“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.

Bread, though proverbially the staff of life, can scarcely be eaten in its simple state.  It must be buttered, or honied, or toasted, or soaked in milk, or dipped in gravy.  Puddings must have cherries or fruits of some sort, or spices in them, and must be sweetened largely.  Or perhaps—­more ridiculous still—­they must have suet in them.  And after all this is done, who can eat them without the addition of sauce, or butter, or molasses, or cream?  Potatoes, boiled, steamed or roasted, delightful as they are to an unperverted appetite, are yet thought by many people hardly palatable till they are mashed, and buttered or gravied; or perhaps soaked in vinegar.  In short, the plainest and simplest article for the table is deemed nearly unfit for the stomach, till it has been buttered, and peppered, and spiced, and perhaps pearlashed.