol will show that the cause has been identical
with the case among the most obscure of mankind, viz.: That a degenerated
nerve condition has been inherited which renders the sufferer specially
susceptible to this and allied neuroses, such as epilepsy, idiocy and suicide.
The inheritance of an unstable nervous system makes the individual easily
affected by what I must call 'alcoholic surroundings.' In other words, the
provocation to drink which would have no influence upon an ordinary,
stable nervous organization, is sufficient to turn the neurotic into a
confirmed drunkard."
As a young woman you hold great power over the race in yourself, and
through your influence over others, especially over young men. Your
influence, wisely used, may save more than one from a drunkard's fate, and
to use it wisely you should be instructed as to the real character of alcohol
and its effects on the system. I have not time to tell you in minutiæ of the
effects of alcohol, but I must take time to speak of the law of heredity in
this respect.
Idiocy and inebriety are on the increase among civilized peoples. This
startling fact should make us ask the reason.
T.D. Crothers, M.D., who is making a life study of inebriety, states that
from 1870 to 1890 inebriety increased in proportion to the population over
100 per cent., and that a large proportion is the result of inebriety in one or
both parents. It is a sad fact that many women, even of good social
standing, are fond of alcoholic beverages. I saw a very bright, pretty young
woman not long since, at a reception, refuse to take ice-cream or cake, but
drink four glasses of punch, with many jests as to her fondness for the
same, apparently without any glimmering of the thought that she was
drinking to excess, although her flushed face and loudness of manner were

proof of this to those who were witnesses. Many people have an idea that
the finer drinks, such as wine and its various disguises, do not intoxicate,
but in this they are mistaken. All alcoholics are intoxicating in just the
degree that they contain alcohol. The exhilaration of wine is but the first
step of intoxication, and that means always an accompanying lack of
judgment, a lessening of the sense of propriety.
One young woman who, under ordinary circumstances, was most modest
in deportment, drank at her wedding in response to the toasts to her health,
and grew very jovial, until at last she danced a jig on the platform at the
railway station amid the applause of her exhilarated friends, who had
accompanied the young husband and wife to the train, as they started on
their wedding-journey. What a sorrowful and undignified beginning to the
duties of marriage!
There is no absolute safety for either man or woman except in total
abstinence. The débauché knows the effect of wine, and uses that
knowledge to lead astray the young girl who, if herself, would find no
charm in his blandishments, but who, after the wine supper, has no will to
resist his advances.
A young husband exacted of his bride a promise that she would never
take a glass of wine except in his company, and when asked the reason,
replied that he knew that no woman's judgment was to be trusted after
taking one glass of wine.
Another cause of inebriety in women is found in the patent medicines
advertised as a panacea for all pain, which chemical analysis shows to be
largely alcoholic. Many temperance women would be horrified to know that
they are taking alcohol in varying quantity, from 6 to 47 per cent., in the
bitters, tonics and restorative medicines they are using, many of which are
especially advertised as "purely vegetable extracts, perfectly harmless,
sustaining to the nervous system," etc.
The result of inebriety of parents in inflicting injury upon offspring has
not been well understood in the past, but is becoming recognized. Dr.
McMichael says:
"In every form of insanity the disease is more dangerous in the mother
than in the father, as far as the next generation is concerned. This is a good

and sufficient reason why the daughter of drunken parents, very often
attractive to some men by reason of their excitable, vivacious, neurotic
manner, should be carefully avoided by young men in search of wives. The
man who marries the daughter of an inebriate not only endangers his own
happiness, but runs the risk of entailing upon his children an inheritance of
degradation and misery.
"No woman should marry a man who, even occasionally, drinks to
excess. Further, the disposition of the sons of drunken parents ought to be
investigated before any girl becomes engaged to one of them. This is one
instance in which long engagements are not to be condemned, for, if the
man has inherited the alcoholic craving, it may become known in time, and
his fiancée may be saved from the most terrible fate that I can think of—
becoming the wife of a drunkard.
"One word more before I leave this aspect of the subject. As the majority
of inebriates are sufferers from a disease which is partly the result of
hereditary predisposition, it is foolish for any woman to marry a drunkard in
the belief that she can reform him. If women would realize that alcoholism
is a disease and not a vice, they would understand that, while the spirit
which prompts their devotion and self-sacrifice is praiseworthy, yet the
probability of its success is very remote. No doubt there are women who
have made this experiment and who have managed to 'reform,' as it is
called, confirmed inebriates; but such cases are by no means numerous.
While it might not be right to attempt to interfere with any effort to benefit
any representative of suffering humanity, it must be remembered that the
fate of the next generation is at stake, and that unborn children certainly
have rights, although we are very apt to disregard them. Admitting, then,
that anyone is at liberty to risk everything, even life itself, to benefit
another, nevertheless it cannot be said that anyone has a moral right to
jeopardize the future of a family to satisfy any instinct or feeling of
affection, however noble it may be. If what I have written is true, no woman
is justified in marrying a drunkard."
The unstable nervous organization bequeathed by intemperate parents is
like a sword of Damocles over the heads of their unfortunate children, and
even moderate drinkers will not give vigorous bodies and strong wills to
their descendants. One man boasted that he had used a bottle of wine daily
for fifty years, and it had not injured him; but of his twelve children, six

died in infancy, one was imbecile, one was insane, the rest were hysterical
invalids.
And alcohol is not the only substance that inebriates. Opium, morphine,
chloral, cocaine, and all drugs of a similar nature, are dangerous, and each
not only inflicts its injury on the individual, but transmits its results to
posterity in that nerve degeneration which renders the sufferer an easy
victim to all forms of intoxication, and intoxication is nothing more nor less
than poisoning. Opium and morphine are often prescribed by physicians,
and the patient, experiencing the sudden relief from pain, and perhaps not
knowing the danger of indulgence, resorts next time to the delightful pain-
quieter on his own responsibility, and almost before he knows it the habit is
formed, and the weak will that made the easy victim now makes the
unwilling slave, loathing his chains, yet unable to break them; and these
evil habits are, in their effects, transmitted.
Dr. Robertson says: "The part that heredity plays in all functional
diseases or states of the nervous system is not to be misunderstood. It is safe
to assert that no idiopathic case of insanity, chorea, hysteria, megrim,
dipsomania, or moral insanity, can occur except by reason of inherited
predisposition."
The evils of morphinism are even greater than those of alcoholism, and
their transmission no less sure. Especially is there loss of moral power. Dr.
Robertson says: "No matter how honorable, upright and conscientious a
man's past life may have been, let him become thoroughly addicted to
morphine, and I would not believe any statement he might make, either
with reference to the use of the drug or on any other subject that concerned
his habit. This extends further, and clouds his moral perceptions in all
relations of life."
Dr. Brush says: "Cocaine is the only drug the effects of which are more
dangerous and more slavish than the inhalation of the fumes of opium."
The danger in the fast life of this age is that we try to find something that
will enable us to do our excessive undertakings with less feeling of fatigue.
We fail to see in this that we are exhausting our reserve force, instead of
adding to our store of force.

