[Footnote 1:  See, now, “Brain-Work and Overwork,” by H.C.  Wood, M.D.; also, “Mental Overwork and Premature Disease among Public and Professional Men,” by Ch.  K. Mills, M.D.; also, “Overwork and Sanitation in Public Schools, with Remarks on the Production of Nervous Disease and Insanity,” by Ch.  K. Mills, M.D.,—­Annals of Hygiene, September, 1886.]

One of our ablest medical scholars reports himself to me as having never been aware of any sensation in the head, by which he could tell that he had worked enough, up to a late period of his college career, when, having overtaxed his brain, he was restricted by his advisers to two or three hours of daily study.  He thus learned to study hard, and ever since has been accustomed to execute all mental tasks at high pressure under intense strain and among the cares of a great practice.  All his mind-work is, however, forced labor, and it always results in a distinct sense of cerebral fatigue,—­a feeling of pressure, which is eased by clasping his hands over his head; and also there is desire to lie down and rest.

“I am not aware,” writes a physician of distinction, “that, until a few years ago, I ever felt any sense of fatigue from brain-work which I could refer to the organ employed.  The longer I worked the clearer and easier my mental processes seemed to be, until, during a time of great sorrow and anxiety, I pushed my thinking organs rather too hard.  As a result, I began to have headache after every period of intellectual exertion.  Then I lost power to sleep.  Although I have partially recovered, I am now always warned when I have done enough, by lessening ease in my work, and by a sense of fulness and tension in the head.”  The indications of brain-tire, therefore, differ in different people, and are more and more apt to be referred to the thinking organ as it departs more and more from a condition of health.  Surely a fuller record of the conditions under which men of note are using their mental machinery would be everyway worthy of attention.

Another reason why too prolonged use of the brain is so mischievous is seen in a peculiarity, which is of itself a proof of the auto-activity of the vital acts of the various organs concerned in intellection.  We sternly concentrate attention on our task, whatever it be; we do this too long, or under circumstances which make labor difficult, such as during digestion or when weighted by anxiety.  At last we stop and propose to find rest in bed.  Not so, says the ill-used brain, now morbidly wide awake; and whether we will or not, the mind keeps turning over and over the work of the day, the business or legal problem, or mumbling, so to speak, some wearisome question in a fashion made useless by the denial of full attention.  Or else the imagination soars away with the unrestful energy of a demon, conjuring up an endless procession of broken images and disconnected thoughts, so that sleep is utterly banished.