The A.B.-Z. of our own nutrition

by Horace Fletcher

We may now return to our subject. If it be at all admitted that human instinct is the outcome of an every-day experience, which has led to the unconscious adoption of the most favourable conditions for life, it is particularly so with regard to the phenomena of digestion. The expression that physiology merely confirms the precepts of instinct is justified here more than anywhere else. It appears to me also that, in relation to the foregoing facts, instinct has often made out a brilliant case when brought before the tribunal of physiology. Perhaps the old and empirical requirement, that food should be eaten with interest and enjoyment, is the most imperatively emphasised and strengthened of all. In every land the act of eating is connected with certain customs designed to distract from the business of daily life. A suitable time of day is chosen, a company of relatives, acquaintances, or comrades assemble. Certain preparations are carried out (in England a change of raiment is usually effected, and often a blessing is asked upon the meal by the oldest of the family). In the case of the well-to-do a special room for meals is set apart, musical and other guests are invited to while away the time at meals—in a word, everything is directed to take away the thoughts from the cares of daily life, and to concentrate them on the repast. From this point of view it is also plain why heated discussions and serious readings are held to be unsuitable during meal-times. Probably this also explains the use of alcoholic beverages at meals, for alcohol, even in the lighter phases of its action, induces a mild narcosis, which contributes towards distraction from the pressing burden of the daily work. Naturally this highly developed hygiene of eating is only found in the intelligent and well-to-do classes, first, because here the mental activity is more strained and the various questions of life more burning; and secondly, because here also the food is served in greater quantity than is required for the wants of the organism. In the case of the poorer classes, where mental activity is less highly developed, the greater amount of muscular activity and the constant lack of more than sufficient nourishment insure a strong and lively desire for food in a normal manner, without recourse to any special regulations or customs. The same conditions explain why the preparation of food is so choice in the case of the upper classes and so simple in that of the lower. Further, all the accessories of the meal, which are foretastes of the actual repast, are obviously designed to awaken the curiosity and interest, and to augment the desire for food. How often do we see that a person who begins his customary meal with indifference afterwards enjoys it with obvious pleasure when his taste has been awakened by something piquant or, as we say, appetising. It was here only necessary to give an impulse to the organs of taste, that is, to excite them, in order that their activity might be later maintained by less powerful excitants, for a person who feels hungry such extra inducements are, of course, not necessary. The quelling of hunger in his case affords of itself sufficient enjoyment. It is not, therefore, without reason that it is often said that “Hunger is the best sauce.” This dictum, however, is only right up to a certain point, for some degree of appetising taste is desired by everybody, even by animals. Thus, a dog which has not fasted for more than some hours will not eat everything with equal pleasure which dogs usually eat, but will seek out the food which it relishes best. Hence the presence of a certain kind of spice is a general requirement, although naturally individual tastes differ.

This short discussion as to how different people behave with regard to the act of eating is of itself testimony that care should ever be taken to keep alive the attention and interest for food and to promote enjoyment of the repast—that is to say, that care should be taken of the appetite. Every one knows that a normal, useful food is a food eaten with appetite, with perceptible enjoyment. Every other form of eating, eating to order or from conviction, soon becomes worse than useless, and the instinct strives against it. One of the most frequent requests addressed to the physician is to restore the appetite. Medical men of all times and of every land have held it to be a pressing duty, after overcoming the fundamental illnesses of their patients, to pay special attention to the restoration of the appetite. I believe that in this they are not only animated by an endeavour to free their patients from troublesome symptoms, but also by the conviction that the return of appetite of itself will favour the restitution of normal digestive conditions. It may be said that to the same extent to which the patient wishes back his appetite the physician has effectively employed measures to restore it. Hence we have not a few remedies which are specially named “gastric tonics,” and whose action is to promote appetite. Unfortunately medical science has latterly deviated from this, the correct treatment of the appetite, and that which corresponds to the real conditions. If one reads current text-books on disorders of digestion, it is remarkable how little attention is paid to appetite as a symptom or to its special therapy. Only in a few of them is its importance indicated, and then merely in short, parenthetic phrases. On the other hand, one may meet statements in which the physician is recommended to adopt no special means for counteracting so unimportant a subjective symptom as a bad appetite! After what I have said and demonstrated to you in these lectures, one can only designate such views as gross misconceptions. If anywhere, it is precisely here that symptomatic treatment is essential. When the physician finds it necessary, in disorders of digestion, to promote secretory activity by different remedies, this object can most certainly and completely be achieved by endeavouring to restore the appetite. We have already seen that no other excitant of gastric secretion, so far as quantity and quality of the juice are concerned, can compare with the passionate craving for food.

