
For the Literary Magazine.
critical remarks on buchan's
advice to mothers.
Advice to Mothers, on the subject
of their own health, and on the
means of promoting the health,
strength, and beauty of their off-
spring. By William Buchan,
M. D. follow of the Royal Col-
lege of Physicians, and author of
“Domestic Medicine.” Phila-
delphia: Bioren. 1804.
THIS performance is one of the
most useful and agreeable that could
have been transplanted to our soil.
The author is an old man, but he
writes in an entertaining and per-
suasive, and even in an elegant
manner. The work is entirely free
from technical obscurity, or sci-
etific method. It is written to in-
struct, and, for that purpose, endea-
vours to engage the attention of that
sex, whose interests he takes into
his care.
The following passages should be
gotten by heart by every young wo-
man. She must be strangely stupid
or callous, who can read them with-
out conviction, and fervent resolu-
tions, at least, to comply with the
instructions of this eloquent monitor.
“The desire of preserving and
improving personal beauty, which
discovers itself, at an early period,
in the female breast, is wisely de-
signed by nature for the best and
most important ends: it is a power-
ful check on excesses of every kind,
―226―
and is the strongest incitement to
cleanliness, temperance, moderate
exercise, and habitual good-humour.
All that is necessary is to convince
young people that these are the true
means of rendering them lovely, be-
cause they are the only means of
securing the enjoyment of health,
the very essence of beauty; instead
of sourly discouraging so natural a
wish, let us point out the way to its
full accomplishment, and thus pre-
vent many amiable women from
taking a wrong road, and from des-
stroying both health and beauty by
an absurd pursuit of the latter alone.
“One of the first truths to be im-
pressed upon the minds of young
women is, that beauty cannot exist
without health, and that the one is
absolutely unattainable by any prac-
tices inconsistent with the other.
In vain do they hope to improve
their skin, or to give a lively red-
ness to their cheek, unless they take
care to keep the blood pure, and
the whole frame active and vigor-
ous. Beauty, both of shape and
countenance, is nothing more than
visible health; the outward mirror
of the state of things within; the
certain effect of good air, cheerful-
ness, temperance, and exercise.
“There is nothing, perhaps, so
pernicious to women as the use of
creams, and pastes, and powders,
and lotions, and numberless other
contrivances to bleach the skin, or
to produce an artificial white and
red. All of them act with double
injury, not only in destroying the
surface which they were expected
to beautify, but in poisoning the ha-
bit, and causing a fatal neglect of
the great preservatives of life itself.
A blotch or a pimple, however of-
fensive to the eye, gives timely no-
tice of the impure state of the fluids,
and of the kind efforts of nature to
expel the noxious matter. Ought
not these efforts then to be assisted
by a judicious plan of diet and regi-
men, instead of throwing back the
impurity into the blood, and con-
verting the very means of health
unto the seeds of infection and dis-
ease? Besides, lead or mercury is
the chief ingredient in all those
boasted cosmetics, and, being ab-
sorbed through the skin, cannot fail
to occasion cramps, spasms, con-
vulsions, colics, and the incurable
train of nervous and consumptive
complaints.
“Beauty is impaired, and health
too often destroyed, by other absurd
practices, such as drinking vinegar,
to produce what is called a genteel
or slender form, and avoiding ex-
posure to the open air, for fear of
its injuring the fancied delicacy of
a fine skin. Vinegar, used as sauce,
and in moderate quantities, serves
to correct the putrescent tendency
of various articles of food, and is
equally agreeable and wholesome;
but when swallowed in draughts,
for the purpose of reducing plump-
ness, it proves highly injurious, cau-
sing excessive perspiration, relax-
ing the bowels, imparting no small
degree of acrimony to the blood, and
very much enfeebling the whole sys-
tem. The dread of open air is still
more ridiculous and detrimental.