The Popular Science News says that kola, cocoa, chocolate, coffee, tea,
and similar substances make nervous work seem lighter, because they call
out the reserve fund which should be most sacredly preserved, and the
result is nervous bankruptcy. Understanding that nervous bankruptcy of the
parent threatens the welfare of future generations through the law of
heredity, we will surely hesitate to bring ourselves under the strain
produced by the use of these substances.
The most dangerous habit of the present would almost seem to be the
tobacco habit, because it is considered quite respectable and is therefore
almost universal. Men who are prominent, not only as statesmen and
business men, but also as moral leaders, smoke with no apparent
recognition of the evils, and lads can often sanction their beginning of the
habit by the fact that a certain pastor or Sunday-school superintendent is a
smoker.
But science has not been idle in regard to the investigation of the effects
of tobacco, and the discoveries made have been published, so that we are
not now ignorant of the tobacco heart, or tobacco throat, or tobacco nerves,
nor of the transmission of nerve degeneracy to the children of smokers.
Girls sometimes think it is a great joke to smoke cigarettes for fun, and
some grow into the habit of smoking, but the injury is not lessened by the
fact that the use of the cigarette was begun in jest, nor that the user is a
woman.
In fact, the Medical Times is quite inclined to assert that much of the
neurasthenia, including a general disturbance of the digestive organs, now
so common in that portion of the female sex who have ample means and
leisure to indulge in any luxury agreeable to their taste, or which, for the
time being, may contribute to their enjoyment, is due to narcotics.
During the Civil War we are told that 13 per cent. of all men examined
were excluded as unfit for military service. We are now told that 31 per
cent. are found to be unfit. Nearly one-third of the young men found
physically incompetent to be soldiers! From what cause? Certainly tobacco
must bear a large share of the blame.
Some years ago Major Houston, of the Naval School at Annapolis, made
the statement that one-fifth of the boys who applied for admittance were

rejected on account of heart disease, and that 90 per cent. of these had
produced the heart difficulty by the use of tobacco.
Dr. Pidduch asserts that "the hysteria, the hypochondriasis, the
consumption, the dwarfish deformities, the suffering lives and early deaths
of the children of inveterate smokers, bear ample testimony to the
feebleness of constitution which they have inherited."
Girls sometimes have the idea that a little wildness in a young man is
rather to be admired. On one occasion a young woman left a church where
she had heard a lecture on the evils of using tobacco, saying, as she went
out, "I would not marry a young man if he did not smoke. I think it looks
manly, and I don't want a husband who is not a man among men."
Years after, when her three babies died, one after the other, with infantile
paralysis, because their father was an inveterate smoker, the habit did not
seem to her altogether so admirable, and when she herself became a
confirmed invalid, because compelled to breathe night and day a nicotine-
poisoned atmosphere, she gave loud voice to her denunciation of the very
habit which in her ignorant girlhood she had characterized as manly.

CHAPTER XXIX.ToC

EFFECTS OF IMMORALITY ON THE RACE.

There is another influence at work in causing race degeneracy concerning
which the majority of girls are ignorant, and that is immorality. The
prevalent idea that young men must "sow their wild oats" is accepted by
many young women as true, and they think if the lover reforms before
marriage and remains true to them thereafter, that is all they can reasonably

demand. They will not make such excuses for themselves for lapses from
virtue, but they imbibe the idea that men are not to be held to an absolute
standard of purity, and so think it delicate to shut their eyes to the
derelictions of young men. This chapter of human life is a sorrowful one to
read, but to heed its warnings would save many a girl from sorrow, many a
wife from heartache.
The law of God is not a double law, holding woman to the most rigid
code of a "thou shalt not" and allowing men the liberty of a "thou mayest."
The penalty inflicted for the violation of moral law is one of the most
severe, both in its effects upon the individual transgressor and upon his
descendants. The most dreadful scourge of physical disease, as well as
moral degeneracy, follows an impure life. This disease, known as syphilis,
is practically incurable. It may temporarily disappear, only to reappear in
some other form later in life; and even after all signs have become quiescent
in the man, they may reappear in his children in some form of transmission.
Even one lapse from virtue is enough to taint the young man with this
dreadful poison, which may be in after years communicated to his innocent
wife or transmitted to his children.
Dr. Guernsey says: "I do not overdraw the picture when I declare that
millions of human beings die annually from the effects of poison contracted
in this way, in some form of suffering or other; for, by insinuating its effects
into and poisoning the whole man, it complicates various disorders and
renders them incurable. This horrible infection sometimes becomes
engrafted upon other acute diseases, when lingering disorders follow,
causing years of misery, and only terminating in death. Sometimes the
poison attacks the throat, causing most destructive alterations therein.
Sometimes it seizes upon the nasal bones, resulting in their entire
destruction and an awful disfigurement of the face. Sometimes it ultimates
itself in the ulceration and destruction of other osseous tissues in different
portions of the body. Living examples of these facts are too frequently
witnessed in the streets of any large city. Young men marrying with the
slightest taint of this poison in the blood will surely transmit the disease to
their children. Thousands of abortions transpire every year from this cause
alone, the poison being so destructive as to kill the child in utero, before it
is matured for birth; and even if the child be born alive, it is liable to break
down with most loathsome disorders of some kind and die during dentition;

the few that survive this period are short-lived, and are unhealthy so long as
they do live. The first unchaste connection of a man with a woman may be
attended with a contamination entailing upon him a life of suffering, and
even death itself. Almost imperceptible in its origin, it corrupts the whole
body, makes the very air offensive to surrounding friends, and lays
multitudes literally to rot in the grave. It commences in one part of the
body, and usually, in more or less degree, extends to the whole system, and
is said by most eminent physicians to be a morbid poison, having the power
of extending itself to every part of the body into which it is infused, and to
other persons with whom it in any way comes in contact, so that even its
moisture, communicated by linen or otherwise, may corrupt those who
unfortunately touch it."
If girls were aware of all this they would not only be careful how they
marry immoral men, but they would shrink from personal contact with them
as from a viper. Not one, but many girls who have held somewhat lax ideas
concerning the propriety of allowing young men to be familiar have reaped
the result in a contamination merely through the touch of the lips. To-day a
young woman in good social standing is a sufferer from this cause. She was
acquainted with a young man of respectable family, but immoral life. His
gaiety had a fascination for her, and his reputed wildness only added to the
charm. On one evening, as he escorted her home, and took leave of her on
the doorstep, she allowed him to kiss her. It chanced that at the time she had
a small sore on her lip. The poisonous touch of his lips conveyed the
infection through this slight abrasion, and she became tainted with the
syphilitic virus, and to-day bears the loathsome disfigurement in
consequence. I do not need to multiply such cases. You can be warned by
one as well as by a hundred.[2]
A young woman of pure life married a man whose reputation was bad,
but whose social position was high. To-day she is suffering from the
horrible disease which he communicated to her, and her children have died
or are betraying to the world in their very faces the story of their father's
wrong deeds. Truly you cannot afford to be ignorant of facts so grave as
these.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] For an extended presentation of the character and diseases which accompany
vice, the reader is referred to the chapters which treat of this subject in "What a
Young Man Ought to Know." Every young woman should be intelligent upon
these important subjects. There is nothing in this book to young men which a
young woman approaching maturity may not know, both with propriety and
benefit, so that she may most successfully protect herself from possible
companionship with well-dressed and polite but impure young men by discreetly
placing the book in the hands of her father and brothers, that they may become
intelligent concerning the dangers against which they can most successfully
protect her. It might not be improper for her, after due acquaintance, to see that
the book is placed in the hands of the one who seeks to become her husband and
the father of her children, that she may at the proper time, and before it is too
late, learn whether he has always lived by the standards of social purity which
are there set up, and whether he is able to bring to the union the same unsullied
life and character which he expects and requires of her.

