new mother's position, will live in her cottage, where his tutor
will follow him. The reader will bear in mind that this tutor is
not a paid servant, but the father's friend. But if this friend
cannot be found, if this transfer is not easy, if none of my advice
can be followed, you will say to me, "What shall I do instead?" I
have told you already--"Do what you are doing;" no advice is needed
there.

Men are not made to be crowded together in ant-hills, but scattered
over the earth to till it. The more they are massed together, the
more corrupt they become. Disease and vice are the sure results of
over-crowded cities. Of all creatures man is least fitted to live
in herds. Huddled together like sheep, men would very soon die.
Man's breath is fatal to his fellows. This is literally as well as
figuratively true.

Men are devoured by our towns. In a few generations the race dies
out or becomes degenerate; it needs renewal, and it is always
renewed from the country. Send your children to renew themselves,
so to speak, send them to regain in the open fields the strength
lost in the foul air of our crowded cities. Women hurry home that
their children may be born in the town; they ought to do just the
opposite, especially those who mean to nurse their own children. They
would lose less than they think, and in more natural surroundings
the pleasures associated by nature with maternal duties would soon
destroy the taste for other delights.

The new-born infant is first bathed in warm water to which a little
wine is usually added. I think the wine might be dispensed with.
As nature does not produce fermented liquors, it is not likely that