OF

Literary _and_ Sedentary Persons.

When I consider with myself how many and how great men have formerly

ascended this chair, with how general an applause they apply’d to the

education of youth, and how every branch of erudition has been cultivated

to such advantage by the present set of teachers, into whose learned

order I am this day admitted by the great favour and indulgence of our

senate; whilst I at the same time reflect how much this new situation

differs from my former manner of living, in which as I had willingly

pass’d a considerable part of my life, I had determin’d to continue to

my old age; when I reflect upon all these circumstances, a tremor seizes

my limbs, and my voice falters. But because from the very foundation of

this respectable academy, custom, which governs all things, and your

expectation requires it of me, embolden’d by your kindness, I will make

trial of my abilities.

Being a new member, and ascending a new chair, I propos’d to speak of the

connexion between physic and other academical studies, and it was my

design to explain what it borrows from them, and what it contributes to

them in its turn.

It would be a pleasure to me, reverend pastors of the church, and

illustrious professors of divinity, to declare aloud how much physick

is indebted to religion; I would gladly vindicate the principles of

physicians from the imputations of ancient calumny, and prove that

religion is strongly supported by a science, which, being totally

conversant in the contemplation of an admirable creature, demonstrates

from the wonderful mechanism of a man in health, and the surprising cures

of the sick, the existence and great wisdom of the Supreme Artificer, and

that even to the most obstinate. Do men forget the Deity? Physicians

stand forth, and theology is entirely reviv’d; for who have spoken more

truth, or in a sublimer stile concerning God, than they? There would be

no end, were I to cite them all; but I must not pass over in silence

HIPPOCRATES, the first who ever asserted that fate produc’d nothing, but

that all those events, which we call fortuitous, are regulated by the

will of God: the next to him is GALEN, who diffusively proves, that the

existence of God is demonstrated by the position of the thumb alone;

and calls his treatise concerning the use of the parts, a monument to

the glory of the Deity: to him must be added POLYCHRESTUS, to whom the

illustrious sir-name of _Lover of God_ was given, on account of his

great piety: BOYLE, who wrote excellent works himself, and founded an

admirable institution for the promotion of religion, which he nobly

endow’d; his friend SYDENHAM; the immortal LOCK; HOFFMAN, who carried

his piety so far, that he was not entirely free from superstition; the

admirable TRALLES; and my dear and worthy friend HALLER, who in an

excellent treatise has asserted the utility of religion in a manly stile,

as usual, and exerts himself to the utmost to promote its cause.

Physicians indeed laugh at the idle tales of old women, at the

extravagancies of the vulgar, and thereby incur the censure of weak and

superstitious people; they deride the inventions of imagination; and

whilst every divine lays down his own opinion as the rule of truth,

physicians make a jest of the phantoms which these set up for religion,

and refuse to embrace a cloud for a Juno: thence all these clamours,

these accusations, these reproaches, and these calumnies. But if some of

our society have in fact been led astray by error, which I am sorry to

say cannot be denied, the severe censure of their colleagues has soon

convinced the public how much they disapprov’d of their principles.

It would be a pleasure to me, most learned professor of morality, whom to

address by the tender name of father-in-law is my greatest happiness; it

would be a pleasure to me, I say, to treat to the best of my abilities of

the connexion between the knowledge of morals and of health; how near the

relation is between them, how exact the concatenation in every respect.

This is certainly both an agreeable and useful undertaking: nor is it

altogether new; for HIPPOCRATES has in his whole treatise concerning

diet, done his utmost to prove that souls are the same in all men, and

that the various degrees of wisdom and folly proceed from the different

temperament of their bodies; and GALEN, who has admirably demonstrated

the power of the body over the mind and the motions of the will, desired

the teachers of philosophy, sixteen ages ago, to send all persons of bad

morals to him to be cur’d[1].

Should I be ever so full, most learned professor of jurisprudence, I

could not entirely display the connexion between us; for whether a

legislator regulates a commonwealth, or whether a judge upon the bench

weighs questions of civil law, or criminal and ecclesiastical causes, in

the ballance of Themis, there occur cases, and those not a few, in which

he cannot do without the assistance of our art.

It would be necessary to lay open the greatest part of natural knowledge,

most profound professor of philosophy, were I to treat of all that it has

in common with physick; for you well know that both the cure of diseases,

and the contemplation of the nature of things, had their beginnings from

the same authors. We are therefore inform’d that many of the professors

of natural philosophy were well skilled in physick, and that the most

illustrious of these were PYTHAGORAS, EMPEDOCLES, and DEMOCRITUS.

HIPPOCRATES was the first who separated these studies; but he did not

separate them in such a manner as to pull them asunder entirely, but so

as to split that comprehensive science into several more minute members,

that many might cultivate divided, what one could not learn entire; but

that neither should desert what nature made inseparable.

That part of this science, which considers body merely as body, has

retain’d the name of natural philosophy: others went by various names,

according to the different sorts of bodies of which they treated. The

human body is the object of physick, which without natural philosophy is

lame; for he is but a dunce in the art of healing, who is not acquainted

with the forces of bodies, and the laws of motion: nor do professors of

physick care to undertake the education of those, who are ignorant of

natural philosophy. But if physick is greatly indebted to this science,

it can in some respects return the favour, and physicians have return’d

it in many instances: for GILBERT, who first satisfactorily explain’d

the phænomena of electricity, was a physician, as was likewise BOYLE,

who promoted natural knowledge more than any other philosopher; and

BOERHAAVE, whose experiments upon the elements have given a new face to

this science; and to pass over many others in silence, the illustrious

MUSCHEMBROEK, who is universally allow’d to surpass all others in this

article.

And there is some connexion, though perhaps not so close, between your

studies and physick, illustrious professors of history and languages;

for what physician would not be asham’d to be ignorant of history and

the humanities? Who would not be desirous of consulting the Arabian

physicians in the originals, as none of them has hitherto been faithfully

translated? Are there not likewise certain parts of history, which

physick alone can throw proper lights upon? Is not CELSUS a physician,

whose works all that are desirous of speaking Latin in perfection, study

night and day? PLINY, in whom we meet not merely with helps for acquiring

the Latin language, but with the purest Latinity, though he did not

practise physic, understood it perfectly, and is entirely taken up in

explaining it. ARETEUS, whom we respect as a master of the healing art,

is conspicuous for the elegance of his Greek. GALEN has an eloquence

peculiar to himself. So has ALEXANDER. And those who cultivate the Arabic

language, boast that it is no where to be found in greater purity than in

the writings of physicians.

It appear’d to me at first sight, that on so copious a subject it would

be easy to make an oration; but upon maturer deliberation I began to

think quite otherwise; and so, having laid down a burthen too heavy

for my shoulders, and left it to more sublime geniuses, I kept to my

practice, _my labour is here engaged, and not my eloquence_; and, having

resigned the hopes of declaiming like an able orator, or soothing your

ears with the allurement of words, I have chosen this subject, as capable

of pleasing you by its own force; and as it is sufficient barely to lay

it before you, it requires no ornaments:

_De tauris dicit arator, navita de ventis._

_Quod medicorum est promittunt medici._

_The plowman talks of oxen, the sailor of the wind._

_Physicians offer what belongs to their profession._

And addressing myself to learned men as a physician, I shall treat of the

health of studious men; and here again I must request your indulgence:

_Dira per incautum serpunt contagia vulgus._

_A dire contagion through the vulgar spreads._

But whilst I was hurried about to attend a crowd of patients, I had

no leisure to polish my work; therefore I have without method thrown

together my thoughts and observations on this useful topic.

It is an old complaint, that study, though essentially necessary to the

mind, is hurtful to the body; and CELSUS has intimated the necessity

of a remedy. Those that are of weak constitutions, says he, as most

studious men are, should take greater care than others, that what is

impaired by application to their studies may be repair’d by attention to

their constitutions. And PLUTARCH, an admirable judge of what is right

and becoming, declares it to be a shame, that the learned should spend

days and nights in useless investigations, and at the same time neglect

the art of preserving their health; being, doubtless, ignorant that the

healing science was formerly look’d upon as a part of wisdom, and that

those chiefly requir’d medical assistance, who have impair’d their bodily

strength by anxious thought and watchfulness.

There are two principal sources, from whence all the sufferings of the

studious flow; the constant exercise and application of the mind, and the

continual rest of the body; for they are as indolent in body, as they

are busy and active in mind. By enumerating the ills, that arise from

both causes, a dreadful crop of diseases will be display’d.

Let metaphysicians bewilder themselves in inquiries, how the mind

governs the body, and is govern’d by the latter in its turn; physicians,

descending to considerations of less importance, but of greater

certainty, perhaps, and little sollicitous about the causes of this

mutual government, and but confining their inquiries to phænomena, know

by experience, that certain emotions of the mind necessarily arise from

certain conditions of the body, and that by particular emotions in the

mind particular changes are unavoidably produc’d in the body, and that

whilst the mind thinks, some part of the brain is stretch’d. We make no

other inquiry; it would be of no use to know any thing farther.

So close is the connexion between mind and body, that we cannot well

conceive the operations of the one independent of some correspondence

with the other. For as the senses are incapable of conveying the

materials of thought to the soul, without the motion both of their

own fibres and those of the brain, so, whilst the mind revolves these

cogitations, the organs of the brain are more or less stimulated to

act, stretch’d, and have oscillatory motions excited in them. The mind

agitates the machine; and these are the labours of the medullary part,

which, being so tender, does not suffer the less by these motions;

and every man easily feels that in himself, which the strongest arms

experience after the most violent exercise.

For which of you, that has been addicted to a studious life, has not

often found, after intense thought, that the innermost part of the brain

has been affected by a troublesome heat, and intense pain, such as the

muscles feel when fatigu’d with long labour? Nor does the medullary part

of the brain suffer alone, but the very eyes themselves can perceive the

force of the thinking soul, extended beyond the brain: for whilst we look

upon a man that meditates seriously, all the muscles of his face appear

stretched, nay sometimes convuls’d. Nor does the brain, the medulla of

which is the source of the nerves, suffer alone, but they themselves

are hurt; and PLATO has admirably shewn, in the masculine style in which

he so greatly excell’d, how much the exercise of the mind prejudices the

body. “Quando anima, inquit, corpore admodum potentior est, exultatque

in eo atque effertur, totum ipsum intrinsecus quatiens languoribus

implet. Quando etiam ad dicendum, investigandumque, collectis in unum

viribus, vehementer incumbit, liquefacit prorsus corpus, & labefactat;

denique cum ad dicendum, differendumque privatim & publice ambitiosa

quadam concertatione contendit, inflammat corpus atque resolvit. Tam

arcta enim lege consortii, sic RAMAZZINI, fœderantur anima & corpus

ut omnia tam bona quam mala unius in alterum vicissim corrivent, ac

veluti, ex corporis nimia exercitatione, anima ad mentis functiones

languescit, ac torpet, sic ob nimiam animæ contentionem, circa sapientiæ

studium, corpus marcescat necesse est, absumptis nempe spiritibus,

communi scilicet instrumento ad materiales & spirituales operationes

rite obeundas.” “As the mind, says he, is far more powerful than the

body, and exults and is elate therein, it affects it inwardly, and fills

it entirely with languor; and when, by gathering together its strength,

it applies earnestly to learning and to the investigating of things, it

quite dissolves and unhinges the body: finally, when with an ambitious

emulation it exerts itself to speak and harangue both in private and

public, it inflames the body and relaxes it. For, as RAMAZZINI observes,

the soul and body are united by so firm a league, that all the advantages

and disadvantages of the one must affect the other; and as the soul is

rendered languid in the mental functions, and become stupified in the

same manner by the too great application of the mind to the study of

wisdom, the body must unavoidably pine away, the animal spirits being

consum’d, which are the only instruments of rightly performing both

material and spiritual operations[2].” These are indeed observations

highly just. For he who is not ignorant what a multitude of nerves there

are in the animal system, who is sensible that there is no function that

can be performed without them, will easily apprehend that by the fatigue

of the medulla a languor may be brought upon all the nerves, so that the

several functions may be weakened, and the strength of the body may,

without its being exercised, be totally exhausted.

