confectioner’s window within reach, or when by some accident the free run of a fruit-garden is obtained; then the long-denied, and therefore intense, desires lead to great excesses.  There is an impromptu carnival, due partly to release from past restraints, and partly to the consciousness that a long Lent will begin on the morrow.  And then, when the evils of repletion display themselves, it is argued that children must not be left to the guidance of their appetites!  These disastrous results of artificial restrictions, are themselves cited as proving the need for further restrictions!  We contend, therefore, that the reasoning used to justify this system of interference is vicious.  We contend that, were children allowed daily to partake of these more sapid edibles, for which there is a physiological requirement, they would rarely exceed, as they now mostly do when they have the opportunity:  were fruit, as Dr. Combe recommends, “to constitute a part of the regular food” (given, as he advises, not between meals, but along with them), there would be none of that craving which prompts the devouring of crabs and sloes.  And similarly in other cases.

Not only is it that the a priori reasons for trusting the appetites of children are strong; and that the reasons assigned for distrusting them are invalid; but it is that no other guidance is worthy of confidence.  What is the value of this parental judgment, set up as an alternative regulator?  When to “Oliver asking for more,” the mamma or governess says “No,” on what data does she proceed?  She thinks he has had enough.  But where are her grounds for so thinking?  Has she some secret understanding with the boy’s stomach—­some clairvoyant power enabling her to discern the needs of his body?  If not, how can she safely decide?  Does she not know that the demand of the system for food is determined by numerous and involved causes—­varies with the temperature, with the hygrometric state of the air, with the electric state of the air—­varies also according to the exercise taken, according to the kind and quantity of food eaten at the last meal, and according to the rapidity with which the last meal was digested?  How can she calculate the result of such a combination of causes?  As we heard said by the father of a five-years-old boy, who stands a head taller than most of his age, and is proportionately robust, rosy, and active:—­“I can see no artificial standard by which to mete out his food.  If I say, ‘this much is enough,’ it is a mere guess; and the guess is as likely to be wrong as right.  Consequently, having no faith in guesses, I let him eat his fill.”  And certainly, any one judging of his policy by its effects, would be constrained to admit its wisdom.  In truth, this confidence, with which most parents legislate for the stomachs of their children, proves their unacquaintance with physiology:  if they knew more, they would be more modest.  “The pride of science is