Читать книгу The Mother's Manual of Children's Diseases - Charles West - Страница 13

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The management of the child when ill is difficult or easy in exact proportion to whether it has been ill or well managed when in health. The mother who lives but little with her children, who contents herself with a daily visit to the nursery, and who then scarcely sees her little ones until they are brought into the drawing-room in the evening in full dress, to be petted and admired and fondled by the visitors, cannot expect to take her place by the child's bed in its sickness, to soothe its pain, and to expend upon it all the pent-up tenderness which, in spite of the calls of business or of pleasure, still dwells within her heart. She must be content to see the infant turn from her to the nurse with whose face it has all its life been familiar; or to hear the little one tell her to go away, for her presence is associated with none of those 'familiar acts, made beautiful by love,' which win the young heart: the mother is but a stranger who brings no help, who relieves no distress. Happy such a mother if she has found a conscientious and intelligent nurse to whom she can delegate her office; but she must remember that with the child, love follows in the steps of daily, hourly kindnesses, that a mother's part must be played in health if it is to be undertaken in sickness, that it cannot be laid down and taken up again at pleasure.

There is another mother who cannot nurse her child to any good purpose, she who when it was well spoilt it from excess of love, who has yielded to each wayward wish, and has allowed it to become the petty tyrant of the household. The child is ill, it is languid, feverish, and in pain; no position is quite easy to it, no food pleasant to it, bed is irksome, medicine is nasty. It knows only that it suffers, it has been accustomed to have its will obeyed in everything, and cannot understand that its suffering is not at once taken away. It insists on getting up and on being dressed, or on lying in its mother's or nurse's lap, where the warmth of another person's body does but aggravate its fever; it screams with passion at the approach of the doctor, it will not allow itself to be examined, it will take no medicine; the doctor is powerless, the mother heart-broken. Sickness is not the time to exercise authority which has not been put in force before; and, not once but many times, I have watched, a sad spectator, the death of children from an illness not necessarily fatal, but rendered so because it was impossible to learn the progress of disease, impossible to administer the necessary remedies.

What a child has been made when well, such it will be when sick.

One more point I must insist on before going into details, and that is as to the necessity of perfect truthfulness in dealing with sick children. The foolish device of telling a child when ill, that the doctor who has been sent for is its uncle or its cousin, is the outcome of the still more foolish falsehood of threatening the child with the doctor's visit if it does not do this or that. No endeavour should be spared by nurse or parent, or by the doctor himself, to render his visit popular in the nursery. Three-fourths of the difficulties which attend the administration of medicine are commonly the result of previous bad management of the child, of foolish over-indulgence, or of still more foolish want of truthfulness. It may answer once to tell a child that medicine is nice when really it is nasty, but the trick will scarcely succeed a second time, and the one success will increase your difficulties ever after. If medicine is absolutely necessary, and the child is too young to understand reason, it must be given by force, very firmly but very kindly, and the grief it occasions will be forgotten in an hour or two. If he is old enough, tell him that the medicine is ordered to do him good, and firmness combined with gentleness will usually succeed in inducing him to take it. The advantage of perfect truthfulness extends to every incident in the illness of children, even to the not saying, 'Oh, you will soon be well,' if it is not likely so to be. If children find you never deceive them, how implicitly they will trust you, what an infinity of trouble is saved, and how much rest of mind is secured to the poor little sufferer!

A little boy three years old was ordered to be cupped. The cupper, a kind old man, said to encourage him, 'Oh, dear little boy, it's nothing.' The child turned to his mother, saying, 'Mummy, is that true?' His mother said it was not, but that for her sake she hoped he would try to bear it well. And the operation was performed without a cry or a sound.