It is universally known that there are books compos’d without any

strength of genius, which appear quite insipid and unaffecting to

the reader, and only tire the eyes; but those that are compos’d with

an exquisite force of ideas, and with an exact connexion of thought,

elevate the soul, and fatigue it with the very pleasure, which, the more

compleat, lasting, and frequent it is, breaks the man the more[3].

MALEBRANCHE was seized with dreadful palpitations in reading DESCARTES’S

Man; and there is still living at Paris a professor of rhetoric, who

fainted away whilst he was perusing some of the sublime passages of

HOMER[4].

The head itself, and the nerves, and the stomach which is fuller of

nerves than any other part, first suffer for the errors of the mind.

An eminent person, who had impair’d his health by too intense an

application to study, was immediately seiz’d by a terrible vertigo,

if he happen’d to listen attentively to a person telling a story. He

likewise complained, that nothing could give him greater uneasiness than

his attempting to recall the memory of any thing, for then he was put

to the greatest pain imaginable, and sometimes seiz’d with a fainting

fit, attended with a sense of extreme lassitude. Nor could he desist

from his effort after he had once begun it, though he labour’d ever so

much for that purpose; but was under a necessity of proceeding as he had

begun, till he fainted away[5]. The illustrious VIRIDET, formerly my

fellow-citizen, knew a woman who, whenever she us’d any application of

mind, was seiz’d with a severe fit of the colic[6]. And a late author

speaks of a man who never either thought intensely, or experienc’d any

lively sensation, or was put in a passion, but his whole arm immediately

swell’d up[7]. Both of which cases may be explained by the defect of the

nerves alone, and the action of the mind upon the nerves.

Daily observation proves the force of the mind’s action upon the stomach;

and this every man has an opportunity of experiencing in himself; for

the more intensely any man thinks, and the more strongly he exerts the

reflecting powers of his mind, the more slowly and with the greater

difficulty, _cæteris paribus_, does he digest what he eats; and, on the

other hand, the freer a man’s mind is from reflexion, the more readily

and the better he digests. It is observable that fools always eat and

drink a great deal, and yet digest perfectly well, even though they

lead a sedentary life, and do not surpass others either in the bulk or

strength of their bodies: whilst men of genius and abilities, though

they have strong muscles, and take exercise sufficient, are obnoxious

to crudities in the stomach and slowness of concoction [8]. BOERHAAVE,

who resided a long time in a city renown’d for learning, has observ’d

that studies excite a disagreeable sensation at the upper orifice of

the stomach; and that, if this be neglected by the studious, madness

ensues[9]. My illustrious friend POME knew a man of learning, who had

made his stomach so infirm by intense application, that immediately after

eating he vomited[10]. I myself have seen some, who, when their minds

were wearied out with constant study, being taken ill, at first lost all

appetite, then were seiz’d with a weakness of their whole bodies, and at

last with dreadful paroxysms, which began with vomiting, and ended in

convulsions and a total privation of their senses.

Soon, by an unavoidable fatality, the disorder that had affected the body

recoils upon the mind; for the Author of nature has ordain’d that most of

the operations of the latter should stand in need of the assistance of

the former; which has given occasion to the following just observation of

PLINY the younger[11], and long before him it was observed by DEMOCRITUS,

that the mind is supported by what supports the body. “Augescit mens

cum adest sanitas, adeoque huic ut prospiciant, qui recte sentiant

consentaneum est: ubi vero corporis habitus dolet nec mens ad virtutis

meditationem est alacris.” “The mind acquires new vigour whilst the body

is in health; therefore all those who think justly will take care of the

latter: but, when the body is in a painful state, the mind is less alert

in the meditation of virtue[12].” Should it then seem surprising, if,

when the tenor of the brain and nerves is broken by the efforts of the

mind, the latter should decline in its turn? First of all it is depriv’d

of its fortitude; distrust, terror, and melancholy, seize upon it; and

he who would have stood undaunted amidst a falling world a few months

before, is every moment fill’d with terror and consternation, as soon as

his nerves are affected by a hypochondriac disorder. Relentless tyrants

may have condemn’d to death philosophers whom they hated; but it never

was in their power to subject them to the dread of death, which they had

long shaken off. O how much more cruel would they have been, if they had

granted them their lives, and had it in their power to torment their

minds with hypochondriacal terrors!

Thus render’d unequal to the task of study, the learned are at last under

a necessity of quitting their belov’d pursuits; for, as the strength of

their nerves diminishes, their attention fails, the memory begins to lose

its tenaciousness, the ideas are obscur’d, and an uneasy sensation of

heat over the whole head, a dreadful palpitation, the most extraordinary

weakness, and a groundless fear of approaching death, oblige them to

discontinue their application. Their strength being at last repair’d

by rest, nourishing aliments, and exercise, they renew their assiduity

in study, but are soon oblig’d to quit their books as before. Thus the

whole day is lost; and when evening approaches and they retire to bed,

their weakness and anxiety make them pass their nights most dismally,

whilst the great mobility of their nerves prevents their sleeping, and

sometimes increases to such a degree as totally to deprive them of the

power of thinking. I know a young man, upon whom an intense application

to study had this extraordinary effect, that, if he read even a few

pages, he was torn with convulsions of the muscles of the head and face,

which assum’d the appearance of ropes stretch’d very tight.

Nor does too intense an application produce only slight and transient

convulsions of the muscles; it likewise renews and generates the most

dreadful nervous disorders. GALEN[13] mentions a grammarian, who was

seized with a fit of the epilepsy, whenever he meditated profoundly,

or taught with vehemence. I myself have seen instances of it. And the

illustrious VAN SWIETEN laments the case of youths of the brightest

hopes, who have been seiz’d with a dreadful and incurable epilepsy, upon

being compell’d by severe masters to apply to their studies with scarce

any intervals of relaxation. HOFFMAN[14] makes mention of a young man,

who, as often as he weary’d out his memory and his genius by attentive

study, was seiz’d with a momentary epilepsy, a palpitation of the heart,

and a trance; but when he remitted of his assiduity, was always tolerably

well. This the celebrated PETRARCH likewise unhappily experienc’d, being

seiz’d with an epilepsy through his great application to study, to

which he was immoderately attach’d. In a public promotion, one of the

candidates for literary honour, after having pursu’d his studies with

the moil arduous application both day and night, through a too great

attention to his oration, that he might be able to say it accurately by

heart, was suddenly seiz’d with a catalepsy and fell down[15].

The labour of the mind not only produces nervous disorders, but,

by means of the nerves, gives rise to other complaints. An eminent

mathematician, who was troubled with an hereditary gout, and had always

liv’d soberly and chastely, hasten’d a paroxysm by applying a long

time to the solution of a difficult problem[16]. And the case of the

chevalier DE PERNAY is very extraordinary. After four months of the

closest study imaginable, and without any previous disorder, his beard

fell first, then his eye-lashes, then his eye-brows, then the hair of

his head, and finally all the hairs of his body[17]. Did this proceed

from the great relaxation of the roots, from which the hairs grow; or

from the want of nutrition? Certain it is, that an intense application

of mind relaxes the whole corporeal frame, and prevents all nutrition

for two reasons; for this is the effect of thought, not upon all, but

upon most constitutions, that it accelerates the pulse, and produces a

fever, which, by dissolving the nourishing jelly of the fluids, occasions

paleness, leanness, consumption, and a sort of wasting of the nerves; on

the other hand, the cessation of the action of the nerves, is capable

of producing it. Nor does it less cease in the whole body, whilst it is

obstructed by application of mind, than when it is stopped by a swelling

or a ligature in any part. We should not be too inquisitive in prying

into causes; and many circumstances relating to nervous disorders will

for ever remain unknown: but if any one should be curious to know how the

too great tension of the nerves is hurtful, I will briefly give him my

sense of the matter. The body is exhausted by too great an evacuation;

hence arises weakness, an extraordinary tenuity of the humours, and, what

it is generally productive of, a diseased mobility. Suppose the blood

were to run copiously from a wound, or the gastric fluids were to be

pour’d forth by the anus, or the breasts suck’d too long, or a greater

discharge of saliva made by spitting, or the wretched body were to be

troubled with a long diabetes, or in short, any other evacuations were

too much increased, the strength would decline, and the health be lost;

but whilst the nerves act, their fluid runs out of the body, and carries

off the strength with it; nor is there any thing in the body either more

labour’d, more necessary in many animal functions, or more intimately

connected with strength. In studious men, therefore, a perpetual

dissipation of the nervous fluid springs from the incessant action of

the nerves, attended with weakness, and an extraordinary mobility, from

whence all the above-mention’d diseases easily take rise; these are very

dreadful, but diseases still more dreadful remain to be describ’d.

It is not easy for the mind not to throw out at will such motions as it

has powerfully conceiv’d; and this is a second cause of the diseases of

studious men, from whence spring so many errors and wanderings of the

mind, to be chang’d for death only, so many phrenzies and deliriums:

for whilst ideas no longer answer to their external objects, but to the

internal disposition of the brain, the latter being agitated by its own

motion, either entirely, or in part, is unable to receive new vibrations,

to be transmitted, all, or some, by the senses; whereas those that are

spontaneous cannot be check’d.

The brain of BLAISE PASCHAL was so vitiated by passing his life in the

laborious exercises of study, thought, and imagination, that certain

fibres, agitated by incessant motion, made him perpetually feel a

sensation, which seem’d to be excited by a globe of fire being plac’d on

one side of him; and his reason being overpower’d by the disorder of his

nerves, he could scarce banish the idea of the fiery globe being actually

present. SPINELLO painted the devils thrown from Heaven by the Almighty,

and gave so fierce a countenance to Lucifer, that he was struck with

horror himself; and during the remainder of his life, his imagination

was continually haunted with the figure of that demon, upbraiding him

with having made so shocking a portrait of him. There are many others,

whom the force of genius too much rous’d, has for ever hurried beyond

the boundaries of truth. GASPAR BARLÆUS, who was at once an orator, a

poet, and a physician, was not ignorant of this danger, concerning which

he admonish’d his friend CONSTANTIUS HUYGENS[18]; but being blind with

regard to himself, he by immoderate studies so broke the force of his

sensorium, that he thought his body was made of butter, and carefully

shun’d the fire, lest it should melt him, till being at last tir’d of

his excruciating fears, he leapt into a well. I must still grieve for

a friend of a penetrating genius, an excellent understanding, of strict

morals, and one that seem’d born for a better fate; who being animated

with too great a love of learning, and in particular of the medical

science, by reading night and day, observing, making experiments, and

meditating, at first became sleepless; then began to talk, sometimes

incoherently, and sometimes rationally; at last run mad, and having

scarcely escap’d with life, never recover’d his reason. I have known many

others, who by study alone were first rendered phrantic, or crazy, and

at length became idiots. I love, esteem, and honour an illustrious man,

and a man of extraordinary abilities, who being twelve hours intent upon

settling a difficult memorial, after having finish’d his work, became

delirious till a soft sleep quieted the state of his nerves. Observers

give us accounts of many similar cases, and I was inform’d by a witness

who may be confided in, that PETER JURIEU was formerly famous for his

talent at disputing, by his labours in writing books of controversy,

and expounding the apocalypse, so disorder’d his brain, that though he

thought like a man of sense in other respects, he was firmly persuaded

that the seven fits of the cholic, with which he was tormented, had been

occasion’d by a constant fight between seven horsemen that were shut up

in his bowels. There have been many instances of persons, who thought

themselves metamorphos’d into lanterns, and who complain’d of having lost

their thighs.