Look at the healthy texture of the
milkmaid's skin, and at the roses
ever blooming on her cheek, and
then consider whether the open air
can be unfavourable to beauty. The
votaries of fashion may affect to
despise these natural charms, and
to call them vulgar: the heart of
man feels their irresistible attrac-
tion, and his understanding confirms
him in so just a preference. Surely
the languid sickly delicacy, pro-
duced by confinent, cannot be
compared to the animated glow of
of a face often fanned by the re-
freshing breeze!
“The woman, therefore, who
feels a laudable wish to look well,
and to be so in reality, must place
no confidence in the silly doctrines
or the deceitful arts of fashion. She
must consult nature and reason, and
seek for beauty in the temple of
health; if she looks for it elsewhere
she will experience the most mor-
tifying disappointment; her charms
will fade; her constitution will be
ruined; her husband's love will va-
nish with her shadowy attractions;
―227―
and her nuptial bed will be unfruit-
ful, or cursed with a puny race, the
hapless victims of a mother's im-
prudence. She cannot transmit to
her children what she does not her-
self possess; weakness and disease
are entailed upon her posterity;
and, even in the midst of wedded
joys, the hopes of a healthy and vi-
gorous issue are blasted for ever.
“The only way to prevent such
evils is to pay a due regard to those
rational means of promoting health,
which I have already hinted at;
temperance, exercise, open air,
cleanliness, and good-humour. These
subjects are pretty fully discussed
in my “Domestic Medicine;” yet
a few remarks may be proper on
the present occasion.
“In laying down rules of temper-
ance, I do not wish to impose any
restraint on the moderate use of
good and wholesome food or drink:
but under these heads we must not
include spirituous liquors; relaxing
and often-repeated draughts of hot
tea and coffee; salted, smoke-dried,
and highly seasoned meats; salt
fish; rich gravies; heavy sauces;
almost indigestible pastry; and
sour, unripe fruits, of which women
in general are immoderately fond.
We pity the green-sick girl, whose
longing for such trash is one of the
causes as well as one of the effects
of her disease; but can any woman,
capable of the least reflection, conti-
nue to gratify a perverse appetite
by the use of the most pernicious
crudities? Fruit, in the season of
its maturity, is no less salutary than
delicious. By plucking and eating
it before it is ripe, you defeat the
benignant purposes of nature, and
will severely feel her resentment.
The morning is the best time to eat
fruit, when the stomach is not load-
ed with other aliment. Even in
the evening I had rather see it in-
troduced than the enervating luxu-
ries of the tea-table, or the still worse
preparations for a supper of animal
food. A meal of this sort should not
be made twice in one day. After a
hearty dinner, a long interval is ne-
cessary before nature can require, or
even bear, without injury, another
substantial repast. Suppers are doub-
ly prejudicial on account of the late-
ness of the hour, and the danger of
going to bed with a full stomach.
Apoplexies are often occasioned by
such inconsiderate and unseasonable
indulgence, but its certain effects are
restless nights, frightful dreams,
broken and unrefreshing slumbers,
an incapacity of early rising next
morning, head-achs, paleness of as-
pect, and general relaxation. Who-
ever sets any value on health or
beauty, will always make very light
repasts at night, and will go to bed
early; that is to say, never later
than ten or eleven o'clock, in order
to enjoy sweet repose, and to rise
betimes, with renovated strength and
alacrity, to the pleasures and duties
of the ensuing day.
“Pure air and moderate exercise
are not of less importance than food
and drink. Women are much con-
fined by their domestic employments
and sedentary pursuits: for this
very reason they ought to go out
frequently, and take exercise in the
open air; not in a close carriage,
but on foot or on horseback. When
prevented by the weather from go-
ing abroad, dancing, provided it be
not continued to fatigue, is the most
cheerful and healthy amusement
within doors. The only sedentary
diversions proper for women are
playing on some musical instrument,
singing, and reading aloud delight-
ful pieces of poetry or eloquence.
Young ladies and mothers should
wholly resign the card-table to old
maids, who can only injure their
own health, and who have no taste
for any other mode of social inter-
course.