I have spoken of the moral conditions implied in the successful management of sick children. There are certain physical conditions no less important. The sick child should not be left in the common nursery, of which he would taint the air, while he would be disturbed by its other little inmates. He must (and of course I am speaking not of some slight ailment, but of a more serious indisposition) be in a room by himself, which should be kept quiet and shaded, and at a temperature which should not be allowed to fall below 60° if the chest is in any way affected, nor to exceed 55° in other cases, and this temperature should always be measured, not by guess, but by the thermometer hung close to the child's bed. The room is to be shaded, not by curtains round the bed—for, save in special circumstances, curtains should be banished from the nursery—nor by closed shutters which exclude both light and air, but by letting down the blinds, so as to have a sort of twilight in the room, and by shading any light which at night may be burned in the apartment; while whether by day or night the child should be so placed that his face shall be turned from the light, not directed towards it. The room should be kept quiet, and this requires not only general quiet in the house, but quiet in the movements of all persons in the room; speaking, not in a whisper, but in a low and gentle voice; walking carefully, not in a silk dress nor in creaky shoes, but not on tiptoe, for there is a fussy sham quietness which disturbs the sick far more than the loudest noise.

Little precautions, so trifling that few think of noticing them, have much to do with the quiet of the sick-room, and consequently with the patient's comfort. A rattling window will keep a child awake for hours, or the creaking handle of the door rouse it up again each time anyone enters the room; and to put a wedge in the window, or to tie back the handle, and so quietly open and close the door, may do more than medicine towards promoting the child's recovery. There can, however, be no abiding quiet without a well-ordered room, and the old proverb carried out, 'A place for everything, and everything in its place.' A table covered with a cloth so that things may be taken up and put down noiselessly, and set apart for the medicine, the drink, the nourishment, cups, glasses, spoons, or whatever else the patient is in frequent need of; with a wooden bowl and water for rinsing cups and glasses in, and a cloth or two for wiping them, will save much trouble and noise, and the loud whispers of the attendants to each other, 'Where is the sugar? where is the arrowroot? where did you put down the medicine?' of which we hear so much in the sick-room, so much especially in the sick-room of the child, who is unable to tell how extremely all this disturbs him.

One more caution still remains for me to give. Do not talk to the doctor in the child's room, do not relate bad symptoms, do not express your fears, nor ask the doctor his opinion in the child's hearing. The child often understands much more than you would imagine, misunderstands still more; and over and over again I have known the thoughtless utterance of the mother, nurse, or doctor depress a child's spirits and seriously retard his recovery.

It is consoling to bear in mind that how grave soever a child's illness may be, the power of repair is greater in early life than in adult age, that with few exceptions the probability of recovery is greater in the child than it would be from the same disease in the grown person. This too is due not simply to the activity of the reparative powers in early life, but also in great measure to the mental and moral characteristics of childhood.

To make the sick child happy, in order that he may get well, is the unwritten lesson which they who have best learnt, know best how to nurse sick children. It may seem strange, that from so high a purpose I should at once come down to so commonplace a detail as to insist on the importance, even on this account, of keeping the sick child in bed.

At the onset of every illness of which the nature is not obvious, during the course of any illness in which the chest is affected, or in which the temperature is higher than natural, bed is the best and happiest place for the child. In it repose is most complete, far more complete than after early babyhood it can be in the nurse's or mother's lap, and free from the great objection of the increased heat from being in contact with another person's body. Nothing is more painful than to witness the little child, sick and feverish, with heavy eyes, and aching head, up and dressed, trying to amuse itself with its customary toys; then, with 'Please nurse me,' begging to be taken in the lap, then getting down again; fretful, and sad, and passionate by turns; dragging about its misery, wearing out its little strength, in deference to the prejudice that bed is so weakening.

The bed does not weaken, but the disease does which renders bed necessary.

A child frets sometimes at the commencement of an illness if kept in its own little cot. But put it in its nurse's or mother's big bed, set a tea tray with some new toys upon it before the child, and a pillow behind it, so that when tired with play it may lie back and go to sleep, and you will have husbanded its strength and saved your own, have halved your anxiety and doubled the child's happiness.

Young infants, indeed, when ill often refuse to be put out of the arms, but over and over again I have found the experiment succeed of laying the baby on a bed, the nurse or mother lying down by its side, and soothing it to sleep. Were there no other drawback, it is a waste of power to have two persons employed in nursing a sick child; one to keep it in her lap, and the other to wait upon her.

