It is an easier task to lay down rules with regard to the use of alcoholic liquors by elderly people. The Collective Investigation Committee of the British Medical Association has lately issued a "Report on the Connection of Disease with Habits of Intemperance," and two at least of the conclusions arrived at are worth quoting: "Habitual indulgence in alcoholic liquors, beyond the most moderate amount, has a distinct tendency to shorten life, the average shortening being roughly proportional to the degree of indulgence. Total abstinence and habitual temperance augment considerably the chance of death from old age or natural decay, without special pathological lesion." Subject, however, to a few exceptions, it is not advisable that a man sixty-five or seventy years of age, who has taken alcohol in moderation all his life, should suddenly become an abstainer. Old age can not readily accommodate itself to changes of any kind, and to many old people a little good wine with their meals is a source of great comfort. To quote again from Ecclesiasticus, "Wine is as good as life to a man, if it be drunk moderately, for it was made to make men glad." Elderly persons, particularly at the close of the day, often find that their nervous energy is exhausted, and require a little stimulant to induce them to take a necessary supply of proper nourishment, and perhaps to aid the digestive powers to convert their food to a useful purpose. In the debility of old age, and especially when sleeplessness is accompanied by slow and imperfect digestion, a small quantity of a generous and potent wine, containing much ether, often does good service. Even a little beer improves digestion in some old people; others find that spirits, largely diluted, fulfill the same purpose. Individual peculiarities must be allowed for; the only general rule is that which prescribes strict moderation. It is not to be inferred from the hints given in the preceding paragraphs that the preservation of health should be the predominant thought in the minds of elderly persons who desire that their lives should be prolonged. To be always guarding against disease, and to live in a state of constant fear and watchfulness, would make existence miserable and hasten the progress of decay. Selfish and undue solicitude with regard to health not only fails to attain its object, but is apt to induce that diseased condition of mind known as hypochondriasis, ["the blues,"] the victims of which are always a burden and a nuisance, if not to themselves, at least to all connected with them. Addison, in the _Spectator_, after describing the valetudinarian who constantly weighed himself and his food, and yet became sick and languishing, aptly remarks, "A continual anxiety for life vitiates all the relishes of it, and casts a gloom over the whole face of nature, as it is impossible that we should take delight in anything that we are every moment afraid of losing."