“It may seem a little strange that
I should think it in any sort necessary
to recommend cleanliness to the fair
sex: I am far from intending to
convey the most distant insinuation
of their negligence in this respect;
I only wish to heighten their ideas
of its utility, and to point out far-
ther methods of increasing its bene-
fits. They are rather too sparing
of water, from an apprehension of
―228―
its injuring the skin, or giving it a
disagreeable roughness. This is a
great mistake. Pure water may be
truly considered as a fountain of
health, and its frequent use is the
best means of improving the skin,
and strengthening the whole frame.
The offices performed by the skin
are of greater importance than most
people imagine. It is not merely a
covering or shield to guard the fine
organs of feeling from irritation or
external injury, but one of the grand
outlets admirably contrived by na-
ture for expelling the noxious and
superfluous humours of the body.
The perspirable matter thus thrown
out will of itself clog the pores, and
relax the skin, unless care is taken
to promote its easy escape, by keep-
ing the entire surface of the body
perfectly clean, well-braced, and
elastic, which can only be done by
frequent washing, and instantly wip-
ing the parts dry. Those who have
not a bath to plunge into, should
wash the face, neck, hands, and
feet, every morning and night; and
experience will soon convince them,
that the more they accustom them-
selves even to this partial applica-
tion of clean water, the more com-
fortable and enlivening they will
find it. If misguided tenderness has
produced an extreme delicacy of
habit as well as of skin, it will be
proper to use lukewarm water for
some time; and then gradually to
diminish its temperature, till cold
water can be employed, not only
with safety, but with benefit. As a
preservative of health, it is far more
bracing and more invigorating than
warm water, though the latter may
be often adviseable in cases of par-
ticular infirmity, indisposition, or
disease.
“All women of delicacy and good
sense are sufficiently attentive to
remove any outward soil or visible
dirt from their person; but they do
not all know, that a vapour, too
fine to be perceived by the eye, is
constantly issuing from the pores,
the little orifices or mouths of which
must therefore be kept clean and
unobstructed. For the same rea-
son, the linen and interior articles
of dress should be often changed, as
they become impregnated with the
perspirable matter, and, when foul,
would not only prevent the escape
of any more, but would even have
a part of what they had received
re-absorbed by the skin, and thrown
back into the system. The whole
dress also should be loose, and as
light as may be found consistent
with due warmth, so as not to in-
crease perspiration too much by its
heaviness, nor to check either that
or the free circulation of the blood
by its pressure.
“Among many improvements in
the modern fashions of female dress,
equally favourable to health, to
graceful ease and elegance, the dis-
continuance of stays is entitled to
peculiar approbation. It is, indeed,
impossible to think of the old
straight waistcoat of whalebone,
and of tight lacing, without asto-
nishment and some degree of hor-
ror. We are surprised and shocked
at the folly and perverseness of em-
ploying, as an article of dress, and
even as a personal ornament, what
must have checked youthful growth;
what must have produced distor-
tions and deformity; besides, occa-
sioning various irregularities and
diseases. I need not point out the
aggravated mischief of such a pres-
sure on the breast and womb in a
state of pregnancy; but I must no-
tice a defect very prevalent among
young women of the present day in
London, who, though they have not
worn stays, may be fairly presumed
to inherit, from their mothers, some
of the pernicious effects of such a
custom.
“The injury to which I allude, is
the want of nipples. This unnatu-
ral defect, seems to have originated
from the use of laced stays; and as
children so often resemble their pa-
rents in outward form, it is not im-
probable that the daughter may
bear this mark of a mother's impru-
dence, and may even transmit it to
her own female children. Where
stays have never been used, the
want of a nipple is as extraordinary
―229―
as the want of a limb; and no mo-
ther is found thus disqualified from
discharging one of her most sacred
duties. But in London the instan-
ces are too frequent to be ascribed
to accident, and cannot, perhaps, be
accounted for more satisfactorily,
than in the manner here suggested.