It is important in all serious illnesses of children, as well as of a grown person, that the bed should be so placed that the attendant can pass on either side, and can from either side reach the patient to do whatever is necessary. Most cots for young children have a rail round them to prevent the child falling out of bed when asleep or at play; but nothing can be more inconvenient than the fixed rail over which the attendant has to bend in order to give the child food or medicine, or for any other purpose. When I founded the Children's Hospital in Ormond Street, I introduced children's cots (the idea of which I took from those in the Children's Hospital at Frankfort) the sides of which let down when needed, while on the top of the rail, or dependent from it, a board is placed surrounded by a raised beading on which the toys, the food, or drink may be put with great convenience. These bedsteads, with probably some improved arrangement for letting down the sides, may be seen now in most children's hospitals, but I have been surprised to observe how seldom they are employed in private nurseries, and how comparatively few bedstead-makers are acquainted with them. The result would probably have been very different had a patent been taken out for them, and had they been largely advertised as 'Dr. West's improved children's bedsteads'! The uninclosed spring mattress, and the wedge-shaped horsehair cushion, both of which I introduced in Ormond Street, are also very valuable. The latter slightly raises the head and shoulders, and renders any other than a thin horsehair pillow for the head to rest on unnecessary.

A few more hints about the bed may not be out of place. First of all, after early infancy is over, at latest after nine months, except for some very special reason the napkin should be done away with. It heats the child, chafes it, and makes it sore; it conceals the inattention of the nurse, and at the same time renders it less easy to keep the little one absolutely clean than if a folded napkin is placed under the hips, whence it can be at once removed when soiled. In all serious illness a piece of macintosh should be placed under the sheet, as is done in the lying-in room, and a draw-sheet, as it is termed, over it. The draw-sheet is, as its name implies, a folded sheet, laid under the hips, and withdrawn in part when needed so as to prevent the child ever lying on linen that is wet or soiled. It can be drawn away from under the child, and a portion still clean and dry brought under it, while the soiled part is rolled together and wrapped up in macintosh at one side of the bed until a new draw sheet is substituted, which is easily done by tacking a fresh sheet to that which is about to be withdrawn, when the fresh one is brought under the child's body as that which is soiled is removed. The greatest care should always be taken that the under sheet is perfectly free from ruck or wrinkle; in long illnesses the skin becomes chafed and bed-sores may be produced by neglect of this simple precaution. The complaint that a child throws off the bed-clothes is easily remedied by a couple of bits of tape tied on either side loosely from the sheet or blanket to the sides of the cot.

When children are compelled to remain long in bed, great care is needed to prevent the skin from being chafed, which is the first step that leads to the occurrence of bed-sores. Careful washing with soap and water daily of the whole body, not only of those parts which may be soiled by the urine or the evacuations; the washing afterwards with pure tepid water; careful drying, and abundant powdering with starch powder, will do much to prevent the accident. If, in spite of this care, the skin seems anywhere to be red or chafed, it should be sponged over with brandy or with sweet spirits of nitre before powdering. Real bed-sores must be seen and treated by the doctor.

The warm bath is a great source of comfort to the sick child, and in all cases of feverishness, of influenza, or threatening bronchitis, it should not be omitted before the child is put to bed, or must be given towards evening if the child has not been up during the day. The bath may be either warm or hot, the temperature of the former being 90° to 92°, that of the latter 95° to 96°. The temperature should always be ascertained by the thermometer, and the warm bath only should be employed, except when the hot bath is ordered by the doctor. The warm bath relieves feverishness and quiets the system, and promotes gentle perspiration; the hot bath is given when the eruption of scarlet fever or of measles fails to come out properly, or in some cases of convulsions at the same time that cold is applied to the head, or, in some forms of dropsy when it is of importance to excite the action of the skin as much as possible. It is not desirable that a child should remain less than five or more than ten minutes in the bath, and attention must be paid by the addition of warm water to maintain the bath at the same temperature during the whole time of the child's immersion.