But those are affected in the most dangerous manner, who dwell too long

upon one and the same thought; for thus one part of the sensorium being

longer stretch’d than the rest, without being ever reliev’d by the others

in their turn, is the sooner broke; for as the body suffers more if one

or but a few muscles alone act, so the brain is the less fatigued when

various parts act successively; the part which discontinues recovers its

strength, whilst the others are at work; and that is durable which does

not want alternate rest.

Many years ago I knew a woman, who appear’d to have very good sense

for five and twenty years; but having, unhappily for her, embrac’d the

sect of the Herrenhutters, she became entirely inflam’d by the love of

our blessed Saviour, and of him alone; and she dwelling entirely upon

this idea both day and night, it so broke the tone of her brain, that

in a few months time she became an idiot; but still she was so mindful

of her Lamb, that visiting her every day for half a year together, and

frequently addressing my discourse to her, I could never hear any other

words from her than _my sweet Lamb_; and this she utter’d every half

hour, with downcast eyes, and was the only word she spoke for a year and

a half; which time being elapsed, she pin’d away and died. And to pass

by other examples, there was not long ago in this academy, a young man

of bright hopes, who being too earnestly solicitous about squaring the

circle, died mad in the Paris hospital.

The third cause of the disorders of the brain, is, that law to which the

human machine is subjected; that a new quantity of blood should be added

to the part that acts. The illustrious MORGAGNI knew a man of learning

at Boulogne, who whenever he gave his mind to abstract meditations in

the morning, before he rose, was sure to bleed at the nose for a short

time after[19]. Therefore as often as the brain increases its action, it

is moisten’d with an additional quantity of blood, which, giving a new

tension and a quicker motion to the vessels, brings on both the sense

of pain and heat already mentioned, and many more grievous symptoms;

namely, according to the different state of the brain, of the blood, and

external objects, it occasions dilatations of the veins and arteries,

obstructions of the nerves, inflammations, suppurations, scirrhous

tumours, ulcers, dropsies, and thence head-achs, deliriums, drowsiness,

convulsions, lethargy, apoplexy, and continual obstinate watchings, which

cruelly torment the studious, and afflict them with new diseases; for

what diseases, what perturbations of the mind do not protracted watchings

give rise to? The great BOERHAAVE was six weeks without sleep, after

profound study and meditation; and at the same time so indifferent to

every thing, that scarce any object whatever affected him[20]. And which

of you, learned auditors, has not found by experience, that a slight and

disturb’d sleep, a sleep that scarce gives refreshment, generally follows

a day pass’d in study. A slight irritation of the brain causes want of

sleep; from one more considerable arise convulsions and drowsiness; from

the greatest of all a mortal apoplexy, which disorder often puts an end

to the lives of learned men. The reason is, that that part suffers which

was guilty of the excess, and whilst the strength of the brain is relax’d

by study, and fresh blood is forc’d into it, it must sooner or later be

quite overwhelm’d, especially at the time that some new cause adds force

to the blood that impells it; thence it has frequently come to pass, that

learned divines in preaching, and learned professors in delivering their

lectures, or disputing, as was the case with the celebrated CURTIUS

at Leipsick, expir’d on their very chairs; and LIVY the historian has

preserv’d to us the history of king ATTALUS, who died in the assembly at

Thebes, whilst he was animating the Bœotians by an harangue to enter into

an alliance with the Romans.

I saw a reverend pastor, who on Whitsun-sunday, after having preach’d

long and with vehemence, whilst he was distributing the host to the

people, was first seiz’d with trembling, then stammer’d, then was

delirious, then fell down in an apoplectic fit, and continuing delirious

ever after, though in an advanc’d age, liv’d for some months in a state

of infancy. The celebrated MORGAGNI likewise mentions a preaching monk,

who was seiz’d with a violent apoplexy before his congregation, and

quickly died; his vehemence of delivery conspiring with a plethora to

destroy him[21]. A professor at Berne, deeply versed in the oriental

languages, a man in the prime of life, but of indefatigable industry, not

long since sunk into a second infancy, and a state of idiotism, his brain

being overflow’d by water, which stagnated in it[22].

We must not forget, in enumerating the injuries suffered by the brain

from this overflowing of the blood, that the disorder of the nerves

which causes the hypochondriac disposition, is increased; their little

tubes being dilated are constantly weaken’d, grow soft, and make less

resistance to impressions, which is one of the chief causes of the

hypochondriac disorder.

Nor do the sufferings of studious men end here, since from another

law, which holds equally in the animal œconomy, a fourth cause of the

disorders of the learned springs from an over violent labour of the mind;

for the animal fibre is indurated by being used, the whole machine grows

callous as it grows old; the parts that are exercised by labour become

hardened in workmen; the brain of studious men contracts a callosity,

so that becoming unequal to the task of forming ideas, they fall into a

premature dotage: thus the too great softness of an infant’s brain, and

the too great hardness of a brain occasioned by study, are equally ill

adapted to produce those vibrations, without which the force of thought

is lost. Let the fibre be moisten’d with water, or stiffened with lime

and sand, it in both cases becomes equally incapable of performing its

function. At first the memory is impair’d, as GALEN justly observes, and

then reason itself is disturb’d[23].

Nor is there any necessity that the mind should meditate great and

sublime objects, to impair the strength of the nervous system; a too

protracted use of the eyes has often given rise to innumerable nervous

disorders; concerning which, the testimony of GUNZIUS is of the utmost

authority[24]. And every weak man must know by experience, how much too

great a use of the eyes weakens the head. Of this I have already given an

example, and have often found it by experience; for when I contemplate

any object a considerable time, after the fit of a fever, or any other

disorder, and before my health is quite recovered, I am seiz’d with a

vertigo, a sickness in the stomach, and a disagreeable listlessness of

the whole body.

In order to vindicate literature from the charge brought against it, you

will doubtless object, that many men of profound learning, have liv’d to

the most advanc’d age, and retain’d their powers both of mind and body

unimpair’d to the last. I have heard of many, I have myself seen more;

nor can either you or I ever forget that truly illustrious man, that man

of universal learning, who as he was worthy of it, enjoy’d general love

and veneration; who was the ornament, honour, and delight of this academy

for above fifty years, and whom we all with equal wonder and satisfaction

saw enter upon his 90th year, without either his reason, or his senses

being in the least impair’d. But all are not equally happy, and there are

few men endued with such strength, both of mind and body, as to undergo

such labours with impunity, if even those can be said to undergo them

with impunity, who attain to that stage of life, which they perhaps would

have greatly exceeded, had they liv’d in a different manner. Some men

are by nature insatiable in drinking wine, others are born cormorants of

books, and never glutted with the acquisition of learning: nor should

it be pass’d over in silence, that almost all the learned men, who are

look’d upon as its masters by the human species, all liv’d to a great

age; as HOMER, DEMOCRITUS, PARMENIDES, HIPPOCRATES, PLATO, PLUTARCH,

Lord BACON, GALILÆO, HARVEY, WALLIS, BOYLE, LOCKE, LEIBNITZ, NEWTON,

BOERHAAVE. Can it then justly be inferred, that violent exercises of

the mind are not hurtful? Take care how you draw so false a conclusion?

But, as I said awhile ago, some men are born with happy constitutions

for meditation, and perhaps that excellent constitution of the fibres,

productive of longevity, is the same that produces great geniuses;

_Mens sana in corpore sano_,

_A sound mind in a healthy body_;

and consequently the great men, whom I have just mention’d, owed their

reputation more to their extraordinary genius, than to industry and

application; and prevented the ill effects of their severer studies, by

allowing themselves intervals of leisure, by taking proper exercise, and

by the dissipation both of business and amusement. Nor did they lead

the life of abstracted students, a species of men little known to the

ancients, and who took their rise first at the declension of literature,

were renew’d at its revival, and may be properly compar’d to the Indian

fakirs; for both bid farewell to the human race, and both of their

own accord, and generally without any emolument to society, emaciate

and inflict austerities upon themselves; the former by the sun, by

cold, by nails, by chains, by whips; the latter by books, manuscripts,

coins, monuments, and almost all by inaction, and the want of bodily

exercise. This is another, and a most prolific source of the disorders

which afflict men addicted to study; for the human machine was form’d

and intended for action by the supreme artificer: therefore health is

inseparable from action, which will be easily conceiv’d by whoever

examines the human body with attention.

It consists of containing and moving vessels, contained and moved fluids:

if the fibres or vessels have a proper tone, if the fluids have a

proper consistence, if the motions, by which they should be continually

agitated, are neither too violent, nor deficient, we enjoy a good state

of health. But it should be taken into consideration, that motion is

here the chief agent, for, that alone being chang’d, the whole state

of the solids and fluids is chang’d likewise: if it be increased, the

solids grow harder, and the fluids are compress’d; if it be diminished,

the fibre becomes relaxed, the density of the blood is lessened, for

the whole body is form’d of a chyle, which is softer and lighter than

any part of the body, either solid or fluid, whose small particles a

continual motion unites and strongly compresses; and if this motion

should fail, the parts must prove deficient in their due firmness.

But the heart is the source of all the motions in the animal machine, the

principle which puts the whole mass of fluids in motion, but is not alone

sufficient for that purpose; wherefore nature has given it many helps,

which never discontinue or remit, but the circulation becomes slower,

and diseases arise from the motion of the fluids being retarded. The

chief of these helps is the muscular motion, whose extraordinary force in

quickening the circulation, the most ignorant surgeon every day displays

to the eyes of all spectators, by an easy experiment, when upon opening a

vein he bids the patient move some cylindrical instrument round about in

his hand, in order to accelerate the emission of the blood: nay, every

man may easily perceive in himself, how much the quickness of the pulse

is increased by the motion of the body; and these are the effects of

motion, it sharpens the appetite, it strengthens the fibres, keeps up a

due temperature of the fluids, promotes all the excretions, fortifies the

mind, and gives a pleasing sensation to the whole nervous system; whereas

by too great sloth, the muscular strength is first destroy’d for want of

practice; and from a neglect of exercise there springs an impotence of

motion: the circulation which is carried on only by the strength of the

heart and the vessels, and destitute of external helps, first languishes

in the most minute vessels, and then in every part of the body; the heat

decreases, the humours stagnate, and contract a vitious disposition; for

some of them lose part of their density, others part of their tenuity,

and they all become glutinous, and of consequence unfit for secretions;

therefore what should be secreted is retain’d, the body is loaded with

a mass of adventitious humours, it is destroy’d by their acrimony, the

vigour of life is benumb’d, the strength declines, the blood is dissolved

to water; hence arises a dropsy, a disorder in a manner epidemical to men

of learning, by which the brain is often affected. An instance of this I

lately saw, with concern, in an eminent man, whose case I discover’d too

late, and who not by literary pursuits, but other exercises of the mind,

and total inaction of body, had broke a constitution which once was

robust[25].

