VEGETABLE DIET DEFENDED.
General Remarks on the Nature of the Argument--1. The
Anatomical Argument.--2. The Physiological Argument.--3. The
Medical Argument.--4. The Political Argument.--5. The
Economical Argument.--6. The Argument from Experience.--7. The
Moral Argument.--Conclusion.
In the progress of a work like this, it may not be amiss to present, in
a very brief manner, the general arguments in defence of a diet
exclusively vegetable. Some of them have, indeed, already been adverted
to in the testimony of the preceding chapters; but not all. Besides, it
seemed to me desirable to collect the whole in a general view.
There are various ways of doing this, according to the different aspects
in which the subject is viewed. Every one has his own point of
observation. I have mine. Conformably to the view I have taken,
therefore, I shall endeavor to arrange my remarks under the nine
following heads, viz., the ANATOMICAL, the PHYSIOLOGICAL, the MEDICAL,
the POLITICAL, the ECONOMICAL, the EXPERIMENTAL, the MORAL, the
MILLENNIAL, and the BIBLE ARGUMENTS.
Dr. Cheyne relied principally on what I have called the medical
argument--though what I mean by this may not be quite obvious, till I
shall have presented it in its proper place. Not that he wholly
overlooked any thing else; but this, as it seems to me, was with him the
grand point. Nearly the same might be said of Dr. Lambe, and of several
others.
Dr. Mussey seems to place the anatomical and physiological arguments in
the foreground. It is true he makes much use of the medical and the
moral arguments; but the former appear to be his favorites. Dr. Whitlaw,
and some others, incline to make the moral and political arguments more
prominent. Mr. Graham, who has probably done more to reduce the subject
of vegetable dietetics to a _system_ than any other individual,--though
he makes much use of _all_ the rest, especially the moral and
medical,--appears to dwell with most interest on the physiological
argument. This seems to be, with him, the strong-hold--the grand
citadel. And it must be confessed that the point of defence is very
strong indeed, as we shall see in the sequel.
If I have a favorite, with the rest, it is the moral argument, or
perhaps a combination of this with the economical. But then I dwell on
the latter with so much interest, chiefly on account of the former. I
would give very little to be able to bring the world of mankind back to
nature's true simplicity, if it were only to make them better and more
perfect animals; though I know not but an attempt of this sort would be
as truly laudable as the attempt so often made to improve the breed of
our domestic animals. I suppose man, considered as a mere animal, is
superior, in point of importance to all the others. But, after all, I
would reform his dietetic habits principally to make him better,
morally; to make him better, in the discharge of his varied duties to
his fellow-beings and to God. I would elevate him, that he may become as
truly god-like, or godly as he now too often is, by his unnatural
habits, earthly or beastly. I would render him a rational being, fitted
to fill the space which he appears to have been originally designed to
fill--the gap in the great chain of being between the higher quadrupeds
and the beings we are accustomed to regard as angelic. I would restore
him to his true dignity. I would make him a child of God, and an _heir_
of a glorious immortality.
But I now proceed to the discussion of the subject which I have assigned
to this chapter.
I. THE ANATOMICAL ARGUMENT.
There has been a time when the teeth and intestines of man were supposed
to indicate the necessity of a mixed diet--a diet partly animal and
partly vegetable. Four out of thirty-two teeth were found to resemble
slightly, the teeth of carnivorous animals. In like manner, the length
of the intestinal tube was thought to be midway between that of the
flesh-eating, and that of the herb-eating quadrupeds. But, unfortunately
for this mode of defending an animal diet, it has been found out that
the fruit and vegetable-eating monkey race, and the herb-eating camel,
have the said four-pointed teeth much more pointed than those of man and
that the intestines, compared with the real length of the body, instead
of assigning to man a middle position, would place him among the
herbivorous animals. In short--for I certainly need not dwell on this
part of my subject, after having adduced so fully the views of Prof.
Lawrence and Baron Cuvier--there is no intelligent naturalist or
comparative anatomist, at present, who attempts to resort for one moment
to man's structure, in support of the hypothesis that he is a
flesh-eater. None, so far as I know, will affirm, or at least with any
show of reason maintain, that anatomy, so far as that goes, is in favor
of flesh eating. We come, then, to another and more important division
of our subject.
II. THE PHYSIOLOGICAL ARGUMENT.
One of the advantages of vegetable-eaters over others, is in the
superior appetite which they enjoy. There are many flesh-eaters who have
what they call a good appetite. But I never knew a person of this
description, who made the change from a mixed diet to one purely
vegetable, who did not afterward acknowledge that he never once knew,
while he was an eater of animal food, a truly perfect appetite. This
testimony in favor of vegetable diet is positive; whereas that of the
multitude, who have never made the change I speak of, but who are
therefore the more ready to laugh at the conclusions, is merely
negative.
A person of perfect appetite can eat at all times, and under all
circumstances. He can eat of one thing or another, and in greater or
less quantity. Were there no objections to it, he could make an entire
meal of the coarsest and most indigestible substances; or, he could eat
ten or fifteen times a day; or, he could eat a quantity at once which
would astonish even a Siberian; or, on the contrary, he could abstain
from food entirely, for a short time; and any of these without serious
inconvenience. He would, indeed, feel a slight want of something (in the
case of total abstinence), when the usual hour arrived for taking a
meal; but the sensation is not an abiding one; when the hour has passed
by, it entirely disappears. Nor is there ever, at least for a day or two
of abstinence, that gnawing at the stomach, as some express it, which is
so often felt by the flesh-eater and the devourer of other mixed and
injurious dishes and which is so generally mistaken for true and
genuine hunger.
I have said that the vegetable-eater finds no serious inconvenience from
the quality or quantity of his food; but I mean to speak here of the
_immediate_ effects solely. No doubt every error of this sort produces
mischief, sooner or later. The more perfect the appetite is, the greater
should be our moral power of commanding it, and of controlling the
quality and quantity of our food and drink, as well as the times and
seasons of receiving it.
These statements, I am aware, are contrary to the received and current
opinion; but that they are true, can be proved, not by one person
merely,--though if that person were to be entirely relied on, his
positive affirmation would outweigh a thousand _negative_
testimonies,--but by many hundreds. It is more generally supposed that
he who confines himself to a simple diet, soon brings his stomach into
such a state that the slightest departure from his usual habits for once
only, produces serious inconveniences; and this indeed is urged as an
argument against simplicity itself. Yet, how strange! How much more
natural to suppose that the more perfect the health of the stomach, the
better it will bear, for a time, with slight or even serious departures
from truth and nature! How much more natural to suppose that perfect
health is the very best defence against all the causes which tend to
invite or to provoke disease! And what it would be natural to infer, is
proved by experience to be strictly true. The thorough-going
vegetable-eater can make a meal for once, or perhaps feed for a day or
so, on substances which would almost kill many others; and can do so
with comparative impunity. He can make a whole meal of cheese, cabbage,
fried pudding, fried dough-nuts, etc., etc.; and if it be not in
remarkable excess, he will feel no immediate inconvenience, unless from
the mental conviction that he must pay the full penalty at some distant
day.
I repeat it, the appetite of the vegetable-eater, if true to his
principles, and temperate in regard to quantity, is always, at all
moments of his life, perfect. To be sure, he is not always _hungry_.
Hunger, indeed, as I have already intimated--what most people call
hunger, a morbid sensation, or gnawing--is unknown to him. But there is
scarce a moment of his life, at least, when he is awake, in which he
could not enjoy the pleasures of eating, even the coarsest viands, with
a high relish; provided, however, he knew it was _proper_ for him to
eat. Nor is his appetite fickle, demanding this or that particular
article, and disconcerted if it cannot be obtained. It is satisfied with
any thing to which the judgment directs; and though gratified, in a high
degree, with dainties, when nothing better and more wholesome cannot be
obtained, never demanding them in a peremptory manner.
The vegetable-eater has a more quiet, happy, and perfect digestion than
the flesh-eater. On this point there has been much mistake, even among
physiologists. Richerand and many others suppose that a degree of
constitutional disturbance is indispensable during the process of
digestion; and some have even said that the system was subjected at
every meal--nay, at every healthy meal--to a species of miniature fever.
The remarks of Richerand are as follows. I have slightly abridged them,
but have not altered the sense:
"While the alimentary solution is going on, a slight shivering is felt;
the pulse becomes quicker and more contracted; the vital power seems to
forsake the other organs, to concentrate itself on that which is the
seat of the digestive process. As the stomach empties itself, the
shivering is followed by a gentle warmth; the pulse increases in
fullness and frequency; and the insensible perspiration is augmented.