“Among the means of promoting
health and beauty, cheerfulness or
good-humour is certainly not the
least in point of efficacy. It has the
happiest influence on the body and
mind; it gives a salutary impulse
to the blood, keeps all the vital or-
gans in easy and agreeable play,
renders the outward deportment
highly pleasing, while the perpetual
sunshine within spreads a fascinat-
ing loveliness over the countenance.
Peevishness or ill-humour embitters
life, saps the constitution, and is
more fatal to beauty than the small-
pox, because its ravages are more
certain, more disgusting, and more
permanent.”
The directions given to mothers
and nurses, in this work, carry with
them the stamp of good sense. They
seem, to an unlearned capacity, in
themselves so reasonable, that they
gain at once implicit credit. They
are clear and intelligible, and ac-
complish the end of enlightening the
fair reader, without awakening chi-
merical terrors, and suggesting ex-
travagant inferences. The vener-
able writer appears to draw his
illustrations from his own experi-
ence, and some of them are ex-
tremely curious and instructive.—
The following is a specimen:
“As strong examples often make
some impression where other modes
of reasoning fail, I shall here beg
leave to introduce the history of a
young gentleman, whom I attended
at a very early period of my prac-
tice, and who fell a victim to the
excessive fondness of an indulgent
mother. With every wish to pro-
mote her son's health and happi-
ness, she was, as far as respected
intention, the innocent but absolute
cause of totally destroying both.
She brought on relaxation and debi-
lity by her misguided endeavours to
avert pain; and while she hoped to
prolong the life of an only son, the
means which she made use of, for
that purpose, not only abridged its
duration, but precluded his power of
enjoying it. Though he was buried
at the age of twenty-one, he might
be said to have died in his cradle;
for life has been well defined, not to
consist in merely breathing, but in
making a proper use of our organs,
our senses, our faculties, and of all
those parts of the human frame
which contribute to the conscious-
ness of our existence. That he ne-
ver attained to this state of being,
will fully appear from the following
narrative:
“Edward Watkinson was the
only son of a country clergyman, of
amiable manners and sound learn-
ing, but of a recluse turn of mind.
The mother was the daughter of a
London tradesman, and had been
educated with extreme delicacy.
She naturally pursued the same line
of conduct towards her own child;
and her fond husband was too much
under the influence of the like fatal
weakness. Many a child is spoiled
by the indulgence of one parent: in
the case now before us, both concur-
red to produce that enervating ef-
fect.
“For some time after his birth,
master Neddy was reckoned a pro-
mising boy. When I first saw him,
he was about eighteen years of age;
but, to judge by his look, one would
have supposed him to have been at
least eighty. His face was long,
pale, and deeply furrowed with
wrinkles; his eyes were sunk in
their sockets; his teeth quite de-
cayed; his nose and chin almost
touched each other; his breast
narrow and prominent; his body
twisted; his legs like spindles; his
hands and fingers approaching near-
ly to the form of bird's claws; in
short, his whole figure exhibited the
truly pitiable appearance of a very
old man, sinking under the weight
of years and infirmities into the
grave.
“It was at Midsummer I paid my
first visit. I then found him wrap-
―230―
ped up in clothing sufficient for the
rigours of a Lapland winter, and so
[gap] that one could hardly
see the tip of his nose. He wore
several pair of stockings; his gloves
were double, and reached his el-
bows; and, to complete the absur-
dity of his dress, he was tightly
laced in stays. Though armed in
this manner at all points, he seldom
peeped out of doors except in the
dog-days, and then ventured no far-
ther than the church, which was
only forty paces from his father's
house. I believe this was the most
distant excursion he ever made;
and the extraordinary attempt was
always accompanied with peculiar
care, and many additional preserva-
tives from cold.