Those parts suffer the most, which having but weak solids, they want

external helps more than any others; hence those organs are most affected

by inaction, which, being contained in the abdomen, perform the first

digestion of the aliments: the strength of the stomach is diminish’d, the

nature of the gastric fluid is chang’d, the aliments make a longer stay

in it, and, not being sufficiently subdu’d by the animal force, they go

through their spontaneous changes which they would have undergone out of

the body. Most vegetables retain their tartness, which, by vellicating

the nerves, occasions pains and convulsions; acid eructations arise, the

cardia suffers pain, the throat is parched, and the teeth blunted. On

the contrary, both flesh and eggs rot, and fat aliments grow rank: hence

proceed putrid eructations, immoderate thirst, and continual fluxes;

digestion is always difficult, troublesome, and malignant; the aliments

cease to afford nourishment, nor do they any longer repair, but irritate

and weaken.

The exhaling vessels no longer pour forth a dewy, mild, and saponaceous

lymph, but they throw out a thick glue, which affects the sick with a

constant pain and sense of a heavy weight, and of cold at the stomach,

and creates the utmost loathing. The consequence is the same when the

intestines, being of the same structure with the stomach, suffer the

same injuries: the action of respiration first begins to fail, whose

alternate compressions, whilst it is accelerated by the muscular motion,

compress and strain all the viscera of the abdomen; their irritability is

lost, the body is generally costive; there is here likewise accumulated,

a troublesome phlegm, the prolific mother of diseases. Thus it once

happen’d to the celebrated JUSTUS LIPSIUS, professor of history at

Leyden, who being long ill, and under the care of his illustrious

colleague and friend HEURNIUS, found no relief till he had voided a

substance resembling the intestines both in figure and colour; it was a

tough and viscid phlegm, gradually collected in the whole tube of the

intestines, through a sedentary life wasted by study; and this phlegm,

turning to putrefaction, made a jakes of the whole body. The fomes of the

disease being thus purg’d off, he was restor’d to health[26].

The collected excrements compress with their bulk the neighbouring

parts, irritate the intestines by their corruption, and by absorbing the

putrid matter infect the whole mass of blood. From all these causes put

together arise those excruciating pains in the bowels which often torment

the studious, and are with difficulty cur’d, as they are perpetually

renew’d by errors in diet[27]. Hence that troublesome flatulency, so

hurtful to sedentary men, which torments the learned a thousand different

ways, and often passes for other disorders.

The intestines are not only affected, but the functions of the

neighbouring parts are disturb’d, as well from the violence of the

compression as from their own diseases; the pancreatic juice grows vapid

and stale, the functions of the spleen are vitiated, the repositories of

the bile are much disturb’d; by its stagnation it loads the liver, forms

obstructions in it, thickens and grows hard itself, and flows slowly to

the intestines; whence their disorders, especially those of the jejunum,

and vices of the chyle, increase; being scarce able to pass through the

narrow neck of the cystic duct, it often concretes into a stone, and

occasions those severe colics with which the celebrated IGNATIUS, founder

of the Jesuits, was formerly afflicted, and with which the learned are

often tormented[28]. If at length by stagnating it putrifies, it then

erodes, ulcerates, inflames, and assumes the appearance of all the

innumerable disorders of the liver, and produces inconceivable anxieties.

These are likewise caus’d, though with less danger, by that cruel

disease call’d the hypochondriac; the first species of which, mention’d

above, and call’d the nervous, is occasion’d by excessive labour of the

mind; the other, I mean the abdominal species, arises from a disturb’d

circulation in the abdomen. With both these disorders the learned are

afflicted, and therefore seldom or never live free from this evil; and,

whilst one of these adds force to another, they are seldom entirely cur’d

of them[29].

Considering they occur so frequently, it is hardly necessary to give

examples; but if I were to cite examples, the first that would occur

to my mind would be that of the illustrious SWAMMERDAM, that sagacious

inquirer into nature, who was so full of atrabilary humours, that he

scarce vouchsafed to answer those who spoke to him, but look’d upon them

with an unalter’d countenance; and, when he took his seat as professor,

sat with a face of astonishment, and made no answer to the objections

of his opponents. Finally, having, before his death, wasted away with a

phrantic melancholy, he burn’d all the manuscripts he had by him in a

fit of madness: being reduced in appearance to a skeleton and the mere

figure of a man[30], he died at length of a consumption.

It has indeed been observ’d, that this species of melancholy in some

measure promotes learning, by increasing the penetration; for, whilst

melancholy men are intent upon one idea only, the mind contemplates this

object alone, and considers it on every side; nor is it distracted by

other pursuits. But who ever proceeded to this pitch of madness, as to

desire to purchase an increase of discernment at such a price? Of what

advantage is science without health? He knows too much, who is render’d

unhappy by his knowledge.

It cannot indeed be denied, that there are men whom nature has endow’d

with a Milonian stomach, and intestines of iron, who can bear with

impunity the labour of the mind, bodily inaction, and excesses of

gluttony. But are they therefore more happy? By no means; for then the

vessels are overwhelm’d by the load of humours, the cellular membrane

swells with fat, the viscera are press’d on every side, the whole habit

grows turgid, they become heavy and indolent, the slightest motion puts

them quite out of breath, and they sweat all over; at last they die

before their time, either of apoplexy, a suffocating catarrh, or other

diseases occasion’d by plethora: and it has been justly observ’d, that

too strong a stomach has often prov’d fatal to the learned[31].

There is no part of the body which is not at last affected by inaction;

for the blood being vitiated, all the parts, which it washes, catch

the infection sooner or later; the lungs are overwhelm’d with a mucous

substance, this gives rise to a cough, a shortness of breath, an asthma,

an imposthume. This the illustrious TRIGLANDUS unhappily experienc’d,

who, having contracted a bad habit of body by a studious and sedentary

life, from which BOERHAAVE himself dissuaded him, wasted away with

an imposthume and died, after having suffer’d the most excruciating

torments[32]. By the mucous matter being harden’d the lungs of SWAMMERDAM

were turn’d into a quarry, and he spit up small stones a long time before

his death.

That the stone, and other severer disorders of the bladder, are the

fruits of too assiduous an application to learning, is prov’d by the

sad experience of HEURNIUS, CASAUBON, BEVEROVICIUS, SYDENHAM, and many

others, amongst whom may be reckon’d the illustrious exile of Geneva, to

whom Britain now boasts of having afforded an asylum[33].

Whilst all the excretions are disturb’d, the chief of them all, namely

cuticular perspiration, is not free from disease. As perspiration is

greatly promoted by muscular motion, which both prepares humours for

secretion, and gives strength to the exhaling vessels; so is it greatly

interrupted by the want of that motion; the humour that ought to be

excreted is retain’d, and pollutes the whole mass of the fluids, and

gives rise to rheumatic or catarrhous disorders and a troublesome phlegm.

Of this HORACE complained long since, and with this complaint almost all

men of learning are afflicted; for they can scarce read or write for any

time, but they are immediately troubled with a slight running of the

nose, or seiz’d with a cough.

From the same source are derived those irregular fevers, which often

occur without any visible cause, whilst the unperspirable humours, which

have been generated by the defect of the stomach, and the want of motion,

are unable to pass the cutaneous vessels.

Perpetual rest is alone able to torture those nerves, which have been

weakened by the labours of the mind; and it often quite destroys them,

even in those who equally give themselves up to indolence both mental

and corporeal. For the nervous system is the last work of the human

machine, and if any function fails, the nerves are immediately affected;

so that often from their defect, whenever it appears, there results a

well-grounded suspicion of a disease in the stomach, or in some other

part. They are therefore vitiated in the learned for two reasons;

for, being plac’d between the mind and body, they are punish’d though

innocent, let which of the two be in fault; nor do they however go

unrevenged; for the injuries they suffer on one part they carry over to

t’other, and thus, by a vicious circle, the mind hurts the body, and the

body impairs the mind, and they with one accord injure and weaken the

nerves.

The seminal fluid, which has been thought by some great men not to be

very different from the nervous liquor, is likewise depriv’d of its

force; and upon this principle, and from an accurate consideration of

what each part in a father contributes to the formation of a son, it

perhaps is not badly accounted for, why strong and illustrious sons are

seldom the offspring of illustrious men: for the _punctum saliens_ is

contaminated at the first moment of life, whence it receives an injury

which is not afterwards to be repair’d by any art; and whilst the mind

of the father was entirely given up to meditation, and his corporeal

functions totally neglected, the vivifying liquor was perhaps defrauded

of that part of elaboration which it should have had from the brain, so

as to give a proper tone to the brain of the embryo.

From that general laxity of the fibres, which is demonstrated to the

senses themselves by the softness of the muscles, by the force of the

artery, and by that laxity of the gums which throws out sound teeth

without any pain; from that general laxity, I say, arises that weakness

which oppresses so many learned men, and which I lately lamented to see,

whilst, as a friend and physician, I sat by our beloved ALPHONSUS[34],

to whom the wishes of the public had promis’d the age of NESTOR; and all

the hopes I had of his recovering his health were immediately banish’d,

by a weakness greater than any I remember ever to have seen, and which

the Herculean labours of his mind had brought upon a thin body. How

great and irrepairable a loss was then sustain’d by religion, virtue,

the church, the city, his unfortunate family, and the youth of this

academy! What a man, what a colleague, what a friend have we lost,

illustrious professors! one who, as EUPHRATES of old, was remarkable for

the greatest sanctity of manners, for the utmost care in the discharge

of all the duties incumbent upon him, which were many in number; one

whose complaisance was equal, who was entirely free from austerity, whose

presence excited reverence, and not dread, for he was severe upon vices,

not upon men; whose learning was extensive, whose discourse was copious,

various, and, above all, pleasing, and yet not without a Platonic

sublimity; one, in short, who was capable of persuading and working upon

such as were most averse to his documents: having liv’d in the utmost

veneration, he left behind him the highest regret for his loss. But to

return to our subject from this sad digression.

Thus have I treated of the two first causes of the diseases of the

learned; others remain still to be spoken of; and the first that occurs,

whilst I am upon the subject of inaction, is the very posture of constant

sitting, with the body stooping, and the legs bent; for this both hurts

the lower extremities, and, by obstructing the viscera of the abdomen,

soon occasions all sorts of disorders arising from indigestion: and

those learned doctors prudently consult their health, who indulge their

meditations, not indeed standing, for that posture is not without its

inconveniences, but walking. And this is one of the bad effects of

sitting, that it greatly obstructs the passage of the blood in the

abdominal veins, which makes it stagnate at the anus, where it meets with

less resistance, and causes those shocking piles that torment so many

literati, and, though praised by some, certainly do much more harm than

good.

Nocturnal lucubrations, which are hurtful upon many accounts, must have

their place amongst the causes of disorders; for whilst a great part of

the night is spent in study, sufficient time is not allow’d for sleep;

nor does a gentle slumber succeed meditation; a circumstance which I

have already lamented: for the oscillations of the fibres of the brain

still continue, and that full ease of the internal senses is wanting

which alone is capable of repairing our lost strength. They likewise

pitch upon an unreasonable time for sleep; for nature has assigned the

first approach of night as the proper time for beginning to repose; the

night invites to sleep as well as the unwholesome air, and to this end

its darkness and silence contribute: besides, the nocturnal air is cold

and moist, and, when the sun retires, most animals feel their strength

diminish’d, and night forces some of them to sleep even against their

inclinations, as it does many plants.