CHAPTER XXX.ToC

THE GOSPEL OF HEREDITY.

I have often heard people say that God was unjust in making this law of
heredity and compelling innocent children to bear the sins of the guilty
parents, and at first thought it might so seem; but God is a God of justice
and also of mercy, and our study of His laws in their ultimate outcome leads
us to know that they are invariably made for our welfare. Let us see, then, if
we cannot find something encouraging even in this law of heredity. Are the
majority of people born straight or deformed, sick or well, honest or
dishonest? You may ask, Are all of these conditions a matter of heredity?

Certainly. The fact that we are human beings instead of animals, that we
have our due proportion of organs and faculties, that we are not
monstrosities or imbeciles, are all hereditary conditions. We see, then, that
the law of heredity insures to us our full complement of organs and
capabilities, as well as the more pronounced characteristics which we the
more readily recognize as inheritances. The fact is that inheritance of good
is so universal that we fail to think of it.
When the baby is "well-favored" and straight-limbed, no credit is given
to heredity; but if he is in some way out of the ordinary, we blame the law
that has fixed on him some result of parental conduct.
If he possesses a good mentality, it scarcely occurs to us that this is just
as surely heredity as is the transmission of the mental weakness of some
ancestor.
By the Gospel of Heredity I mean this brighter side, this "Good-tidings"
of the law. In the first written Biblical record of the law, where the
statement is made that the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children to
the third and fourth generation, we have also the statement of the "Good-
tidings" that the Lord sheweth mercy to thousands of them that love him
and keep his commandments; and that means not thousands of individuals,
but thousands of generations. Justice is meted to the third and fourth, but
mercy to thousands of generations.
All through the Scriptures we find this brighter phase of the law
enunciated. Perhaps you would like to study both the law and the Gospel
from the Bible. I will give you some texts and you can find them for
yourself. It would be interesting also for you to read the lives of men and
women of renown, and observe the transmission of talents and capabilities.
Encouraging as this view of the subject may be, it is by no means the
brightest side of the subject of heredity, for if we have inherited no special
talents, and if we are handicapped by the transmitted results of the sins of
our ancestors, we may say "There is no hope for us, nor for our children."
To us then will come, as special "Good-tidings of great joy," the news that
heredity is not fatality. We are not obliged to sit and quietly bear the fetters
our ancestors have forged for us. We can break the chains, we can free
ourselves. It may be difficult, but it can be done, and a great incentive to the

effort is found in the fact that by success we not only improve ourselves,
but we can pass on a better inheritance to our posterity.
We may cultivate our health by obedience to its laws so as to overcome
inherited weaknesses to a very great extent. We are not absolutely obliged
to die with consumption because one of our parents did. By simple living,
and especially by deep breathing of pure air, we may so strengthen
ourselves that we will have the power to resist the encroachments of the
germ of tuberculosis.
We may be born with weak digestive power, but by plain, wholesome
fare, by freedom from worry, by a careful attention to all healthful habits,
we may grow strong and free from dyspeptic symptoms.
We can by cultivation of our minds and morals not only increase our own
powers, but add to the powers of our posterity.
Then, too, the effects of mental education are transmissible; not the
education itself, but an increased capacity, a new tendency. Every mental
activity is accompanied by an actual modifying influence on brain structure,
so that we are really building our brains by our thoughts, and this increase
of our own brains is transmissible to posterity.
I know that some of our philosophers assert strongly that acquired
characteristics are not transmitted, and their theories seem quite plausible;
but I would rather accept facts than theories any time, and Professor Elmer
Gates has demonstrated that this theory does not accord with the facts. He
has trained dogs until they could recognize seven or eight shades of green
or red. The brains of these dogs, so trained, show under the microscope a
great increase of brain-cells in the visual area, proving that the education
has created actual brain material. The progeny of these dogs, to several
generations, shows at birth a much larger number of brain-cells in the visual
area than is the case where the ancestry has not been so strained.
Where the dogs have been brought up in absolute darkness there is a
great lack of cells in the visual area, both in these dogs and in their progeny.
This is the brief statement of a most hopeful and encouraging fact.
We look to the dark side of the law of heredity for our warning. It makes
us solemnly thoughtful in view of our power over the race in the transmitted
result from our own wrongdoing; and then, when we feel overwhelmed and

discouraged, we turn towards the Gospel of Heredity and take hope from
the fact that good is transmissible; and, more than that, we have it in our
power so to modify our own characters, tendencies and habits that we can,
in all probability, give our children a better dower than we received, and the
earlier in life we begin this making over of ourselves the better.
I have heard people excuse themselves for all manner of faults on the
plea that they were inheritances, and therefore could not be overcome. That
is to declare that we are slaves, with no chance to acquire freedom, and I am
not willing to admit that.
"Whereas in Adam all die, in Christ may all be made alive." That is, that
while under the Law of Heredity we are fettered, under the Gospel of
Heredity our chains may be broken and we become free.
There is much of encouragement in the poem of Ella Wheeler Wilcox on
heredity:

"There is no trait you cannot overcome.
Say not thy evil instinct is inherited,
Or that some trait inborn makes thy whole life forlorn,
And calls for punishment that is not merited.

"Back of thy parents and grandparents lies
[246]
The great Eternal Will, that, too, is thine
Inheritance—strong, beautiful, divine;
Sure lever of success for one who tries.

"Pry up thy fault with this great lever—will;
However deeply bedded in propensity;
However firmly set, I tell thee firmer yet
Is that great power that comes from truth's immensity.

"There is no noble height thou canst not climb;
All triumphs may be thine in time's futurity,
If, whatsoe'er thy fault, thou dost not faint or halt,
But lean upon the staff of God's security.

"Earth has no claim the soul cannot contest;

Know thyself part of the supernal source,
And naught can stand before thy spirit's force;
The soul's divine inheritance is best."

BIBLE TEXTS BEARING ON THE SUBJECT OF HEREDITY.

Natural Heredity.
Law.—Gen. 1:12-24; Ex. 20:6; Num. 14:18.
Sins visited.—Job 21:17-19; Ps. 37:28; Jer. 32:18.
Blessings.—Gen. 22:17, 18; Deut. 4:40; 5:29; 30:19; Ps. 21:13; 37:18,
22, 26, 29; 103:17, 18; 112:1, 2; 128:3; Prov. 10:25; 11:19; 13:22; 17:6;
20:7; Isa. 48:18, 19; Jer. 32:18.

Divine Heredity.
Isa. 43:16; Jer. 3:19; Mal. 2:10; Matt. 5:9, 45, 48; 6:4, 6, 9, 14, 15, 18,
26; John 20:17; Rom. 8:16, 17; Gal. 4:7; Eph. 4:6; 2 Peter 1:4; 1 John 3:2;
5:1.

CHAPTER XXXI.ToC

REQUISITES OF A HUSBAND.