Now and then infants and very young children when ill seem frightened at the bath, and then instead of being soothed and relieved by it they are only excited and distressed. If the bath is brought into the room, prepared in the child's sight, and he is then taken out of bed, undressed, and put into the water which he sees steaming before him, he very often becomes greatly alarmed, struggles violently, cries passionately, and does not become quiet again till he has sobbed himself to sleep. All this time, however, he has been exerting his inflamed lungs to the utmost, and will probably have thereby done himself ten times more harm than the bath has done good. Very different would it have been if the bath had been got ready out of the child's sight; if when brought to the bedside it had been covered with a blanket so as to hide the steam; if the child had been laid upon the blanket, and gently let down into the water, and this even without undressing him if he were very fearful; and then if you wish to make a baby quite happy in the water, put in a couple of bungs or corks with feathers stuck in them, for the baby to play with. Managed thus, I have often seen the much-dreaded bath become a real delight to the little one, and have found that if tears were shed at all, it was at being taken out of the water, not at being placed in it.

In a great variety of conditions, poultices are of use. They are needed in the case of abscesses which it is wished to bring to a head; they are sometimes applied over wounds which are in an unhealthy condition, or from which it is desired to keep up a discharge. They soothe the pain of stomach-ache from any cause, and are of most essential service when constantly applied in many forms of chest inflammation. And yet not one mother or nurse in ten knows how to make a poultice.[5] When applied over a wound they should not be covered with oiled silk or any impermeable material, since the edges of the wound and the adjacent skin are apt thereby to be rendered irritable and to become covered with little itching pimples. When used to relieve pain in the stomach, or as a warm application in cases of inflammation of the chest, they should be covered with some impermeable material, and will then not require to be changed oftener than every six hours. After poultices have been applied over the chest or stomach for two or three days the skin is apt to become tender, and then it is well to substitute for them what may be termed a dry poultice, which is nothing else than a layer of dry cotton wool an inch or an inch and a half thick, tacked inside a piece of oiled silk.

A handy substitute for a poultice may be made of bran stitched in a flannel bag, heated by pouring boiling water on it, then squeezed as dry as possible and laid over the painful part. This is especially useful to relieve the stomach-ache of infants and young children.

Spongio-piline is a useful substitute for a poultice, especially when it is desirable to employ a soothing or stimulating liniment to the surface. It retains heat very well when wrung out of hot water, and any liniment sprinkled on it is brought into contact with the skin much better than if diffused through a poultice. I may just add that its edges should be sloped inwards, in order to prevent the moisture from it oozing out and wetting the child's night-dress.

When I was young, leeches and bleeding were frequently, no doubt too frequently, employed. We have now, however, gone too much to the other extreme, for cases are met with from time to time of congestion of the brain, or of inflammation of the chest or of the bowels, in which leeches bring greater and more speedy relief than any other remedy. In applying leeches it is always desirable that they should be put on where they will be out of the child's sight if possible, and where it will be comparatively easy to stop the bleeding. Hence, in many instances of inflammation of the bowels, it is better to apply the leeches at the edge of the lower bowel, the anus as it is technically termed, than on the front of the stomach, though, of course, this will not always answer the purpose. Leeches to the chest may usually be put on just under the shoulder-blade; and leeches to the head on one or other side behind the ear, where they will be out of the way of any large vein, and where the pressure of the finger will easily stop the bleeding. Steady pressure with the finger will, even where there is no bone to press against, usually effect this; and then a little pad of lint put over the bite, and one or two layers over that, and all fastened on with strips of adhesive plaster, will prevent any renewal of the bleeding. In the few cases where it is not arrested by these means, the application of a little of the solution of muriate of iron will hardly fail of effect.

There is one more point to which I will refer before passing lastly to the question of how to manage in the administration of medicine; and this is the best way of applying cold to the head. This is often ordered, but very seldom efficiently done. Cold is best applied by means of a couple of bladders half-filled with pounded ice, and wrapped in two large napkins; one of them should be placed under the child's head, the corners of the napkin being pinned to the pillow-case to prevent its being disturbed, while the other is allowed to rest upon the head, but with the corners of the napkin again pinned to the pillow so as to take off the greater part of its weight. Thus arranged, the cold application will neither get displaced by the child's movements, nor will the child itself be wetted, as it too commonly is when wet cloths are employed for this purpose, nor irritated by their perpetual removal and renewal.

In London and in large towns there are various contrivances of vulcanised rubber, which are, of course, far preferable to the bladders, but it is not everyone who lives in London, or who can command the resources furnished by a large city.