The night air is so unfavourable to study, that the celebrated VAN

SWIETEN knew a gouty man, in whom the slightest application of mind, and

even the reading of a letter, after sun-set, occasion’d a fit of the

gout. Nor should we forget that study forces the blood into the brain,

and that nothing can be more dangerous than to study in bed; for both

sleep, and the posture of the body in sleep, increases the quantity of

blood in the skull.

Therefore nocturnal studies produce all those disorders which the want

of rest gives rise to; the organs of sense are principally affected;

their strength is exhausted, the fibres are either worn or agitated

by violent motions; hence arise an incoherent series of thoughts, a

luxuriant imagination, deliriums, dreadful head-achs, and, finally, a

total privation of sleep, scarce to be cur’d by remedies, and which often

occasions fatal disorders.

The injuries of watching are increased by the ill effects of candles,

which infect the air by their gross vapour, so pernicious to the lungs,

the eyes, and the nerves. It is, therefore, the highest advantage

imaginable to go to bed betimes, and rise early in the morning. _Aurora

musis amica_: Aurora favours the muses.

The close air, which they always use, is hurtful; but I shall speak of

the air hereafter. Nor should their dirtiness be forgotten, as some

learned men, entirely neglecting the care of their bodies, and not at all

sollicitous about cleanliness, disgust others, and bring upon themselves

those disorders which proceed from obstructed perspiration: for how can

that skin perspire, whose pores are stopped up with dirt. Most of them

are extremely faulty with respect to their teeth, which, being filled

with putrid filth, and exhaling a most nauseous stench, first infect all

the adjacent parts, and the very saliva of the sick person; soon after

cause violent pains, and at last, falling before the time, leave the

stomach destitute of the powerful aid of mastication.

Akin to dirtiness is the pernicious custom of some, who, deaf to the

calls of nature, defer going to stool, and suppress their urine a long

time, to avoid interrupting their studies; not reflecting that many

dreadful disorders spring from this source.

For by too long a delay the secreted humours become too putrid, are

attenuated, irritate the intestines or the bladder, vitiate the mucous

matter, and sometimes occasion grievous disorders of the particular

organ; the putrid matter being absorb’d by the vessels with which all

the cavities of the body abound, pollutes the blood; and, which is

still worse, the nerves become disused to obey the stimulus; nay, they

sometimes, by too much tension, begin to grow paralytic; so that the

expulsive force, for the voiding of excrements or urine, almost entirely

ceases, and should every day be renew’d by art. Whilst the illustrious

TYCHO BRAHE, riding in the same chariot with the emperor, suppress’d his

urine, he pay’d for his ill-tim’d modesty by death; and I even now have

under my care a man of learning, who by a long suppression of his urine

became unable to contain it; nor can he void it when he thinks proper,

but it runs from him night and day by drops.

Retirement from all human society is likewise hurtful to them; for man,

whom nature made for man, she intended also should be benefited by

society.

But nothing renders study and application more pernicious than the

sadness that accompanies them: study is capable of clouding the temper of

the happiest man with melancholy: if real and external causes of grief

are added to this, the mind, overwhelm’d with so many strokes, at last

sinks under them, and in its own ruin involves that of the body. Anxious

cares are likewise hurtful; so that I can hardly conceive how great men,

whom the difficulty of their undertakings kept in unremitting meditation,

and whom the uncertainty of events fill’d with continual anxiety, could

go through with such great undertakings. Nature endow’d CÆSAR, MAHOMET,

CROMWELL, PAOLI, and some few more, with faculties which she refused

other mortals, and which, notwithstanding, would scarce have enabled them

to perform such great exploits without the assistance of sobriety and

incessant action.

We should not, however, imagine, that the learned alone destroy their

health by mental labour; it is of no consequence what the object is that

engages the mind, if it applies a considerable time and with earnestness,

it wastes both its own strength and that of the body. Kings, senators,

ministers, ambassadors, and all those concern’d in the administration of

public affairs, are subject to the same unhappy fate which the learned

deplore, if they labour with equal assiduity in transacting public

affairs, as the learned in perusing books. But it is their happiness,

that, in the various business and dissipation of their places, they are

oblig’d often to quit their closets, and even against their wills are, by

a salutary necessity, compell’d to take frequent exercise: the chief use

of this is, that it admirably prepares the blood for the generation of

fresh animal spirits, and in the same time it brings a greater quantity

of blood to the secerning organs, and so restores what thought had

exhausted, and frames new instruments for the thinking mind. But nothing

can force the studious from their books, and they are quite enervated by

inaction: to palliate which you will perhaps bring some examples of men

who have liv’d to a great age, though they used but little or no action.

There are but few men; but you will, I doubt not, bring many women. Take

notice, however, that, though they had not much muscular motion, they had

many other helps, by which nature promotes the circulation of the blood,

_viz._ an agreeable stirring of the passions, which excites, and does

not destroy; a constant chearfulness and eternal loquacity, and other

assistances of a similar nature: they likewise use but little food. The

case is quite different with the learned: they do not live with the same

sobriety; and therefore it is no wonder that they enjoy their health

worse than any other class of men.

Thus have I laid before you the chief causes, from which the diseases

incident to the studious take rise; and I should never make an end, were

I to enumerate the inferior causes, which professors have a bad custom

of assigning from their own invention: I shall therefore pass by all the

secondary causes. But there are men, truly learned, illustrious votaries

of the muses, who, besides the disorders that spring from too assiduous

an application of mind, experience others, owing to the nature of the

object that engages them. Anatomists often contract malignant fevers

by breathing putrid air, and other diseases from the corruption of the

bile, from the matter in which their hands are constantly immersed, a

slight excoriation arising, or an inconsiderable wound, which sometimes

end in their deaths. Chemical experiments are attended with danger,

and an acid smoke, of a very penetrating nature, would have kill’d the

great BOERHAAVE, if there had not been at hand an alcaline spirit, which

overcame the acid and expanded the compressed lungs. Botanists have been

often hurt by the plants for which they have so strong a passion. These,

and the like, rather relate to the disorders of artificers, (excuse the

expression); but this discourse turns upon the disorders which study

brings upon some of the organs.

The first that offer are the eyes, which constant attention so fatigues,

that I have often seen doctors who had not attain’d to their thirtieth

year, and yet could hardly bear the light, especially candle-light; and

were scarce able to read a few pages without their eyes being suffused

with tears, then growing dim, and at last quite incapable to distinguish

any object. But the eyes are much sooner and much more easily affected by

reading at night; for there is not a man living who has not experienc’d,

at least once in his life, how much they suffer by the motion of light

and the irritation of smoke.

Orators have disorders peculiar to themselves, which are of a very

grievous nature: for however reading aloud may be of service to the

lungs, vehement declamation is hurtful: and how often do preachers or

lawyers pass whole days and nights in their studies, when the lungs,

unequal to the efforts of speaking, are severely injur’d. How much

more happy are those pastors of the church, who cultivate learning,

but are kept from their studies by other avocations, being in this

respect equally privileg’d with the physicians, whom the health of their

fellow-creatures does not suffer to impair their own health by study.

Happy likewise are all those whom the nature of their business calls off

from study; for though they are not thereby exempted from the labours of

the mind, the change of their employments is however a great consolation

to them. But unhappy are those preachers, who, being exempt from other

ecclesiastical functions, live only to study, and compose eloquent

discourses; unhappy those lawyers, who are entirely taken up with

managing and pleading causes; for their health is insensibly impaired by

the life they lead, their throat, wind-pipe, and lungs, are irritated,

heated, and inflamed; hence proceed catarrhs, hoarseness, a broken voice,

spitting of blood, a cough, a fever, great weakness, and at last a

consumption; and, whilst they give light to others, they are extinguished

like the snuff of a candle, unless they take care of themselves. This is

what CICERO did, who, being told that he was beginning to be consumptive,

avoided pleading for two years, by the advice of his physicians; in

which time he recovered his strength and health, which had been greatly

impaired[35].

These, worthy auditors, are most of the disorders that are occasioned

by too great an attachment to study, or a continued application of the

mind to any object whatever: nor are we to imagine that all undergo

the same sufferings; much variety is here occasioned by the various

constitutions of men, by their different ages, and the diversity of

their external circumstances. There are few or no bodies but what have

some weak parts, which suffer the first attacks of every disorder. He

whose stomach is naturally weak, or who has rendered it so by living in

a manner not suited to his constitution, will first complain of pains

in the ventricle, whilst the nerves, which he received strong in a weak

body, are still in a good state. On the other hand, he who is troubled

with weak nerves, but has a good stomach, will long suffer all sorts of

nervous disorders, the digestion remaining unhurt.

He in whom the muscular or cellular fibres are relaxed, will complain

of lassitude, drowsiness, weakness, swellings, his head and stomach

remaining unhurt. Another will suffer all the disorders incident to the

lungs, who received them from nature not indued with a proper degree of

strength. In these the vascular system of the head is weak, they are

troubled with incessant head-achs, or bleeding at the nose, to which

other studious youths are obnoxious, their intense application to study

forcing the blood upwards. Finally, every man, according to the part

affected with weakness, is liable to complain of some disorders more than

others.

Even strength itself has its disadvantages; for whilst robust and

vigorous young men devote themselves to study with unbridled ardour,

the power of the soul, being rous’d and strongly stimulating the whole

system, so increases the action of the solids, that there arise diseases

occasion’d by too violent a motion, such as inflammations and malignant

fevers; and when these disorders are once begun, they return for some

years, till the strength being entirely broken, chronical disorders

succeed, according to the common fate of mankind.

A great deal depends upon the age, with regard to which we should not be

so indiscreet as to bear too hard upon youth, nor exact from them over

great tasks; for nothing so totally exhausts and destroys the strength.

I have often found boys of a penetrating genius, tinctured with learning

beyond what could be expected from their years, and always with some

concern, as I saw how it would end; because our youthful days should be

consecrated to exercise, and to acquiring strength by its means, and not

to severe study, which obstructs both vigour and growth.

There have been examples of boys, who before they had pass’d their

sixth year, appear’d by their sudden growth to be men: the last example

of this sort, we meet with in the memoirs of the French academy: but

listen to the sequel: the understanding continued that of a child in

a well set body, and, the strength being so soon exhausted, could

scarce support a life of twelve years. Whilst the powers of the mind,

or in other words, the strength of the brain surpass the age, nature,

which is unequal to many tasks, forgets the body; the whole machine is

overwhelm’d with languor, the fibres want strength, and severe disorders

bring on an untimely death. JOHN PHILIP BARATHIER lately afforded us an

illustrious and well known example of the truth of this observation.

You all lament another PHILIP, whom you knew, and whom I regret not

having known more intimately, who being from his early infancy endowed

with a penetrating genius, and addicted to study at that time of life,

which nature intended should be dedicated to strengthening the body, was

attack’d by the severest disorders, and could recover his health only by

the most abstemious diet, and by totally relinquishing his studies: but

soon, unmindful of his weakness, he by an untimely death paid for his

premature learning. May a better fate be reserv’d for LE FANCOIS, a youth

of fourteen, who, as I hear, has acquir’d a high reputation amongst the

French, by his genius and extraordinary erudition.