Having spent so much time in the study of principles and laws, we will
now return to the discussion of this concrete case. What can you decide in
regard to this individual young man to whom you think you have given
your heart? What is he in his inheritance? What is he in himself? I do not
ask that he shall have inherited wealth, for that often proves a young man's
ruin, but does he come of an honest, industrious family? Have you just
reason to suppose that he will make a fair success of life? Is his father
shiftless, lazy, improvident? If so, it will be harder for him to be provident,
business-like. Has he true ideas of the dignity of life and his own
responsibility? Is he looking for an "easy job," or does he purpose to give a
fair equivalent for all that he receives? Would he rather toil at honest
manual labor than be supported by a rich father-in-law?
What are his ideas as to his responsibility in the founding of a home?
How will he look upon his wife? As an equal, a companion, or as a
plaything, a petted child, or a sort of upper servant? What value does he put
upon the wife's labor in the conducting of the household? Will he consider
that the money he hands over to her is a gift from him, or only a fair
recognition of the value of her work, a rendering to her of her share in the
family purse?
What is his estimate of woman? Is she an individual with rights, with
intellect and heart, with a judgment to be consulted, opinions worthy of
recognition, or only an appendage to man, created for his comfort and to be
held in her "sphere" by his will?
What are his defects of temper, or his weaknesses of body? Of course, to
you now he seems perfection, and yet he is a human being, fallible and
imperfect. If his faults are similar to yours, you double the possibility of
their inheritance by your children. If you both have a tendency to lung
trouble, the probabilities are that your children will have consumption. If
you both are of rheumatic proclivities, you may expect a manifestation of
the same early in the life of your children. If you both are "nervous" or
irritable in temper, both jealously inclined, or are morbid and melancholy,
you need not be surprised at an intensifying of these qualities in your little
ones.
If there are more serious family traits, such as insanity, epilepsy,
alcoholism and the like, it might even be your duty never to run the risk of

their transmission.
I once spoke on heredity when in the audience sat a young man by the
side of his fiancée, who, I was afterwards told, had been in an insane
asylum three times, and yet he purposed marrying her.
I know a clergyman who has wisely dedicated himself to a celibate life
because there is marked insanity in his family.
You chafe a little under this reiteration of the duty you owe to children
yet unborn, and who may possibly never exist, and perhaps you say, as I
have heard girls say, "Oh, I don't mean to have any children;" and perhaps
you add, "I don't see why people may not marry and be happy just by
themselves without having children."
It is not strange that you should not understand all that is involved in
such a statement. It is true that some married people do not have children,
and are comparatively happy, and yet perhaps if we could read their hearts
we should find that the one great longing of their lives is for the blessing of
a child.
It is natural to desire to know the joys of parenthood. In the home,
through the cares and love, the anxiety, self-sacrifice, tenderness and
patience which accompany parenthood, the education of the individual is
made most complete and perfect.
The girl who marries without a willingness to accept these
responsibilities is willing to sacrifice that which, rightly borne, will bring
her the highest development. If she purposes deliberately to avoid
motherhood she puts herself in a position of moral peril, for such immunity
is not often secured except at the risk of criminality. I say not often,
although I believe that if husband and wife are actuated by the worthy
motive of not inflicting on posterity some dower of woe, they are justified
in a marriage that does not contemplate parenthood, if they are of lofty
purpose enough to live solely in mental and spiritual companionship. But
all attempts to secure the pleasure of a physical relation and escape its
legitimate results are a menace to the health and a degradation to the moral
nature. This subject, and the questions arising therefrom, will be discussed
more fully in the next book of this series, "What a Young Wife Ought to
Know."

But how is a girl to know all these things concerning her lover's ideas,
thoughts, principles, and purposes? Many of these you think cannot be
known until after marriage, and then it is too late. That is true; therefore be
wise and learn all you can of each other's habits, peculiarities, opinions, and
predilections now, before it is too late. Talk over business matters. Find out
what your lover's ideas are as to the wife's right to a pecuniary recognition
of the value of her labor in making the home. Does he think that she earns
nothing, and that what he gives her of his money is a donation for which
she gives no return? I know a young woman who had been self-supporting
before her marriage who felt timid about asking her husband for money. So
she wore her wedding garments until they were shabby, went without
money when her own funds were exhausted, and kept silent for five years,
and her husband—a young clergyman—never thought to ask her if she
needed anything, never observed her growing shabbiness. When at last she
summoned courage to tell him her needs, he was overwhelmed with regret
for his own lack of thought and observation, and yet he could not
understand why she should hesitate to ask for money. "Why, it is all yours,
dear," he said. "You were only asking for what already belongs to you." And
many young husbands are just as obtuse, therefore they should receive in
advance the instruction that is needed to prevent a possibility of such
neglect. Have it understood that if you are worthy to be trusted as a bearer
of the name and a sharer of the fortunes of a man, you are worthy to share
also the burden of the knowledge of his business experiences, and to bear
the responsibility of economically guarding his interests in the expenditure
of money which, by your love and care and labor, you have helped him to
earn.
I think a young woman should know something of the personal habits of
her future husband. Does he like fresh air, or does he want the windows
hermetically sealed at night. Is he a believer in the godliness of cleanliness?
I have just read of two people who married after a six week's acquaintance,
knowing nothing of each other's antecedents, personal habits, caprices or
principles. The man proved to be a regular hypochondriac, taking medicine
constantly, at one time with five doctors prescribing for him. He counted his
pulse at every odd moment, and looked at his tongue instead of at the eyes
of his wife, as he had done when a lover. He had a dread of pure air, and
was as averse to bathing as a cat. The woman had lived in the open air,
taken a daily morning bath, and was disgusted with those who did not do

likewise. The writer says, "She stormed, took her baths, and opened the
windows; he cried, took no baths, shut the windows, and called the
doctors." There is no need to depict the unhappiness of the home, and yet
no doubt the girl would have been shocked had anyone suggested that she
inquire into these facts concerning her lover. But if she had been less
romantic and more practical, if she had remembered that the marriage
contract would bind her for life to one who would be more closely
connected with her than anyone else could be, and this union for life, by
day and by night, constant, continuous, and not to be annulled by any such
small matters as bad breath or unpleasant personal habits, perhaps she
would have considered it no small matter to discover the possible causes of
disgust before they became fixtures in her life.
And perhaps, also, she would have given her own personal habits more
consideration. True love will endure much, but it sometimes dies in the
presence of untidiness, of carelessness as to dress or room, or lack of
sweetness of person or of breath. If you demand much of a husband, he has
a right to demand just as much from you. If there are habits concerning
which you would rather he as a lover should be ignorant, believe me that it
is even more important that as a husband he should not know them.
Therefore employ your available time before marriage to rid yourself of
them. If a lover would be disenchanted to see the room from which his
blooming, beauteous adored one had departed, bearing the marks of
carelessness and disorder, with soiled clothing, unmade bed, shoes, hose
and dresses all in tumbled heaps on chairs and floor, remember that the
marriage ceremony does not make such a room more attractive to the
husband, who must not only see but share its discomforts.
In addition to the knowledge of each other's personal peculiarities there
should be an understanding of each other's ideas as to the duties and
responsibilities of their proposed relation to each other. I lately received a
letter from a young woman who asks, "How freely do you think two
engaged young people may talk concerning their future life? Would it not
be indelicate for them to discuss their future relations, the possibility and
responsibilities of parenthood, etc.?"
I answer, that depends on the young people. If they have false ideas, if
they have little or no scientific knowledge, if their thoughts are filled with
wrong mental pictures, they will not know how to talk wisely and

beneficially. But these two young people are intelligent, are scientifically
educated, are Christians. Their hearts are pure, their standards high, their
motives praiseworthy. It would seem that they might talk as freely as their
inclination would prompt. In fact there seems to me more indelicacy and
more danger from long evenings spent in murmuring ardent protestations of
love and indulging in embraces and endearments than in a frank, serious
conversation on the realities and responsibilities of marriage, an exchange
of earnest thoughts, voiced in chaste, well-chosen language—a
conversation which by its very solemnity is lifted out of the realm of sense-
pleasure into the dignified domain of science and morality.

