The studious are likewise very liable to the stone and gravel. Exercise greatly promotes both the secretion and discharge of urine; consequently a sedentary life must have the contrary effect. Any one may be satisfied of this by observing, that he passes much more urine by day than in the night, and also when he walks or rides, than when he sits.

The circulation in the liver being flow, obstructions in that organ can hardly fail to be the consequence of inactivity. Hence sedentary people are frequently afflicted with schirrous livers. But the proper secretion and discharge of the bile is so necessary a part of the animal œconomy, that where these are not duly performed, the health must soon be impaired. Jaundice, indigestion, loss of appetite, and a wasting of the whole body, seldom fail to be the consequences of a vitiated state of the liver, or obstructions of the bile.

Few diseases prove more fatal to the studious than consumptions of the lungs. It has already been observed, that this organ cannot be duly expanded in those who do not take proper exercise; and where that is the case, obstructions and adhesions will ensue. Not only want of exercise, but the posture in which studious persons generally sit, is very hurtful to the lungs. Those who read or write much are ready to contract a habit of bending forwards, and often press with their breast upon a table or bench. This posture cannot fail to hurt the lungs.

The functions of the heart may likewise by this means be injured. I remember to have seen a man opened, whose pericardium adhered to the breast-bone in such a manner as to obstruct the motion of the heart, and occasion his death. The only probable cause that could be assigned for this singular symptom was, that the man, whose business was writing, used constantly to sit in a bending posture, with his breast pressing upon the edge of a plain table.

No person can enjoy health who does not properly digest his food. But intense thinking and inactivity never fail to weaken the powers of digestion. Hence the humours become crude and vitiated, the solids weak and relaxed, and the whole constitution goes to ruin.

Long and intense thinking often occasions grievous head-achs, which bring on vertigoes, apoplexies, palsies, and other fatal disorders. The best way to prevent these is, never to study too long at one time, and to keep the body regular, either by proper food, or taking frequently a little of some opening medicine.

Those who read or write much are often afflicted with sore eyes. Studying by candle-light is peculiarly hurtful to the sight. This ought to be practised as seldom as possible. When it is unavoidable, the eyes should be shaded, and the head should not be held too low. When the eyes are weak or painful, they should be bathed every night and morning in cold water, to which a little brandy may be added.

It has already been observed, that the excretions are very defective in the studious. The dropsy is often occasioned by the retention of those humours which ought to be carried off in this way. Any person may observe, that sitting makes his legs swell, and that this goes off by exercise; which clearly points out the method of prevention.

Fevers, especially of the nervous kind, are often the effect of study. Nothing affects the nerves so much as intense thought. It in a manner unhinges the whole human frame, and not only hurts the vital motions, but disorders the mind itself. Hence a delirium, melancholy, and even madness, are often the effect of close application to study. In fine, there is no disease which can proceed either from a bad state of the humours, a defect of the usual secretions, or a debility of the nervous system, which may not be induced by intense thinking.

But the most afflicting of all the diseases which attack the studious is the hypochondriac. This disease seldom fails to be the companion of deep thought. It may rather be called a complication of maladies than a single one. To what a wretched condition are the best of men often reduced by it! Their strength and appetite fail; a perpetual gloom hangs over their minds; they live in the constant dread of death, and are continually in search of relief from medicine, where, alas! it is not to be found. Those who labour under this disorder, though they are often made the subject of ridicule, justly claim our highest sympathy and compassion.