------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE
LOGIC OF VEGETARIANISM
------------------------------------------------------------------------
UNIFORM WITH THE PRESENT VOLUME.
=IN TUNE WITH THE INFINITE=, or Fulness
of Peace, Power, and Plenty. By RALPH
WALDO TRINE. 105th Thousand. 3s. 6d. net.
=WHAT ALL THE WORLD'S A-SEEKING.=
By RALPH WALDO TRINE. 35th Thousand in
England and America. 3s. 6d. net.
=THE UNIVERSAL KINSHIP.= By J. HOWARD
MOORE. Interpreting the kinship between
man and the subhuman races, and showing
there is a relationship—physical, psychical,
and ethical—between all species of animals,
whether they swim, fly, crawl, or walk.
4s. 6d. net.
=MIND POWER.= By ALBERT B. OLSTON.
Third English Edition. 4s. 6d. net.
=One of the most striking books of the age.=
=THE CONQUEST OF DEATH.= By HELEN
WILMANS. 3s. 6d. net.
=LIMITLESS MAN.= By HELEN WILMANS.
262 pp., 3s. 6d. net.
=THE WILL TO BE WELL.= By CHARLES
BRODIE PATTERSON. 3s. 6d. net.
=DOMINION AND POWER.= Studies in
Spiritual Science. By CHARLES BRODIE
PATTERSON. 3s. 6d. net.
=THE FOOD OF THE FUTURE.= A Summary
of Arguments in Favour of a Non-Flesh Diet.
By C. W. FORWARD. With Preface by
ERNEST BELL. 1s. 6d. net.
=THE LOGIC OF VEGETARIANISM.= By
HENRY S. SALT. 1s. 6d. net.
* * * * *
LONDON: GEORGE BELL & SONS
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE
LOGIC OF VEGETARIANISM
_ESSAYS AND DIALOGUES_
BY
HENRY S. SALT
AUTHOR OF
"ANIMALS' RIGHTS, CONSIDERED IN RELATION TO SOCIAL PROGRESS"
_SECOND EDITION, REVISED_
LONDON
GEORGE BELL AND SONS
YORK HOUSE, PORTUGAL STREET
1906
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE MORALIST AT THE SHAMBLES.
Where slaughter'd beasts lie quivering, pile on pile,
And bare-armed fleshers, bathed in bloody dew,
Ply hard their ghastly trade, and hack and hew,
And mock sweet Mercy's name, yet loathe the while
The lot that chains them to this service vile,
Their hands in hideous carnage to imbrue:
Lo, there!—the preacher of the Good and True,
The Moral Man, with sanctimonious smile!
"Thrice happy beasts," he murmurs, "'tis our love,
Our thoughtful love that sends ye to the knife
(Nay, doubt not, as ye welter in your gore!);
For thus alone ye earned the boon of life,
And thus alone the Moralist may prove
His sympathetic soul—by eating more."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PREFACE
In preparing this "Logic of Vegetarianism" for a new edition, I have
carefully re-read a sheaf of press opinions which greeted the first
appearance of the book some seven years ago, with the hope of profiting
by any adverse criticism which might point out arguments that I had
overlooked. In this, however, I have been disappointed, for, apart from
a few such objections as that raised in all seriousness by the
_Spectator_—that I had not done justice to the great problem of what
would become of the Esquimaux—the only definite complaint which I can
find is that the representatives of flesh-eating whom I have introduced
in the dialogues are deliberately made to talk nonsense. "It is easy,"
said one critic, "to confute an opponent if you have the selection of
the arguments and the framing of the replies."
I ought not, perhaps, to have expected that the assurance given in my
introductory chapter (p. 2) as to the authenticity of the
anti-vegetarian pleadings would shield me from this charge; indeed, the
_Vegetarian Messenger_, in a friendly review of the book, expressed
doubt as to the policy of using dialogue at all, because, as it
remarked, "the arguments against vegetarianism are often so silly that
it looks as if the author had set up a man of straw in order to demolish
him." Yet, as the _Messenger_ itself added, "there is not an argument
against vegetarianism quoted in this volume which we have not, time
after time, seen seriously brought forward by our opponents." Surely it
would be a strange thing if food reformers had to avoid any terse
presentment of their adversaries' reasoning for the very fact of its
imbecility!
And there is this further question. If I have failed to include in my
selection the effective arguments against vegetarianism, where and what
are they? Looking through those cited in the press notices, I can
discover none that seem to be formidable; but rather than again be
suspected of unfair suppression, let me frankly quote the following
specimens of the beef-eater's philosophy:
"The proof that man should eat meat is that he always has done
so, does now, and always will."
And again:
"Nobody will want to make out that he (the advocate of
vegetarianism) is wrong, but folk will just go on suiting
themselves as before. Shelley and Thoreau, Wagner and Edward
FitzGerald, were vegetarians, but, then, Wellington and
Gladstone partook of the roast beef of Old England, and were
none the worse."
There is a sublime simplicity about these statements which is most
impressive, but I cannot think that any wrong is done to the case
against vegetarianism by not including them in a discussion which
purports to be a logical one.