I have often seen with concern the children of peasants loaded with

labour above their age and strength, but a still worse error is

committed, when the mind of a child is forc’d to apply before the time,

and beyond its abilities; and this is generally productive of the worst

consequences, for the powers of the mind brought to maturity by a

pernicious art, are short-liv’d, and soon grow old: and who has not with

grief seen children of the brightest hopes, hardly give proofs of common

understanding, when grown up? The earth is a long time prepar’d to admit

seed, and before it is sown, receives that strength, which afterwards

impregnates it with fertility from the sun, the air, and the plough; then

the grain springs up, vegetates, flourishes, and brings good fruits to

maturity.

But if early studies are hurtful, it is no less dangerous to attach

oneself to study in an advanc’d age; for habit becomes gradually a second

nature when we begin from our tender age; but at an advanc’d period it

is no longer susceptible of new habits; and the fibres of the brain

accustom’d to rest, are torn before they can receive new and regular

motions. I not long since with difficulty cur’d a native of this country,

who in his fortieth year laying aside mercantile business, to pore

night and day over the works of NEWTON, CLARKE and LOCKE, had totally

disorder’d his brain. He recovered his health by remedies, by a cessation

of study, and amusing conversation; but the joy was but short-liv’d,

for by again dipping into the sublime, geometry, and metaphysical

abstractions, he once more lost his senses[36].

Nor is it less laborious to continue our accustom’d studies too long,

when old age approaches. The soul that animates our bodies, is indeed

immortal; but so long as it is connected with a feeble frame, it must be

influenc’d by its nature.

_Gigni pariter cum corpore, & una_

_Crescere sentimus, pariterque senescere mentem._

_Besides, ’tis plain, that souls are born and grow,_

_And all by age decay, as bodies do._

CREECHE’S Lucretius, book 3.

The labours of the mind should therefore be retrench’d, as the declining

powers of the body direct; the latter becomes incapable of bearing the

same burthens, the former of pursuing the same studies, which in this

period of life soonest break the constitution, and destroy the brain; and

are of so little use, that old men consult their glory no less than their

health, by retiring betimes.

_Solve senescentem mature sanus equum, ne_

_Peccet ad extremum ridendus, & ilia ducat._

_Loose from the rapid car your aged horse,_

_Lest in the race, derided, left behind,_

_He drag his jaded limbs, and burst his wind._

FRANCIS’S Horace, lib. 1. ep. 1.

But it grieves me, respectable auditors, that you should be obliged to

hear of so many disorders, and I to give an account of them; so I shall

say no more of so melancholy a subject, but proceed to treat of the

remedies for the several diseases.

What lover ever had eyes to see the blemishes of his mistress? What lover

ever ceas’d to admire his mistress’s beauty? This is another pernicious

effect of learning; it occasions a sourness of temper. Philosophers think

themselves wise in every thing; ’tis a difficult matter to persuade them

that they every day injure their health by their manner of living; you

may advise, intreat, and even scold them, it will be all to no purpose;

they impose upon themselves a thousand different ways; some by too great

a confidence in their strength, others by the hopes of impunity from the

punishments being delayed; others again by the deceitful defence of the

power of habit, and others again by the still more deceitful example

of other men’s good luck; others by other motives; and all, by that

steady adherence to their purpose, which they think becoming in a man of

virtue, are so blinded, that they are not affected by future sufferings,

and hardly even by those they have already incurred. I shall not however

neglect my duty as a monitor, and if I should fail of success, it will

be at least some merit to have attempted in a design of so much utility.

Preservatives are to be offered to such of the studious as are still in

health, and remedies to those who have impair’d their constitutions.

The sure and only preservative is for the mind to be often unemploy’d,

and the body to labour. This does not hold with regard to all men of

learning; there are some whose meditations should be disturb’d upon

no account whatever. DESCARTES frames a world, NEWTON revolves the

whole system of the universe in his mind, MONTESQUIEU makes laws for

all nations; let no body interrupt them, let all nature be silent, they

labour for us, let the good of the people be the supreme law; they

were born to cultivate those studies. But how few are there, whose

labours are of such consequence? Most studious men lose their time,

and break their constitutions to no purpose; one makes a collection of

common-place topicks, another embellishes such as are threadbare, a third

anxiously investigates matters of no utility, others make trifles the

subject of laborious researches, and all are equally unmindful of the

unprofitableness and danger of their pursuits. But be vigilant for their

good; knock at their doors; rouse them from their lethargy; make them,

whether they will or no, lay aside their studies for hours together,

and let their minds not be totally abandoned to idleness, but recreated

by gentle ease, whilst their strength is restored by exercise. At the

beginning of my discourse I displayed the advantages of exercise: let it

therefore be observed as an inviolable rule by the learned, to dedicate

an hour or two every day to walking, that the lungs may be recreated

by a free use of the air, that the stagnant humours may be thrown off,

perspiration renewed, the limbs strengthened, and the nerves repaired.

BOERHAAVE chose for this purpose the hour before dinner. Nor is walking

alone sufficient. I would likewise recommend riding, which acts admirably

upon the head and lungs, and above all upon the abdominal viscera, by

repeatedly agitating them; as likewise all the other exercises, which

were carefully cultivated both by the ancients and our ancestors; but

which we, to our great detriment, have neglected. Let us not forget

HERODICUS, a man of learning, endowed with extraordinary intellectual

faculties, but the most infirm of all mortals, who by exercise alone so

confirmed his health, that he lived entirely free from disorders to a

hundred years of age, and composed a treatise upon the gymnastic art.

Let us not forget SOCRATES, the wisest of mankind, who thought it worth

his while to learn this art. STRATO, being troubled with the spleen, had

recourse to exercise, which cured him. HYSMONÆUS, being afflicted with a

weakness of the nerves, had recourse to the olympic games, and by that

exercise overcame the disorder. Sailing should have its share of praise,

amongst other sorts of exercise, whose power in removing the obstructions

of the viscera, throwing off the bile, restoring the lungs, renewing

perspiration, and strengthening the fibres, the ancients were well

acquainted with: and it has lately been demonstrated by the illustrious

GILCHRIST, and was likewise preferred to all other sorts of carriage by

AUGUSTUS CÆSAR, who, when he had any occasion to travel, chose rather

to go by sea than otherwise, if it was possible. AUGUSTUS CÆSAR may in

many respects be compared to the studious and learned; “eloquentiam enim

studiaque liberaliora ab ætate prima & cupide & laboriosissime exercuit;

& graves valetudines per omnem vitam expertus est; & distillationibus,

& rheumaticis doloribus, & calculo obnoxius vixit, & præcordiorum

inflatione aliquoties tentabatur; litteratis vero sapientior;” “for he

cultivated eloquence and the liberal arts from his early youth with taste

and diligence, and was during his whole life a valetudinarian; he was

troubled with catarrhs, rheumatic pains, and the stone, and was sometimes

likewise attacked with an inflammation of the parts about the heart; but,

being more prudent than most men of learning, _he took great care of his

valetudinary constitution_[37].” Riding in an easy chariot is of little

service; of still less the easy succussions of the several machines

which have been invented by modern industry for moving the sick about in

their chambers; but I set a high value upon all those plays or diversions

which oblige a man to exercise both his arms; such, for example, are

shuttle-cock, and others of the like nature.

Do not be concerned, my worthy auditors; the time which you devote to

recreation is not lost to learning; you will presently apply to your

studies with renewed alacrity, and, whilst your strength and health are

preserved, a long life will abundantly recompense the hours dedicated

to the care of the body. In leisure likewise those sublime ideas may

rise, which the obscurity of your musæum would for ever have suppressed,

_for lively and vigorous geniuses make the more noble efforts, the more

intervals of leisure they allow themselves_[38]. I have a particular

friend, who, in his walks in the country, has composed books that will

immortalize his name; _for the souls of those who walk under the canopy

of heaven are exalted_: and PLINY the younger observes, _that it is

surprizing to what a degree the soul is rous’d by the agitation and

motion of the body_: close confinement contracts the body, the oil of the

lamp, as it were, infects the thoughts by its smell, and by too intense

study we become incapable of application. PLUTARCH has an ingenious

observation, that as plants are nourished by moderate watering, but

overwhelmed by too much, so the soul is improved by moderate studies,

but overpowered by excessive studies[39]. Take my advice therefore, you

men of learning; you will one day repent your austere retirement; but it

will be too late to look for a remedy when the danger is at hand; and

foresight becomes the wise man: don’t think to excuse your dangerous

errors; the experiment is not made upon a vulgar soul, the life of a man

of learning is at stake; neither alledge, in excuse for yourselves, the

examples of others; nor your own strength, which you break every day;

nor vain custom, for we can never use ourselves to a disease; nor the

impunity of your early years, for reiterated strokes will break what one

alone could not. Lay aside, therefore, the agitations of your minds, and

exercise your bodies; for exercise is of so much service to the mind,

that HOFFMAN[40] has by its means made stupid men attain to a degree

of understanding; and do not despise the health of the body, with the

assistance of which the labour of the mind will become more supportable;

for the powers of the mind grow dull, if the strength of the body is

in a wavering unsettled state. Physicians have power over souls; and

DESCARTES has justly observed, “Animum adeo a temperamento & organorum

corporis dispositione pendere, ut si ratio aliqua possit inveniri,

quæ homines sapientiores & ingeniosiores reddat quam hactenus fuerit,

credendum sit illam in medicina quæri debere.” “That the soul depends

so much upon the constitution and disposition of the corporeal organs,

that, if there could be a method found to render men wise and ingenious,

it seems probable that it should be sought in physick[41].” There is a

regimen calculated for the studious, of which I shall now give a succinct

account[42].

HIPPOCRATES in three words expresses the whole alimentary diet of all

ages, all ranks of men, and all conditions, ὡς ὁ πονος εστι και ἡ τροφη,

food should be as labour; for, as he says elsewhere, if the aliments

are overcome, that is, if they are subdued by the powers of the body,

they invigorate it; if they overcome it, that is, when they get the

better of the digestive powers, they give rise to many bad effects: and

PLUTARCH justly observes from HIPPOCRATES, that health arises from the

exact equality of bodily exercise and the aliments taken. The reason is,

the body by its own force makes its own juices and humours out of the

aliments it uses: nor is its state the same in the robust ploughman and

enfeebled doctor. Whilst the former, by incessant exercise, by breathing

every day the wholesome country air, by a chearful and vacant mind,

unembarrassed by perplexing meditations, and by soft slumbers continually

repairs his strength, he can bear any sort of food; the salival, gastric,

intestinal, and bilious liquors, elaborated to the highest perfection,

thoroughly dissolve the most glutinous fat, and even salt pork hardened

by smoke; the strength of the muscles of the stomach and intestines

is unimpaired; they suffer nothing to stay beyond its time in their

cavities; and as the aliments are digested, their remains are thrown out.

How different from this is the case of the man debilitated by study! The

hard bowels of the mower can digest any thing, the soft viscera of the

learned or indolent are incapable of digestion; the latter therefore

should maturely deliberate, what his powers are equal to, and what not.

