ing persons in the same room with them than overhead, or
separated by only a thin compartment. Any sacrifice to secure silence
for these cases is worth while, because no air, however good, no
attendance, however careful, will do anything for such cases without
quiet.

[Sidenote: Music.]

NOTE.--The effect of music upon the sick has been scarcely at all
noticed. In fact, its expensiveness, as it is now, makes any general
application of it quite out of the question. I will only remark
here, that wind instruments, including the human voice, and stringed
instruments, capable of continuous sound, have generally a
beneficent effect--while the piano-forte, with such instruments as
have _no_ continuity of sound, has just the reverse. The finest
piano-forte playing will damage the sick, while an air, like "Home,
sweet home," or "Assisa a pie d'un salice," on the most ordinary
grinding organ will sensibly soothe them--and this quite independent
of association.

V. VARIETY.

[Sidenote: Variety a means of recovery.]

To any but an old nurse, or an old patient, the degree would be quite
inconceivable to which the nerves of the sick suffer from seeing the
same walls, the same ceiling, the same surroundings during a long
confinement to one or two rooms.

The superior cheerfulness of persons suffering severe paroxysms of pain
over that of persons suffering from nervous debility has often been
remarked upon, and attributed to the enjoyment of the former of their
intervals of respite. I incline to think that the majority of cheerful
cases is to be found among those patients who are not confined to one
room, whatever their suffering, and that the majority of depressed cases
will be seen among those subjected to a long monotony of objects about
them.

The nervous frame really suffers as much from this as the digestive
organs from long monotony of diet, as e.g. the soldier from his
twenty-one years' "boiled beef."

[Sidenote: Colour and form means of recovery.]

The effect in sickness of beautiful objects, of variety of objects, and
especially of brilliancy of colour is hardly at all appreciated.

Such cravings are usually called the "fancies" of patients. And often
doubtless patients have "fancies," as, e.g. when they desire two
contradictions. But much more often, their (so called) "fancies" are the
most valuable indications of what is necessary for their recovery. And
it w