H. S. S.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE v
INTRODUCTORY 1
WHY "VEGETARIAN"? 4
THE _RAISON D'ÊTRE_ OF VEGETARIANISM 9
THE PAST AND PRESENT OF VEGETARIANISM 13
STRUCTURAL EVIDENCE 18
THE APPEAL TO NATURE 24
THE HUMANITARIAN ARGUMENT 29
PALLIATIONS AND SOPHISTRIES 35
THE CONSISTENCY TRICK 41
THE DEGRADATION OF THE BUTCHER 47
THE ÆSTHETIC ARGUMENT 51
THE HYGIENIC ARGUMENT 57
DIGESTION 62
CONDITIONS OF CLIMATE 67
FLESH MEAT AND MORALS 71
THE ECONOMIC ARGUMENT 77
DOUBTS AND DIFFICULTIES 83
BIBLE AND BEEF 89
THE FLESH-EATER'S KITH AND KIN 95
VEGETARIANISM AS RELATED TO OTHER 101
REFORMS
CONCLUSION 109
INDEX 115
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE
LOGIC OF VEGETARIANISM
INTRODUCTORY
It is the special purpose of this book to set forth in a clear and
rational manner the logic of vegetarianism. To the ethical, the
scientific, and the economic aspects of the system much attention has
already been given by well-accredited writers, but there has not as yet
been any organised effort to present the _logical_ view—that is, the
dialectical scope of the arguments, offensive and defensive, on which
the case for vegetarianism is founded. I am aware that mere logic is not
in itself a matter of first-rate importance, and that a great humane
principal, based on true natural instinct, will in the long-run have
fulfilment, whatever wordy battles may rage around it for a time;
nevertheless, there is no better method of hastening that result than to
set the issues before the public in a plain and unmistakable light. I
wish, therefore, in this work, to show what vegetarianism is, and (a
scarcely less essential point) what vegetarianism is _not_.
For though, owing to the propaganda carried on for the last fifty years,
there has been an increasing talk of vegetarianism, and a considerable
discussion of its doctrines, there are still very numerous
misunderstandings of its real aims and meaning. In this, as in other
phases of the great progressive movement of which vegetarianism is a
part, to give expression to a new idea is to excite a host of blind and
angry prejudices. The champions of the old are too disdainful to take
counsel with the champions of the new; hence they commonly attribute to
them designs quite different from those which they really entertain, and
unconsciously set up a straw man for the pleasure of pummelling him with
criticism. Devoid always of a sense of sympathy, and mostly of a sense
of humour, they absurdly exaggerate the least vital points in their
adversaries' reasoning, while they often fail to note what is the very
core of the controversy. It is therefore of great concern to
vegetarianism that its case should be so stated as to preclude all
possibility of doubt as to the real issues involved. If agreement is
beyond our reach, let us at least ascertain the precise point of our
disagreement.
With a view to this result, it will be convenient to have recourse now
and then to the form of dialogue, so as to bring into sharper contrast
the _pros_ and _cons_ of the argument. Nor will these conversations be
altogether imaginary, for, to avoid any suspicion of burlesquing the
counter-case of our opponents by a fanciful presentment, I shall
introduce only such objections to vegetarianism as have actually been
insisted on—the stock-objections, in fact, which crop up again and again
in all colloquies on food reform—with sometimes the very words of the
flesh-eating disputant. It is not my fault if some of these objections
appear to be foolish. I have often marvelled at the reckless way in
which those who would combat new and unfamiliar notions step forth to
the encounter, unprovided with intellectual safeguards, and trusting
wholly to certain ancient generic fallacies, which, if we may judge from
their appearance in all ages and climates, are indigenous in the human
mind. Many of the difficulties which the flesh-eater to-day propounds to
the vegetarian are the same, _mutatis mutandis_, as those which have at
various times been cast in the teeth of the reformer by the apologists
of every cruel and iniquitous custom, from slave-holding to the suttee.
To show the unreality of these sophisms, by clearing away the
misconceptions upon which they rest, and to state the creed of
vegetarianism as preached and practised by its friends rather than as
misapprehended by its foes—such is the object of this work. To make
"conversions," in the ordinary sense, is not my concern. What we have to
do is to discover who are flesh-eaters by ingrained conviction, and who
by thoughtlessness and ignorance, and to bring over to our side from the
latter class those who are naturally allied to us, though by accident
ranged in opposition. And this, once more, can only be done by making
the issues unmistakable.
Incidentally, I hope these pages may suggest to our antagonists that
vegetarians, perhaps, are not the weak brainless sentimentalists that
they are so often depicted. It is, to say the least of it, entertaining
when a critic who has just been inquiring (for example) "what would
become of the animals" if mankind were to desist from eating them, goes
on to remark of vegetarians that "their hearts are better than their
heads." Alas, we cannot truthfully return the compliment by saying of
such a philosopher that his head is better than his heart! It cannot be
too strongly stated that the appeal of vegetarianism, as of all humane
systems, is not to heart alone, nor to brain alone, but to brain and
heart combined, and that if its claims fail to win this double judgment
they are necessarily void and invalid. The test of logic, no less than
the test of feeling, is deliberately challenged by us; for it is only by
those who can think as well as feel, and feel as well as think, that the
diet question, or indeed any great social question, can ever be brought
to its solution.
WHY "VEGETARIAN"?