CHAPTER XXXII.ToC

ENGAGEMENTS.

There now sparkles on your finger a ring that symbolizes the promise
you have given to become a wife. You are engaged, and there now arises in
your mind the query as to the conduct of yourselves during this period of
engagement: How much of privilege shall you grant your lover? As you are
promised to each other for life, are you not warranted in assuming towards
each other greater personal familiarity? May you not with perfect modesty
allow endearments and caresses that hitherto have not been permissible?
I take it for granted that you are not one of those unwise young women
who permit themselves to become engaged for fun; who consider an
engagement as of so little seriousness that it may be made and broken
without regret. I have known girls who even enter into engagements just in
order to feel justified in greater freedom of conduct without compunction of

conscience. If such engagements do not violate the code of
conventionalities they certainly infringe upon the moral code.
It is not strange that girls should fail to see all the dangers of such
conduct—that they should not comprehend that thus they become sources
of temptation to their lovers, and may even imperil their own safety.
But your engagement is an honest one, your love is true, based upon
thorough acquaintance; you have mutual respect and entire confidence in
each other. May you not now throw aside much of the restrictions that have
surrounded your association and manifest your affection in reciprocal
demonstrations?
We often read the advice to young people not to enter upon long
engagements, and the reason given is that it exacts too much in the way of
self-control, is too great a nervous strain, is too full of peril. I would like to
quote just here a few words by Dr. C.W. Eaton:
"Away with the sexual argument against engagements, and let us all set
about that cultivation of will and purpose which can make the weakest a
tower of strength and the arbiter of his own destiny; and let us say to our
appetites, Thus far shalt thou come and no farther, neither shalt thou
presume to deny to thy master the best earthly companionship which may
come into his life. It may be a far harder task than the ardent and poetical
lover allows himself at first to think, but the hardest battles are best worth
the fighting; and what manner of men should we become if we
systematically evaded life's conflicts, instead of meeting them squarely and
fighting them through manfully? Dr. Bourgeois says: 'The ancient custom of
betrothals is the safeguard for the purity of morals and the happy
association of man and wife. This institution was known to the Greeks, the
Hebrews, the Romans, and during the Middle Ages. In Germany it has still
preserved its poetical and moral character. The young people are sometimes
affianced many years before their marriage. We see the young man, thus
betrothed, with heart full of his chaste love, absent himself for a time in
order to finish his education, to perform his studies of science or art, his
apprenticeship to a trade, and to prepare himself for manly life. He returns
to his betrothed with a soul which has remained pure, with a reason
enlarged and fortified. Then both are ripe for the austere duties of marriage.

"'Chaste love, consecrated by betrothals, can be cultivated in the midst of
work. It lightens toil, it banishes ennui, it illumines the horizon of life with
delightful prospects; it excites in the young man the manly courage and the
high intelligence to create for himself a position in the world; in woman, the
noble ambition to perfect herself to become a worthy companion and good
adviser.
"'During the stormy period of youth it is the only means of preserving the
virgin purity of the heart and of the body. Does anyone believe that young
men who in good season have in their hearts a love strong and worthy of
them would profane themselves, as they so often otherwise do, in vile
affections, in those relations of a day, giving themselves a holocaust to
beauty without soul, or even to licentiousness without beauty?'"
Emerson says: "If, however, from too much conversing with material
objects the soul was gross, and misplaced its satisfaction in the body, it
reaped nothing but sorrow, body being unable to fulfill the promise which
beauty holds out; but if, accepting the hint of these visions and suggestions
which beauty makes to his mind, the soul passes through the body and fails
to admire strokes of character, and the lovers contemplate one another in
their discourses and their actions, then they pass to the true palace of
beauty, more and more inflame their love of it, and by this love
extinguishing the base affection, as the sun puts out fire by shining on the
hearth, they become pure and hallowed. By conversation with that which is
in itself excellent, magnanimous, lowly and just, the lover comes to a
warmer love of these nobilities, and a quicker apprehension of them. Then
he passes from loving them in one to loving them in all, and so is the one
beautiful soul only the door through which he enters to the society of all
true and pure souls. In the particular society of his mate he attains a clearer
sight of any spot, any taint which her beauty has contracted from this world,
and is able to point it out, and this with mutual joy that they are now able,
without offense, to indicate blemishes and hindrances in each other, and
give to each all help and comfort in curing the same. And beholding in
many souls the traits of the divine beauty, and separating in each soul that
which is divine from the taint which it has contracted in the world, the lover
ascends to the highest beauty, to the love and knowledge of the Divinity, by
steps on this ladder of created souls."

And this all means that when the thought of the sex-relation constitutes in
the mind of either the idea of marriage, then the wedding ceremony will be
supposed to remove all restrictions, and the only limit of gratification will
be the limit of desire. Under these circumstances the close familiarity of a
long engagement would be a mental and physical tax, because the self-
control exercised is felt to be only temporary, and will be no longer needed
when the wedding ceremony has been said.
But if the idea of marriage is nobler, if the sex-relation is consecrated to
its highest purpose of reproduction, if marriage is felt to be only an added
opportunity for self-control, which will be more difficult then because there
will be no restraint except that which is self-imposed, then the engagement
will be felt to be a time of gradual preparation for that closer relationship
which needs more will-power because opportunity is greater.
Under these conditions the lovers will be aiming towards an ideal which
recognizes that in wedded life all that is lasting in affection, in tender
courtesy, in most intimate companionship, in sweetest demonstration, is
possible without the physical union, which in itself is the most transitory of
pleasures, but which in unlimited indulgence becomes the most
domineering of passions, exhaustive of physical power and of mental vigor,
and absolutely annihilating all true love.
If you ask why there should exist this marvelous drawing of the sexes
towards each other if their relation is not based upon the exercise of sex-
functions, I reply that sex is more than its local expression; it is inherent in
mind as well as body, and therefore sexual power may be expressed in
masculine courage, energy or daring, or in feminine constancy, self-
abnegation, or sweet courtesy. Sexual attraction is not limited to the local
expression, nor creative power to reproduction of kind, but may give a
stimulus to the intellectual companionship of men and women, and result in
the creation of nobler ideals and grander aspirations.
Having settled in your mind your attitude towards your lover, let us
consider what it shall be towards your family during these days of the
engagement. Naturally you will not feel a separation from the home circle
as keenly as do the other members of your family. You two are so absorbed
in each other, are so busy exchanging ideas, in becoming acquainted, that
you are oblivious to the change brought about in your family. You think you

