When we were all sitting around the dinner-table, I introduced the
subject again, for it was very sad to find this beautiful and
promising child so fragile. Before I left, I took little Susie's
hand and we walked into the garden. "And now," said I, "my little
one, you must show me your favorite flower."
She took me to a beautiful moss-rose, and exclaimed, "Oh, that is
the most beautiful flower in the world; don't you think it lovely,
sir?"
I said, "Now, Susie, I shall come here again in two weeks. I wish
you would dress up that rose-bush in a suit of your own clothes, and
allow the dress to remain till I return."
She laughed, and said, "Why, how queer! why do you want me to do
that?"
I replied, "Never mind, but run and get the clothes, and I will help
you dress it up, and see if it looks like you."
So off she ran with loud shouts to ask mamma for a suit of her
clothes. Of course, mamma had to come and ask if I was serious, and
what were my reasons. I said, "I cannot give you my reasons today,
but I assure you they are good ones, and when I come again I will
explain it all to you."
So a specimen of each and every kind of garment that Susie was in
the habit of wearing was brought forward, and Susie and I spent some
time in rigging out the rose-bush. First came the little shirt,
which made it look very funny; then came the little waist and skirt,
then the frock, then the apron, and, finally, over all, a little
Shaker sun-bonnet. When we had reached this point, Susie cried out,
"Now, how can you put on stockings and shoes?" I said, "We will cut
open the stockings and tie them around; the shoes we cannot use." Of
course we all laughed, and Susie thought I was the funniest man in
the world. She could hardly wait for me to come again, to tell her
why I had done such a funny thing.
In two weeks, according to my promise, I was at my friend's house
again. Susie had watched her little rose-bush, or, rather, the
clothes which covered it, and longed for my coming. But when we took
the bonnet, gown, skirt, shirt and stockings away, lo and behold,
the beautiful rose-bush had lost its rich green, the flower had lost
its beautiful color,--had become, like its mistress, pale and
sickly.
"Oh!" she cried, "what made you do so? why, you have spoiled my
beautiful rose-bush."
I said, "Now, my dear little one, you must not blame me, for I did
this that you might remember something of great importance to you.
You and this rose-bush live out here in the broad, genial sunshine
together. You are pale and sickly; the rose-bush has been healthy
and beautiful. I put your clothes on this rose-bush to show you why
you are so white and weak. If we had kept these clothes upon the
bush for a month or two, it would have entirely lost its color and
health."
"But would you have me go naked, sir?"
"No, not altogether; but I would have you healthy and happy. And now
I am going to ask your papa to build out here in the garden a little
yard, with a close fence, and when the sun shines you must come out
into the yard with your nurse, and take off all your clothes, and
play in the sunshine for half an hour, or until your skin looks
pretty red."
After a hearty laugh, the good papa asked if I was serious about it.
I told him, never more so, and that when I should come to them
again, a month hence, if Susie had such a baptism in the sunshine
four or five times a week, I could promise that the headache and
sleeplessness from which she suffered so much would be lessened, and
perhaps removed.
The carpenter was set at work, and in two days the enclosure
surrounding a bed of flowers was completed. At eleven o'clock the
next morning, a naked little girl, with a very white skin, might
have been seen running about within the pen; papa, mamma, and the
nurse clapping their hands and shouting. I had been careful to say
that her head should be well protected for the first few days with a
large damp towel, then with a little flat hat, and, finally, the
head must be exposed like the body.
I looked forward with a good deal of interest to my next visit.
Susie met me with, "Oh, I am as black as an Indian."
"Well, but how is your health?"
The good mother said, "She certainly has greatly improved; her
appetite is better, and I never knew her to sleep so well before."
There were four children in the family, and all of them greatly
needed sun-baths. As there were two boys and two girls, it came to
pass soon that another pen was built, and four naked children
received a daily baptism in the blessed sunshine. And these children
all improved in health, as much as that rose-bush did after we
removed its funny dress. The good Lord has so made children that
they are as dependent upon the sun for their life and health as
plants are. When you try to make a house-plant grow far removed from
the window, where the direct rays of the sun cannot fall upon it,
you know it is small, pale and sickly; it will not long survive. If,
in addition to keeping it from the window, you dress it with the
clothes which a child wears, it will very soon sicken and die. If
you keep within doors, and do not go into the sunshine, or if, when
you do go out, you wear a Shaker bonnet and gloves, you must, like
the house-plant, become pale and sickly.
Our young folks will ask me, "What is to be done? Are we to go
naked?"
Oh no, not naked, but it would add greatly to your health and
strength, and your ability to work with both mind and body, if every
part of your body could be exposed to the sunshine a little time
every day. And if you are pale and feeble, the victim of throat,
lung, nerve, or other affection, you must seek a new life in this
exposure of your whole body to the sun-bath. But if you go a great
deal in the open air, and expose your face and hands to the direct
rays of the sun, you will probably do very well.