The term "vegetarian," as applied to those who abstain from all flesh
food, but not necessarily from such animal products as eggs, milk, and
cheese, appears to have come into existence over fifty years ago, at the
time of the founding of the Vegetarian Society in 1847. Until that date
no special name had been appropriated for the reformed diet system,
which was usually known as the "Pythagorean" or "vegetable diet," as may
be seen by a reference to the writings of that period. Presumably, it
was felt that when the movement grew in volume, and was about to enter
on a new phase, with an organised propaganda, it was advisable to coin
for it an original and distinctive title. Whether, from this point of
view, the name "vegetarian" was wisely or unwisely chosen is a question
on which there has been some difference of opinion among food reformers
themselves, and it is possible that adverse criticism would have been
still more strongly expressed but for the fact that no better title has
been forthcoming.
On the whole, the name "vegetarian" seems to be fairly serviceable, its
disadvantage being that it gives occasion for sophistry on the part of
captious opponents. In all controversies such as that of which
vegetarianism is the subject there are verbalists who cannot see beyond
the outer shell of a word to the thing which the word signifies, and who
delight to chop logic and raise small obstacles, as thus:
VERBALIST: Why "vegetarian"?
VEGETARIAN: Why not "vegetarian"?
VERBALIST: How can it be consistent with vegetarianism to
consume, as you admit you do, milk, butter, cheese, and eggs,
all of which are choice foods from the animal kingdom?
VEGETARIAN: That entirely depends on what is meant by
"vegetarianism."
VERBALIST: Well, surely its meaning is obvious—a diet of
vegetables only, with no particle of animal substance.
VEGETARIAN: As a matter of fact, such is not, and has never
been, its accepted meaning. The question was often debated in
the early years of the Vegetarian Society, and it was always
held that the use of eggs and milk was _not_ prohibited. "To
induce habits of abstinence from the flesh of animals (fish,
flesh, fowl) as food" was the avowed aim of vegetarianism, as
officially stated on the title-page of its journal.
VERBALIST: But the word "vegetarian"—what other meaning can it
have than that which I have attributed to it?
VEGETARIAN: Presumably those who invented the word were the best
judges of its meaning, and what they meant by it is proved
beyond a doubt by the usage of the Society.
VERBALIST: But had they a right thus to twist the word from its
natural derivation?
VEGETARIAN: If you appeal to etymology, that raises another
question altogether, and here, too, you will find the
authorities against you. No one has a better right to speak on
this matter than Professor J. E. B. Mayor, the great Latin
scholar, and he states that, looking at the word etymologically,
"vegetarian" cannot mean "an eater of vegetables." It is derived
from _vegetus_, "vigorous," and means, strictly interpreted,
"one who aims at vigour." Mind, I am not saying that the
originators of the term "vegetarian" had this meaning in view,
but merely that the etymological sense of the word does not
favour your contention any more than the historical.
VERBALIST: Well, what _does_ "vegetarian" mean, then? How do you
explain it yourself?
VEGETARIAN: A "vegetarian" is one who abstains from eating the
flesh of animals, and whose food is _mainly_ derived from the
vegetable kingdom.
The above dialogue will show the absurdity and injustice of charging
vegetarians, as the late Sir Henry Thompson did, with "equivocal terms,
evasion—in short, untruthfulness," because they retain a title which was
originally invented for their case. The statement that vegetarians have
_changed_ the meaning of their name, owing to inability to find adequate
nourishment on purely vegetable diet, is founded on similar ignorance of
the facts. Here are two specimens of Sir Henry Thompson's inaccuracy. In
1885 he wrote:
"It is high time that we should be spared the obscure language,
or rather the inaccurate statement, to which milk and egg
consumers are committed, in assuming a title which has for
centuries belonged to that not inconsiderable body of persons
whose habits of life confer the right to use it."[1]
Footnote 1:
_Nineteenth Century_, May, 1885.
Observe that Sir Henry Thompson was then under the impression that the
name "vegetarian" (invented in 1847) was "centuries" old! Nor, names
apart, was he any more accurate as regards the practice itself, for it
can be proved on the authority of a long succession of writers, from the
time of Ovid to the time of Shelley, that the use of milk and its
products has been from the first regarded as compatible with the
Pythagorean or "vegetable" diet. The fact that some individual
abstainers from flesh have also abstained from all animal substances is
no justification of the attempt to impose such stricter abstinence on
all vegetarians on peril of being deprived of their name.
Thirteen years later Sir Henry Thompson's argument was entirely changed.
His assertion of the _antiquity_ of the name "vegetarian" was quietly
dropped; in fact, its _novelty_ was now rather insisted on.
"They (the "vegetarians") emphatically state that they no longer
rely for their diet on the produce of the vegetable kingdom,
differing from those who originally adopted the name at a date
by no means remote."[2]
Footnote 2:
_Ibid._, June, 1898.
But our critic was again absolutely mistaken. There is no
difference whatever between the diet of those who adopted the
name at the date by no means remote and that of those who bear
it now. Now, as then, there are some few vegetarians who abjure
all that is of the animal, but the rule of the Society now, as
then, is that the use of eggs and milk is permissible. At the
third annual meeting, held in 1850, it was stated by one of the
speakers that "the limits within which the dietary of the
Vegetarian Society was restricted excluded nothing but the flesh
and blood of animals."
