smallest thing as of importance looked at from this point of view; if she is gifted by nature with the mother's heart, and the mother's love, how well it suits her to become a priestess of the temple in which the child should be sanctified to God—to the God of health and holiness! How sacred is her right to be there consecrated!
In the old times the physician was also the priest, and consecrated to holy mysteries. The descendants of Æsculapius were a holy race, and among them were also women; the daughter of Æsculapius, Hygeia, one of them, was called the goddess of health. Of this race came Hippocrates. We now talk about Hygeia, but we only talk. She must be recalled to earth; she must have room given to her, and justice done to her if she is to present the earth with a new Hippocrates.
But to return to my little human doctoress, who is not without those sparks of the divine life, which prove her to belong to the family of Æsculapius. One sees this in her eye, and hears it in her words. But the round short figure has wholly and entirely an earthly character, and nothing in it indicates the higher ideal life, excepting a pair of small, beautiful and white hands, as soft as silk—almost too soft, and, as I already said, a glance peculiarly sagacious and penetrating.
With her I saw several of the “emancipated ladies,” as they are called; such, for instance, as deliver public lectures, speak in public at antislavery meetings, etc. One of these struck me from the picturesque beauty of her figure and head, her pale noble countenance and rich golden hair, together with the perfect gentleness and womanliness of her whole demeanour and conversation, united to manly force of will and conviction. She is a Mrs. Paulina Davis, from Providence, and has for many years delivered with great success, lectures on physiology, which are much attended by the working classes. She and my little doctoress are warm friends. I saw also her
