Eating and Sleeping

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The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 8, 1863

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 23, No. 2.

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Eating and Sleeping.

BY W. T. VAIL, M. D.
THERE is an old adage, and a good one, borrowed, we believe, from the writings of St. Paul, that "if any would not work, neither should he eat." Were this very rational commandment of the great disciple generally enforced in these latter days, we apprehend it would make the greatest stir among lazy-bones the world ever saw, and create one of the greatest revolutions known to modern society.
The above maxim may, we suppose, be considered both a principle in morals, and a law of the animal economy; but there is another principle more imperatively a law of the animal economy than this, whatever it may be considered in morals, and which deserves to be written in letters of gold, and posted in every household, study, counting-room, and office, as one of the every-day guiding maxims for all human life. It is this, that if any do not sleep, neither should he eat; or, in other words, paraphrasing the maxim, there should be an exact ratio between the eating and sleeping of every individual, in order to preserve a proper equilibrium and healthful balance of the physical organism.
The point we make we do not remember to have seen descanted upon, nor elucidated, by any writer upon physiology or hygiene, in this journal, nor any other, yet so thoroughly persuaded are we of its importance that we do not hesitate to say, that upon examination it will be found a key to the origin of one of the largest class of most distressing and obstinate disorders.
No human constitution can stand an unremitting exercise of the brain and nervous system, day and night, for any length of time, or any considerable approach to such an exercise, without breaking down and running into monstrous disorder. No human constitution is capable of performing the functions of digestion and nutrition in a healthful and life-sustaining manner, unless its energies are regularly and perfectly renovated by rest and sleep. Nothing so impairs the digestive and nutritive functions, nor diminishes their power more certainly and rapidly than a loss of sleep; and nothing more surely hinders the return of perfect sleep and rest than full or over-feeding, under circumstances of nervous excitement or mental exhaustion.
The most difficult cases to treat successfully, that ever came under our care at the "Granite State," are those patients who, for years, have been racking their brains incessantly with cares or business, have been eating heartily to sustain the draft upon their systems, and have been lying awake nights, thinking. Such a course runs the unhappy individual into the most confirmed and disastrous state of nervous dyspepsia, a dyspepsia that leads directly to monomania or insanity.
Let the business man, let the student, let the professional man, let every man, who finds his accustomed period of sleep, say of six hours or of five hours daily, reduced to half this measure or less, beware how he eats. Reduce the food at once in proportion to the reduced sleep, if you would save serious disorder of the organism and secure a rapid return to health; that is, to the accustomed quiet and sleep. What shall be done, then, some one may ask me, in case we do not sleep at all? Shall we, in that case, cease to eat altogether? Where there is a complete loss of sleep for any reason, let me answer there is no remedy so good as entire fasting. Sleeping before eating is the grand rule, which might be called the golden rule for the guidance of the whole human family.
But the business man rushes headlong, too often, toward a yawning gulf of destruction. He over-works himself to-day, his appetite is, in consequence, stimulated; he eats largely, and to-night he loses half his accustomed sleep, and the other half is but poor and disturbed. To-morrow, forgetting all things else, he plunges again into the labyrinths of business. There are herculean difficulties to be grappled with and overcome in his pursuit after wealth, or in the successful management of his affairs. Again, he eats largely to supply the great demand made upon his system, and, most likely, swallows his food rapidly. Again, his sleep is broken and disturbed, no better than the night before, most likely worse. Now, what is to be done? Why, what is generally done, is to go over with the some old thing again—over-work, and again over-eat; but sleep! Can a poor, over-worked brain, and over-taxed digestive organism, sleep? There is commotion in the house. The various members of the family are agitated and calling out one to the other. Can there be any sleep? The brain calls out to the stomach to know what it is doing down there, to know what's the reason it don't keep quiet. The stomach answers back to know what's the reason, after being required, unassisted, to do work enough for two or three members of the house all day, it should not have a chance to finish up by night, and get the house to rights, even though it be a little late. The heart flutters away, because the stomach and the brain, in their agitation, have forgotten to lend their accustomed aid. So the good man of the house wakes in the morning—no, he don't wake, but he gets up—utterly confounded and half crazy.
But a good cup of strong coffee, with beefsteak, "sets him up" again after a little, and again he engages in the anxious strife of worldly pursuits. Now, how long will a poor, frail, human machine made up of flesh and blood, of bone and muscle, stand such irrational and absurd treatment.
Can a poor, crazy, insane body, long remain inhabited by a sane and healthy mind? Does any one want a recipe for mental insanity? He can have it in anything that makes the body crazy most rapidly and most thoroughly. So the student pores over his books by day and by night. He has lately come from the field or the workshop. His appetite is good. He eats heartily. But before long he does not sleep as well as he used to. The horrors of dyspepsia follow. He studies still. He is ambitious to excel. He knows that the path to influence, to honor, to wealth, lies straight through a thorough education. He has set his heart upon excellence and distinction. He means to be no common man. Poor, deluded mortal! There is a grave in the pathway he is traveling, open to receive him. Is there no one to tell him? Are none of his friends acquainted with the road? Why can he not be induced to change his course a little?
The road he is treading is a long one, and he must sleep by the way and have his regular rest, or he never will have strength to attain the golden summit to which he aspires. Thousands lie buried along that road. They perished mostly for want of rest. Thousands more are lying crippled and wrecked all along the passage. They over-worked and over-ate; sleep came not to their eyes, nor slumber to their eyelids, and they sank by the way. Our friend will fall into the same pit, and thousands more will follow him.
The picture is capable of infinite variation and expansion. But a faint outline of it can be drawn in a single article. The man who sleeps largely can eat largely. The man who sleeps little must eat less. Poor sleepers, alas! what trials do they not endure? what sufferings are they not destined to bear? And what an army of these poor, miserable unfortunates there are in the world, who are anxiously seeking for some pill or powder, some nervine or narcotic, that will give them the long-desired and most coveted of all things, "a good night's rest!" I have a recipe for all such poor mortals, worth a thousand dollars, which I offer in this number of the Herald free, and which may be the means of saving many a valuable life, and of bringing health and joy to many a sad and forlorn countenance. It is, Sleep first, and eat afterward. Make the amount of the latter correspond with the amount of the former.—Herald of Health.