To avoid any possible misunderstanding, let me repeat that it is
no part of the case for vegetarianism to defend the _name_
"vegetarian" in itself; it may be a good name or a bad one. What
we defend is our right to the title, an indefeasible historical
claim which is not to be upset by any such unfounded and
self-contradictory assertions as those quoted.
But it may be said that even if the title is historically
genuine, it would be better to change it, as it evidently leads
to misunderstanding. We should be perfectly willing to do this,
but for two difficulties: first, that no other satisfactory
title has ever been suggested, and secondly that, as the word
"vegetarian" has now a recognised place in the language, it
would scarcely be possible to get rid of it; at any rate, the
substitute, to have the least chance of success, would have to
be very terse, popular, and expressive. Take, for example, the
name "flesh-abstainer," or "akreophagist," proposed by Sir Henry
Thompson. The obvious objection to such terms is that they are
merely _negative_, and give the notion that we are abstinents
and nothing more. We do not at all object to the use of the term
"flesh-abstainer" as explanatory of "vegetarian," but we do
object to it as a substitute, for as such it would give undue
prominence to our disuse of flesh food, which, after all, is
merely one particular result of a general habit of mind. Let us
state it in this way: Our view of life is such that flesh-eating
is abhorrent and impossible to us; but the mere fact that this
abstinence attracts the special attention of flesh-eaters, and
becomes the immediate subject of controversy, does not make it
the sum and substance of our creed. We hold that in a rational
and humanised society there could be no question at all about
such a practice as flesh-eating; the very idea of it would be
insufferable. Therefore we object to be labelled with a negative
term which only marks our divergence from other persons' diet;
we prefer something that is positive and indicative of our own.
And until we find some more appropriate title, we intend to make
the best of what we have got.
The whole "Why 'vegetarian'?" argument is, in fact, a
disingenuous one. The practical issue between "vegetarians" and
flesh-eaters has always been perfectly clear to those who wished
to understand it, and the attempt made by the verbalists to
distract attention from the _thing_ in order to fasten it on the
_name_ is nothing but sophistical. Of this main practical issue,
and of the further distinction between the "vegetarian" or
flesh-abstaining diet and the purely vegetable diet, I will
speak in the following chapter.
THE _RAISON D'ÊTRE_ OF VEGETARIANISM
Behind the mere name of the reformed diet, whatever name be
employed (and, as we have seen, "vegetarian" at present holds
the field), lies the far more important reality. What is the
_raison d'être_, the real purport of vegetarianism? Certainly
not any _a priori_ assumption that all animal substances, as
such, are unfit for human food; for though it is quite probable
that the movement will ultimately lead us to the disuse of
animal products, vegetarianism is not primarily based on any
such hard-and-fast formula, but on the conviction, suggested in
the first place by instinctive feeling, but confirmed by reason
and experience, that there are certain grave evils inseparable
from the practice of flesh-eating. The aversion to flesh food is
not chemical, but moral, social, hygienic. Believing as we do
that the grosser forms of diet not only cause a vast amount of
unnecessary suffering to the animals, but also react most
injuriously on the health and morals of mankind, we advocate
their gradual discontinuance; and so long as this protest is
successfully launched, the mere name by which it is called is a
matter of minor concern. But here on this practical issue, as
before on the nominal issue, we come into conflict with the
superior person who, with a smile of supercilious compassion,
cannot see _why_ we poor ascetics should thus afflict ourselves
without cause.
SUPERIOR PERSON: But why, my dear sir—why should you
refuse a slice of roast beef? What is the difference
between roasting an ox and boiling an egg? In the latter
case you are eating an animal in embryo—that is all.
VEGETARIAN: Do you not draw any distinction between the
lower and the higher organisation?
SUPERIOR PERSON: None whatever. They are chemically
identical in substance.
VEGETARIAN: Possibly; but we were talking, not of
chemistry, but of morals, and an egg is certainly not
morally identical with an ox.
SUPERIOR PERSON: How or where does the moral phase of
food-taking enter the science of dietetics?
VEGETARIAN: At a good many points, I think. One of them
is the question of cannibalism. Allow me to read you a
passage from the "Encyclopædia Britannica": "Man being
by nature {?} carnivorous as well as frugivorous, and
human flesh being not unfit for human food, the question
arises why mankind generally have not only avoided it,
but have looked with horror on exceptional individuals
and races addicted to cannibalism. It is evident on
consideration that both emotional and religious motives
must have contributed to bring about this prevailing
state of mind."
SUPERIOR PERSON: Of course. Why read me all that?
VEGETARIAN: To show you that what you call "the moral
phase of food-taking" has undoubtedly affected our diet.
The very thought of eating human flesh is revolting to
you. Yet human flesh is chemically identical with animal
flesh, and if it be true that to boil an egg is the same
thing as to roast an ox, it follows that to butcher
an ox is the same thing as to murder a man. Such is
the logical position in which you have placed yourself
by ignoring the fact that all life is not _equally_
valuable, but that the higher the life the greater the
responsibility incurred by those who destroy it.
Or it may be that the superior person, instead of denying that
morals affect dietetics, himself poses as so austere a moralist
as to scorn the wretched half-measure of merely abstaining from
flesh food while still using animal products. The result is in
either case the same. The all-or-nothing argument is sometimes
put forward in this fashion:
SUPERIOR PERSON: Well, as far as the right or wrong of
the question is concerned, I would not care to be a
vegetarian at all, unless I were a thorough one. What
can be the good of forswearing animal food in one form
if you take it in another?