The difficulties in the administration of medicine to children are in great part the fault, either of the doctor in giving needlessly unpleasant medicine, or of the parents or nurse who either have failed to teach the child obedience, or who are deficient in that tact by which hundreds of small troubles are evaded.

As far as the doctor is concerned, all medicines should be prescribed by him in small quantities, and as free from taste and smell as possible: or where that cannot be, the unpleasant flavour should be covered by syrup, or liquorice, or treacle.

Bulky powders should be avoided, and the child who has learned to take rhubarb and magnesia, or Gregory's powder without resistance, certainly does credit to his training.

Aperients are the medicines most frequently needed in the minor ailments of children, and a wise mother will not undertake herself the management of serious diseases. Of all aperients castor oil is perhaps the safest, the least irritating, the most generally applicable; it acts on the bowels and does nothing more. The idea that it tends specially to produce constipation afterwards is unfounded; it does not do so more than other aperients. All aperients quicken for a time what is termed the peristaltic action of the bowels; that is to say, their constant movement in a direction from the stomach to the lower bowel, which, as well as a contraction on themselves, is constantly going on in every living animal, and continues even for some time after death. The bowels stimulated to greater activity of movement by the aperient, become for a time more sluggish afterwards; they rest for a while, just as after a long walk the muscles of the leg are weary and need repose.

There are indeed aperients which do more than this, as grey powder and calomel act upon the liver, and so by promoting an increased flow of bile cause a more permanent excitement of the bowels, and consequently their more prolonged activity; or as Epsom salts or citrate of magnesia, which by their action on the blood cause a greater secretion or pouring out of fluid from the coats of the intestines, and in this way have in addition to their purgative property a special influence in abating various feverish conditions.

Castor oil, senna, jalap, jalapine, and scammony are simple aperients. They empty the bowels and nothing more, and in cases of simple constipation, or where a child is ill either from eating too much or from taking indigestible food, are the best purgatives that can be given. A dose of castor oil, often one of the great griefs of the nursery, may generally be given without the least difficulty if previously shaken up in a bottle with a wine-glassful of hot milk sweetened and flavoured with a piece of cinnamon boiled in it, by which all taste of the oil is effectually concealed.

The domestic remedy, senna tea with prunes which render it palatable, confection of senna, syrup of senna, and the sweet essence of senna are generally very readily taken by children, but all have the disadvantage of being liable to gripe. The German liquorice powder, as it is called, which is composed of powdered senna, liquorice powder, fennel, and a little sulphur with white sugar, is freer from this drawback than any other preparation, and when mixed with a little water is not generally objected to. It is important, as senna is often adulterated and loses its properties by exposure to the air, that this powder should always be obtained from a very good chemist, purchased in small quantities, and always kept in a glass-stoppered bottle.

Jalap, in the form in which it is usually sold—as compound jalap powder—is in general readily taken; it acts speedily, but often with pain, and is not a desirable domestic remedy. Jalapine, which is a sort of extract of jalap, is much less apt to gripe, and owing to its small bulk is much handier. It may be given in doses of from two to five grains to children from two years old and upwards.

Scammony is another powerful simple aperient, apt to be violent in its action, and therefore not to be given except when the bowels have long been confined, or when it is given to expel worms. The compound scammony powder is the form in which it is usually given, and of that five grains would be a dose for a child two years old.

Scammony, however, is a costly drug, and therefore the caution given with reference to German liquorice powder applies here also.

There is a preparation of scammony, the so-called scammony mixture, which consists of the resin or extract of scammony dissolved in milk, which is extremely useful when the stomach is irritable, or there is much difficulty in inducing the child to take medicine. It is almost tasteless, and a tablespoonful, which would be a proper dose for a child of five years old, can be given without being detected.

Much of the difficulty experienced in giving powders arises from their being mixed with the arrowroot or jam in which they are administered. A very small quantity of arrowroot, bread and milk, or jam, should be put in a tea-spoon; the powder then laid upon it, and covered over with the arrowroot or jelly, so, in short, as to make a kind of sandwich, with the powder, which would thus be untasted, in the middle.