two ought to be allowed the privilege of tête-à-têtes, for of course you
cannot talk freely together in the hearing of others. This is true. You should
have times of seclusion, when, without a sense of oppression through fear
of criticism or jesting, you can rhapsodize, or quote poetry and open your
hearts' treasures to each other. But you still owe a duty to your home.
Doubtless your mother is not now as necessary to your happiness as you are
to hers. She is thinking of you with most tender solicitude, she misses your
presence, she already begins to feel the loneliness of the inevitable
separation. If you are thoughtful you will see to it that the separation does
not begin sooner than is necessary. Then, too, your parents need to get
acquainted with this new member whom you are to introduce into the
family, and he needs to know them. He will think none the less of you if he
sees that you do not allow him to monopolize you entirely, that you
recognize your obligations to the family and that you expect him to
recognize them also, and, in addition, his obligations to show them due
courtesy and attention. He is not to absorb you entirely, to take you out of
the home circle, but he is to come in and be a part of it, even as you are to
become one in the home of which he is a member. You need to remember
that he is son and brother to women who loved him long before you knew
him, and that he still owes them attention and thoughtful, affectionate
courtesy.
Never allow yourself to feel jealous of his mother or sisters. The fact that
he is a loving, thoughtful son and brother is in a measure a guarantee that he
will be a loving, thoughtful husband.
Let me add to this advice a word more. Do not allow yourself to feel
jealous of him in any way. Jealousy is the quintessence of selfishness, and
no other passion is so destructive of happiness, so full of the contagion of
evil. If your lover is not to be trusted, you would be wise to end the
engagement at once. If he is to be trusted, that trust should be absolute. I
said you should not allow him to monopolize you, neither should you
attempt to monopolize him. There are other people in the world besides
yourself, and other occupations than the business of waiting on you. If you
make him feel that he dare not speak to anyone but you, that he dare not
think of anything but you, he will begin to chafe under the restraint and feel
a desire to break the bonds that are becoming fetters. If he were not your
acknowledged lover, if you were anxious to win his love, but were a little

uncertain as to your power to do so, you would not meet him with tears and
upbraidings because he had for one moment seemed to forget you, but you
would at once use every possible effort to make yourself more attractive in
his eyes than any other person could possibly be. You will be wise to use
those same tactics now, even though his allegiance is pledged to you. Be so
charming that no one else can be considered so entertaining; that no one
else can be so wise, so witty, so sympathetic, so altogether lovely, that
everything but yourself is forgotten; and then believe in him so absolutely
that he could not possibly swerve in his fidelity to you. Have you ever
thought that to accuse one of a certain wrong act may be just the way to
suggest to him the possibility of committing it? If one trusts you implicitly,
that very trust is a constant suggestion to be true, and doubt is a suggestion
to act worthy of being doubted.
You must trust each other or you have no sure foundation for future love
and happiness. It needs a great deal of good common sense to learn how to
live happily in marriage. You may have chosen wisely. The man may be
honest, pure, kindly, intelligent, and Christian, but he is human, therefore
not perfect. He has faults, peculiarities, moods, perhaps tempers, and he
will probably not wait until you are married to begin to show them. There
will come differences of opinions, divergences in desires, clashings in
judgment. Now is the time to display your tact, to learn how to express an
opposing opinion without arousing antagonism, to yield a desire for the
sake of a greater love than that of self, to adhere to principle without
unpleasant discussion; in short, to be dignified and womanly without
pettiness or littleness of any kind. You remember the words of Ruskin, that
the woman must be "incorruptibly good, instinctively, infallibly wise, not
for self-development, but for self-renunciation," and that will be the highest
development.
No doubt you will think that some of this advice should be given to
young men as well as to young women, and I think so too, and were I
talking to your lover I could say many warning words; but just now I am
telling you things that he does not need to hear, and I do not need to tell you
what, if I had the chance, I would say to him. You are to train yourself and
not him, and yet I would not have you ignorant of your power over him in
developing in him all that is noblest and best. You should hold him ever to
his highest ideals. He should never feel so absolutely sure of your adoration

as to imagine that it will endure a lowering of his standards. You have been
posing a little before each other. Doubtless you were not aware of this, but,
now that you have each gained the heart of the other, you may sometimes
feel that you can relax; but this is a dangerous error. You should continue to
be as thoughtful, as courteous, as careful as ever; you should endeavor
really to be all that you have tried or appeared to be during these days of
courtship. You will be none too perfect even then.
Once, in talking to a group of women, I asserted that a wife should exact
of her husband as high a tone of morality as of her lover, that she should not
allow him to become lax in his conversation with her any more than with
any other woman. One woman thought me too strict. She said men liked to
feel that at home they could do as they pleased, and would resent a wife's
interference with their right to be loose in their talk in their own home. I
replied that the home is not the man's nor the woman's alone; it is theirs
jointly; that each has a right to demand that the other shall not pollute or
poison the air, the food, the water or the moral atmosphere; and the wife
who allows contamination of the thought-atmosphere of the home is as
culpable as if she were to permit poison to be put into the food.
As a man admires the girl who respects herself too much to permit him to
tell her questionable stories, so will he reverence the wife who refuses to
allow him to degrade himself in her presence either by speech or conduct.
Love would not so often fail if wives knew the secret of retaining it, and
that is not by sacrifice of principle, nor by tearful reproaches and
upbraidings, but by being true to the highest impulses, and while having the
good common sense that can make all reasonable allowance for fallibility,
still permits no lowering of moral standards, no willful falling short of the
very best.

CHAPTER XXXIII.ToC

THE WEDDING.

Said my friend:

There's to be a grand wedding, you know,
With no end to the fuss and parade,
With sixteen fair bridesmaids to stand in a row,
With sixteen young groomsmen to help out the show,
One to stand by the side of each maid.

Then there's a reception to be very fine,
With all sorts of magnificent things,
With silver to glitter and mirrors to shine,
With tropical fruit and famous old wine,
With odorous flowers and music divine,
Drawn forth from melodious strings.

In the minds of many girls the wedding means only this public show, the
display of elegant toilets, the reception of costly gifts; and the preparation
of marriage means too often merely the making of an elegant trousseau.
People generally do not ask concerning the fitness of the young people to
enter on the solemn duties of life—do not ask how well they have been
instructed concerning that which is before them; but the questions are all
about clothes and gifts and ceremonials. No wonder, then, that the thought
of the young woman centers on these things, to the exclusion of nearly all
else; indeed, it may be to the detriment of health and the lessening of true
happiness. The prospective husband finds his fiancée so absorbed in
sewing, shopping and interviews with dressmakers that she has few
moments to give to him, and these few occupied more with the thought of
gowns and personal adornments than with ideals of wedded happiness.
Perhaps she even excuses herself for lessening the number of his visits on
the plea that very soon now she will be all his, and so he is left to spend his
last days of bachelorhood in loneliness, and made to feel that raiment is
more than love. Worse still, it may be that on the wedding-day he takes to
his heart a bride so wearied, so nervously exhausted by the preparations of

the trousseau that she is at least temporarily an invalid. I have known more
than one bride so worn out by the preparation for her wedding that instead
of bringing brightness, joy and beauty into the new life, she brought illness,
anxiety and care, and made demands at once upon the patience and service
of the husband, who had a right to expect health and vigor and a power to
enjoy.
I knew a sensible girl who said months before her marriage, "I am not
going to bring to my new life a remnant of health, a shattered nervous
system and a tattered temper," and she kept her word. Her sewing was done
by degrees, and was all out of the way weeks before the wedding. Shopping
and dressmaking were never allowed to interfere with the walks and drives,
the chats and moonlight strolls. "We shall not be able to repeat this
experience," she wisely said, and so her lover found her ever ready to give
him her society and her thought. Her trousseau was not elaborate, her
wedding-dress was simple, but in it she shone like a flower of the morning,
full of brightness and health and joy.
She was wise in other respects. Only her intimate friends were invited to
the wedding ceremony, and to these she said, "I want you to feel that it is
you I invite, not your gifts. If your love impels you to give me some simple
memento of yourself it will be cherished, but I'd rather have a pincushion
made by your own hand, or a little flower painted by yourself, than the most
costly purchased picture or most elegant piece of silver that you bought,
because you thought it was expected. And if, when you come, you bring no
gift but your love and blessing, I shall feel that that is the richest treasure."
There was no display of presents to a vulgar curiosity, no collection of
duplicate butter-knives or berry-spoons to be secretly disposed of after the
wedding. The gifts were few and not costly, but each told its own story of
personal affection, and therefore really had a meaning.
This sensible young woman introduced another innovation into her
wedding. She would not listen to the suggestion of a bridal tour. "I do not
want to be stared at and commented on by strangers," she said. "Let us go to
some quiet spot in the mountains or by the sea, and let us live with each
other and with nature." In after years she often said, "I would not miss from
my memory the picture of those happy days for anything that any trip on
railway trains and sojourns at hotels could give me. We had time and