Give the labouring man thin broth, small cabbage, jellies, pullet’s

flesh, or white bread; the force of the viscera and constant labour will

soon digest these, he will immediately grow hungry, sweat all over, and

in a short time his strength will fail him, if it be not soon repaired

with fat bacon, hard cheese, and black bread. But let this food, or food

of the like nature, be eaten by the weak inhabitants of cities, who are

unequal to the labour of digesting it, dreadful diseases will soon arise

from thence, the aliments being converted into poison. These are golden

words of BOERHAAVE: “Eruditi viri (inquit) nolunt gulæ temperare, &

audent eadem edere quæ rustici, verum non ferunt hunc victum; optent, aut

feriari a studiis, aut a duris cibis.” “Men of learning, says he, will

not live temperately; but are so indiscreet as to eat the same food that

labouring men do, and which they are not able to bear; so they should

wish either to be exempted from the necessity of studying, or from that

of eating strong food[43],” which if they continue to live upon, there

arise obstinate obstructions in the abdominal viscera.

The strength of the aliments is estimated not by the nature of the food

alone, but by its quantity: it is not therefore enough to be choice in

the quality; attention should likewise be given to the quantity of the

food. I will assert with confidence, that an error in either respect

is attended with very bad consequences; but it is worst of all when it

relates to the quantity. A due observation of the bodies of learned men

will shew what aliments should be chosen, and what avoided: to enumerate

all the various sorts would be tedious and disagreeable; it will be

sufficient to mention the principal kinds.

All fat, viscid aliments, all aliments puffed with wind, or hardened

either by art or nature, are hurtful. The ancients condemned all sorts

of pulse; and PYTHAGORAS strictly forbid his disciples to eat beans,

as these have an extraordinary flatulency, highly destructive of the

tranquillity of mind necessary to one who investigates truth. Every body

knows, that whilst the stomach swells the mind is depressed with languor,

and becomes incapable of performing its functions. The tender flesh of

all young animals is of great service, except those of swine and geese;

not when boiled in copious broth, for then they are deprived of their

nutritious juices, but when roasted, or boiled in a small quantity of

water. Such roots are wholesome as consist of a light flour, not without

a mixture of salt or sugar[44]; soft herbs, which are neither too acid

nor too emollient. Nor should the several sorts of seeds be denied

their praise; nor ripe fruit, concerning the use of which, however, a

caution should be observed; for they relax, dissolve, cause acidity,

and thereby are the less fit for studious men. But take notice, amongst

the most severe disorders of the learned are reckoned the stagnation,

the thickening, and the hardening of the bile, which defeats are best

remedied by fruits that swell with saponaceous juices, as cherries,

strawberries, rasberries, gooseberries, peaches, grapes, pears, and other

fruits of the like nature, which studious, sedentary men cannot well do

without, especially in summer. Care should be taken to prevent their

being detrimental, by eating them when the stomach is empty, either with

or without bread, and long before and long after having drunk wine; for

thus they neither disturb the digestion of the other aliments, nor, being

hardened with wine, prove more difficult of digestion themselves, nor are

turned into a sourness, but act like a mild and gently stimulating soap,

resolve concretions, accelerate the course of the bile, stimulate the

sluggish intestines, and, by removing obstinate costiveness, put an end

to grievous disorders, and either prevent hypochondriac melancholy, with

the matter from whence it arises, or cure it. They are of great service

to those, whom severe study throws into inflammatory disorders, or slow

fevers, proceeding from a drying up of the humours: but they are hurtful

when, the strength being broken, the fibres have lost their tone, and the

fluids are too thin. Eggs boiled in such a manner as to be supped are

also very good for them; for these, being inspissated by boiling, mix

with the harder aliments. Well-baked bread and decoctions of bread are

also of service to them. Milk is wholesome, provided it does not grow

acid in the stomach. Chocolate deserves to be recommended; for with its

soft flour and penetrating oil, and a sort of gentle bitter irritating

taste, it soon repairs and restores the strength: do not, however, use

it to excess; it is a very nutritious aliment, and increases plethora in

those of a plethoric disposition; it is fat, and by too great lubrication

renders the stomach and intestines incapable of being stimulated,

so that neither does the stomach grow hungry, nor are the excrements

voided: it moreover grows acid, and causes a gnawing of the stomach.

Various dishes, which may be made out of these by a judicious and prudent

mixture, are very wholesome; but it is better to use only simple food,

either raw or boiled.

_Accipe nunc, victus tenuis quæ quantaque secum,_

_Afferat. Imprimis valeas bene nam variæ res,_

_Ut noceant homini, credas, memor illius escæ,_

_Quæ simplex olim tibi sederit, at simul assis_

_Miscueris elixa, simul conchylia turdis,_

_Dulcia se in bilem vertent, stomachoque tumultum_

_Lenta feret pituita._

_————Now mark what blessings flow_

_From frugal meals: and first they can bestow_

_That prime of blessings, health; for you’ll confess_

_That various meats the stomach must oppress,_

_If you reflect how light, how well you were,_

_When plain and simple was the chearful fare;_

_But roast and boil’d when you promiscuous eat,_

_When fowl and shell-fish in confusion meet,_

_Sweets, turn’d to choler, with cold phlegm engage,_

_And in the stomach civil warfare wage._

FRANCIS’S Horace, lib. 2. sat. 2.

Relaxed fibres, quite benumbed by a sedentary life, sometimes require a

gentle stimulus; therefore a mild seasoning is not to be disapproved of,

as salt, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg; and such agreeable aromaticks of our

own country as every man cultivates in his garden, thyme, sweet-marjoram,

fennil, chervil, and others of the like nature: but those are to be

avoided which stimulate with a sharp salt or oil, that nature can

scarcely overcome. I hate garlick as much as HORACE himself; nor do I

better like pepper and mustard, which are pernicious for their parching

oils: but I advise you, however, not to make an immoderate use of the

milder sort of seasonings, but use them as remedies, and not for a

constancy; for their frequent irritation increases frictions, wastes the

fibres, and shortens life.

There are other helps to digestion, and the chief of these is exact

mastication, which greatly forwards the work of the stomach: this is

highly recommended by physicians; but slighted by others very foolishly,

and greatly to their own prejudice. It both increases the secretion of

the saliva, which is the best menstruum of the aliments, and, whilst it

divides the latter into minute particles, it increases their superficies,

whence they are more easily penetrated by the gastric juices;

consequently there is a quicker digestion, a more compleat solution, no

spontaneous corruption, no irritating of the stomach. Therefore let not

the learned despise mastication, or rather not forget it, whilst at their

meals they are, by a pernicious habit, intent upon other things: whether

they read or meditate, the stomach suffers, because the nerves languish

when the mind thinks attentively, and experience proves to the very eyes

themselves, that digestion is badly performed when the nerves languish;

for upon binding the nerves of the stomach, the illustrious HALLER, who

made so many extraordinary discoveries, often saw the aliments totally

corrupted, instead of being digested.

Digestion is performed slowly in men of learning, therefore fresh

aliments should seldom be given them; because the state of the stomach

is very different when it is half full of undigested aliments, from what

it is when entirely void of aliments, and overflowed with the gastric

fluids, ready for the use of concoction. Therefore to make three meals

a day, one somewhat considerable, the other two rather slight, will

be sufficient for men of learning. The following order with regard to

eating, or rather living, pleases me highly, and is recommended by the

experience of numbers: Upon rising in the morning a studious person

should drink a glass of pure water; in about an hour after he should

breakfast; six hours after he should dine, having first past one hour

in walking; after dinner he should allow himself an hour or two of

leisure, because to sit down to study immediately after eating is highly

pernicious: his supper should be light; for this, there are reasons of

the greatest weight, because, as I observed before, sleep occasions a

dangerous plethora in the head; therefore the fullness of the vessels

should not be increased before sleep by too large a meal[45]: add to

this, that the functions of the nerves are suspended during the time of

sleep, and they cannot perform digestion; at last a soft and refreshing

slumber is produced by the absence of all irritation: but if the stomach

is overloaded with aliments, the sleep is interrupted, as the nerves are

continually affected by the irritation of digestion. Hence a plentiful

supper causes a heaviness in the head, sleep is disturbed, digestion

interrupted, the strength impaired, and the health entirely destroyed.

But a Platonic supper is praised, because it is not only agreeable at

the time, but the day following.

_Nam corpus onustum_

_Hesternis vitiis animum quoque prægravat una,_

_Atque affigit humo divinæ particulam auræ._

_Alter, ubi dicto citius curata sopori_

_Membra dedit, vegetus præscripta ad munia surgit._

_The body too, with yesterday’s excess_

_Burthen’d and tir’d, shall the pure soul depress;_

_Weigh down this portion of celestial birth,_

_This breath of God, and fix it to the earth._

_Who down to sleep from a short supper lies,_

_Can to the next day’s business vigorous rise._

FRANCIS’S Horace, lib. 2. sat. 2.

Most learned professors, you well know him, whom as a colleague you all

loved, that eminent man, who, when he had broke his constitution by a

profound study of antiquities, history, and both the civil and common

law, restored it considerably by the simple remedy of supping upon milk.

Not to sup at all, however, is dangerous; for the nerves of the learned

are moveable, and easily irritated; and if the chyle is not soon renewed

by a supply of new aliments, such is the acrimony of the blood, already

often subdued by the strength of the viscera, that it is an irritation of

the nerves, which totally destroys the sleep. The example of AUGUSTUS

CÆSAR, who was very moderate in eating, is very properly proposed to

the learned, as is likewise that of the illustrious LEWIS CORNARO, who

restored his ruined health by a regular diet alone; and eating but the

fourth part of the quantity of victuals eaten by his fellow-citizens,

lived to an advanced age, vigorous and chearful. Long since BARTHOLUS,

one of the most eminent lawyers, and a man well versed in polite

literature, reduced the quantity of his food and liquor to a certain

weight, and by that means preserved his intellectual faculties unimpaired

during the whole course of his life[46]. A regular diet is capable of

effecting every thing: studious men, however, whilst they take care of

their health, ought not to forget, that a man, who is well, should not so

confine himself to rules, as not to break through them, when he thinks

proper: for a constant habit is real slavery: and I have known several

learned and studious men, who were so scrupulous with regard to their

hours of eating and going to bed, that their minds seemed to be chained

to their bodies, which is the most shameful sort of servitude: nor can he

be said to be either a lover of virtue or of learning, who cannot pursue

his studies if he be obliged to wait a little longer than usual for his

meals, if he has not slept quite enough, or if the air be too hot or too

cold.

I have hitherto spoke only of solid food; liquors are not to be

forgotten. In the last age a grievous error crept into physic, that

health is the better, the more fluid the blood is; and by the advice of

BONTEKOE chiefly a pernicious custom prevailed of drinking warm liquors

both night and day, whereby the human species has greatly suffered, and

those of the present age sorely lament the injury which their forefathers

sustained in the last, by impairing the strength of their nerves.