Digestion brings on, therefore, a general action, analogous to a febrile
paroxysm."
And what is it, indeed, _but_ a febrile paroxysm? Nay, Richerand himself
confirms this by adding, "this fever of digestion, noticed already by
the ancients, is particularly observable in women of great sensibility."
That is, the fever is more violent in proportion to the want of power in
the person it attacks to resist its influence; just as it is with fever
in all other circumstances, or when induced by any other causes.
But, can any one believe the Author of Nature has so made us, that in a
steady and rational obedience to his laws, it is indispensable that we
should be thrown into a fever three times a day, one thousand and
ninety-five times in a year, and seventy-six thousand six hundred and
fifty in seventy years? No wonder, if this were true, that the vitality
of our organs was ordained to wear out soon; for we see by what means
the result would be accomplished.
The fever, however, of which Richerand speaks, does very generally
exist, because mankind very generally depart from nature and her laws.
But it is not necessary. The simple vegetable-eater--if he lives right
in all other respects--if he errs not as to quantity, knows nothing of
it; nor should it be known by any body. We should leave it to the
animals below man to err, in quantity and quality, to an excess which
constitutes a surfeit or a fever, and causes fullness and drowsiness,
and a recumbent posture. The self-styled lord of the animal world should
rise superior to habits which have marked, in every age, certain orders
of the lower animals.
But the chyle which is produced from vegetable aliment is better--all
other things being equal--than that which is produced from any other
food. For proof of this, we need but the testimony of Oliver and other
physiologists. They tell us, unhesitatingly, that under the same
circumstances, chyle which is formed from vegetables will be preserved
from putrefaction many days longer--the consequence of greater purity
and a more perfect vitality--than that which is formed from any
admixture of animal food. Is it not, then, better for the purposes of
health and longevity? Can it, indeed, be otherwise? I will say nothing
at present, for want of space to devote to it, of the indications which
are afforded by the other sensible properties of the chyle which is
produced from vegetables. The single fact I have presented is enough on
that point.
The best solids and fluids are produced by vegetable eating. On this
single topic a volume might be written, without exhausting it, while I
must confine myself to a page or two.
In the first place, it forms better bones and more solid muscles, and
consequently gives to the frame greater solidity and strength. Compare,
in evidence of the truth of this statement, the vegetable-eating
millions of middle and southern Europe, with the other millions, who,
supposed to be more fortunate, can get a little flesh or fish once a
day. Especially, make this comparison in Ireland, where the vegetable
food selected is far from being of the first or best order; and whose
sight is so obtuse as not to perceive the difference? I do not say,
compare the enervated inhabitant of a hot climate, as Spain or Italy,
with the inhabitant of England, or Scotland, or Russia, for that would
be an unfair comparison, wholly so; but compare Italian with Italian,
Frenchman with Frenchman, German with German, Scotchman with Scotchman,
and Hibernian with Hibernian.
In like manner, compare the millions of Japanese of the interior, who
subsist through life chiefly on rice, with the few millions of the
coasts who eat a little fish with their rice. Make a similar comparison
in China and in Hindostan. Notice, in particular, the puny Chinese, who
live in southern China, on quite a large proportion of shell-fish,
compared with the Chinese of the interior. Extend your observations to
Hindostan. Do not talk of the effeminate habits and weak constitutions
of the rice and curry eaters there--bad as the admixture of rice and
curry may be--for that is to compare the Hindoo with other nations; but
compare Hindoo with Hindoo, which is the only fair way. Compare the
porters of the Mediterranean, both of Asia and Europe, who feed on bread
and figs, and carry weights to the extent of eight hundred or one
thousand pounds, with the porters who eat flesh, fish, and oil. Compare
African with African, American Indian with American Indian; nay, even
New Englander with New Englander; for we have a few here who are trained
to vegetable eating. In short, go where you will, and institute a fair
comparison, and the results will be, without a single exception, in
favor of a diet exclusively vegetable. It is necessary, however, in
making the comparison, to place _good_ vegetable food in opposition to
good animal food; for no one will pretend that a diet of crude,
miserable, or imperfect, or sickly vegetables will be as wholesome as
one consisting of rich farinaceous articles and fruits; nor even as many
kinds of plain meat.
The only instance which, on a proper comparison, will probably be
adduced to prove the incorrectness of these views, will be that of a few
tribes of American Indians, who, though they have extremely robust
bodies, are eaters of much flesh. But they live also in the open air,
and have many other good habits, and are healthy in spite of the
inferiority of their diet. But perfect, physically, as they seem to be,
and probably are, examine the vegetable-eaters among them, of the same
tribe, and they will be found still more so.
In the next place, the fluids are all in a better and more healthy
state. In proof of this, I might mention in the first place that
superior agility, ease of motion, speed, and power of endurance which so
distinguish vegetable-eaters, wherever a fair comparison is instituted.
They possess a suppleness like that of youth, even long after what is
called the juvenile period of life is passed over. They are often seen
running and jumping, unless restrained by the arbitrary customs of
society, in very advanced age. Their wounds heal with astonishing
rapidity in as many days as weeks, or even months, in the latter case.
All this could not happen, were there not a good state of the fluids of
the system conjoined, to a happy state of the solids.
The vegetable-eater, if temperate in the use of his vegetables, and if
all his other habits are good, will endure, better than the flesh-eater,
the extremes of heat and cold. This power of endurance has ever been
allowed to be a sure sign of a good state of health. The most vigorous
man, as it is well known, will endure best both extremes of temperature.
But it is a proof also of the greater purity of his solids and fluids.
The secretions and excretions of his body are in a better state; and
this, again, proves that his blood and other fluids are healthy. He does
not so readily perspire excessively as other men, neither is there any
want of free and easy perspiration. Profuse sweating on every trifling
exertion of the body or mind, is as much a disease as an habitually dry
skin. But the vegetable-eater escapes both of these extremes. The
saliva, the tears, the milk, the gastric juice, the bile, and the other
secretions and excretions--particularly the dejections--are as they
should be. Nay, the very exhalations of the lungs are purer, as is
obvious from the breath. That of a vegetable-eater is perfectly sweet,
while that of a flesh-eater is often as offensive as the smell of a
charnel-house. This distinction is discernible even among the brute
animals. Those which feed on grass, grain, etc., have a breath
incomparably sweeter than those which prey on animals. Compare the
camel, and horse, and cow, and sheep, and rabbit, with the tiger (if you
choose to approach him), the wolf, the dog, the cat, and the hawk. One
comparison will be sufficient; you will never forget it. But there is as
much difference between the odor of the breath of a flesh-eating human
being and a vegetable-eater, as between those of the dog and the lamb.
This, however, is a secret to all but vegetable-eaters themselves, since
none but they are so situated as to be able to make the comparison. But,
betake yourself to mealy vegetables and fruits a few years, and live
temperately on them, and then you will perceive the difference,
especially in riding in a stage-coach. This, I confess, is rather a
draw-back upon the felicity of vegetable-eaters; but it is some
consolation to know what a mass of corruption we ourselves have escaped.
There is one more secretion to which I wish to direct your attention,
which is, the fat or oil. The man who lives rightly, and rejects animal
food among the rest, will never be overburdened with fat. He will
neither be too corpulent nor too lean. Both these conditions are
conditions of disease, though, as a general rule, corpulence is most to
be dreaded; it is, at least, the most disgusting. Fat, I repeat it, is a
secretion. The cells in which it is deposited serve for relieving the
system of many of the crudities and abuses, not to say poisons, which
are poured into it--cheated; as it were, in some degree into the blood,
secreted into the fat cells, and buried in the fat to be out of the way,
and where they can do but little mischief. Yet, even here they are not
wholly harmless. The fat man is almost always more exposed to disease,
and to _severe_ epidemic disease in particular, than the lean man. Let
us leave it to the swine and other kindred quadrupeds, to dispose of
gross half poisonous matter, by converting it into, or burying it in
fat; let us employ our vital forces and energies in something better.
Above all, let us not descend to swallow, as many have been inclined to
do, besides the ancient Israelites, this gross secretion, and reduce
ourselves to the painful necessity of carrying about, from day to day, a
huge mass of double-refined disease, pillaged from the foulest and
filthiest of animals.