“The eye of his parents might
be truly said to watch over him, not
only by day, but by night also, as he
slept in the same bed with them,
having never been permitted to lie
alone, lest he should throw the
clothes off, or feel the want of any
immediate assistance. It did not
once occur to his father or mother,
that all the inconveniences which
they so much dreaded, could not be
half so injurious as the relaxing at-
mosphere of a warm bed, surround-
ed by close curtains, and impreg-
nated with the noxious effluvia from
their lungs and bodies.
“His food and drink were of the
weakest quality, always administer-
ed warm, and by weight and mea-
sure. When I recommended a
more nourishing diet, and a little ge-
nerous wine, I was told that the
strongest thing master Neddy had
ever taken was chicken water, and
that they durst not venture on wine
or animal food for fear of a fever.
Thus was the poor lad reduced almost
to a skeleton, through the silly appre-
hension of a disease, of which he
was not susceptible. Nature was in
him too weak to spread a hectic
flush, even for a moment, over his
countenance, which had acquired
the colour of a parboiled chicken.
All his vital powers were languid;
and even his speech resembled the
squeaking of a bird, more than the
voice of a man.
“When I spoke of exercise, I
was told he took a walk every fine
day in the hall, and that was deem-
ed sufficient for one of his delicate
constitution. I mentioned a horse;
the mother was frightened at the
very name of so dangerous an ani-
mal. On telling her, that I owed
the firmness and vigour of my own
constitution to riding every day, she
began to think there might be some-
thing specific in it; and she there-
fore consented to the purchase of a
little horse. But tame as the crea-
ture was, it did not quiet the mo-
ther's alarms. Master Neddy,
though placed upon the poney's
back, was not entrusted with the
reins. These were given in charge
to a maid-servant, who led the
horse round the orchard, while the
cautious rider fastened both hands
on the pommel of the saddle; and
the father walking on one side, and
the mother on the other, hold him
fast by the legs, lest he might be
brought to the ground by any sudden
start of his high-mettled racer.
This exhibition was too ridiculous
not to excite the laughter of the
neighbours, which soon put an end
to master Neddy's equestrian exer-
cise.
“The timidity of a youth thus
brought up is more easily conceived
than described. Fearful of every
thing, he would run from the most
inoffensive animal, as if he had been
pursued by a lion or a tiger. His
weakness in this respect being
known to the village boys, it was a
common practice with them, when-
ever they saw him peeping through
his father's gate, to frighten him in-
to the house, by calling the pigs to
bite him. This sportive alarm had
the same effect as the sudden rush
of a mad bullock.
“With such excessive weakness
both of mind and body, master Ned-
dy had some good points about him.
His parents represented him as a
perfect model of morality; and I
had no right to doubt the truth of
―231―
their representation, though I did
not give him quite so much credit
on that score, because he did not
possess sufficient force of constitu-
tion to be capable of any kind of
vice. But I viewed, with mixed
emotion of admiration and pity,
some proofs of learning and abili-
ties which he left behind him. I was
the more surprised, as the incessant
care bestowed on his person seem-
ed to leave very little time for any
mental acquirements.
“Improper food, tight or oppres-
sive clothing, and want of fresh air
and exercise, have, in their turn,
proved destructive to thousands.
This young man fell a victim to
them all; and it would have been a
miracle indeed had he survived
their combined influence. He died
without a groan, or any mark of
disease, except premature old age,
the machine being fairly worn out,
before he completed his twenty first
year. His death proved fatal to
both his parents, whose lives were
closely
bound up in that of the lad.
“The father had perceived his
own error, but not before it was too
late. He sent for me, and begged
I would endeavour to save his son.
The youth, alas! was far beyond
the reach of my most zealous ef-
forts: I could only witness the cer-
tainty of his fate. Medicine was of
as little use to him, as consolation
to his afflicted parents. The bitter-
ness of their grief was increased by
self-reproach; and friendship ex-
erted her soothing voice in vain.”
On the whole, this work is one of
the most valuable presents that can
be made to any woman, who has
sense enough to profit by the in-
structions it affords.