CHAPTER XVIII.
PRENATAL INFLUENCES.
Space does not permit us to go into a full discussion of the theories and of the principles which lie at the basis of prenatal influences. A few illustrations, however, will be suggestive, induce thoughtful consideration, and possibly lead many to a fuller investigation of the subject.
It is said that the mother of Robert Burns, the Scottish poet, was of a very happy disposition, and evinced a remarkable memory for old songs and ballads, and these she would sing as she went about her daily household duties.
Another instance often named is that of Napoleon Bonaparte. During the months preceding his birth his mother is said to have accompanied her husband on horseback upon one of his military campaigns. For several months she lived in the midst of military surroundings, and became personally interested in the arts of war. These influences stamped their impress upon her unborn child, whose earliest manifestation of childish interest after his birth was an exhibition of the warlike spirit. His thoughts and boyhood conversation were of war and conquest.
Mr. C. J. Bayer, in his interesting and suggestive book, entitled "Maternal Impressions," tells of a woman who, during the period of gestation, was stinted in her allowance of money, and stole from the cash-drawer in her husband's store. The son that was born to them was a kleptomaniac, whose stealing was limited to those of his own family and relatives. He stole his sister's watch, his mother's gold chain, a new suit and a diamond pin from his father; but he was never known to take anything from any one except his near relatives. If mothers would have honest children they should be careful to entertain no dishonest inclinations.
The result of an unsuccessful effort to murder one's own unborn offspring is seen in Guiteau, the assassin who shot President Garfield in 1881. His father was a man of some intellectual ability and integrity of character. The Guiteau children were born in rapid succession, and, because of lack of means, the mother, who was in poor health, was obliged to work harder than would have otherwise been the case. Before the birth of this child she resorted to every means in her power, by the use of drugs, to produce an abortion. In this she was unsuccessful. For several weeks during the latter part of her pregnancy she had brain fever, which probably also had the effect of arresting the development of some parts of the brain of her child. When the child was born it was weak and puny, and for months its life was one continual wail. It was months before the nervous system became at all quiet. He was deficient in common sense, without self-control, and entirely destitute of every vestige of remorse or shame. He was born a degenerate and a murderer.
From the great mass of matter which is available upon the subject of prenatal influences, Dr. Napheys tells of the artist Flaxman, the outlines of whose drawings used to be regarded as the most perfect and graceful in existence: "From earliest childhood he manifested a delight in drawing. His mother, a woman of refinement and artistic taste, used to relate that for months previous to his birth she spent hours daily studying engravings, and fixing in her memory the most beautiful productions of the human figure as portrayed by masters. She was convinced that the genius of her son was the fruit of her own self-culture."