ould be well if nurses would watch these (so called) "fancies"
closely.

I have seen, in fevers (and felt, when I was a fever patient myself) the
most acute suffering produced from the patient (in a hut) not being able
to see out of window, and the knots in the wood being the only view. I
shall never forget the rapture of fever patients over a bunch of
bright-coloured flowers. I remember (in my own case) a nosegay of wild
flowers being sent me, and from that moment recovery becoming more
rapid.

[Sidenote: This is no fancy.]

People say the effect is only on the mind. It is no such thing. The
effect is on the body, too. Little as we know about the way in which we
are affected by form, by colour, and light, we do know this, that they
have an actual physical effect.

Variety of form and brilliancy of colour in the objects presented to
patients are actual means of recovery.

But it must be _slow_ variety, e.g., if you shew a patient ten or
twelve engravings successively, ten-to-one that he does not become cold
and faint, or feverish, or even sick; but hang one up opposite him, one
on each successive day, or week, or month, and he will revel in the
variety.

[Sidenote: Flowers.]

The folly and ignorance which reign too often supreme over the
sick-room, cannot be better exemplified than by this. While the nurse
will leave the patient stewing in a corrupting atmosphere, the best
ingredient of which is carbonic acid; she will deny him, on the plea of
unhealthiness, a glass of cut-flowers, or a growing plant. Now, no one
ever saw "overcrowding" by plants in a room or ward. And the carbonic
acid they give off at nights would not poison a fly. Nay, in overcrowded
rooms, they actually absorb carbonic acid and give off oxygen.
Cut-flowers also decompose water and produce oxygen gas. It is true
there are certain flowers, e.g., lilies, the smell of which is said to
depress the nervous system. These are easily known by the smell, and can
be avoided.

[Sidenote: Effect of body on mind.]

Volumes are now written and spoken upon the effect of the mind upon the
body. Much of it is true. But I wish a little more was thought of the
effect of the body on the mind. You who believe yourselves overwhelmed
with anxieties, but are able every day to walk up Regent-street, or out
in the country, to take your meals with others in other rooms, &c., &c.,
you little know how much your anxieties are thereby lightened; you
little know how in