VEGETARIAN: But surely it is rational to deal with the
worst abuses first. To insist on an all-or-nothing
policy would be fatal to any reform whatsoever.
Improvements never come in the mass, but always by
instalment; and it is only reactionists who deny that
half a loaf is better than no bread.
SUPERIOR PERSON: But in this case I understand that
it is quite possible to be consistent. There are
individuals, are there not, who live upon a purely
vegetable diet, without using milk or eggs? Now,
those are the people whose action one can at least
appreciate and respect.
VEGETARIAN: Quite so. We fully admit that they are in
advance of their fellows. We regard them as pioneers,
who are now anticipating a future phase of our movement.
SUPERIOR PERSON: You admit, then, that this extreme
vegetarianism is the more ideal diet?
VEGETARIAN: Yes. To do more than you have undertaken to
do is a mark of signal merit; but no discredit attaches
on that account to those who have done what they
undertook. We hold that "the first step," as Tolstoy has
expressed it, is to clear one's self of all complicity
in the horrible business of the slaughter-house.
SUPERIOR PERSON: Well, I must repeat that, were I to
practise any form of asceticism, I should incline to
that which does not do things by halves.
VEGETARIAN: Of course. That is invariably the sentiment
of those who do not do things at all.
Asceticism! such is the strange idea with which, in many minds,
our principles are associated. It would be impossible to take a
more erroneous view of modern vegetarianism; and it is only
through constitutional or deliberate blindness to the meaning of
the movement that such a misconception can arise. How can we
convey to our flesh-eating friends, in polite yet sufficiently
forcible language, that their diet is an abomination to us, and
that our "abstinence," far from being ascetic, is much more
nearly allied to the joy that never palls? Is the farmer an
ascetic because, looking over into his evil-smelling pigsty, he
has no inclination to swill himself from the same trough as the
swine? And why, then, should it be counted asceticism on our
part to refuse, on precisely the same grounds, to eat the swine
themselves? No; our opponents must clearly recognise, if they
wish to form any correct notion of vegetarianism, that it
is based, not on asceticism, but æstheticism; not on the
mortification, but the gratification of the higher pleasures.
We conclude, then, that the cause which vegetarians have at
heart is the outcome, not of some barren academic formula, but
of a practical reasoned conviction that flesh food, especially
butchers' meat, is a harmful and barbarous diet. Into the
details of this belief we need not at present enter; it has been
sufficient here to show that such belief exists, and that the
good people who can see in vegetarianism nothing but a whimsical
"fad" have altogether failed to grasp its true purport and
significance. The _raison d'être_ of vegetarianism is the
growing sense that flesh-eating is a cruel, disgusting,
unwholesome, and wasteful practice, and that it behoves humane
and rational persons, disregarding the common cant about
"consistency" and "all-or-nothing," to reform their diet to what
extent and with what speed they can.
THE PAST AND PRESENT OF
VEGETARIANISM
But, it may be said, before entering on a consideration of
this reformed diet, for which such great merits are claimed by
its exponents, the practical man is justified in asking for
certain solid assurances, since busy people cannot be expected
to give their time to speculations which, however beautiful in
themselves, may prove at the end to be in conflict with the
hard facts of life. And the first of these questions is, What
is the historic basis of vegetarianism? In what sense is it an
old movement, and in what sense a new one? Has it a past which
may serve in some measure to explain its present and guarantee
its future?
Such questions have been dealt with fully from time to time in
vegetarian literature.[3] I can here do no more than epitomise
the answers. Vegetarianism, regarded simply as a practice and
without relation to any principle, is of immemorial date; it
was, in fact, as physiology shows us, the original diet of
mankind, while, as history shows us, it has always been the diet
of the many, as flesh food has been the diet of the few, and
even to this day it is the main support of the greater part of
the world's inhabitants. Numberless instances might be quoted in
proof of these assertions; it is sufficient to refer to the
people of India, China, and Japan, the Egyptian fellah, the
Bedouin Arab, the peasantry of Russia and Turkey, the labourers
and miners of Chili and other South American States; and, to
come nearer home, the great bulk of the country folk in Western
Europe and Great Britain. The peasant, here and all the world
over, has been, and still is, in the main a vegetarian, and must
for the most part continue so; and the fact that this diet has
been the result, not of choice, but of necessity, does not
lessen the significance of its perfect sufficiency to maintain
those who do the hard work of the world. Side by side with the
tendency of the wealthier classes to indulge more and more in
flesh food has been the undisputed admission that for the
workers such luxuries were unneeded.
Footnote 3:
As in "The Perfect Way in Diet," by Dr. Anna Kingsford; and
"Strength and Diet," by the Hon. R. Russell.
During the last half-century, however, as we all know, the
unhealthy and crowded civilisation of great industrial centres
has produced among the urban populations of Europe a craving for
flesh food, which has resulted in their being fed largely on
cheap butchers' meat and offal; while there has grown up a
corresponding belief that we must look almost entirely to a
flesh diet for bodily and mental vigour. It is in protest
against this comparatively new demand for flesh as a necessity
of life that vegetarianism, as a modern organised movement, has
arisen.