opportunity to learn each other's souls as we could not have done amid 'the
madding crowd;' and we have loved each other more truly, I know, because
in those early wedded days we sat with Nature and Nature's God in the true
companionship which such solitude alone can bring."
I never see the parade of a fashionable wedding that I am not reminded of
her and of a sad contrast to her experience, when two young people were
married amid a blaze of light, a rain of flowers, and under the curious eyes
of hundreds of strangers took their wedding tour, while the papers
glowingly described the dress and beauty of the bride, the necktie and the
trousers of the groom, and pictures of the two were labeled "The Happy
Couple." In two years the bride came home to her parents wrecked in health
and broken in heart.
There is a beauty in a golden wedding that truly celebrates a happy union
of half a century. But when life is all untried, when perhaps the two young
people know nothing of what is before them, it may be are but little
acquainted with each other, and have mistaken the thrill of passion for the
steady exaltation of love, then it would seem wiser to make the occasion
one of most solemn import, free from glitter and show, and full of that deep
meaning which makes the heart stand still in reverence for life's deepest
mysteries.

O, gallant young groom, it may seem a slight thing
To take this young girl as your bride;
To place on her finger the plain golden ring,
Around her these bright flower-festoons to fling,
But have you e'er thought what the future will bring
To you in this life so untried?

Have you thought how your temper may often be tried?
That you may grow gouty and old,
That the fair smiling face of your bonnie young bride
May grow pale and haggard, and wrinkled, beside,
Or she prove a sloven and scold?

And you, bonnie bride, on this glad wedding day,
In the midst of the curious crowd,
Do you fancy that life will be always so gay?
Can you work, can you wait, do you know how to pray,
Can you suffer, and not cry aloud?

Can you watch out the hours by sad beds of pain?
Can you bear and forbear and forgive?
Can you cheerfully hope e'en when hoping is vain,
And when hope is dead, and to die you would fain,
Can you still feel it right you should live?

O, touchingly solemn and tender the hour,
So full of deep meaning the vow
You have uttered. And sorely you need Divine power
To guide you and guard you in sunshine and shower,
For trouble will come and love's delicate flower
Be crushed, you can scarcely tell how.

And yet, dear heart, there is nothing that has such unconquerable vitality
as love; but it must be true love, not self-love, not sentimentality, not
passion, not any of the spurious emotions that masquerade under the name
of love, and which wither with the slightest adverse wind.

Love is not an exotic, growing only in the conservatories of wealth. It is a
hardy plant, covering desolate places with verdure, glowing amid the snows
of mountain peaks, blossoming by night as well as by day, hiding defects,
clinging to ruins, enduring drouth and heat and cold.
I know a woman who says that there should never be marriage where
there are unpleasant peculiarities, idiosyncrasies, or even mannerisms; but
should we act on that principle, few would marry. Love is sometimes said to
be blind in the days of wooing, but wearing magnifying glasses after
wedlock. True love is never blind, but he is capable of judging of true
relative values, and will count as naught the slight defect when measured by
the overwhelming perfection. Who has not seen men devoted to wives who
were homely or peculiar, but who were genuinely pure and true?
"I don't care," said one woman, "if my husband is bald and cross-eyed, he
has a heart of gold."
True love is not blind, but with a deep, keen insight looks through the
encasing garment of human imperfections, and sees within the divine ego,
and because it recognizes the true inner self that is worthy, hopeth all
things, believeth all things, endureth all things, and never faileth.

THE END.

Offices of Publication

¶ IN THE UNITED STATES. The Vir Publishing
Company, 200-214 N. Fifteenth St., Philadelphia,
Pa.

¶ IN ENGLAND. The Vir Publishing Company, 4
Imperial B'l'd'g's, Ludgate Circus, London, E.C.

¶ IN CANADA. Ryerson Press, Cor. Queen and John
Sts. Toronto, Ontario.

"What a Young Girl Ought to Know."
BY MRS. MARY WOOD-ALLEN, M.D.

Condensed Table of Contents

PART I
The origin of life—One plan in all forms of life—
How plants grow from the seed—They feed on the soil,
grow and mature—How the plant reproduces itself—The
flower, the pollen, the pod, the seed—The office of bees
and insects in fertilization.
PART II
Fishes and their young—The parent fishes and the
baby fishes—The seeds of plants and eggs of fishes,
birds and animals—How fishes never know their baby
offspring—Warm blooded animals—Lessons from birds
—Their nests, eggs and little ones.
PART III
Animals and their young—The place which God has
prepared for their young—Beginning their independent
life—Human babies the most helpless and dependent of
all creatures—The relations of parent and child—The
child a part of each parent—Heredity and its lessons.
PART IV
The value of good health—The care of the body—The
body a temple to be kept holy—Girls should receive
their instruction from their mothers—The body the
garment which the soul wears—Effects of thoughts upon
life and character—Value of good companions, good

books and good influences—What it is to become a
woman.

"What a Young Girl Ought to Know"
WHAT EMINENT PEOPLE SAY

Francis E. Willard, LL.D.

"I do earnestly hope that this book, founded on a
strictly scientific but not forgetting a strong ethical basis,
may be well known and widely read by the dear girls in
their teens and the young women in their homes."

Mrs. Elizabeth B. Grannis

"These facts ought to be judiciously brought to the
intelligence of every child whenever it asks questions
concerning its own origin."

Mrs. Harriet Lincoln Coolidge

"It is a book that mothers and daughters ought to
own."

Mrs. Katharine L. Stevenson

"The book is strong, direct, pure, as healthy as a
breeze from the mountain-top."

Mrs. Isabelle MacDonald Alden, "Pansy"

"It is just the book needed to teach what most people
do not know how to teach, being scientific, simple and
plain-spoken, yet delicate."

Miss Grace H. Dodge

"I know of no one who writes or speaks on these great
subjects with more womanly touch than Mrs. Wood-
Allen, nor with deeper reverence. When I listen to her I
feel that she has been inspired by a Higher Power."

Ira D. Sankey

"Every mother in the land that has a daughter should
secure for her a copy of "What a Young Girl Ought to
Know." It will save the world untold sorrow."

"What a Young Wife Ought to Know."
BY MRS. EMMA F.A. DRAKE, M.D.