Just think of it, your whole body under the clothes, always in the
dark, like a potato-vine trying to grow in a dark cellar. When you
take off your dress and look at your skin, are you not sometimes
almost frightened to see how white and ghastly it seems? How
elastic, tough and cheerful our young folks would become, could this
white, sickly skin be exposed every day to the sunshine! In no other
way could they spend an hour which would contribute so much to their
welfare. Carry that white, sickly potato-vine from the cellar out
into the blessed sunshine, and immediately it begins to get color,
health and strength. Carry that pale little girl from the dark
parlor, where she is nervous, irritable and unhappy, into the
sunshine, and immediately the blood starts anew; soon the skin takes
on a beautiful tinge, the little one digests better, her tongue
wears a better color, she sleeps better, her nerves are quiet, and
many happy changes come.
Twenty years ago I saw a dear, sweet child, of two years, die of
croup. More than thirty hours we stood around its bed, working,
weeping, praying, hoping, despairing; but about one o'clock in the
morning the last painful struggle for breath gave way to the
peaceful sleep of death.
On the following Sunday we gathered at the sad home to attend the
funeral. The little coffin was brought out under a shade-tree, and
placed upon a chair, just under the window of the bedroom where the
little one had always slept, and there the heart-broken mother and
father, with many neighbors, and the kind-hearted minister, all wept
together. And then we all walked to the graveyard, only a little
distance away, and buried the little one in the cold ground.
On the very evening of that day, the brother of Charlie, who was
about two years older, was taken with the same disease. I was called
in to see him. Oh, how pitiful, how very touching, were the moanings
and groanings of that mother! When the sun rose the next morning,
the sufferer was better; as night came on he was much worse again,
but on the following day was able to ride out.
Within a few days I sought an opportunity to speak with the parents
about the management of their little son. It was painful to tell
them that I thought they might have prevented the death of Charlie.
But I said what I thought was true, and then advised a new policy in
the case of the remaining child. I said to them, "Your son who has
been taken from you, was carefully screened from the sunshine. When
he rode out in the baby-wagon, it was always under cover. And he
slept always in that bedroom, into which the direct rays of the sun
never come; that great tree makes it impossible. A child cannot live
where a plant will not grow; and if you doubt what I am telling you,
try a pot of flowers in Charlie's bedroom. You will find that, in a
single month, the leaves will fall, and the plant will die. Charlie
spent three quarters of his life in that bedroom."
The mother, at length, when convinced, cried out in very anguish of
soul, "What shall we do? what shall we do?"
"Well," I said, "my dear friend, if you would save this child, and
that is the only available sleeping-room for it, I advise that you
have the trees which shade that part of the house cut down. Trees
should never be allowed to shade human dwellings. They are very
beautiful and noble objects, to my own fancy more beautiful and
noble than any other productions of our planet, and I would have
them multiplied, but would not have them near our houses."
The trees were cut down, the blessed sunshine came in to dry,
sweeten and purify the bedroom. Its atmosphere was so changed that
no one could fail to observe it. The child was kept much in the open
air, and when taking his midday nap, he was occasionally laid naked
upon a mattress, near a window, in the direct rays of the sun, his
head protected, but the rest of the body exposed to the sunshine.
The little fellow's health greatly improved. I believe he never had
another attack of croup.
Our young folks should never sleep in bedrooms that have not the
direct sunshine. They should never sleep in bedrooms the windows of
which are shaded by a piazza or a tree; and if they would have the
very best health, they must live as constantly as possible in the
sunshine. And all who have delicate health must, with their clothes
removed, take daily sun-baths during the summer season. Such a bath
will give them very little trouble, and they have no idea how much
it will add to their health and happiness. One good bath in the
sunshine is worth more than many baths in water, valuable as these
are. Some people admire pale girls. They make very good ghosts, but
are not worth much as girls. God hung up that great sun in the
heavens as the fountain of light, health, beauty and glory for our
earth. Our young folks, by living in houses with piazzas, shade-
trees, close blinds and curtains, and by using in their walks broad-
brimmed hats, gloves, parasols and veils deprive themselves, in
great part, of the many blessings which our Heavenly Father would
confer on them through the great sun.
The above was widely circulated in "Our Young Folks," and has been
copied into other magazines and papers. I can but trust it has been
productive of good.
For many years I have advised, in the case of a weak, emaciated
child, the sun-bath. These little, frail, half-baked creatures that
die of marasmus, would, in hundreds of cases recover, if they could
be thoroughly cooked, or baked over in the sun. With what magical
rapidity I have seen little, ghostly, dying things recover, by two
or three hours daily sleeping and rolling about naked in the
sunshine.
We all know that hot fomentations, sharp friction, mustard
poultices, blisters, and other counter-irritants constitute the most
effective part of medical treatment; it is the only feature which
has continued from age to age in the art of medicine. In everything
else there has been constant change, revolution, contradiction. But
the practice of counter-irritation has continued, without essential
modifications, from time immemorial to the present hour. In exposing
the skin to a burning sun, we get more of counter-irritation than by
all other means; it reaches every part of the surface, and more than
all this, there is, in the sun's rays, a vitalizing power which
comes from no other source. Plants soon die in any other light. The
strongest gas-light will not help them; but they reflect the
gorgeous beauty of the sun, and send up a fragrance of thanksgiving.
Men would become ghastly in the concentrated light of a thousand
gas-burners; it is only in the sun-light that they can live. If this
vitalizing power could flood the entire skin of a pale girl two or
three hours a day, in a few months she would astonish us with her
abounding vitality and spirit.