Secondly, if we look back for examples of deliberate abstinence
from flesh—that is, of vegetarianism practised as a _principle_
before it was denoted by a name—we find no lack of them in the
history of religious and moral systems and individual lives.
Such abstinence was an essential feature in the teaching of
Buddha and Pythagoras and is still practised in the East on
religious and ceremonial grounds by Brahmins and Buddhists. It
was inculcated in the humanitarian writings of great "pagan"
philosophers, such as Plutarch and Porphyry, whose ethical
precepts, as far as the treatment of the lower animals is
concerned, are still far in advance of modern Christian
sentiment. Again, in the prescribed regimen of certain religious
Orders, such as Benedictines, Trappists, and Carthusians, we
have further unquestionable evidence of the disuse of flesh
food, though in such cases the reason for the abstinence is
ascetic rather than humane. When we turn to the biographies of
individuals, we learn that there have been numerous examples of
what is now called "vegetarianism"—not always consistent,
indeed, or continuous in practice, yet sufficiently so to prove
the entire possibility of the diet, and to remove it from the
category of generous aspiration into that of accomplished
fact.[4]
Footnote 4:
See the list of names cited in Mr. Howard Williams's "Ethics
of Diet," a biographical history of the literature of humane
dietetics from the earliest period to the present day.
But granting that there is historic basis for the vegetarian
system, the question is asked whether, on ethnological evidence,
it does not appear that the dominant races have been for the
most part carnivorous, and the subject races vegetarian—a line
of argument which always appeals strongly to the patriotic
Briton.
PATRIOT: Come, now; it is all very well to talk of
philosophers and poets, and I have no doubt you can
point to such names among the founders of your creed,
but what I ask is, Were the founders of the British
Empire vegetarians? Were any great empires ever founded
by vegetarians? Was Julius Cæsar a vegetarian? Was
Wellington a vegetarian? Can you give me any instance of
vegetarianism as a fighting force?
VEGETARIAN: As regards the rank and file of conquering
armies, there are many such instances, both in ancient
and modern history. The diet of the Roman soldier was
not that of a flesh-eater, and the Roman Empire was
assuredly not won by virtue of flesh-eating, but by
the hardihood which could subsist on simple rations of
wheat, oil, and wine. So, too, the armies which built
up the earlier empires of Egypt and Assyria were, for
the most part, vegetarian. That is to say, while the
rulers and wealthy classes of fighting nations have been
carnivorous, the bulk of the soldiery, drawn from the
frugal peasant class, has been unaccustomed to such
luxuries. The idea that the flesh-eating races have
everywhere subjugated the vegetarians is quite illusory.
PATRIOT: But surely in India the flesh-eating Mohammedan
has always conquered the vegetarian Hindu?
VEGETARIAN: Not by any means always. It took him
centuries of fierce fighting to do so, with all the
advantages of religious fanaticism on his side, as
against an enemy weakened by internal dissension and an
enervating climate. But that Mohammedanism does not
depend on flesh food for its fighting qualities may be
seen from the case of that special ally and favourite of
yours, the Turk. Let me read you what the _Standard_
said of him some twenty years back: "From the day of his
irruption into Europe, the Turk has always proved
himself to be endowed with singularly strong vitality
and energy. As a member of a warlike race, he is without
equal in Europe in health and hardiness. He can live and
fight when soldiers of any other nationality would
starve. His excellent physique, his simple habits, his
abstinence from intoxicating liquors, and his normal
vegetarian diet, enable him to support the greatest
hardships, and to subsist on the scantiest and simplest
food." Have I said enough to show you that vegetarianism
_may_ be a fighting force?
It will be objected, perhaps, that when food reformers claim
these fighting qualities for their diet they are proving just a
little too much for their principles, as, for example, in the
reference to the sanguinary Turk as a practical vegetarian. If
the outcome of vegetarian diet is to be war and massacre, how is
the system any better than that which it fain would supersede?
This brings us back to the starting-point of the present
chapter, the distinction between what may be called the old and
the new vegetarianism. We have seen that, so far as the
common practice is concerned, abstinence from flesh food is
as old as history itself, and that rarer instances may be
cited of practice and principle combined; but when we regard
vegetarianism as a propagandist movement, a conscious endeavour
to benefit not merely the individual man, but human society
itself, we have to recognise that it is a _new_ movement.
From a mere habit of the many, or piety of the few, it has
become a reasoned principle, an organised system, with a name
and nomenclature of its own: in vulgar language, it is an
-_ism_, and, like other kindred -_isms_, a part of the great
humanitarian impulse of the past hundred years.
The significance of this distinction is considerable. Modern
"vegetarianism" is the same, yet not the same, as the "flesh
abstinence" that dates from earlier times—the same in so far as
the actual dietary is concerned, and in some fewer cases the
same in principle, but different altogether in the spirit by
which that principle is informed; and for this reason it would
be ridiculous to judge vegetarianism as a whole by the character
of those races who happen to have been abstainers from flesh,
and who are merely quoted as proving the physical sufficiency of
the diet. In a word, ethnical vegetarianism and ethical
vegetarianism are two very different things.
