HOW TO WORK 



concentrate their minds when there is the slightest 

 commotion about them. Pliny the younger tells us 

 that he formulated his thoughts in a perfectly dark 

 room, far removed from any noise. Darkness and per- 

 fect silence enabled him, he believed, to arrange his 

 ideas to best advantage; after which he called his 

 amanuensis and dictated what he had composed. 



Pliny, to be sure, worked very early in the morning, 

 rather than at night, but in this regard most moderns 

 do not care to emulate him. Yet there can be little 

 doubt that the brain is in best condition for clear, 

 vigorous thinking soon after it comes out of the restful 

 period of slumber. For work that requires sustained 

 logicality of thought, I believe there can be no question 

 that the morning hours are better than the late night 

 hours. On the other hand there is equally little ques- 

 tion that the mind tends to become emotionally more 

 susceptible at night, and it is possible that some kinds of 

 fiction -writing may be better done then. But on the 

 whole I doubt whether the time of working has any 

 great effect in one way or another. It is remarkable 

 how consistently the brain maintains a certain level of 

 productivity, regardless of conditions. 



In a word, I believe that the alleged necessity for dark- 

 ness, silence, and the other pampering conditions that 

 so many workers think they require, is for the most part 

 a fiction that they have allowed themselves to im- 

 pose upon their own minds. A trained mind should be 

 able to withdraw within itself, as it were, and become 

 virtually oblivious to its surroundings. It is said that 

 Horace Greeley could write an editorial in the midst of 