Vegetable-eaters--especially if they avoid condiments, as well as flesh
and fish--are not apt to be thirsty. It is a common opinion among the
laboring portion of the community, that they who perspire freely, must
drink freely. And yet I have known one or two hard laborers who were
accustomed to sweat profusely and freely, who hardly ever drank any
thing, except a little tea or milk at their meals, and yet were
remarkably strong and healthy, and attained to a great age. One of this
description (Frederick Lord, of Hartford, Conn.), lived to about the age
of eighty-five. How the system is supplied, in such cases, with fluid, I
do not know; but I know it is not necessary to drink perpetually for the
purpose; for if but one healthy man can dispense with drinking, others
may. The truth is, we seldom drink from real thirst. We drink chiefly
either from habit, or because we have created a morbid or diseased
thirst by improper food or drink, among which animal food is pretty
conspicuous.
I have intimated that, in order to escape thirst, the vegetable-eater
must abstain also from condiments. This he will be apt to do. It is he
who eats flesh and fish, and drinks something besides water, who feels
such an imperious necessity for condiments. The vegetable and milk
eater, and water-drinker, do not need them.
It is in this view, that the vegetable system lies at the foundation of
all reform in the matter of temperance. So long as the use of animal
food is undisturbed and its lawfulness unquestioned, all our efforts to
heal the maladies of society are superficial. The wound is not yet
probed to the bottom. But, renounce animal food, restore us to our
proper condition, and feed us on milk and farinaceous articles, and our
fondness for excitement and our hankering for exciting drinks and
condiments will, in a few generations, die away. Animal food is a root
of all evil, so far as temperance is concerned, in its most popular and
restricted sense.
The pure vegetable-eaters, especially those who are trained as such,
seldom drink at all. Some use a little water with their meals, and a few
drink occasionally between them, especially if they labor much in the
open air, and perspire freely. Some taste nothing in the form of drink
for months, unless we call the abundant juices of apples and other
fruits, and milk, etc., by that name--of which, by the way, they are
exceedingly fond. The reason is, they are seldom thirsty. Dr. Lambe, of
London, doubts whether man is naturally a drinking animal; but I do not
carry the matter so far. Still I believe that ninety-nine hundredths of
the drink which is used, _as_ now used, does more harm than good.
He who avoids flesh and fish, escapes much of that languor and
faintness, at particular hours, which others feel. He has usually a
clear and quiet head in the morning. He is ready, and willing, and glad
to rise in due season; and his morning feelings are apt to last all day.
He has none of that faintness between his meals which many have, and
which tempts thousands to luncheons, drams, tobacco, snuff, and opium,
and ultimately destroys so much health and life. The truth is, that
vegetable food is not only more quiet and unstimulating than any other,
but it holds out longer also. I know the contrary of this is the general
belief; but it is not well founded. Animal food stimulates most, and as
the stimulus goes off soon, we are liable to feel dull after it, and to
fancy we need the stimulus of drink or something else to keep us up till
the arrival of another meal. And, having acquired a habit of relying on
our food to stimulate us immediately, much more than to give us real,
lasting, permanent strength, it is no wonder we feel, for a time, a
faintness if we discontinue its use. This only shows the power of habit,
and the over-stimulating character of our accustomed food. Nor does the
simple vegetable-eater suffer, during the spring, as other people say
they do. All is cheerful and happy with him, even then. Nor, lastly, is
he subject to hypochondria or depression of spirits. He is always lively
and cheerful; and all with him is bright and happy. As it has been
expressed elsewhere, with the truly temperate man it is "morning all
day."
The system of diet in question, greatly improves, exalts, and perfects
the senses. The sight, smell, and taste are rendered greatly superior by
it. The difference in favor of the hearing and the touch may not be so
obvious; nevertheless, it is believed to be considerable. But the change
in the other senses--the first three which I have named--even when we
reform as late as at thirty-five or forty, is wonderful. I do not wish
to encourage, by this, a delay of the work of reformation; we can never
begin it too early.
Vegetable diet favors beauty of form and feature. The forms of the
natives of some of the South Sea Islands, to say nothing of their
features, are exceedingly fine. They are tall and well proportioned. So
it is with the Japanese and Chinese, especially of the interior, where
they subsist almost wholly on rice and fruits. The Japanese are the
finest men, physically speaking, in Asia. The New Hollanders, on the
contrary, who live almost wholly on flesh and fish, are among the most
meagre and ugly of the human race, if we except the flesh-eating savages
of the north, and the Greenlanders and Laplanders. In short, the
principle I have here advanced will hold, as a _general rule_, I
believe, other things being equal, throughout the world. If it be asked
whether I would exalt beauty and symmetry into virtues, I will only say
that they are not without their use in a virtuous people; and I look
forward to a period in the world's history, when all will be
comparatively well formed and beautiful. Beauty is exceedingly
influential, as every one must have observed who has been long in the
world; at least, if he has had his eyes open. And it is probably right
that it should be so. Our beauty is almost as much within our control,
as a race, as our conduct.
A vegetable diet, moreover, promotes and preserves a clearness and a
generally healthful state of the mental faculties. I believe that much
of the moral as well as intellectual error in the world, arises from a
state of mind which is produced by the introduction of improper liquids
and solids into the stomach, or, at least, by their application to the
nervous system. Be this as it may, however, there is nothing better for
the brain than a temperate diet of well-selected vegetables, with water
for drink. This Sir Isaac Newton and hundreds of others could abundantly
attest.
It also favors an evenness and tranquillity of temper, which is of
almost infinite value. The most fiery and vindictive have been enabled,
by this means, when all other means had failed, to transform themselves
into rational beings, and to become, in this very respect, patterns to
those around them. If this were its only advantage, in a physiological
point of view, it would be of more value than worlds. It favors, too,
simplicity of character. It makes us, in the language of the Bible, to
remain, or to become, as little children, and it preserves our juvenile
character and habits through life, and gives us a green old age.
Finally and lastly, it gives us an independence of external things and
circumstances, that can never be attained without it. In vain may we
resort to early discipline and correct education--in vain to moral and
religious training--in vain, I had almost said, to the promises and
threatenings of heaven itself, so long as we continue the use of food so
unnatural to man as the flesh of animals, with the condiments and
sauces, and improper drinks which follow in its train. Our hope, under
God, is, in no small degree, on a radical change in man's dietetic
habits--in a return to that simple path of truth and nature, from which,
in most civilized countries, those who have the pecuniary means of doing
it have unwisely departed.
III. THE MEDICAL ARGUMENT.
If perfect health is the best preventive and security against disease,
and if a well-selected and properly administered vegetable diet is best
calculated to promote and preserve that perfect health, then this part
of the subject--what I have ventured to call the medical argument--is at
once disposed of. The superiority of the diet I recommend is established
beyond the possibility of debate. Now that this is the case--namely,
that this diet is best calculated to promote perfect health--I have no
doubt. For the sake of others, however, it may be well to adduce a few
facts, and present a few brief considerations.
It is now pretty generally known, that Howard, the philanthropist, was,
for about forty years a vegetable-eater, subsisting for much of this
time on bread and tea, and that he went through every form of exposure
to disease, contagious and non-contagious, perfectly unharmed. And had
it not been for other physical errors than those which pertain to diet,
I know of no reason why his life might not have been preserved many
years longer--perhaps to this time.
Rev. Josiah Brewer, late a missionary in Smyrna, was very much exposed
to disease, and, like Mr. Howard, to the plague itself; and yet I am not
aware that he ever had a single sick day as the consequence of his
exposure. I do not know with certainty that he abstains entirely from
flesh meat, but he is said to be rigidly temperate in other respects.
Those who have read Rush's Inquiries and other writings, are aware that
he was very much exposed to the yellow fever in Philadelphia, during the
years in which it prevailed there. Now, there is great reason for
believing that he owed his exemption from the disease, in part, at
least, to his great temperance.
Mr. James, a teacher in Liberia, in Africa, had abstained for a few
years from animal food, prior to his going out to Africa. Immediately
after his arrival there, and during the sickly season, one of his
companions who went out with him, died of the fever. Mr. James was
attacked slightly, but recovered.
Another vegetable-eater--the Rev. Mr. Crocker--went out to a sickly part
of Africa some years since, and remained at his station a long time in
perfect health, while many of his friends sickened or died. At length,
however, he fell.
Gen. Thomas Sheldon, of this state, a vegetable-eater, spent several
years in the most sickly parts of the Southern United States, with an
entire immunity from disease; and he gives it as his opinion that it is
no matter where we are, so that our dietetic and other habits are
correct.
