I should advise strict attention to the rules above mentioned, and change of air—more especially, if it be possible, to the coast. Change of air, sometimes, upon a delicate child, acts like magic, and may restore him to health when all other means have failed. If a girl be delicate, "carry her off to the farm, there to undergo the discipline of new milk, brown bread, early hours, no lessons, and romps in the hay-field."—Blackwood. This advice is, of course, equally applicable for a delicate boy, as delicate boys and delicate girls ought to be treated alike. Unfortunately in these very enlightened days there is too great a distinction made in the respective management and treatment of boys and girls.
The best medicines for a delicate child will be the wine of iron and cod-liver oil. Give them combined in the manner I shall advise when speaking of the treatment of Rickets.
In diseases of long standing, and that resist the usual remedies, there is nothing like change of air. Hippocrates, the father of medicine, says—
"In longis morbis solum mutare."
(In tedious diseases to change the place of residence.)
A child who, in the winter, is always catching cold, whose life during half of the year is one continued catarrh, who is in consequence, likely, if he grow up at all, to grow up a confirmed invalid, ought, during the winter months, to seek another clime; and if the parents can afford the expense, they should at the beginning of October, cause him to bend his steps to the south of Europe—Mentone being as good a place as they could probably fix upon.
255. Do you approve of sea bathing for a delicate young child?
No: he is frequently so frightened by it that the alarm would do him more harm than the bathing would do him good. The better plan would be to have him every morning well sponged, especially his back and loins, with sea water; and to have him as much as possible carried on the beach, in order that he may inhale the sea breezes. When he be older, and is not frightened at being dipped, sea bathing will be very beneficial to him. If bathing is to do good, either to an adult or to a child, it must be anticipated with pleasure, and neither with dread nor with distaste.
256. What is the best method for administering medicine to a child?
If he be old enough, appeal to his reason; for, if a mother endeavour to deceive her child, and he detect her, he will for the future suspect her. If he be too young to be reasoned with, then, if he will not take his medicine, he must be compelled. Lay him across your knees, let both his hands and his nose be tightly held, and then, by means of the patent medicine-spoon, or, if that be not at hand, by either a tea or a dessert-spoon, pour the medicine down his throat, and he will be obliged to swallow it.
It may be said that this is a cruel procedure; but it is the only way to compel an unruly child to take physic, and is much less cruel than running the risk of his dying from the medicine not having been administered. [Footnote: If any of my medical brethren should perchance read these Conversations, I respectfully and earnestly recommend them to take more pains in making medicines for children pleasant and palatable. I am convinced that, in the generality of instances, provided a little more care and thought were bestowed on the subject, it may be done; and what an amount of both trouble and annoyance it would save! It is really painful to witness the struggles and cries of a child when nauseous medicine is to be given; the passion and excitement often do more harm than the medicine does good.]