ANOTHER CASE.--"I never noticed anything about P---- for some years. Three months before he was born a friend, whom I will call Smith, was badly hurt, and was brought to my house to be nursed. I turned out the nursery and he lay there for three months. I nursed him until I could do so no longer, and then took lodgings in town for my confinement. Now after all these years I have discovered how this surgical nursing has left its mark. The boy is in his element when he can be of use in cases of accident, etc. He said to me quite lately: 'How I wish you had made a surgeon of me!' Then all at once it flashed in upon me, but, alas! it was too late to remedy the mistake. "Before the birth of the third child I passed ten of the happiest months of my life. We had a nice house, one side of which was covered with cloth of gold roses and bougainvillea, a garden with plenty of flowers, and a vineyard. Here we lived an idyllic life, and did nothing but fish, catch butterflies and paint them. At least my husband painted them after I had caught them and mixed his colors. At the end of this time L---- was born. This child excels in artistic talent of many kinds; nothing comes amiss to her, and she draws remarkably well. She is of a bright gay disposition, finding much happiness in life, even though not always placed in the most fortunate surroundings. "Before the birth of my next child, N----, a daughter, I had a bad time. My husband fell ill of fever, and I had to nurse him without help or assistance of any kind. We had also losses by floods. I don't know how I got through that year, but I had no time for reading. N---- is the most prudent, economical girl I know. She is a splendid housekeeper and a good cook, and will work till she drops; has no taste for reading, but seems to gain knowledge by suction." Such cases are so numerous that they should be collected and scientifically studied. _Luxury and Parentage._ In all ages of luxury, fine ladies try to avoid maternity. They detest it in theory only, for women are controlled by the instinct of the race. In the circles of which we are speaking, the instincts of the race for children have vanished. Life has lost its serious meaning. Responsibility of any kind is a mere nuisance, and the idea of bringing up a new life, with all its bonds and its charm, is as repellant as the idea of a new bonnet is enticing. For such women the world has no use. Beautiful, in the great sense, they are not. Incapable, in any great way, of either loving or being loved, they are at best the painted bubbles on the stream of life. Such women will always be far inferior as mothers, and less capable of bringing into the world noble offspring than those women in the humble walks of life who live naturally, who love the family ties and are fond of the young.