i88o.] 
On Sound as a Nuisance. 
57i 
secured. Accordingly muffled knockers, streets covered with 
straw or spent tan, and attendants moving about with noise- 
less step, are universally recognised as the signs and the 
requirements of severe disease. Bui the truth that noise is 
a contributor to the wear and tear of modern city life has 
scarcely yet been realised by the faculty, not to speak of the 
outside public. Consequently, whilst a zealous war is being 
urged against other anti-sanitary agencies, no general 
attempts for the abolition of superfluous noise have yet been 
made. We cannot, perhaps, give anything approaching to 
a scientific explanation why sound in excess should have an 
injurious effedb upon our nervous system. Prof. Berthelot 
has recently shown, by a careful series of experiments, that 
sound-waves do not, like thermic and luminous vibrations, 
set up chemical changes in bodies submitted to their influ- 
ence ; but our inability to give an account of the fa Ct does 
not affeCt its existence. We feel that noise is distressing, 
exhaustive. The strongest man after days spent amidst 
noise and clatter, longs for relief, though he may not know 
from what. It may even be suggested that the comparative 
silence of the sea-side, the country, or the mountains, is the 
main charm of our summer and autumn holidays, and con- 
tributes much more than does ozone to restore a healthy 
tone to the brains of our wearied men of business. Indeed, 
if we consider, we shall find that this is the most unnatural 
feature of modern life. In our cities and commercial towns 
the ear is never at rest, and is continually conveying to the 
brain impressions rarely pleasant, still more rarely useful or 
instructive, but always perturbing, always savouring of un- 
rest. In addition to the indistinct but never-ceasing sea of 
sound made up of the rolling of vehicles, the hum of voices, 
and the clatter of feet, there are the more positively annoying 
and distracting elements, such as German bands, organ- 
grinders, church-bells, railway-whistles, and the like. In 
simpler and more primitive times, and to some extent even 
yet in the country, the normal condition of things is silence, 
and the auditory nerves are only occasionally excited. It is 
scarcely to be expected that such a change can be undergone 
without unpleasant consequences. 
The question has been raised, why should some noises 
interfere with brain- work by day and disturb our rest at night 
so much more than others ? A strange explanation has 
been proposed. We are told that sounds made incidentally 
and unintentionally — such as the rolling of wheels, the 
clatter of machinery (except very close at hand), the sound 
of footsteps, and, in short, all noises not made for the sake 