Mr. G. McElroy, of Kentucky, spent several months of the most sickly
season in the most unhealthy parts of Africa, in the year 1835, and yet
enjoyed the best of health the whole time. While there and on his
passage home, he abstained wholly from animal food, living on rice and
other farinaceous vegetables and fruits.
In view of these facts and many others, Mr. Graham remarks: "Under a
proper regimen our enterprising young men of New England may go to New
Orleans or Liberia, or any where else they choose, and stay as long as
they choose, and yet enjoy good health." And there is no doubt he is
right.
But it is hardly worth while to cite single facts in proof of a point of
this kind. There is abundant testimony to be had, going to show that a
vegetable diet is a security against disease, especially against
epidemics, whether in the form of a mere influenza or malignant fever.
Nay, there is reason to believe that a person living according to _all_
the Creator's laws, physical and moral, could hardly receive or
communicate disease of any kind. How could a person in perfect health,
and obeying to an iota all the laws of health--how could he contract
disease? What would there be in his system which could furnish a nidus
for its reception?
I am well aware that not a few people suppose the most healthy are as
much exposed to disease as others, and that there are some who even
suppose they are much more so. "Death delights in a shining mark," or
something to this effect, is a maxim which has probably had its origin
in the error to which I have adverted. To the same source may be traced
the strange opinion that a fatal or malignant disease makes its first
and most desperate attacks upon the healthy and the robust. The fact
is--and this explains the whole riddle--those who are regarded, by the
superficial and short-sighted in this matter, as the most healthy and
robust, are usually persons whose unhealthy habits have already sown the
seeds of disease; and nothing is wanting but the usual circumstances of
epidemics to rouse them into action. More than all this, these
strong-looking but inwardly-diseased persons are almost sure to die
whenever disease does attack them, simply on account of the previous
abuses of their constitutions.
During the prevalence of the cholera in New York, about the year 1832,
all the Grahamites, as they were called, who had for some time abstained
from animal food--and their number was quite respectable--and who
persevered in it, either wholly escaped the disease, or had it very
lightly; and this, too, notwithstanding a large proportion of them were
very much exposed to its attacks, living in the parts of the city where
it most prevailed, or in families where others were dying almost daily.
This could not be the result of mere accident; it is morally impossible.
But flesh-eaters--admitting the flesh were wholesome--are not only much
more liable to contract disease, but if they contract it, to suffer more
severely than others. There is yet another important consideration which
belongs to the medical argument. Animal food is much more liable than
vegetable food, to those changes or conditions which we call poisonous,
and which are always, in a greater or less degree, the sources of
disease; it is also more liable to poisonous mixtures or adulterations.
It is true, that in the present state of the arts, and of agriculture
and civic life generally, vegetables themselves are sometimes the
sources of disease. I refer not to the spurred rye and other substances,
which occasionally find their way into our fields and get mixed with our
grains, etc., and which are known to be very active poisons,--so much as
to the acrid or otherwise improper juices which are formed by forced
vegetation, especially about cities, whether by means of hot-beds,
green-houses, or new, strong, or highly-concentrated manures. I refer
also to the crude, unripe, and imperfect fruits and other things with
which our markets are filed now-a-days; and especially to _decaying_
fruits and vegetables. But I cannot enlarge; a volume would be too
little to do this part of the subject justice. Nothing is more wanted
than light on this subject, and a consequent reform in our fashionable
agriculture and horticulture.
And yet, although I admit, most cheerfully, the danger we are in of
contracting disease by using diseased vegetables, the danger is neither
so frequent nor so imminent, in proportion to the quantity of it
consumed, as from animal food. Let us briefly take a view of the facts.
Milk, in its nature, approaches nearest to the line of the vegetable
kingdom, and is therefore, in my view, the least objectionable form of
animal food. I am even ready to admit that for persons affected with
certain forms of chronic disease, and for all children, milk is
excellent. And yet, excellent as it is, it is very liable to be
injurious. We are told, by the most respectable medical men of France,
that all the cows about Paris have tubercles (the seeds or beginning of
consumption) in their lungs which is probably owing to the unnatural
state in which they are kept, as regards the kind, and quantity, and
hours of receiving their food; and especially as regards air, exercise,
and water. Cows cannot be healthy, nor any other domestic animals, any
more than men, when long subjected to the unnatural and unhealthy
influences of bad air, want of exercise, etc. Hence, then, most of our
cows about our towns and cities must be diseased, in a greater or less
degree--if not with consumption, with something else. And of course
their milk must be diseased--not, perhaps, as much as their blood and
flesh, but more or less so. But if milk is diseased, the butter and
cheese made from it must be diseased also.
But milk is sometimes diseased through the vegetables which are eaten by
the cow. Every one knows how readily the sensible properties of certain
acrid plants are perceived in the milk. Hence as I have elsewhere
intimated, we are doubly exposed to danger from eating animal food;
first, from the diseases of the animal itself, and secondly, from the
diseases which are liable to be induced upon us by the vegetables they
use, some of which are not poisonous to them, but are so to us. So that,
in avoiding animal food, we escape at least a part of the danger.
Besides the general fact, that almost all medical and dietetic writers
object to fat, and to butter among the rest, as difficult of digestion
and tending to cutaneous and other diseases,--and besides the general
admission in society at large that it makes the skin "break out,"--it
must be obvious that it is liable to retain, in a greater or less
degree, all the poisonous properties which existed in the milk from
which it was made. Next to fat pork, butter seems to me one of the worst
things that ever entered a human stomach; and if it will not, like pork,
quite cause the leprosy, it will cause almost every other skin disease
which is known.
Cheese is often poisoned now-a-days by design. I do not mean to say that
the act of poisoning is accompanied by malice toward mankind; far from
it. It is added to color it, as in the form of anatto; or to give it
freshness and tenderness, as in the case of arsenic.[21]
Eggs, when not fresh, are more or less liable to disease. I might even
say more. When not fresh, they _are_ diseased. On this point we have the
testimony of Drs. Willich and Dunglison. The truth is, that the yolk of
the egg has a strong tendency to decomposition, and this decomposing or
putrefying process _begins_ long before it is perceived, or even
suspected, by most people. There is much reason for believing that a
large proportion of the eggs eaten in civic life,--except when we keep
the poultry ourselves,--are, when used, more or less in a state of
decomposition. And yet, into how many hundred forms of food do they
enter in fashionable life, or in truth, in almost every condition of
society! The French cooks are said to have six hundred and eighty-five
methods of cooking the egg, including all the various sorts of pastry,
etc., of which it forms a component part.
One of the grand objections against animal food, of almost all sorts,
is, that it tends with such comparative rapidity to decomposition. Such
is at least the case with eggs, flesh, and fish of every kind. The usual
way of preventing the decomposition is by processes scarcely less
hurtful--by the addition of salt, pyroligneous acid, saltpetre, lime,
etc. These, to be sure, prevent putrefaction; but they render every
thing to which they are applied, unless it is the egg, the more
indigestible.
It is a strange taste in mankind, by the way, which leads them to prefer
things in a state of incipient decomposition. And yet such a taste
certainly prevails widely. Many like the flesh beaten; hence the origin
of the cruel practice of the East of whipping animals to death.[22] And
most persons like fresh meat kept till it begins to be _tender_; that
is, begins to putrefy. So most persons like fermented beer better than
that which is unfermented, although fermentation is a step toward
putrefaction; and they like vinegar, too, which is also far advanced in
the same road.
That diseased food causes diseases in the persons who use it, needs not,
one would think, a single testimony; and yet, I will name a few.
Dr. Paris, speaking of fish, says,--"It is not improbable that certain
cutaneous diseases may be produced, or at least aggravated by such
diet." Dr. Dunglison says, bacon and cured meats are often poisonous. He
speaks of the poisonous tendency of eggs, and says that all _made_
dishes are more or less "rebellious." In Aurillac, in France, not many
years since, fifteen or sixteen persons were attacked with symptoms of
cholera after eating the milk of a certain goat. The goat died with
cholera about twenty-four hours after, and two men, no less eminent
than Professors Orfila and Marc, gave it as their undoubted opinion that
the cholera symptoms alluded to, were caused by the milk. I have myself
known oysters at certain times and seasons to produce the same symptoms.