To a certain degree we can understand—and this contributes to an explanation of matters—how medical science of our time has come to regard so lightly the loss of appetite as a special object for treatment. Now, however, the experimental method has penetrated more and more into medical science, with the result that many pathological factors and therapeutic agents are judged of according to whether they hold good in the laboratory or not—that is to say, they are valued only in so far as they can be verified by laboratory experiments. Naturally we do not doubt that a movement in this direction indicates a great advance, but even here, as with every undertaking of mankind, things do not proceed without mistakes and exaggerations. We must not consider an event to be a mere picture of the imagination because it is not realisable under given experimental conditions. We often do not know all the essential conditions for the production of the phenomenon in question, nor are we yet able to grasp the connection between all the separate functions of life as fully as may be desired. Thus in the clinical treatment and pathology of digestion assistance was sought for in the laboratory, but nothing was there met with which had a relation to appetite, and consequently this factor was overlooked in medical practice. As stated above, the psychic gastric juice obtained only cursory mention in physiology, and this not even by all authors; and when it was noticed it was related more as a curiosity. Great importance was, on the other hand, assigned to the mechanical stimulus, the efficiency of which, now that our knowledge is more complete, has been shown to be purely imaginary. Each of the contending factors has at length been assigned its proper place, and if clinical medicine maintains her worthy desire of following out the experimental investigation of her problems, she must in actual practice accord to appetite its old claim for consideration and treatment.

But notwithstanding the indifference of physicians to appetite in itself, many therapeutic measures are based on the promotion of it. And in this the truth of empiricism makes itself irresistibly felt. When the patient is enjoined to eat sparingly, or when he is restrained from eating at all till the physician expressly permits, or again, when he is (for instance, during convalescence) removed from his ordinary surroundings and sent to an establishment where the whole life, and particularly the eating, is regulated according to physiological needs—in all these cases the physician seeks to awaken appetite, and relies upon it as a factor in the cure. In the first case, where the food is prescribed in small portions, in addition to preventing the overfilling of a weak stomach, the oft-recurrence of appetite juice, which is so rich in quantity and so strong in digestive power, is of great importance. I ask you here to call to mind one of our experiments in which food was given in small portions to a dog, and thus led to a secretion of much stronger juice than if the whole ration had been eaten at once. This was an exact experimental reproduction of the customary treatment of a weak stomach. And such a regulation of diet is all the more necessary, since, in the commonest disorders of the stomach, only the surface layers of the mucous membrane are affected. It may, consequently, happen that the sensory surface of the stomach, which should take up the stimulus of the chemical excitant, is not able to fulfil its duty, and the period of chemical secretion, which ordinarily lasts for a long time, is for the most part disturbed, or even wholly absent. A strong psychic excitation, a keen feeling of appetite, may evoke the secretory impulse in the central nervous system and send it unhindered to the glands which lie in the deeper as yet unaffected layers of the mucous membrane.

An instance of this, taken from the pathological material of the laboratory, I have already related at the beginning of this lecture. It is obvious in these cases that the indication is to promote digestion by exciting a flow of appetite juice, and not to rely upon that excited by chemical stimuli. From this point of view the meaning of removing a patient, the subject of chronic weakness of the stomach, from his customary surroundings is also plain. Take, for instance, a mentally overstrained individual, or a responsible official; how often does it happen that he cannot for a moment distract his thoughts from his daily work. He eats without noticing it, or eats and carries on his work at the same time. This often happens, particularly in the case of people who live in the midst of the incessant turmoil of great cities. The systematic inattention to the act of eating prepares the way for digestive disturbances in the near future, with all their consequences. There is no appetite juice, no “igniting juice,” or, at most, very little. The secretory activity comes slowly into play; the food remains much longer in the digestive canal than is necessary, or passes, for want of sufficient digestive juices, into a state of decomposition which irritates the mucous membrane of the alimentary canal and brings it into a condition of disease. No medicinal treatment can help such a patient while he remains surrounded by his old conditions. The fundamental cause of his illness still continues in progress. There is only one course to pursue; namely, to take him completely away, to free him from his occupation, to interrupt the interminable train of thought, and to substitute for a time, as his only object in life, the care of his health, and a regard for what he eats. This is attained by sending the patient to travel, or by placing him in a hydropathic establishment. It is the duty of the physician to regulate not only the life of individual patients according to such rules, but also to have a care that in wider circles of the community a due conception of the importance of eating should be disseminated. This is particularly so with the Russian physician. It is precisely in the so-called intelligent classes of Russians that a proper conception of life generally is often found wanting, and where an absolutely unphysiological indifference towards eating often exists. More methodical nations, like the English, have made a species of cult of the art of eating. It is, of course, degrading to indulge excessively and exclusively in culinary enjoyments, but, on the other hand, a lofty contempt for eating is also reprehensible. As so often is the case, the best course here also lies between the two extremes.

With the establishment of mental effect upon the secretion of juice the influence of condiments enters upon a new phase. The conclusion had already been empirically arrived at that it was not alone sufficient for the food to be composed exclusively of nutrient substances, but that it should also be tasty. Now, however, we know why this is so. For this reason the physician, who has often to express an opinion upon the suitability of the dietaries of different persons, or even of whole communities, should constantly bear in mind the question of psychic secretion; that is to say, he should inquire after and learn how the food has been eaten, whether with or without enjoyment. But how often do the people who have charge of the commissariat pay attention solely to the nutritive value of the food, or place a higher value on everything else than taste? We must, further, in the interest of the public weal, direct attention especially to the feeding of children. If this or that inclination of the taste ultimately determines the relation of grown-up individuals towards food, a matter with which the commencing phase of digestion is closely linked, it would seem undesirable to habituate children solely to a nicety and uniformity of gustatory sensations. Such might effect their capabilities of adapting themselves to other conditions in after life.

The question of the therapeutic influence of the so-called bitters, it appears to me, bears the closest connection with that of appetite. After a long period of high repute these substances have been almost expelled from the list of pharmaceutic remedies. When tested in the laboratory, they were unable to justify their old and valued reputation; when directly introduced into the stomach, many of them were unable to produce a flow of gastric juice. Consequently, in the eyes of the clinician, they became greatly discredited, so that many were quite ready to discard their use altogether. Obviously, the simple conclusion was drawn that a weak digestion could only be assisted by a remedy which directly excites secretory activity. In this, however, it was forgotten that the conditions of the experiment possibly had not corresponded with the actual state of affairs. The whole question of the therapeutic importance of the bitters, however, acquires a different significance when we link it with another question, such, for instance, as how do bitters affect the appetite? It is the universal opinion of the earlier and later physicians that bitters increase the appetite, and if this be so everything is said. They are, in consequence, real secretory stimulants, since the appetite, as has many times been repeated in these lectures, is the strongest of all stimuli to the digestive glands. It is, however, not by any means strange that this had not previously been observed in the laboratory. The substances were either introduced directly into the stomachs of normal dogs or else injected into the circulation. But their action is chiefly bound up with their effect upon the gustatory nerves, and it was not, therefore, without some reason that this large group of remedies, consisting of substances of the most varied chemical composition, were grouped together mainly on account of a certain bitter taste common to them all. A person who suffers from digestive disturbance has, moreover, a blunted taste, a certain degree of gustatory indifference. The ordinary foods, which are agreeable to other people, and also to himself when in health, now appear tasteless. They not only arouse no desire for eating, but may even cause a feeling of dislike; there is no sense of taste, or at best a perverse one. It is necessary, therefore, that the gustatory apparatus should receive a strong stimulus in order to restore a normal sensation. As experience teaches, this object is most quickly attained by exciting sharp, unpleasant, gustatory impressions, which by contrast awaken the idea of pleasant ones. In either case there is no longer indifference, and this is the foundation upon which an appetite for this or that kind of food may be awakened, and here a general physiological law is illustrated. The light appears brighter after darkness, a sound louder after silence, the enjoyment of blithesome health more intense after illness, and so on. This explanation of the appetising effects of bitters proceeding from the mouth does not exclude the possibility of some such similar influence coming also from the stomach. As has been already stated in the fifth lecture, there is some reason for believing that certain impulses from the cavity of the stomach are likewise necessary for the excitation of appetite. It is possible that bitters not only act directly on the gustatory nerves in the mouth, but that they also act on the mucous membrane of the stomach in such a way that sensations are generated which contribute to the passionate craving for food. As a matter of fact, it has been confirmed by many clinicians that after the administration of bitters some such special sensations do arise in the stomach. The effect of these remedies consists, therefore, not merely in the generation of a simple reflex, but in the production of a certain psychic effect, which indirectly excites a physiological secretory activity. The same probably applies to other substances, such as condiments. In any case, whether our explanation corresponds to the actuality or not, the question of the therapeutic effect of bitters is settled in the affirmative the moment we acknowledge that these substances awaken appetite. The problem, therefore, of an experimental investigation of bitters consists in establishing the fact that they have an effect upon the appetite. The question is a difficult one, and has not hitherto been attempted in the laboratory. It is not sufficient to hand over clinical observations to the laboratory as experimental proofs. One must have, in addition, the assurance that the investigation has been correctly carried out; that is to say, that it dealt exactly with the point under consideration. It is interesting to observe that the connection between appetite and gastric juice is by many physicians, and in many text-books of medicine, exactly reversed. Thus it is represented that some medicinal remedy calls forth a secretion of gastric juice, and this, by its presence in the stomach, awakens an appetite. Here we have to deal with a false explanation of a true fact, and that because it was not recognised that a psychic effect could by any possibility be a powerful excitant of secretory nerves. The customs of the chief meal of the day also correspond with our physiological results. After this or that hors d’œuvre, perhaps also with a liqueur of brandy (especially customary in Russia), both of which are designed to awaken the appetite, the repast proper begins, and, in the majority of cases, with something hot, consisting mostly of meat broth (bouillon, different soups, and so on). After this comes the really nourishing food—meat of different kinds served in various ways, or, in the case of poorer people, stews made with vegetables, and therefore rich in carbohydrate material. This sequence of foods, from the standpoint of physiology, is quite rational. Meat broth, as we have already seen, is an important chemical excitant of gastric secretion. An attempt is therefore made in two ways to secure a free secretion of gastric juice to act on the chief food; first, in the excitement of the appetite juice by the hors d’œuvre, and secondly, in the promotion of the flow by the action of the meat broth. It is in this way that human instinct has made provisions for the digestion of the chief meal. A good meat broth can only be afforded by well-to-do people, and consequently with the poorer classes a less expensive, and, indeed, also a less effective, chemical excitant is used for awakening the early secretion. For example, kwas[31] serves in this way with the Russian population, while in Germany, where the price of meat is high, different kinds of soups are used, consisting of water mixed with flour, bread, etc. It is further to be borne in mind that the quantity of the digestive juices in general stands in close connection with the content of water in the organism. This has been shown by the experiments of Dr. Walther for the pancreatic juice, and by my own for the gastric juice. If this sequence of foods, therefore, holds good for healthy people, it must be even more strictly adhered to in pathological conditions. Thus, when a person has no appetite, or only a weak one, he has no psychic juice or only very little; consequently, the meal must in every case be begun with a strong chemical excitant—for example, with a solution of the extractives of flesh. Otherwise solid foods, particularly if they do not consist of meat, would remain long in the stomach without any digestion whatever. It is, therefore, in every way desirable to prescribe meat juice, strong broth, or meat extract to people who have no appetite. The same applies also to forced feeding, for instance, of the insane. It is true that the method of introduction in this case necessarily secures the presence of a chemical excitant, since the food can only be introduced in a fluid form. In any case the addition of meat extract would be very useful. If one arranged the ordinary fluid foods in descending order, according to the influence of the chemical excitants, the following would be the series: first, the preparations of the flesh, such as meat juice and the like; secondly, milk; thirdly, water.

The usual termination of the repast is also, from the physiological standpoint, easy to be understood. The chief meal is generally ended with something sweet, and everybody knows that sweets are pleasant. The meaning of this is easy to guess. The repast, begun with pleasure, consequent on the pressing need for food, must also, notwithstanding the stilling of hunger, be terminated with an agreeable sensation. At the same time the digestive canal must not be burdened with work at this stage; it is only the gustatory nerves which should be agreeably excited. After thus dealing in general with the usual arrangement of our meals, we may now speak of some special points.

Above all comes the acid reaction of the food. It is apparent that acidity enjoys a special preference in the human taste. We use quite a number of acid substances. Thus, for example, one of the commonest seasoning substances is vinegar, which figures in a number of sauces and such like. Further, many kinds of wine have a somewhat acid taste. In Russia, kwas, especially in the acid form, is consumed in great quantities. Moreover, acid fruits and green vegetables are used as food, and they are either of themselves acid, or made so in the preparation. In medicine this instinct is likewise often made use of, and acid solutions, especially of hydrochloric and phosphoric acids, are prescribed in digestive disturbances. Finally, Nature itself constantly endeavours to prepare lactic acid in the stomach in addition to the hydrochloric acid. The former arises from the food introduced, and is consequently always present. These facts are all physiologically comprehensible when we know that an acid reaction is not only necessary for an efficient action of the peptic ferment, but is at the same time the strongest excitant of the pancreatic gland. It is even conceivable that in certain cases the whole digestion may depend upon the stimulating properties of acids, since the pancreatic juice exerts a ferment action upon all the constituents of the food. In this way acids may either assist digestion in the stomach where too little gastric juice is present, or bring about vicarious digestion by the pancreas where it is wholly absent. It is easy, therefore, to understand why the Russian peasant enjoys his kwas with bread. The enormous quantity of starch which he consumes, either as bread or porridge, demands a greater activity upon the part of the pancreatic gland, and this is directly brought about by the acid. Further, in certain affections of the stomach, associated with loss of appetite, we make use of acids, both from instinct as well as medical direction, the explanation being that they excite an increased activity of the pancreatic gland, and thus supplement the weak action of the stomach. It appears to me that a knowledge of the special relations of acids to the pancreas ought to be very useful in medicine, since it brings the gland—a digestive organ at once so powerful and so difficult of access—under the control of the physician. We could, for instance, intentionally discard digestion in the stomach, and thus transfer it to the bowel, by prescribing substances which do not excite the gastric glands. On the other hand, by lessening the acidity of the gastric juice we could reduce the activity of the pancreas, and these are matters which might be made use of in various special diseases, or even in some general disturbances of the digestive apparatus.

No less instructive is a comparison of the results of our experiments upon fat, with the demands of instinct and also with the precepts of dietetics and therapeutics. Everybody knows that fatty foods are heavy, that is, difficult of digestion, and in the case of weak stomachs they are usually avoided. We are now in a position to understand this physiologically. The existence of fat in large quantities in the chyme restrains in its own interest the further secretion of gastric juice, and thus impedes the digestion of proteid substances; consequently, a combination of fat and proteid-holding foods is particularly difficult to digest, and can only be borne by those who have good stomachs and keen appetites. The combination of bread and butter is less difficult, as might a priori be inferred from its wide employment. Bread requires for itself, especially when calculated per unit, but little gastric juice and but little acid, while the fat which excites the pancreatic gland insures a rich production of ferment both for itself and also for the starch and proteid of bread. Fat alone does not count by any means as a heavy food, as may be seen from the fact that large quantities of lard are consumed in certain districts of Russia with impunity. This also is comprehensible, since the inhibitory influence of the fat in this case does not prevent the digestion of any other food-stuff, and is conducive to the assimilation of the fat itself. There is no struggle in this case between the several food constituents, and therefore no one of them suffers. In harmony also with daily experience the physician, in cases of weakness of the stomach, totally excludes fatty food and recommends meat of a fat-free kind; for example, game, etc. In pathological cases, however, where an excessive activity of the gastric glands is manifested, fatty food, or fat as emulsion, is prescribed. And here medicine has empirically brought to its aid the restraining action of fat, which we have so strikingly seen in our experiments.