Food Should Be Relished by G. H. Heald, M. D.

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 5, 1914

Food Should Be Relished

By G. H. Heald, M. D.

G. H. HEALD, M. D.

(Editor "Life and Health")

Not infrequently letters come to the Questions and Answers department of Life and Health in which the writers complain of indigestion, constipation, coated tongue, and the whole gamut of symptoms which indicate poisoning from the food. In nearly all these cases the correspondent is careful to give the information that he does not use meat, tea, or coffee, and that he has been trying for some time to live up to all the light of health reform.

Such letters are always a perplexity. In a way they are like the young man who came saying, "All these things have I done from my youth up; what lack I yet?" And the answer that I am prepared to give may be received with as little grace as the young man manifested. The fact is, in doing "all these things" they have failed in the very essential of health reform; for of course it is obvious, or ought to be obvious, to any who are not completely obsessed with a theory, that one who has a coated tongue, with indigestion, constipation, and a host of other disagreeable and life-shortening symptoms, is not living health reform in the spirit, though he may be following it in the letter. He may be conscientious; he may be careful to regulate his conduct according to the best light he has; but it is just as certain that he is violating some physiological law as it is that water will not run uphill. The proper adjustment of our bodies to our surroundings tends healthward; and when the tendency is the other way, there is a reason for it.

One physiological law, which we have been very slow to learn, is that good digestion depends upon relish. This has been proved by careful experiment on dogs and other animals, and also on human beings. It has been shown that the use of monotonous foods, foods that do not give pleasure in the eating of them, foods that are swallowed simply because they contain the required amount of protein, fat, carbohydrate, and salts, do not stimulate an adequate flow of digestive juice, and the digestion is therefore slower and more imperfect. Moreover, the saliva is thick and ropy and deposits the substance which becomes tartar on the teeth and fur on the tongue. The tartar in the course of time causes the teeth to loosen, and the septic mouth poisons all the food that enters it. The coated tongue being unable to taste food, the condition goes from bad to worse, for even savory foods can no longer adequately stimulate the salivary and other digestive glands.

A prominent dentist who is also a physician and surgeon has made an extended study of this subject. He first learned that the quality and quantity of the salivary secretion depend on the kind of food eaten. Certain of the foods, as the acid fruits and foods generally that have a distinct taste, increase the secretion of saliva. Later he learned that the secretions of the stomach, pancreas, and liver were similarly affected,—in other words, that "what is best for the mouth is best for the remainder of the alimentary tract,"—and concluded that "the mouth is the most important part of the whole canal." If digestion is right in that part of the canal over which we have control, it will be right the remainder of the way. If digestion is wrong, the cause is largely in the mouth. This simplifies

the problem and makes it more hopeful.

It is generally known that digestion is largely controlled by a "reflex arc," consisting of nerves carrying sensations of taste, etc., to the brain, and other nerves carrying secretory and other impulses from the brain to the glands and other structures of the alimentary tract. This doctor found that by severing one part of this arc,—the pneumogastric nerve below the heart,—so as to prevent the messages from the brain reaching the stomach and other abdominal organs, the stomach dilated, the food remained in it undigested, fermenting and decomposing, and finally caused the death of the animal through blood poisoning. He believes that a milder but more prolonged effect of a similar nature is produced in the human subject by blocking up the other end of the arc; that is, by diminishing the taste perception, first, by an habitual diet of a nonstimulating character (that is, not stimulating to the salivary glands), and, secondly, by the formation of a coating on the tongue which prevents the tasting of even foods with marked flavors.

In order to test this, he fed animals on boiled and neutralized food (neutralized with carbonate of soda). If the experiments were begun early enough, the animals all died before they were six months old. Development was retarded in a marked degree in all cases. Starch and lime in excess were extracted from the bowels. The salivary glands did not develop properly. After death, the animals nearly all showed a markedly diseased condition of the stomach. Mind you, practically all that had been done in this case was to take the normal taste out of the food.

In another series of experiments, the doctor showed that the poisons from the germs of the human mouth, if injected into animals, will cause a rise in blood pressure, and he thinks this may account for a large proportion of the high-pressure symptoms—cold feet, pale complexions, headache, and constipation—in human beings with bad teeth. By feeding rabbits with a culture from the germs of decayed teeth, he caused illness, with loss of appetite and constipation. Whether or not we grant that these experiments are conclusive, we must admit that bad mouth conditions in the human are nearly always accompanied with bad conditions elsewhere. A normal saliva is one of the best preventives of bad mouth conditions, and a proper dietary is the best assurance of a normal salivary secretion; and a dietary that is insipid, tasteless, unappetizing, is not a proper dietary.

Fletcher was not so far off when he taught that the function of the mouth is to taste and enjoy food, not to bolt food. If you will observe carefully, you will perceive that there is a much larger proportion of dyspeptics among those who do not care what their food tastes like than there is among those who are particular as to the taste of their food.

This article must not be taken as a defense for the position that we live to eat, or that the principal use of the table is to furnish us with certain animal pleasures. Like fire, our senses may be excellent servants or hard masters. Temperance lies between the extremes of indulgence of the sense of taste for the mere pleasure of it and the asceticism which makes a virtue of cutting off all the pleasures of taste. Either extreme fails of securing the greatest measure of health for the body. The nerves of taste have been given us for a purpose, and the fulfillment of that purpose is to enable us to distinguish between the good and the bad. It should be remembered, however, that the nerves of taste can be, and often are, so trained that they give pleasure only with foods that are not the best for the body as a whole. For this reason they cannot be relied upon as an infallible guide.