the extremest austerities into an almost demoniac
wickedness. They simply exhibit the uncontrollable
vehemence of long-denied desires. Consider the
ordinary tastes and the ordinary treatment of children.
The love of sweets is conspicuous and almost universal
among them. Probably ninety-nine people in a
hundred presume that there is nothing more in this
than gratification of the palate; and that, in common
with other sensual desires, it should be discouraged.
The physiologist, however, whose discoveries lead
him to an ever-increasing reverence for the arrangements
of things, suspects something more in this love of
sweets than is currently supposed; and inquiry confirms
the suspicion. He finds that sugar plays an important
part in the vital processes. Both saccharine
and fatty matters are eventually oxidised in the body;
and there is an accompanying evolution of heat.
Sugar is the form to which sundry other compounds
have to be reduced before they are available as heat-making
food; and this formation of sugar is carried
on in the body. Not only is starch changed into
sugar in the course of digestion, but it has been
proved by M. Claude Bernard that the liver is a factory
in which other constituents of food are transformed
into sugar: the need for sugar being so imperative
that it is even thus produced from nitrogenous substances
when no others are given. Now, when to the fact
that children have a marked desire for this valuable
heat-food, we join the fact that they have usually
a marked dislike to that food which gives out the
greatest amount of heat during oxidation (namely, fat),
we have reason for thinking that excess of the one
compensates for defect of the other—that
the organism demands more sugar because it cannot
deal with much fat. Again, children are fond of
vegetable acids. Fruits of all kinds are their
delight; and, in the absence of anything better, they
will devour unripe gooseberries and the sourest of
crabs. Now not only are vegetable acids, in common
with mineral ones, very good tonics, and beneficial
as such when taken in moderation; but they have, when
administered in their natural forms, other advantages.
“Ripe fruit,” says Dr. Andrew Combe, “is
more freely given on the Continent than in this country;
and, particularly when the bowels act imperfectly,
it is often very useful.” See, then, the
discord between the instinctive wants of children
and their habitual treatment. Here are two dominant
desires, which in all probability express certain
needs of the child’s constitution; and not only
are they ignored in the nursery-regimen, but there
is a general tendency to forbid the gratification of
them. Bread-and-milk in the morning, tea and
bread-and-butter at night, or some dietary equally
insipid, is rigidly adhered to; and any ministration
to the palate is thought needless, or rather, wrong.
What is the consequence? When, on fete-days,
there is unlimited access to good things—when
a gift of pocket-money brings the contents of the


