done without; no dirty pots and pans, with
hideous Jacobian messes swimming on the hob;
no unwashed glasses, with the lip mark left in
filthy ripples at the edge, nor spoons with the oil
in a clammy cloud about the bowl, or with the
dregs of the draught congregated into a
mahogany-coloured pool; not the smallest thing about,
that could shock the keenest sense of nose or eye,
and then, perhaps, you may come up to the mark
of the needful amount of sick-room cleanliness.
Make no noise, or as little as need be; but for
the sake of suffering humanity, do not imitate
Muff, and think that whispering and creeping
about on tiptoes, means sick-room silence. These,
are almost worse than our dear elephant's mode
of slapping things down with a bang, and of
speaking to you from the door, as if she were
hailing a man-of-war. "A firm, light, quick
step, a steady, quick hand, are the desiderata;
not the slow, lingering, shuffling foot, the timid,
uncertain hand. Slowness is not gentleness,
though it is often mistaken for such. Quickness,
lightness, and gentleness, are quite
compatible." A rustling nurse is an abomination;
a nurse with crinoline, silk petticoats, creaking
stays, or squeaking shoes, with keys that
jingle in her pocket, with a chain that flaps
against her steel buckle, with jingling bracelets
or charms, or even with floating ribbons, is
absolutely inadmissible in a sick-room, and should
be gently shown the door at the earliest
opportunity.

Never stand or fidget about, when the patient
speaks with you, and always sit where he can
see you without turning his head. Be quiet and
motionless when you speak to him, and never
gesticulate. Speak with an even voice, without
undue emphasis, without drawl, and with no
hesitation; and never speak from behind the
door, or from the fireplace, or with your back
turned. Never speak at all, or walk quickly
towards him, while your patient is standing or
moving about: " a patient in such a state is not
going to the East Indies," and if you would but
wait ten seconds, or walk ten yards farther, any
promenade he could make would be over. Under
no pretence whatever, wake him out of his sleep.
"He who sleeps, dines," says the hungry
Frenchman, gaily; and he who sleeps in sickness is
getting all the good which food or medicine
could give him. Never tell your patient of
any irresolution, doubt, or change in your own
mind. " People who think outside their heads,"
who count aloud every link in the chain of
thought, have no business with the sick, for
they fatigue them by their changes of imagination,
quite as much as if they had carried the
poor weak limbs as many yards or miles as they
proposed. Leave the sick-room quickly; and
come in quickly; not with a rush, not suddenly,
and like a bull; but lightly and decidedly; not as
if you were leaving half your mind behind you,
and the other half were turning round to seek it.
"Conciseness and decision in your movements
are as necessary in the sick-room as absence of
hurry and bustle. To possess yourself entirely
will ensure you from either failing, either loitering
or hurrying." Reading aloud to the sick is
an exercise to be very rarely followed, and then
only under strict charge, of clear, distinct, even
toned, and not lengthy trials: taking care that
every word is heard distinctly, that there is no
mouthing, and no plunging, and that the course
is short and unfatiguing.

"Variety of form and brilliancy of colour in
the objects presented to patients are actual
means of recovery;" wherefore, by all means
gather together as much variety as possible.
Hang up an engraving where the patient can see
it, and change it every day, or week, or month,
as may be; have a growing plant or a few cut
flowers near the patient; let the light come in
freely and lovingly, unless in such cases as make it
painful and hurtful; and, if possible, let the bed
be so placed that he can look at the view beyond,
and gather into his sick soul a little of the health
and vigour of the natural world. Let him have
bright and cheerful subjects for thought, and
win his mind as much as possible from the
eternal contemplation of his own miseries, and
the terrible self-consciousness which creeps over
us all during illness. But this variety must
be given temperately and judiciously; care
must be taken not to fatigue by a too rapid
change, or by the exhibition of colours or of
objects, which, through some idiosyncrasy or
other, exhaust and depress rather than stimulate
and encourage. Again, so soon as the sick can
use their hands, let them. Let them have a
little needlework, a little netting, a little manual
labour of some kind. The doing faculty is so
large an instinct with humanity that absolute
idleness soon becomes one of the most intolerable
of curses.

Never let a patient see his food raw, or smell
it in the process of cooking, or know anything
about it until it is presented to him, warm,
tempting, and at the right moment, when his
appetite is most craving. Hours of appetite vary
in different individuals, and it is well to study
their period of recurrence in the particular case
under charge. If twelve be better than two, or
four than six, make the principal meal
appear at the desired hour. It is mere pedantry
to say that one o'clock, or twelve, or two, is to
be the hour of dinner, liked or not; and that it
is the wholesomest time, and that people must do
what is right. People, sick people at least, will
only do what they like; and what they like is
generally Nature's own mode of expressing her
opinion as to what they ought to do and ought
to have. Do not leave uneaten food by the
patient; and, unless you wish him to eat
nothing at all, do not let him " always have
something beside him." Be careful that everything
about his meals is scrupulously clean, and that
every article of food is fresh and in good condition.
Be chary of jellies, except as refreshment
for a parched mouth, but do not trust to
them for nourishment; and with beef-tea, regard
it rather as containing a "certain reparative
quality, we do not know what," than as so much
actual nourishment. Dr. Christison says of
beef-tea, that " possibly it belongs to a new