During the progress of a mortal disease among the poultry on Edisto
Island, S. C., in 1837, all the dogs and vultures that tasted of the
flesh of the dead poultry sickened and died. Chrisiston mentions an
instance in which five persons were poisoned by eating beef; and
Dunglison one in which fourteen persons were made sick, and some died,
from eating the meat of a calf. Between the years 1793 and 1827, it is
on record that there were in the kingdom of Wurtemberg alone, no less
than two hundred and thirty-four cases of poisoning, and one hundred and
ten deaths, from eating sausages. But I need not multiply this sort of
evidence, the world abounds with it; though for one person who is
poisoned so much as to be made sick immediately, hundreds perhaps are
only slightly affected; and the punishment may seem to be deferred for
many years.
The truth, in short, is, that every fashionable process of fattening and
even of domesticating animals, induces disease; and as most of the
animals we use for food are domesticated or fattened, or both, it
follows that most of our animal food, whether milk, butter, cheese,
eggs, or flesh, is diseased food, and must inevitably, sooner or later,
induce disease in those who receive it. Those which are most fattened
are the worst, of course; as the hog, the goose, the sheep, and the ox.
The more the animal is removed from a natural state, in fattening, the
more does the fat accumulate, and the more it is diseased. Hence the
complaints against every form of animal oil or fat, in every age, by
men who, notwithstanding their complaints, for the most part, continue
to set mankind an example of its use.
Let me here introduce a single paragraph from Dr. Cheyne, which is very
much to my present purpose.
"About London, we can scarce have any but crammed poultry or stall-fed
butchers' meat. It were sufficient to disgust the stoutest stomach to
see the foul, gross, and nasty manner in which, and the fetid, putrid,
and unwholesome materials _with_ which they are fed. Perpetual foulness
and cramming, gross food and nastiness, we know, will putrefy the
juices, and corrupt the muscular substance of human creatures--and sure
they can do no less in brute animals--and thus make our food poison. The
same may be said of hot-beds, and forcing plants and vegetables. The
only way of having sound and healthful animals, is to leave them to
their own natural liberty in the free air, and their own proper element,
with plenty of food and due cleanliness; and a shelter from the injuries
of the weather, whenever they have a mind to retire to it."
The argument then is, that, for healthy adults at least, a well-selected
vegetable diet, other things being equal, is a preventive of disease,
and a security against its violence, should it attack us, in a far
greater degree than a diet which includes animal food in any of its
numerous forms. It will either prevent the common diseases of childhood,
including those which are deemed contagious, or render their attacks
extremely mild: it will either prevent or mitigate the symptoms of the
severe diseases of adults, not excepting malignant fevers, small-pox,
plague, etc.; and it will either prevent such diseases as cancer, gout,
epilepsy, scrofula, and consumption, or prolong life under them.
Who that has ever thought of the condition of our domestic animals,
especially about towns and cities--their want of good air, abundant
exercise, good water, and natural food, to say nothing of the butter-cup
and the other poisonous products of over-stimulating or fresh manures
which they sometimes eat--has not been astonished to find so little
disease among us as there actually is? Animal food, in its best state,
is a great deal more stimulating and heating to the system than
vegetable food;--but how much more injurious is it made, in the
circumstances in which most animals are placed? Do we believe that even
a New Zealand cannibal would willingly eat flesh, if he knew it was from
an animal that when killed was laboring under a load of liver complaint,
gout, consumption, or fever? And yet, such is the condition of most of
the animals we slay for food. They would often die of their diseases if
we did not put the knife to their throats to prevent it.
One more consideration. If the exclusive use of vegetable food will
prevent a multitude of the worst and most incurable diseases to which
human nature, in other circumstances, seems liable; if it will modify
the diseases which a mixed diet, or absolute intemperance, or gluttony
had induced,--by what rule can we limit its influence? How know we that
what is so efficacious in regard to the larger diseases, will not be
equally so in the case of all smaller ones? And why, then, may not its
universal adoption, after a few generations, banish disease entirely
from the world? Every person of common observation, knows that, as a
general rule, they who approach the nearest to a pure vegetable and
water diet, are most exempt from disease, and the longest-lived and most
happy. How, then, can it otherwise happen than that a still closer
approximation will afford a greater exemption still, and so on
indefinitely? At what point of an approach toward such diet and regimen,
and toward perfect health at the same time, is it that we stop, and more
temperance still will injure us? In short, where do we cross the line?
IV. THE POLITICAL ARGUMENT.
I have dwelt at such length on the physiological and medical arguments
in defence of the vegetable system, that I must compress my remaining
views into the smallest space possible; especially those which relate to
its political, national, or general advantages.
Political economists tell us that the produce of an acre of land in
wheat, corn, potatoes, and other vegetables, and in fruits, will sustain
animal life sixteen times as long as when the produce of the same acre
is converted into flesh, by feeding and fattening animals upon it.
But, if we admit that this estimate is too high, and if the real
difference is only eight to one, instead of sixteen to one, the results
may perhaps surprise us; and if we have not done it before, may lead us
to reflection. Let us see what some of them are.
The people of the United States are believed to eat, upon the average,
an amount of animal food equal at least to one whole meal once a day,
and those of Great Britain one in two days. But taking this estimate to
be correct, Great Britain, by substituting vegetable for animal food,
might sustain forty-nine instead of twenty-one millions of inhabitants,
and the United States sixty-six millions instead of twenty; and this,
too, in their present comfort, and without clearing up any more new
land. Here, then, we are consuming that unnecessarily--if animal food is
unnecessary--which would sustain seventy-nine millions of human beings
in life, health, and happiness.
Now, if life is a blessing at all--if it is a blessing to twenty-two
millions in Great Britain, and twenty millions in the United
States--then to add to this population an increase of seventy-nine
millions, would be to increase, in the same proportion, the aggregate of
human happiness. And if, in addition to this, we admit the very
generally received principle, that there is a tendency, from the nature
of things, in the population of any country, to keep up with the means
of support, we, of Great Britain and America, keep down, at the present
moment, by flesh-eating, sixty-three millions of inhabitants.
We do not destroy them, in the full sense of the term, it is true, for
they never had an existence. But we prevent their coming into the
possession of a joyous and happy existence; and though we have no name
for it, is it not a crime? What! no crime for thirty-five millions of
people to prevent and preclude the existence of sixty-three millions?
I see no way of avoiding the force of this argument, except by denying
the premises on which I have founded my conclusions. But they are far
more easily denied than disproved. The probability, after all, is, that
my estimates are too low, and that the advantages of an exclusively
vegetable diet, in a national or political point of view, are even
greater than is here represented. I do not deny, that some deduction
ought to be made on account of the consumption of fish, which does not
prevent the growth or use of vegetable products; but my belief is, that,
including them, the animal food we use amounts to a great deal more than
one meal a day, or one third of our whole living.
Suppose there was no _crime_ in shutting human beings out of existence
by flesh-eating, at the amazing rate I have mentioned--still, is it not,
I repeat it, a great national or political loss? Or, will it be said, in
its defence, as has been said in defence of war, if not of intemperance
and some of the forms of licentiousness, that as the world is, it is a
blessing to keep down its population, otherwise it would soon be
overstocked? The argument would be as good in one case as in the other;
that is, it is not valid in either. The world might be made to sustain,
in comfort, even in the present comparatively infant state of the arts
and sciences, at least forty or fifty times its present number of
inhabitants. It will be time enough a thousand or two thousand years to
come, to begin to talk about the danger of the world's being
over-peopled; and, above all, to talk about justifying what we know is,
in the abstract, very wrong, to prevent a distant imagined evil; one, in
fact, which may not, and probably will not ever exist.
V. THE ECONOMICAL ARGUMENT.
The economy of the vegetable system is so intimately connected with its
political or national advantages; that is, so depends on, or grows out
of them, that I hesitated for some time before I decided to consider it
separately. Whatever is shown clearly to be for the general good policy
and well-being of society, cannot be prejudicial to the best interests
of the individuals who compose that society. Still, there are some minor
considerations that I wish to present under this head, that could not
so well have been introduced any where else.
There is, indeed, one reason for omitting wholly the consideration of
the pecuniary advantages of the system which I am attempting to defend.
The public, to some extent, at once consider him who adverts to this
topic, as parsimonious or mean. But, conscious as I am of higher objects
in consulting economy than the saving of money, that it may be expended
on things of no more value than the mere indulgence or gratification of
the appetites or the passions, in a world where there are minds to
educate and souls to save, I have ventured to treat on the subject.