It has also to be remembered that the modern vegetarian
appeals not to humane instinct only, but to physiological
facts, and that the movement has now become to a very large
extent a scientific and hygienic one, thus again differing
widely from the merely empirical and unconscious vegetarianism
of earlier times. These several aspects of the system will be
reviewed in succeeding chapters; it is enough here to repeat
that vegetarianism as a practice is immemorial, as a precept
is of great antiquity, but as an organised cult is one of the
new revolutionary forces of modern times.
STRUCTURAL EVIDENCE
We have seen, then, that vegetarianism, though new as a
propagandist doctrine, has its historical record; but if we wish
thoroughly to understand its origin, we must go back beyond
history to the more ancient and more durable evidence of the
organic structure of Man. Here we come in conflict with what is,
perhaps, the strangest of the many strange prejudices that
oppose the humane diet—the superstition, so common among the
uneducated, and connived at, if not shared, by some of the
"scientific" themselves, that the verdict of comparative anatomy
is fatal to the vegetarian claims. So far is this from being the
case that the great naturalists, from Linnæus onward, give
implicit judgment to the contrary, by classing mankind with the
frugivorous family of the anthropoid apes. Thus Sir Richard Owen
says:
"The apes and monkeys, which man most nearly resembles
in his dentition, derive their staple food from fruits,
grain, the kernels of nuts, and other forms in which the
most sapid and nutritious tissues of the vegetable
kingdom are elaborated; and the close resemblance
between the quadrumanous and the human dentition shows
that man was, from the beginning more especially adapted
'to eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden.'"[5]
Footnote 5:
"Odontography," chap. x., p. 471, 1840-1845. This sentence is
quoted only for what it is worth—viz., as proving that, in
Owen's opinion, man was originally frugivorous. If the whole
passage in "Odontography" be studied, it will be seen that
Owen cannot fairly be cited as a vegetarian authority,
because, after alluding to the fact that the apes occasionally
eat insects, eggs, and young birds, he sums up in favour of
what he calls "the frugivorous and mixed regimen of the
quadrumana and man." This point I have dealt with later in the
chapter.
And here is the more recent verdict of Sir Benjamin Richardson:
"On the whole, I am bound to give judgment on the
evidence of the teeth rather in favour of the vegetarian
argument. It seems fairest of fair to read from nature
that the teeth of man were destined—or fitted, if the
word destined is objected to—for a plant or vegetable
diet, and that the modification due to animal food,
by which some change has been made, is practically an
accident or necessity, which would soon be rectified if
the conditions were rendered favourable to a return
to the primitive state.... By weighing the facts that
now lie before us, the inference is justified that, in
spite of the very long time during which man has been
subjected to an animal diet, he retains in preponderance
his original and natural taste for an innocent diet
derived from the first-fruits of the earth."[6]
Footnote 6:
"Foods for Man," _Longman's Magazine_, 1888.
Yet, in spite of such testimony, and more of an equally
authoritative kind, it is quite a common thing for some
flesh-eating "scientist" to allege against vegetarianism the
conformation of the human teeth or stomach.
SCIENTIST: But our teeth, my good friend, our teeth!
What can be the use of your talking about vegetarianism,
when we both of us carry in our mouths a proof of the
necessity of flesh-eating.
VEGETARIAN: But surely you do not hold the popular
fallacy that man's canine teeth class him among the
carnivora?
SCIENTIST: They prove at least that he is an eater of
flesh as well as of vegetables. Why else has he got such
teeth?
VEGETARIAN: Why has a gorilla got such teeth? "For the
purpose of combat and defence," Owen tells us, not of
food. And if a gorilla, with "canines" much more
developed than man's, is a frugivorous animal, why must
man with less developed "canines" be carnivorous?
SCIENTIST: Well, well; let us turn to the digestive
organs, then. Look at the immense difference between the
human stomach and that of the true herbivora. How can
mankind get the required nutriment from herbs, when we
have not the necessary apparatus for doing so?
VEGETARIAN: But it has never been argued by us, nor is
it in any way essential to our argument, that mankind is
_herbivorous_. What have the herbivora to do with the
question?
SCIENTIST: I have seen them quoted in your books as
instances of strength and endurance——
VEGETARIAN: To dispel the illusion that there is no
chemical nutriment in anything but flesh food; but that
is quite a different thing from asserting that man is
himself herbivorous. The point at issue is simple. You
charge vegetarians with flying in the face of Nature. We
show you, from your own authorities, that the structural
evidence, whatever that may be worth (it was you who
first appealed to it), pronounces man to have been
originally neither carnivorous, nor herbivorous, but
_frugivorous_. If you think otherwise, what do you make
of the apes?
The close similarity that exists between the structure of man
and that of the anthropoid apes is the hard fact that cannot be
evaded by the apologists of flesh-eating. In the conformation
alike of brain, of hands, of teeth, of salivary glands, of
stomach, we have indisputable proof of the frugivorous origin of
man—indeed, it is not seriously questioned by any recognised
authority, that man was a fruit-eater in the early stages of his
development. As far as comparative anatomy throws light on the
diet question, mankind and the apes are, so to speak, "in the
same box," and he who would disprove the frugivorous nature of
man, must also disprove the frugivorous nature of the anthropoid
apes, a predicament of which the more intelligent of our
opponents are keenly aware. And this brings us to the second
branch of the subject of this chapter.