Aloes is a purgative which acts chiefly on the large bowel and to some degree also on the liver, and is of most use in the habitual constipation of weakly children. In spite of its bitter taste the powder is seldom objected to if given between two layers of coarse brown sugar, while with most children the addition of a teaspoonful of treacle will induce them to take very readily that useful medicine, the compound decoction of aloes.

Both rhubarb, aloes, and indeed other remedies which are nauseous if given as a liquid and are bulky in the form of powder, may very readily be given in extract in the form of very tiny pills. Thus I have constantly ordered the extract of rhubarb, which is nearly twice as strong as the powder, made up into pills scarcely bigger than what children call 'hundreds and thousands' and silver-coated. Ten or a dozen of these go down in a teaspoonful of jelly unknown, and with no expenditure of temper or tears.

The citrate of magnesia, or Dinneford's Magnesia, taken effervescing with lemon juice, or when the effervescence has passed off, or the French Limonade Purgative, are almost always very readily taken, and are often very useful in the little febrile attacks, or in the slight feverish rashes to which children are liable in the spring and autumn.

Mercurials should have no place among domestic remedies. I do not mean that the doctor need be called in to prescribe each time that they are given, but that the mother should learn from him distinctly with reference to each individual child the circumstances which justify their employment. They stimulate the liver, as well as produce thereby action of the bowels, but they have, especially if often employed, a far-reaching influence on the constitution, and that undoubtedly of a depressing kind: an influence more than made up for when really needed by their other qualities, and especially by their power in doing away with the results of many forms of chronic inflammation. They are 'edged tools,' however, and we know the proverb about those who play with them.[6]

Grey powder, blue pill, and calomel are the three forms in one or other of which mercurials are commonly given. Of the three, grey powder is the mildest; but it has the inconvenience of not infrequently causing nausea, or actual sickness. This objection does not apply to blue pill, which can be given either in the tiny pills of which I have already spoken, or else broken down, and given in a little jam, or in a teaspoonful of syrup or treacle. On the whole I prefer calomel in small doses. It has the great advantage of tastelessness, small bulk, and of never causing sickness. Half a grain of calomel may be regarded as equivalent to two grains of grey powder or blue pill.

I shall speak afterwards of other medicines, which may in various circumstances be given, to act upon the bowels; but the above include all that are at all fit for common use in the nursery.

Before leaving this subject I will add a word or two about the use of suppositories and lavements in infancy and childhood. A piece of paper rolled up into a conical form and greased, or a bit of soap, is not infrequently introduced by nurses just within the bowel, as a means of overcoming constipation in infants. The irritation of the muscle at its orifice (the sphincter, as it is termed) excites the bowels to action, and does away with the necessity for giving an aperient. The drawback from this, as well as from the use of the lavement, is that if frequently employed they become habitually necessary, and the bowels will then never act without their customary stimulus. The lavement, too, has the additional disadvantage that while the lower part of the bowel is in proportion more capacious in infancy and childhood than in the adult, this peculiarity becomes exaggerated by the constant distension of the intestine, and a larger and still larger quantity of fluid needs to be thrown up in order to produce the requisite action of the bowels.

Opiates and other soothing medicines should never be given except when prescribed by the doctor. Thirty-two deaths in England under five years of age in 1882 represent but a very small part of the evil wrought by the overdose or injudicious use of these remedies. Above all, soothing medicines of varying strength, as syrup of poppies, or of unknown composition, as Dalby's Carminative or Winslow's Soothing Syrup, should never be employed. The only safe preparation, and this to be given only by the doctor's orders or with his approval, is the compound tincture of camphor, or paregoric elixir, as it is called, of which sixty measured drops contain a quarter of a grain of opium. Ten to fifteen measured drops of this are a sufficient dose for a child one year old, and this ought not to be repeated within twelve hours. The repetition every few hours of small doses of opiates is quite as hazardous as the giving of a single overdose; and if it does not work serious mischief by stupefying the child, it renders it impossible to judge of its real condition.

Thus much may suffice with reference to the more important remedies. Others will necessarily call for notice when the diseases come to be considered in which they may be of service.

There are two points which still remain to be noticed before I leave the introductory part of this little book.