It must be obvious, at a single glance, that if the vegetable products
of an acre of land--such as wheat, rye, corn, barley, potatoes, beans,
peas, turnips, beets, apples, strawberries, etc.--will sustain a family
in equal health eight times as long as the pork, or beef, or mutton,
which the same vegetables would make by feeding them to domestic
animals, it must be just as mistaken a policy for the individual to make
the latter disposition of these products as for a nation to do so.
Nations are made of individuals; and, as I have already said, whatever
is best, in the end, for the one, must also be the best, as a general
rule, for the other.
But who has not been familiar from his very infancy with the maxim, that
"a good garden will half support a family?" And who that is at all
informed in regard to the manners and customs of the old world, does not
know that the maxim has been verified there, time immemorial? But again:
who has not considered, that if a garden of a given size will half
support a family, one twice as large would support it wholly?
The truth is, it needs but a very small spot indeed, of good soil, for
raising all the necessaries of a family. I think I have shown, in
another work,[23] that five hundred and fifty pounds of Indian or corn
meal, or ten bushels of the corn, properly cooked, will support, or more
than support, an adult individual a year. Four times this amount is a
very large allowance for a family of five persons; nay, even three times
is sufficient. But how small a spot of good soil is required for raising
thirty bushels of corn!
It is true, no family would wish to be confined a whole year to this one
kind of food; nor do I wish to have it so; not that I think any serious
mischiefs would arise as the consequence; but I should prefer, for my
own part, a greater variety. But this does not materially alter the
case. Suppose an acre and a half of land were required for the
production of thirty bushels of corn. Let the cultivator, if he chooses,
raise only fifteen bushels of corn, and sow the remainder with barley,
or rye, or wheat. Or, if he prefer it, let him plant the one half of the
piece with beans, peas, potatoes, beets, onions, etc. The one half of
the space devoted to the production of some sort of grain would still
half support his family; and it would require more than ordinary
gluttony in a family of five persons to consume the produce of the other
half, if the crops were but moderately abundant. A quarter of an acre of
it ought to produce, at least, sixty bushels of potatoes; but this
alone, would give such a family about ten pounds of potatoes, or one
sixth of a bushel a day, for every day in the year, which is a tolerable
allowance of food, without the grain and other vegetables.
But suppose a whole family were to live wholly on grain, as corn, or
even wheat, for the year; the whole expenditure would hardly, exceed
fifty dollars, in dear places and in the dearest times. Of course, I am
speaking now of expenses for food and drink merely, the latter of which
usually costs nothing, or need not. How small a sum is this to expend in
New York, or Boston, or Philadelphia, in the maintenance of a family!
And yet, it is amply sufficient for the vegetable-eater, unless his
family live exclusively on wheat bread, or milk, when it might fall a
little short. Of corn, at a dollar a bushel, it would give him eight
pounds a day--far more than a family ought to consume, if they ate
nothing else; and of potatoes, at forty cents a bushel, above twenty
pounds, or one third of a bushel--more than sufficient for the family of
an Hibernian.
Now, let me ask how much beef, or lamb, or pork, or sausages, or eggs,
or cheese, this would buy? At ten cents a pound for each, which is
comparatively low, it would buy five hundred pounds; about one pound and
six ounces for the whole family, or four or five ounces each a day. This
would be an average amount of nutriment equal to that of about two
ounces of grain, or bread of grain, a day, to each individual. In so far
as laid out in butter, or chicken, or turkey, at twenty cents a pound,
it would give also about two or three ounces a day!
Further remarks under this head can hardly be necessary. He who
considers the subject in its various aspects, will be likely to see the
weight of the argument. There is a wide difference between a system
which will give to each member of a family, upon the average, only about
four or five ounces of food a day, and one which will give each of them
more than twenty-five ounces a day, each ounce of the latter containing
twice the nutriment of the former, and being much more savory and
healthy at the same time. There is a wide difference, in matters of
economy, at least, between ONE and TEN.
I will only add, under this head, a few tables. The first is to show the
comparative amount of nutritious matter contained in some of the leading
articles of human food, both animal and vegetable. It is derived from
the researches of such men as MM. Percy and Vauquelin, of France, and
Sir Humphrey Davy, of England.
100 pounds of Wheat contain 85 pounds of nutritious matter.
" " Rice " 90 " " "
" " Rye " 80 " " "
" " Barley " 83 " " "
" " Peas " 93 " " "
" " Lentils " 94 " " "
" " Beans 89 to 92 " " "
" " Bread (average) 80 " " "
" " Meat (average) 35 " " "
" " Potatoes contain 25 " " "
" " Beets " 14 " " "
" " Carrots 10 to 14 " " "
" " Cabbage " 7 " " "
" " Greens, turnips 4 to 8 " "
Of course, it does not follow that every individual will be able to
extract just this amount of nutriment from each article; for, in this
respect, as well as in others, much will depend on circumstances.
The second table is from Mr. James Simpson, of Manchester, England, in a
small work entitled, "The Products of the Vegetable Kingdom versus
Animal Food," recently published in London. Its facts are derived from
Dr. Playfair, Boussingault, and other high authorities. It will be seen
to refute, entirely, the popular notions concerning the Liebig theory.
The truth is, Liebig's views are misunderstood. His views are not so
much opposed to mine as many suppose. Besides, neither he nor I are
infallible.
Flesh Heat Ashes
forming forming for
Solid matter. Water. principle. principle. the bones.
Potatoes, 28 per ct. 72 per ct. 2 per ct. 25 per ct. 1 per ct.
Turnips, 11 " 89 " 1 " 9 " 1 "
Barley Meal, 84-1/2 " 15-1/2 " 14 " 68-1/2 " 2 "
Beans, 86 " 14 " 31 " 51-1/2 " 3 "
Oats, 82 " 18 " 11 " 68 " 3 "
Wheat, 85-1/2 " 14-1/2 " 21 " 62 " 2-1/2 "
Peas, 84 " 16 " 29 " 51-1/2 " 3-1/2 "
Carrots, 13 " 87 " 2 " 10 " 1 "
Veal, 25 " 75 " {
Beef, 25 " 75 " { 25
Mutton, 25 " 75 " {
Lamb, 25 " 75 " {
Blood, 20 " 80 " 20
VI. THE ARGUMENT FROM EXPERIENCE.
A person trained in the United States or in England--but especially one
who was trained in New England--might very naturally suppose that all
the world were flesh-eaters; and that the person who abstains from an
article which is at almost every one's table, was quite singular. He
would, perhaps, suppose there must be something peculiar in his
structure, to enable him to live without either flesh or fish;
particularly, if he were a laborer. Little would he dream--little does a
person who has not had much opportunity for reading, and who has not
been taught to reflect, and who has never traveled a day's journey from
the place which gave him birth, even so much as dream--that almost all
the world, or at least almost all the hard-laboring part of it, are
vegetable-eaters, and always have been; and that it is only in a few
comparatively small portions of the civilized and half-civilized world,
that the bone and sinew of our race ever eat flesh or fish for any thing
more than as a condiment or seasoning to the rest of their food, or even
taste it at all. And yet such is the fact.
It is true, that in a vast majority of cases, as I have already
intimated, laborers are vegetable-eaters from necessity: they cannot get
flesh. Almost all mankind, as they are usually trained, are fond of
extra stimulants, if they can get them; and whether they are called
savages or civilized men, will indulge in them more or less, if they are
to be had, unless their intellectual and moral natures have been so well
developed and cultivated, as to have acquired the ascendency. Spirits,
wine, cider, beer, coffee, tea, condiments, tobacco, opium, snuff, flesh
meat, and a thousand other things, which excite, for a time, more
pleasurable sensations than water and plain vegetables and fruits, will
be sought with more or less eagerness according to the education which
has been received, and according to our power of self-government.
I have said that most persons are vegetable-eaters from necessity, not
from choice. There are some tribes in the equatorial regions who seem to
be exceptions to this rule; and yet I am not quite satisfied they are
so. Some children, among us, who are trained to a very simple diet, will
seem to shrink from tea or coffee, or alcohol, or camphor, and even from
any thing which is much heated, when first presented to them. But, train
the same children to the ordinary, complex, high-seasoned diet of this
country, and it will not take long to find out that they are ready to
acquire the habit of relishing the excitement of almost all sorts of
_unnaturals_ which can be presented to them. And if there are tribes of
men who at first refuse flesh meat, I apprehend they do so for the same
reasons which lead a child among us, who is trained simply to refuse hot
food and drink, or at least, hot tea and coffee, when the latter are
first presented to him.