Condensed Table of Contents

HUSBAND AND HOME
The choice of a husband—One worthy of both love
and respect—Real characteristics necessary—Purity vs.
"wild oats"—What shall a young wife expect to be to her
husband?—His equal, but not his counterpart—His
helpmeet Wifehood and motherhood—Should keep pace
with his mental growth—Trousseau and wedding
presents—The foolish and ruinous display at weddings
—Wedding presents and unhappiness—Wise choice of
furniture—The best adornments for the home.
THE MARITAL RELATIONS
The marital state should be the most holy of
sanctuaries—Its influence upon character—Modesty—
Reproduction the primal purpose—Love's highest plane
—The right and wrong of marriage—The wrongdoings
of good men.
PARENTHOOD
Preparation for motherhood—Motherhood the glory
of womanhood—Maternity productive of health—
Clothing—Exercise—Baths, etc., etc.—The child the
expression of the mother's thoughts—The five stages of
prenatal culture.
PREPARATION FOR FATHERHOOD
Questions which test the fitness of young men for
marriage—Many young men of startling worth—Effects

of bad morals and wayward habits—Tobacco and
Alcoholics—Attaining the best—The father reproduced
in his children.
ANTENATAL INFANTICIDE
The moral responsibility of parents in heredity—The
mother's investment of moulding power—Parents
workers together with God—Ailments during expectant
motherhood—Maternity a normal state—Development
of the fœtus—Minuteness of the germ of human life—
Changes which take place—Life present the moment
conception takes place—The sin of tampering with the
work of the Infinite.
THE LITTLE ONE
Baby's wardrobe—The question that comes with
fluttering signs of life—Importance of wise choice of
material and style of dress—Choice of physician and
nurse of real consequence—The birth chamber—
Surroundings and after-care of the mother—The care of
the baby—The responsibilities and joys of motherhood
—The mother the baby's teacher—Common ailments of
children and how to treat them—Guarding against vice
—The training of children—Body building—Helps for
mothers.

"What a Young Wife Ought to Know"
WHAT EMINENT PEOPLE SAY

Mrs. Margaret E. Sangster

"Joyfully I send you my unqualified endorsement of
the excellent book, 'What a Young Wife Ought to Know.'
I wish every young and perplexed wife might read its
pages."

Charles H. Parkhurst, D.D.

"It handles delicate matters in a manner as firm as it is
delicate, and dignifies even what is common by the
purity of the sentiment and nobility of intent with which
it is treated."

Marietta Holly (Josiah Allen's Wife)

"It is an excellent book; if every young wife of to-day
would read it and lay its lessons to heart it would make
the to-morrow much easier and happier for all of Eve's
daughters."

W.G. Sperry, M.D.

"Young wives, for whom this book is intended, wilt
receive great benefits from heeding its wise words. It is
good for incitement, guidance, restraint."

Mrs. Joseph Cook

"It illuminates the Holy of Holies in the most sacred
of earthly relationships with the white light of truth and
purity."

Julia Holmes Smith, M.D.

"Be sure Dr. Drake's book is part of your daughter's
outfit. I have never read anything which so thoroughly
met the use it was designed for as this volume."

J.P. Sutherland, M.D.

"A subject difficult to treat has been handled by Dr.
Drake with delicacy, earnestness and
straightforwardness. It is a practical book destined to do
good."

"What a Woman of Forty-five Ought to Know."
BY MRS. EMMA F.A. DRAKE, M.D.

Condensed Table of Contents

KNOWLEDGE OF CLIMACTERIC NECESSARY
Why women are not prepared to meet the climacteric
—The fear that unnerves many—Error of views
concerning "Change of Life"—Correct teaching stated—
Influence of medical literature—Three periods in a
woman's life—Relation of early habits to later aches and
ills—The menopause—Conditions which influence the
period of the climacteric—The age at-which it usually
appears—Effects of heredity—Childless women—
Mothers of large families—Effects of different
occupations—Excesses.
HERALDS OF CHANGE—DISEASES AND
REMEDIES
Mental states during menopause—Change in blood
currents—Flushes, chilliness, dizziness, etc.—Nervous
symptoms—Disturbed mental and nervous equilibriums
—Nature as woman's helper—Troublesome ailments—
Mental troubles considered—Suggested help—Cancer—
Benefits named—Apprehensions dispelled—How to
banish worry—Simplifying daily duty—An eminent
physician's prescription—A word to single women—
Reluctance of unmarried women to meet the menopause
—How to prolong one's youth—Dress during this period
—The mother "At Sea"—Guarding against becoming
gloomy—Effects of patent medicine advertising—Drug
fiends—Lustful indulgence.

WHAT BOTH HUSBAND AND WIFE SHOULD
REMEMBER
Slights and inattentions keenly felt by her—Need of
patience—A word of private counsel—Value of little
attentions—Wife's duty to her husband—Holding
husband's affections—Making home attractive—
Unselfishness.
AUTO-SUGGESTION AND OTHER SUGGESTIONS
Influence of mind over body—The mind as a curative
agent—How to rise out of depression—Mental
philosophy and physical betterment—Relation of health
to sight—Care of the teeth—The hair—Constipation—
Self cure—Choice of foods—Exercise—Physical
development—Exercise of mind and soul.

"What a Woman of Forty-five Ought to Know"
PRAISED BY THE PRESS

"Will dispel apprehensions aroused by groundless
forebodings."—Reformed Church Messenger.
"If the hygienic advice in this book is followed it will
lengthen the lives of women and make their closing
years the happiest and most useful of all,"—Herald and
Presbyter.
"In no line of literature, perhaps, is such a book so
much needed."—New Haven Leader.
"Those who peruse the book only from prurient
curiosity will be disappointed."—Cleveland World.
"Should be read by every woman nearing and passing
middle life."—Pittsburg Gazette.
"Written in that wholesome sympathetic manner
characteristic of all the books in the Self and Sex
Series."—Cleveland Daily World.
"Full of most admirable practical advice, and it is
written in a sympathetic manner which is the outcome of
oneness of sex between the author and those whom she
addresses."—Syracuse Herald.
"There are some things that a woman of forty-five
does not know—things which she regards with more or
less terror in the expectation—which terror it is the
object of Mrs. Drake to dispel."—Rochester Herald.
"There is nothing in the book that could not be
proclaimed from the house-tops, and there is everything
in it that intelligent and thoughtful women should read

and keep for their daughters to read when the proper
time comes."—Newark Daily Advertiser.

A New Book by Charles Frederic Goss

More Important than the Simple or the Strenuous Life is the Home
Life

"HUSBAND, WIFE AND HOME"
By CHARLES FREDERIC GOSS

Author of "The Redemption of David Corson," etc., etc.
"This is the kind of book that one desires to read aloud
to all the family. Its captivating stories, humorous often,
pathetic at times, will brighten one's face into a broad
smile or bring the tear unbidden. The stories are the
windows that Dr. Goss opens upon the practical themes
that brighten every page of this winsome book. It will
drive away the "blues" and make a cross and glum
person look pleasant and feel pleasant. The divorce
courts would be forced to go out of business if its
blessed home truths were put into practice."
ENTHUSIASTICALLY ENDORSED BY THE PRESS
"There are nearly fifty short chapters. It boxes the
compass of its subject, skipping no point. Wide
experience and keen observation of real life yield
material which is treated with plain, common sense,
good wit and no lack of humor. Thus it hits the need of
the average man and woman, and all others that reckon
themselves above the average. The whole book is
pervaded by strong and pure moral feeling, and the
chapters are well dotted with pithy anecdotes and
amusing stories."—The Outlook.
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Bible Selections for Daily Devotion
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