find security and comfort in established folkways, whether it be of music or medicine. Fortunately, individuals continued to write of new discoveries and in new idioms, and that which was good was accepted by a few in the same generation and by more in succeeding generations. But each successive step was tedious and it was just as difficult to influence the new generation as it had been the old. With the growth of knowledge came an increase in specialization and men understood less of subjects unrelated to their own. As the rolling mass of education grew, it threw off tangential bodies of information which moved farther apart from each other, and it is only comparatively recently that these diverging lines have begun to approach one another and offer mutual assistance. Music, the art, found the need for acoustics, the science. Industry has come to accept the importance of color and form, and government has been forced to employ mathematics. There was a time when such combinations would have been considered fanciful; now they are indispensable. Music and medicine have had casual contacts through the ages, but neither has cried out to the other for help. Musicians and physicians are independent people, brooking no outside interference. There are those on both sides who would protest their marriage, not so much from a concern over connubial bliss as over the possible offspring and undesirable relatives. Medicine has never refused to try anything that might alleviate suffering or cure disease, but it has and will continue to ignore unfounded claims or secret remedies. To be acceptable, therapeutic measures must be applicable to all who suffer, and the ingredients must be available to all qualified practitioners of medicine. Physicians insist that therapeutic modalities be given under their guidance and reserve for themselves the right to evaluate their results. Very few physicians object to the use of music for and by their patients, but many object to calling that use musical therapy. If the musician is aflame with the desire to make music for patients there is no need for insisting that it be labelled anything but music, providing of course that it is music. Physicians do not discourage acts of kindness or personal attention to their patients. They want them to have clean bedding and fluffed pillows, but insist that such procedures be called nursing care and not therapy, regardless of the amount of joy it brings the patient. There are many uses to which music may be put in medicine and especially in hospitals. When one considers the number and variety of hospitals in this country, it is difficult to imagine a kind of music which can not find a place in at least one of them, but, for reasons which seem more obvious to musicians than physicians, music has been used in the past almost exclusively for patients suffering from mental illness. During the past few decades, hospitals have given