Gutzlaff, the Chinese traveler and missionary, has found that the
Chinese of the interior, who have scarcely ever tasted flesh or fish,
soon acquire a wonderful relish for it, just as our children do for
spirituous or exciting drinks and drugs, and as savages do for tobacco
and spirits. But he has also made another discovery, which is, that
flesh-eating almost ruins them for labor. Instead of being strong,
robust, and active, they soon become lazy, self-indulgent, and
effeminate. This is a specimen--perhaps a tolerably fair one--of the
natural tendency of such food in all ages and countries. Man every where
does best, nationally and individually, other things being equal, on a
well-chosen diet of vegetables, fruits, and water. In proportion as
individuals or families, or tribes or nations, depart from this--other
things being equal--in the same proportion do they degenerate
physically, intellectually, and morally.
Such a statement may startle some of my New England readers, perhaps,
who have never had opportunity to become acquainted with facts as they
are. But can it be successfully controverted? Is it not true, that, with
a few exceptions--and those more apparent than real--nations have
flourished, and continued to flourish, in proportion as they have
retained the more natural dietetic habits to which I have alluded; and
that they have been unhappy or short-lived, as nations, in proportion as
exciting food and drink have been used? Is it not true, that those
individuals, families, tribes, and nations, which have used what I call
excitements, liquid or solid, have been subjected by them to the same
effects which follow the use of spirits--first, invigoration, and
subsequently decline, and ultimately a loss of strength? Why is it that
the more wealthy, all over Europe, who get flesh more or less,
deteriorate in their families so rapidly? Why is it that every thing is,
in this respect, so stationary among the middle classes and the poor?
In short--for the case appears to me a plain one--it is the simple
habits of some, whether we speak of nations, families, or individuals,
which have preserved the world from going to utter decay. In ancient
times, the Egyptians, the most enlightened and one of the most enduring
of nations, were what might properly be called a vegetable-eating
nation; so were the ancient Persians, in the days of their greatest
glory; so the Essenes, among the Jews; so the Romans, as I have said
elsewhere, and the Greeks. If either Moses or Herodotus is to be
credited, men lived, in ancient times, about a thousand years. Indeed,
empire seems to have departed from among the ancient nations precisely
when simplicity departed. So it is with nations still. A flesh-eating
nation may retain the supremacy of the world a short time, as several
European and American nations have done; just as the laborer, whose
brain and nerves are stimulated by ardent spirits, may for a time
retain--through the medium of an artificial strength--the ascendency
among his fellow-laborers; but the triumph of both the nation and the
individual must be short, and the debility which follows proportionable.
And if the United States, as a nation, seem to form an exception to the
truth of this remark, it is only because the stage of debility has not
yet arrived. Let us be patient, however, for it is not far off.
But to come to the specification of facts. The Japanese of the interior,
according to some of the British geographers, live principally on rice
and fruits--a single handful of rice often forming the basis of their
frugal meal. Flesh, it is said, they either cannot get, or do not like;
and to milk, even, they have the same sort of aversion which most of us
have to blood. It is only a few of them, comparatively, and those
principally who live about the coasts, who ever use either flesh or
fish. And yet we have the concurring testimony of all geographers and
travelers, that in their physical and intellectual development, at
least, to say nothing of their moral peculiarities, they are the finest
men in all Asia. In what other country of Asia are schools and early
education in such high reputation as in Japan? Where are the inhabitants
so well formed, so stout made, and so robust? Compare them with the
natives of New Holland, in the same, or nearly the same longitude, and
about as far south of the equator as the Japanese are north of it, and
what a contrast! The New Hollanders, though eating flesh liberally, are
not only mere savages, but they are among the most meagre and wretched
of the human race. On the contrary, the Japanese, in mind and body, are
scarcely behind the middle nations of Europe.
Nearly the same remarks will apply to China, and with little
modification, to Hindostan. In short, the hundreds of millions of
southern Asia are, for the most part, vegetable-eaters; and a large
proportion of them live chiefly, if not wholly on rice, though by no
means the most favorable vegetable for exclusive use. What countries
like these have maintained their ancient, moral, intellectual, and
political landmarks? Grant that they have made but little improvement
from century to century; it is something not to have deteriorated. Let
us proceed with our general view of the world, ancient and modern.
The Jews of Palestine, two thousand years ago, lived chiefly on
vegetable food. Flesh, of certain kinds, was indeed admissible, by their
law; but, except at their feasts and on special occasions, they ate
chiefly bread, milk, honey, and fruits.
Lawrence says that "the Greeks and Romans, in the periods of their
greatest simplicity, manliness, and bravery, appear to have lived almost
entirely on plain vegetable preparations."
The Irish of modern days, as well as the Scotch, are confined almost
wholly to vegetable food. So are the Italians, the Germans, and many
other nations of modern Europe. Yet, where shall we look for finer
specimens of bodily health, strength, and vigor, than in these very
countries? The females, especially, where shall we look for their
equals? The men, even--the Scotch and Irish, for example--are they
weaker than their brethren, the English, who use more animal food?
It will be said, perhaps, the vegetable-eating Europeans are not always
distinguished for vigorous minds. True; but this, it may be maintained,
arises from their degraded physical condition, generally; and that
neglect of mental and moral cultivation which accompanies it. A few,
even here, like comets in the material system, have occasionally broken
out, and emitted no faint light in the sphere in which they were
destined to move.
But we are not confined to Europe. The South Sea Islanders, in many
instances, feed almost wholly on vegetable substances; yet their agility
and strength are so great, that it is said "the stoutest and most expert
English sailors, had no chance with them in wrestling and boxing."
We come, lastly, to Africa, the greater part of whose millions feed on
rice, dates, etc.; yet their bodily powers are well known.
In short, more than half of the 800,000,000 of human beings which
inhabit our globe live on vegetables; or, if they get meat at all, it is
so rarely that it can hardly have any effect on their structure or
character. Out of Europe and the United States--I might even say, out of
the latter--the use of animal food is either confined to a few meagre,
weak, timid nations, like the Esquimaux, the Greenlanders, the
Laplanders, the Samoiedes, the Kamtschadales, the Ostiacs, and the
natives of Siberia and Terra del Fuego; or those wealthier classes, or
individuals of every country, who are able to range lawlessly over the
Creator's domains, and select, for their tables, whatever fancy or
fashion, or a capricious appetite may dictate, or physical power afford
them.
VII. THE MORAL ARGUMENT.
In one point of view, nearly every argument which can be brought to show
the superiority of a vegetable diet over one that includes flesh or
fish, is a moral argument.
Thus, if man is so constituted by his structure, and by the laws of his
animal economy, that all the functions of the body, and of course all
the faculties of the mind, and the affections of the soul, are in better
condition--better subserve our own purposes, and the purposes of the
great Creator--as well as hold out longer, on the vegetable system--then
is it desirable, in a moral point of view, to adopt it. If mankind lose,
upon the average, about two years of their lives by sickness, as some
have estimated it,[24] saying nothing of the pain and suffering
undergone, or of the mental anguish and soul torment which grow out of
it, and often render life a burden; and if the simple primitive custom
of living on vegetables and fruits, along with other good physical and
mental habits, which seem naturally connected with it, will, in time,
nearly if not wholly remove or prevent this amazing loss, then is the
argument deduced therefrom, in another part of this chapter, a moral
argument.
If, as I have endeavored to show, the adoption of the vegetable system
by nations and individuals, would greatly advance the happiness of all,
in every known respect, and if, on this account, such a change in our
flesh-eating countries would be sound policy, and good economy,--then we
have another moral argument in its favor.
But, again; if it be true that all nations have been the most virtuous
and flourishing, other things being equal, in the days of their
simplicity in regard to food, drink, etc.; and if we can, in every
instance, connect the decline of a nation with the period of their
departure, as a nation, into the maze of luxurious and enervating
habits; and if this doctrine is, as a general rule, obviously applicable
to smaller classes of men, down to single families, then is the argument
we derive from it in its nature a moral one. Whatever really tends,
without the possibility of mistake, to the promotion of human happiness,
here and hereafter, is, without doubt, moral.