The first of these concerns the importance of keeping written notes in the course of every case of serious illness. For want of doing this the most imperfect and conflicting accounts of what has happened are given to the doctor. No person can watch to any good purpose for four-and-twenty hours together; and no one's memory, least of all in the midst of fatigue and anxiety, can correctly retain all details concerning medicine, food, and sleep, which yet it may be of paramount importance that the doctor should be made acquainted with. I am accustomed to desire a record to be kept on a sheet of paper divided into six columns, one for food, a second for medicine, a third for sleep, a fourth for the evacuations, and a fifth for any special point which the nature of the illness renders it of special moment to observe, while the date is entered on the first column of all, indicating when food or medicine was given, or when and for how long the child slept. It is best to enter the variations of temperature on a separate paper, in order that the doctor may at a glance perceive the daily changes in this important respect. No one who has not made the experiment can tell the relief which the keeping this simple record gives to the anxiety of nursing the sick, especially when the sick one is loved most tenderly.

The other point concerns the relations of the mother or of the parents to the doctor. I have often heard it said, 'Dr. Green always attends my husband and myself, but we have Dr. White for the servants and children,' implying a lower degree of medical knowledge as required in their case, and to be acknowledged by a lower rate of remuneration.

Need I say that the assumption is a mistaken one—that as much knowledge, as large experience, are needed in the one case as in the other; while over and above, to treat children successfully, a special tact and a special fondness for children are needed? A man may be a very good doctor without those special gifts; but their possession, apart from real medical knowledge, may make a good children's nurse, but never a good children's doctor.

Another matter not to be forgotten is the confidence to be reposed in the doctor—the readiness to acquiesce in his sometimes visiting the child more frequently in the course of an illness than the symptoms may seem to you to require. Were you involved in some civil action, in which your succession to large property was involved, you would scarcely expect your solicitor to give you his opinion on all the questions at a single interview. In the same way, the doctor, even the most experienced, may need to visit his little patient several times before he can feel quite certain as to the nature of the disease that is impending, while he may not wish to alarm you by suggesting all the possibilities that are present to his mind. The child after a restless night may be asleep, and it may be most undesirable to wake him; or he may be excessively cross and unmanageable, so that it is impossible to listen to his chest; or it may be very important to ascertain whether the high temperature present in the morning has risen still higher towards night, or whether, after free action of the bowels, it has fallen a degree or two, showing that no fever is impending, but that the undue heat of the body was occasioned by the constipation. Or, again, some remedy may have been ordered, of the effect of which the doctor does not feel quite sure: he wishes to see for himself whether it is right to continue or wiser to suspend it. The wise physician, like the able general, leaves as little as may be to chance.

Nearly forty years ago, in addressing a class of medical students, I said to them:

'If you are carefully to observe all the points which I have mentioned, and to make yourselves thoroughly masters of a case, you must be lavish of your time; you must be content to turn aside from the direct course of investigation, which you would pursue uninterruptedly in the adult, in order to soothe the waywardness of the child, to quiet its fears, or even to cheat it into good humour by joining in its play; and you must be ready to do this, not the first time only, but every time that you visit the child, and must try to win its affections in order to cure its disease. If you fail in the former, you will often be foiled in your attempts at the latter. Nor is this all; you must visit your patient very often if the disease is serious in its nature and rapid in its course. New symptoms succeed each other in infancy and childhood with great rapidity; complications occur that call for some change in your treatment, or the vital powers falter suddenly when you least expect it. The issues of life and death often hang on the immediate adoption of a certain plan of treatment, or on its timely discontinuance. Do not wait, therefore, for symptoms of great urgency before you visit a child three or four times a day; but if the disease is one in which changes are likely to take place rapidly, be frequent in your visits as well as watchful in your observation.'

Each year has added to my conviction of the perfect truth of each word which I have quoted. If you believe your doctor to be a man of integrity and intelligence, be thankful for his frequent visits, which will cease as his anxiety abates. Be convinced that in the mean time they are made, not for his sake, but for yours. If you doubt his integrity, change your doctor; but do not say to him in a tone and with an emphasis which there is no mistaking, 'Well, if you think it really necessary to come'!