Whatever his original structure, it is argued, man has extended his
resources in the matter of food, and has long been "omnivorous," while
his middle position between the carnivora and herbivora indicates that
he is naturally suited for a "mixed diet." _Omnivorous_, it will be
noted, is the blessed word that is to bring comfort to flesh-eaters,
and the inconvenient apes, whom the naturalists class as frugivorous,
have somehow to be dragged in under the category of "omnivorous." But,
first, a word about the meaning of this saving term.
Now, I wish to make it plain that vegetarians are not wedded to
any _a priori_ theory that the lines of dietetic development are
stringently limited by the original structure of man. If the
flesh-eater appeals, as he so often does, to physical structure,
with the intent of attributing carnivorous instincts to mankind,
we confront him with an array of scientific opinion which
quickly makes him wish he had let the subject alone; and if he
insists on the "evolutional" rather than the "natural" aspect
of the problem, we are equally ready to meet him on this
newer ground. But we decline to fall victims to the rather
disingenuous quibble that lurks in the specious application to
mankind of the term "omnivorous."
For what, in the present connection, does the word "omnivorous"
mean? It cannot, obviously, mean that man should, like the
hog, eat _everything_, for, if so, it would sanction not
only flesh-eating, but cannibalism, and we should have to
class mankind (so Professor Mayor has wittily remarked) as
_hominivorous_! It must mean, presumably, that man is fitted to
eat not _everything_, but _anything_—vegetable food or animal
food—implying that he is eclectic in his diet, free to choose
what is good and reject what is bad, without being bound by any
original law of nature.[7] To the name "omnivorous," used not
in the hoggish sense, but in this rational sense, and not
excluding, as the scientists would absurdly make it exclude, the
force of _moral_ and other considerations, the vegetarian need
raise no objection. Man is "omnivorous," is he? He may select
his own diet from the vegetable and animal kingdoms? Well and
good: that is just what we have always advised him to do, and we
are prepared to give reasons, moral and hygienic, why, in
making the selection, he should omit the use, not of all
animal products, but of flesh. The scientists cannot have
it _both_ ways. They cannot dogmatise on diet as a thing
settled by comparative anatomy, and _also_ assert that man is
"omnivorous"—_i.e._, free to choose what is best.
Footnote 7:
It has been well shown by Dr. J. Oldfield, in the _New Century
Review_, October 1898, that "omnivorism" in the hoggish sense,
is _not_ characteristic of progressive mankind. "The higher we
go in the scale of life, the more we find _selection_ taking
the place of omnivorism. The more complex the organism, the
greater its selective capacity. 'Selection,' then, rather than
'omnivorism,' should be the watch-cry of the human race
evolving upward."
But let us return to our monkeys.
SCIENTIST: You just now quoted the gorilla as a
frugivorous animal, but, on further consideration, I
cannot admit him to be so. He is omnivorous—like man. I
have Sir Richard Owen's authority for it.
VEGETARIAN: What! Does the ape rush upon the antelopes,
and rend them with those canine teeth of his? How
horrible!
SCIENTIST: Not exactly that; but it was stated by Sir
Henry Thompson that "Sally," the large chimpanzee once
so popular in the Zoological Gardens, was not
infrequently supplied with animal food.
VEGETARIAN: Well, and how does that prove that the
chimpanzee is not naturally frugivorous? I should
imagine that any one of us, if placed in a cage, and
stared at all the year round by a throng of gaping
visitors, might be liable to aberrations. Even a
vegetarian might do the same.
SCIENTIST: But in their wild state also the baboons are
known to prey on lizards, young birds, eggs, etc., when
they can get them. Perhaps you were not aware of this
when you called the apes frugivorous?
VEGETARIAN: I was quite aware of it, and in view of the
exceedingly small importance of these casual pilferings
as compared with their staple diet, I maintain that they
_are_, for all practical purposes, frugivorous. Indeed,
so far from this mischievous penchant of the apes being
an argument against vegetarianism, it is most suggestive
as explaining how the early savages may have passed,
almost by accident at first, from a frugivorous to a
mixed diet.
SCIENTIST: Well, at any rate, it indicates that apes
have a tendency to become omnivorous.
VEGETARIAN: Yes, if you like to express it so; and it
is still more evident that men have that tendency. But
the question is whether the tendency is rightly
interpreted as giving a sanction to _flesh-eating_. For
flesh-eating, as we use the term, means the breeding,
destroying, and devouring of highly-organised mammals,
and is a very different thing from the egg and lizard
hunting in which the monkeys sometimes indulge. If you
would confine your flesh-eating to a few insects and
nestlings, you would have a better right to quote the
example of the apes.
Has flesh-eating been a necessary step in man's progress?
Without access to the flesh-pots, it has been asked, would not
the race have remained in the groves with the orangs and the
gorillas? I do not see that vegetarians need concern themselves
to answer such speculations, which, interesting though they are,
do not bear closely on the present issue. For though, as we have
seen, the testimony of the past is in favour of a frugivorous
origin, the problem of the present is one which we are free to
solve without prejudice, and whether the past use of flesh food,
by a portion of the world's inhabitants, has helped or hindered
the true development of man is a matter for individual judgment.
We may have our own opinion about it. But what we are concerned
to prove is that flesh-eating can offer no advantages to us
_now_.
THE APPEAL TO NATURE