The mother of one of Mr. Parsons’ pupils had long been regarded as a hopeless sufferer from “nerves.” She lived in a suburban town, not many miles from New York, but her condition was such that it had been months since she visited that city, and usually she remained at home, secluded in a private apartment, of sitting-room and bedroom.

One day, having occasion to call on her, Mr. Parsons was much impressed with the fact that the furniture and decorations of both these rooms were exceedingly faulty from a psychological as well as an æsthetic point of view. The walls of the sitting-room were hung with mirrors, and the room was fairly smothered with bric-a-brac. In both rooms the colouring and design of the wall-paper contrasted harshly with the floor-coverings, while the furniture, though expensive, was gaudy and inharmonious. He talked the situation over with her daughter, and between them they persuaded her to allow them to make radical alterations in the furnishings of her rooms.

They papered the walls with a soft sage-green paper, without design. The woodwork was made lighter, with a shade of green in it. A brass bedstead was installed, the yellow of the brass blending well with the green of the paper and woodwork. The bric-a-brac was unceremoniously bundled out, and, excepting for a few green draperies and some well-chosen pictures, the rooms were left without ornament. Mahogany furniture, of a quiet, dignified style, replaced the gilded chairs and tables previously there.

The effect was to substitute for the former nerve-irritating environment one that gave out a constant stream of restful, soothing, strengthening suggestions; and the therapeutic value of the change was increased by Mr. Parsons wisely insisting that the patient should not leave the refurnished rooms for two weeks. He desired to expose her, at once and systematically, to the full suggestive effect of her new surroundings. At the end of a month, although she had been told that she would be an invalid for life, she felt strong enough to undertake a shopping expedition to New York, and soon was as well as in her earlier days of robust health.

In this case, of course, the cure was effected at a cost beyond the means of most people. It is not everybody who can afford to refurnish and redecorate his living-quarters. But the point is that everybody can so arrange his environment to begin with as to extract from it suggestions that will assist in maintaining his health and happiness, and in promoting the proper upbringing of his children. This is equally within the reach of a dweller in a Fifth Avenue mansion, a Newport palace, a crowded East Side tenement, or a lonely, isolated farm-house, miles from the nearest village. I might cite many illustrative instances to bear out this statement. Here is one, reported by an observant New York physician:

“The refined tastes and joyous dispositions of the elder children in a family with whom I often came into contact were a matter of some surprise to me, as I could not account for the common trait among them by the position or special characteristics of the parents: they were in the humblest position socially, and all but poor. My first visit to their modest home furnished me with the natural solution, and gave me much food for reflection.

“The children—there were six—occupied two rooms into which the sunlight was pouring as I entered; the remaining rooms of the apartment were sunless for the greater part of the day; the colour and design of the cheap wall-paper were cheerful and unobtrusive; bits of carpet, the table-cover, and the coverlets on the beds were all in harmony, and of quiet design in nearly the elementary colours; everything in these poor rooms of poor people had been chosen with the truest judgment for æsthetic effect, and yet the mother seemed surprised that I could make so much of what seemed to her so simple.”

That colours have a profound psychological effect on human beings is a fact which should be appreciated far more generally than is now the case. Used in small quantities, either in the clothing or in household decoration, the colour red, for instance, is most stimulating, both in the way of helping to overcome depression, and quickening the intellectual processes. But when used in any great amount it tends to over-stimulation, with resultant nerve-strain. According to an English savant, Havelock Ellis, who has made a careful study of the psychology of colours, there are some people so constituted that they become violently excited, fall into convulsions, or faint, if obliged even for a short time to look at anything vividly red.

The same effect has been noted from yellow. In one instance, the case of a man operated on at the age of thirty for congenital cataract, it is recorded that “the first time he saw yellow, he became so sick that he thought he would vomit.” And that yellow has a nerve-stimulating effect fully comparable with that of red is curiously indicated by the statement of a friend of mine, a professor in a Western university, who says:

“Whenever the day is overcast, or I have to do a piece of work calling for unusual mental exertion, I always wear a red or yellow necktie. I find that either colour has a stimulating effect on my mental processes.”