"In a few, very few, whom I have had the pleasure to see reasonably nursed, that were not fed above two or three times in twenty-four hours, and yet were perfectly healthy, active, and happy, I have seen these signals, which were as intelligible as if they had spoken.
"There are many faults in the quality of children's food.
"1. It is not simple enough. Their paps, panadas, gruels, &c. are generally enriched with sugar, spices, and other nice things, and sometimes a drop of wine—none of which they ought ever to take. Our bodies never want them; they are what luxury only has introduced, to the destruction of the health of mankind.
"2. It is not enough that their food should be simple; it should also be light. Many people, I find, are mistaken in their notions of what is light, and fancy that most kinds of pastry, puddings, custards, &c. are light; that is, light of digestion. But there is nothing heavier, in this sense, than unfermented flour and eggs, boiled hard, which are the chief ingredients in some of these preparations.
"What I mean by light food—to give the best idea I can of it—is, any substance that is easily separated, and soluble in warm water. Good bread is the lightest thing I know, and the fittest food for young children. Cows' milk is also simple and light, and very good for them; but it is often injudiciously prepared. It should never be boiled; for boiling alters the taste and properties of it, destroys its sweetness, and makes it thicker, heavier, and less fit to mix and assimilate with the blood."
It is hardly necessary for me to repeat, that in these general views of Dr. C., with a few exceptions, I entirely concur; indeed some of them have already been presented. But I have expressed my doubts of the soundness of his conclusion in regard to sugar. Used with food, in very small quantity, by persons whose stomachs are already in a good condition, both sugar and molasses, especially the former, appear to me not only harmless, but wholesome and useful.
On the subject of simplicity in children's food, I should be glad to enlarge. There is nothing more important in diet than simplicity, and yet I think there is nothing more rare. To suit the fashion, everything must be mixed and varied. I have no objection to variety at different meals, both for children and adults; indeed I am disposed to recommend it, as will be seen hereafter. But I am utterly opposed to any considerable variety at the same meal; and above all, in a single dish. The simpler a dish can be, the better.
But let us look, for a moment, at the dishes of food which are often presented, even at what are called plain tables.
Meats cannot be eaten—so many persons think—without being covered with mustard, or pepper, or gravy—or soaked in vinegar; and not a few regard them as insipid, unless several of these are combined. Few people think a piece of plain boiled or broiled muscle (lean flesh) with nothing on it but a little salt, is fit to be eaten. Everything, it is thought, must be rendered more stimulating, or acrid; or must be swimming in gravy, or melted fat or butter.