Grave authors, who knew better, and chiefly the illustrious DUNCAN, with

BOERHAAVE, and the whole school of Leyden, have proscribed this error;

and, if they have not reformed the abuse, have at least greatly checked

it. But most valetudinarians still lie under the same prepossession,

and, looking upon an over thick blood as the source of their disorders,

have recourse to warm beverages, which others reject. It can scarce be

told, it can scarce be believed, how many disorders proceed from this

source: and I will take upon me to assert, that those pernicious bowls,

overflowing with warm liquors, are the true box of Pandora, without

even hope remaining at the bottom; for they are prolific sources of

hypochondriac melancholy, which both adds strength to and is itself one

of the worst of disorders. Nor is it to be wondered at, if warm beverages

are more hurtful to studious men, who are naturally weak and feeble,

than to others; for they are not troubled with an over thick, but, on

the contrary, with too thin a blood. You are well aware, respectable

auditors, that the density of the blood is as the motion of the solids:

the fibres of the learned are relaxed, their motions are slow, and

their blood of consequence thin. Bleed a ploughman and a doctor at the

same time: from the first there will flow a thick blood, resembling

inflammatory blood, almost solid, and of a deep red; the blood of the

second will be either of a faint red, or without any colour, soft,

gelatinous, and will almost entirely turn to water. Your blood therefore,

men of learning, should not be dissolved, but brought to a consistence;

and you should in general be moderate in the article of drinking, and

cautiously avoid warm liquors.

The blood flows with difficulty in weak persons, stagnates, obstructs,

not on account of its own density, but by the feeble contraction of the

vessels, which is increased by hard drinking. The stomach first feels

the disorder; because the liquors prepared by nature for the business of

digestion, being immersed in the liquors that are drank, become unable

to perform their functions, and the food is imperfectly dissolved on

account of the imperfection of the menstruums. The fibres of the stomach,

being too much stretched, at first give pain, and soon after lose their

force, and become unable to push forward the aliments: they therefore

load the stomach by being stopped: to cure which the sick persons again

have recourse to drinking, which with the force of a torrent drives

these half-digested aliments to the intestines. All these symptoms grow

worse if warm beverages are drank; for this is the force of heat, it

both relaxes the fibres, and, by more powerfully dissolving the phlegm,

occasions more severe pains in the stomach.

Amongst the favourite beverages of the learned, the worst is the infusion

of that famous leaf, so well known by the name of tea, which, to our

great detriment, has every year, for these two centuries past, been

constantly imported from China and Japan. This most pernicious gift first

destroys the strength of the stomach, and, if it be not soon laid aside,

equally destroys that of the viscera, the blood, the nerves; and of the

whole body; so that malignant and all chronical disorders will appear to

increase, especially nervous disorders, in proportion as the use of tea

becomes common: and you may easily form a judgment from the diseases that

prevail in every country, whether the inhabitants of it are lovers of

tea, or the contrary. How happy would it be for Europe, if by unanimous

consent the importation of this infamous leaf were prohibited, which is

endued only with a corrosive force, derived from the acrimony of the gum

with which it is pregnant: for experience shews, that what it has of an

astringent principle is lost in the warm water.

I will not pass the same censure, though I must pass some censure, upon

that celebrated beverage coffee, which both hurts by the power of the

warm water, and by irritating; for nature cannot use itself to irritation

without suffering. It is however rendered powerful by a nutritious flour,

and by a bitter and strengthening aromatic oil; so that it may well be

laid up in apothecaries shops as an useful remedy, but is improperly

used in kitchens as part of our daily food. It raises the spirits,

eases the stomach when loaded with phlegm, cures the head-ach, causes a

chearfulness of mind, and, if we may believe some people, increases its

penetration; for which reason the learned are so fond of it. But was

coffee used by HOMER, THUCIDIDES, PLATO, XENOPHON, LUCRETIUS, VIRGIL,

OVID, HORACE, PETRONIUS, and the other great men of antiquity, who

as much excelled us in genius, as we surpass them in experience and

knowledge of nature.

Warm liquors being therefore justly set aside, cold water should be used,

which has as much power in strengthening as the former in weakening the

body.

Wine deserves its share of praise; but I have the same opinion concerning

wine, with respect to the learned, that I have in regard to coffee, that

it should be used as a remedy, and not as a drink. The Creator gave pure

water as the universal drink, which he made a menstruum to all sorts of

food, and agreeable to all palates: it should be chosen cold, soft, and

mild; for it both strengthens and cleanses the viscera. Hence it has

been generally looked upon as a panacea both by the Greeks and Romans,

and it is the best of remedies when dryness prevails, or bile or acidity

are in too great quantity[47]. Digestion will be more easy, sleep

sweeter, the head seldomer clouded, and the strength greater, if, laying

aside wine, we quench our thirst with pure water alone.

Wine has one fault that renders it exceeding hurtful to the learned; it

forces the blood into the brain, and increases the several disorders

thereof, head-achs, megrim, and the like, which are hardly to be cured

without laying aside the use of wine: all these disorders are wonderfully

removed by drinking water, which prevents too great a quantity of blood

from being gathered in the head. What wonder is it then if it increases

the intellectual powers, and if those who drink water alone have a more

tenacious memory, a more lively imagination, and quicker perceptions than

others. The abstemiousness of DEMOSTHENES is a great example in favour of

drinking water, which has likewise this virtue, it in a surprising manner

subdues those catarrhs with which the learned are so often troubled,

and which the use of wine is apt to increase. They have often acid

eructations; but wine sharpens an acidity, water dulls it.

I will solemnly own, that I have cured more nervous disorders, (and

learned men are generally troubled with such) by retrenching the

quantity of liquor, forbidding all warm beverages, as well as wine, and

recommending exercise, than by any other remedies. Nor should the danger

of leaving off what people have been used to, be alledged: there is no

such danger; or, if there be, it is easily avoided by a gradual disuse.

But take notice, if sometimes the too great laxity of the stomach, the

great weakness of the body, and the depression of the spirits, require

a remedy to brace, to strengthen, to excite, to exhilarate; wine is the

most proper. In vain would you seek a more expeditious and agreeable

medicine than this through the three kingdoms of nature: but let it be

generous and smooth, and such as may vie with Falernian wine:

_Quod curas abigat, quod cum spe divite manet_

_In venas, animumque meum, quod verba ministret._

_My wines of generous and of smoother kind,_

_To drive away my cares, and to the soul,_

_Through the full veins, with golden hopes to roll._

_With flowing language to inspire my tongue,_

_And make the list’ning fair one think me young._

FRANCIS’S Hor. lib. 1. ep. 15.

But avoid those small wines which have less of the nature of wine than

vinegar, and rather irritate than strengthen. Remember that wine is an

antidote against the miseries of life and the tediousness of idleness;

cares are banished by wine, whilst the reason is intoxicated: but does

such a drink become the learned? And this puts me in mind of another sort

of intoxication, I mean that caused by smoking tobacco, which abounds

with an acrimonious salt and sulphur, together with a narcotic oil. I

have elsewhere enlarged upon the folly of smoking; here I shall add

more concisely, that the narcotic principle hurts the stomach, causes

a stuffing up of the head, head-achs, vertigos, anxiety, lethargy,

apoplexy, and finally all the effects of opium, as the great Lord BACON

has observed. _Tobacco_, says he, _the use of which herb has greatly

prevailed in the present age, is a species of henbane; it is evident

that it disturbs the head like opiates_. Therefore, young men, avoid a

dirty pleasure, equally injurious both to your health and your studies,

and which should be left to those who have recourse to it for the

killing of time. The muses fly those studies that smell like a stable,

and delight in a purer air; for one of the chief sources of health or

sickness is the air which environs us, in which we live, and by which not

only our bodies are affected, but whose power our very minds experience.

Thus the air of Bœotia, or Thrace, rendered dull those whom that of

Athens revived:

_Bœotum in crasso jurares ære natum_[48].

_Take him to books and poetry, you’ll swear_

_This king was born in thick Bœotian air._

FRANCIS’S Hor. lib. 2. ep. 1.

Prudent men will chuse as pure, as warm, and as dry an air as they can;

for such an one, by giving strength to the fibres, is salubrious to the

lungs, and promotes the circulation. A frigid and dry air is supportable:

a moist air is highly pernicious, as by it all the disorders of studious

men are aggravated; for it increases laxity, stops perspiration, and

occasions catarrhs, pains, and palsies. Every man of learning has it

not in his power to repair to Baya or Alexandria, nor does it suit them

all to breathe the country air, which is the purest; for there are more

that compile than think. The country is not a proper place to pursue such

studies; but any man may chuse a healthy habitation in town, and live in

a lightsome house, a high apartment, refreshed by a breeze in summer,

and enlightened by the sun in winter. He should take particular care to

have fresh air let into his chamber every day; without this precaution he

lives upon the infected: it should be cooled in summer, and not kept too

warm in winter; for the learned, like all weak men, as was the case of

AUGUSTUS, are ill able to bear excess of heat or cold: too great a heat

relaxes the nerves, but intense cold causes convulsions. In the dog-days

we become unfit for labour, as also in the severe cold of winter; and

the more tender the constitution, the less it is able to withstand the

weather. Such was that of MILTON, whose nerves were relaxed to such a

degree in the heat of summer, that he[49] was almost reduced to a state

of imbecillity. But the air should be warmed in winter, a fire being

kindled for the purpose; for this fresh air succeeds the corrupt air that

goes off; nor do exhalations remain, nor does the head grow warm, nor do

the feet become cold, which is of great consequence. Cold in the feet

hurts the weak by causing pains in the head, the throat, and the breast;

it disorders digestion, causes dreadful colicks, obstructs perspiration,

and prevents sleep to a very great degree. I have often cured men of

note, who had long been without sleep, though they had recourse to the

most efficacious remedies, by advising them to warm the soles of their

feet at a fire, every night before they went to bed, till the sense

of heat became painful. Others have been greatly relieved by a gently

stimulating plaster applied to the soles of their feet, and left on both

night and day.

I may probably, respectable auditors, appear to descend too much to

particulars, and to dwell too long upon trifles; but nothing is little

or inconsiderable in physick: and it is a thing of so much importance

to keep the blood from the heads of men of learning, that they should

neglect nothing which may contribute to this end. They should therefore

take care not to keep it warm with too much covering, or rather they

should use themselves to go bare-headed from their childhood. Some men

of learning have been so bold as to wrap their heads with a towel dipt

in cold water, that they might be able to continue the longer at their

studies: and what will not an inordinate desire of knowledge excite men

to? Such rashness should be avoided; but it is of service to all, and

especially to studious, sedentary men, to wash their ears, their faces,

and their whole heads, hair and all, every morning in cold water. It is

very good for the _literati_, when they feel the blood forced up into

their heads, not to walk, or inquire sollicitously after medicines, but

to sit upon their chair in total inaction, without ever uttering a word.

The same necessity of keeping the blood from the head should prevent

the learned from indulging in sleep after dinner; or, if they should

sometimes be forced to yield to sleep, let them imitate the illustrious

personage, so often mentioned already, AUGUSTUS CÆSAR, _who with the

cloaths and shoes he had on took a short nap, having covered his eyes

with his hand_[50]. I must likewise add this caution, that they should

never compose themselves to sleep, without first unbinding all their

ligatures. To wash their feet in warm water is likewise of great service

to them.

These are the chief helps by the assistance of which the learned will be

enabled to prevent the ill effects of study; but when their application

has produced real disorders, they will have occasion for other remedies.

You will sometimes see them, when nature is quite exhausted by study,

fall into a consumption: then the severity of the disorder requires

some efficacious remedy; and the best is entirely to lay aside study,

meditation, and books, to bid a long farewell to their musæums, and,

giving themselves up to leisure, chearfulness, and country pleasures,

to think of restoring their bodies alone, without troubling their heads

about cultivating their minds; but let them become what men were designed

for by nature, ploughmen or gardeners.

_Difficile est longum subito deponere amorem,_

_Difficile est: verum hoc, qua lubet, efficias._

_Una salus hæc est, hoc est tibi pervincendum._