We do most heartily believe that if, unbiassed by the self-interested and fraudulent assertions of quackery and empiricism, you would exert your own reasoning powers on the question, the doom of this abuse would soon be sealed. But as, in many another usage which men individually admit to be blots in that high state of civilization to which we have advanced, our apathy overcomes our desire for their correction, and we let them pass; so, because this wrong has forced its prostituting influence through the length and breadth of the land, magnified and sustained as it is by the terrorism of treatises, and the artistic display of its abettors, despite the warnings of our consciences, we yield ourselves to its guidance, we dare not lift up the veil which conceals its abominations, and even fear, cowards that we are, to question its privileges, privileges which a "damned custom" has accorded; privileges the very thought of which should make the blood curdle in our veins with disgust and horror! For if we for a moment reflect upon the precepts laid down in the indecent farragos of "obstetric science," and further upon the fact, that these precepts are invariably carried into effect, whenever the "patient" can be induced to submit to the outrages therein enjoined, we must acknowledge that in all such cases purity itself can oppose no effectual barrier to these insidious assaults, and that modesty must fly from the chamber when the _man_-midwife crosses its threshold. O hateful, horrible thought! that the young bride, radiant with joyous innocence, and love's glowing fantasies, "beautiful exceedingly," and pure as fair, must in a few short months, in blind obedience to a spurious custom, yield herself to the pollution of a stranger's _touch_, and banish for ever from her husband's soul that dear delicious dream, entirety of possession! This is no exaggerated picture, no overstrained description of that mortal stain which rends into very shreds the charm of delicacy; but a simple truth, a terrible reality, not to be glozed over by the fallacious reasonings of frigid philosophy. O men! if you have the souls of men, if one drop of the old chivalrous blood of your ancestors yet palpitates in your veins, if you have not irrecoverably bowed down to the idol custom, if mammon, lust of gain and power, with all the fell catalogue of vicious inclinations, have left but one cell unoccupied in your heart's mansion, if you yet hold woman to be the fairest, purest, best of the Creator's works; oh! let the cry of "out damned spot," rise heavenward from every home in the United Kingdom; let sacred purity once more assert her rights, let nature's illimitable powers do their work unaided, undefiled by the sordid infamy of charlatanism, and future generations shall gratefully invoke unnumbered blessings on the memory of those who saved the daughters of England from the curse of a cruel degradation. THE END. Footnotes: