of taste, at least as a necessary adjunct.

All sapid bodies are necessarily odorous, and therefore belong as
well to the empire of the one as of the other sense.

We eat nothing without seeing this, more or less plainly. The nose
plays the part of sentinel, and always cries "WHO GOES THERE?"

Close the nose, and the taste is paralyzed; a thing proved by
three experiments any one can make:

1. When the nasal membrane is irritated by a violent coryza (cold
in the head) the taste is entirely obliterated. There is no taste
in anything we swallow, yet the tongue is in its normal state.

2. If we close the nose when we eat, we are amazed to see how
obscure and imperfect the sense of touch is. The most disgusting
medicines thus are swallowed almost without taste.

3. The same effect is observed if, as soon as we have swallowed,
instead of restoring the tongue to its usual place, it be kept
detached from the palate. Thus the circulation of the air is
intercepted, the organs of smell are not touched, and there is no
taste.

These effects have the same cause, from the fact that the sense of
smell does not co-operate with the taste. The sapid body is
appreciated only on account of the juice, and not for the odorous
gas which emanates from it.