But this, though much, is not all. The destruction of animals for food,
in its details and tendencies, involves so much of cruelty as to cause
every reflecting individual--not destitute of the ordinary sensibilities
of our nature--to shudder. I recall: daily observation shows that such
is not the fact; nor should it, upon second thought, be expected. Where
all are dark, the color is not perceived; and so universally are the
moral sensibilities which really belong to human nature deadened by the
customs which prevail among us, that few, if any, know how to estimate,
rightly, the evil of which I speak. They have no more a correct idea of
a true sensibility--not a _morbid_ one--on this subject, than a blind
man has of colors; and for nearly the same reasons. And on this account
it is, that I seem to shrink from presenting, at this time, those
considerations which, I know, cannot, from the very nature of the case,
be properly understood or appreciated, except by a very few.
Still there are some things which, I trust, may be made plain. It must
be obvious that the custom of rendering children familiar with the
taking away of life, even when it is done with a good degree of
tenderness, cannot have a very happy effect. But, when this is done, not
only without tenderness or sympathy, but often with manifestations of
great pleasure, and when children, as in some cases, are almost
constant witnesses of such scenes, how dreadful must be the results!
In this view, the world, I mean our own portion of it, sometimes seems
to me like one mighty slaughter-house--one grand school for the
suppression of every kind, and tender, and brotherly feeling--one grand
process of education to the entire destitution of all moral
principle--one vast scene of destruction to all moral sensibility, and
all sympathy with the woes of those around us. Is it not so?
I have seen many boys who shuddered, at first, at the thought of taking
the life, even of a snake, until compelled to it by what they conceived
to be duty; and who shuddered still more at taking the life of a lamb, a
calf, a pig, or a fowl. And yet I have seen these same boys, in
subsequent life, become so changed, that they could look on such scenes
not merely with indifference, but with gratification. Is this change of
feeling desirable? How long is it after we begin to look with
indifference on pain and suffering in brutes, before we begin to be less
affected than before by human suffering?
I am not ignorant that sentiments like these are either regarded as
morbid, and therefore pitiable, or as affected, and therefore
ridiculous. Who that has read the story of Anthony Benezet, as related
by Dr. Rush, has not smiled at what he must have regarded a feeling
wholly misplaced, if nothing more? And yet it was a feeling which I
think is very far from deserving ridicule, however homely the manner of
expressing it. But I have related this interesting story in another part
of the work.
I am not prepared to maintain, strongly, the old-fashioned doctrine,
that a butcher who commences his employment at adult age, is necessarily
rendered hardhearted or unfeeling; or, that they who eat flesh have
their sensibilities deadened, and their passions inflamed by it--though
I am not sure that there is not some truth in it. I only maintain, that
to render children familiar with the taking away of animal
life,--especially the lives of our own domestic animals, often endeared
to us by many interesting circumstances of their history, or of our own,
in relation to them,--cannot be otherwise than unhappy in its tendency.
How shocking it must be to the inhabitants of Jupiter, or some other
planet, who had never before witnessed these sad effects of the ingress
of sin among us, to see the carcasses of animals, either whole or by
piece-meal, hoisted upon our very tables before the faces of children of
all ages, from the infant at the breast, to the child of ten or twelve,
or fourteen, and carved, and swallowed; and this not merely once, but
from day to day, through life! What could they--what would they--expect
from such an education of the young mind and heart? What, indeed, but
mourning, desolation, and woe!
On this subject the First Annual Report of the American Physiological
Society thus remarks--and I wish the remark might have its due weight on
the mind of the reader:
"How can it be right to be instrumental in so much unnecessary
slaughter? How can it be right, especially for a country of vegetable
abundance like ours, to give daily employment to twenty thousand or
thirty thousand butchers? How can it be right to train our children to
behold such slaughter? How can it be right to blunt the edge of their
moral sensibilities, by placing before them, at almost every meal, the
mangled corpses of the slain; and not only placing them there, but
rejoicing while we feast upon them?"
One striking evidence of the tendency which an habitual shedding of
blood has on the mind and heart, is found in the fact that females are
generally so reluctant to take away life, that notwithstanding they are
trained to a fondness for all sorts of animal food, very few are willing
to gratify their desires for a stimulating diet, by becoming their own
butchers. I have indeed seen females who would kill a fowl or a lamb
rather than go without it; but they are exceedingly rare. And who would
not regard female character as tarnished by a familiarity with such
scenes as those to which I have referred? But if the keen edge of female
delicacy and sensibility would be blunted by scenes of bloodshed, are
not the moral sensibilities of our own sex affected in a similar way?
And must it not, then, have a deteriorating tendency?
It cannot be otherwise than that the circumstances of which I have
spoken, which so universally surround infancy and childhood, should take
off, gradually, the keen edge of moral sensibility, and lessen every
virtuous or holy sympathy. I have watched--I believe impartially--the
effect on certain sensitive young persons in the circle of my
acquaintance. I have watched myself. The result has confirmed the
opinion I have just expressed. No child, I think, can walk through a
common market or slaughter-house without receiving moral injury; nor am
I quite sure that any virtuous adult can.
How have I been struck with the change produced in the young mind by
that merriment which often accompanies the slaughter of an innocent
fowl, or lamb, or pig! How can the Christian, with the Bible in hand,
and the merciful doctrines of its pages for his text,
"Teach me to feel another's woe,"
--the beast's not excepted--and yet, having laid down that Bible, go at
once from the domestic altar to make light of the convulsions and exit
of a poor domestic animal?
Is it said, that these remarks apply only to the _abuse_ of a thing,
which, in its place, is proper? Is it said, that there is no necessity
of levity on these occasions? Grant that there is none; still the result
is almost inevitable. But there is, in any event, one way of avoiding,
or rather preventing both the abuse and the occasion for abuse, by
ceasing to kill animals for food; and I venture to predict that the evil
never will be prevented otherwise.
The usual apology for hunting and fishing, in all their various and
often cruel forms,--whereby so many of our youth, from the setters of
snares for birds, and the anglers for trout, to the whalemen, are
educated to cruelty, and steeled to every virtuous and holy
sympathy,--is, the necessity of the animals whom we pursue for food. I
know, indeed, that this is not, in most cases, the true reason, but it
is the reason given--it is the substance of the reason. It serves as an
apology. They who make it may often be ignorant of the true reason, or
they or others may wish to conceal it; and, true to human nature, they
are ready to give every reason for their conduct, but the real and most
efficient one.
It must not, indeed, be concealed that there is one more apology usually
made for these cruel sports; and made too, in some instances, by good
men; I mean, by men whose intentions are in the main pure and excellent.
These sports are healthy, they tell us. They are a relief to mind and
body. Perhaps no good man, in our own country, has defended them with
more ingenuity, or with more show of reason and good sense, than Dr.
Comstock, in his recent popular work on Human Physiology. And yet, there
is scarcely a single advantage which he has pointed out, as being
derived from the "pleasures of the chase," that may not be gained in a
way which savors less of blood. The doctor himself is too much in love
with botany, geology, mineralogy, and the various branches of natural
history, not to know what I mean when I say this. He knows full well the
excitement, and, on his own principles, the consequent relief of body
and mind from their accustomed and often painful round, which grows out
of clambering over mountains and hills, and fording streams, and
climbing trees and rocks, to need any very broad hints on the subject;
to say nothing of the delights of agriculture and horticulture. How
could he, then, give currency to practices which, to say the least,--and
by his own concessions, too,--are doubtful in regard to their moral
tendencies, by inserting his opinions in favor of sports, for which he
himself happens to be partial, in a school-book? Is this worthy of those
who would educate the youth of our land on the principles of the Bible?
VIII. THE MILLENNIAL ARGUMENT
I believe it is conceded by most intelligent men, that all the arguments
we bring against the use of animal food, which are derived from anatomy,
physiology, or the laws of health, or even of psychology, are well
founded. But they still say, "Man is not what he once was; he is
strangely perverted; that custom, or habit, which soon becomes second
nature, and often proves stronger to us than first nature, has so
changed him that he is more a creature of art than of nature, or at
least of _first_ nature. And though animal food was not necessary to him
at first--perhaps not in accordance with his best interests--yet it has
become so by long use; and as a creature of art rather than of nature,
he now seems to require it."
This reasoning, at first view, appears very _specious_. But upon second
view, we see it is wanting--greatly so--in solidity. It takes for
granted, as I understand it, that what we call civilization, has
rendered animal food necessary to man. But is it not obvious that the
condition of things which is thus supposed to render this species of
food necessary, is not likely to disappear--nay, that it is every
century becoming more and more the law, so to speak, of the land? Who is
to stop the labor-saving machine, the railroad car, or the lightning
flash of intelligence?
And do not these considerations, if they prove any thing, prove quite
too much? For if, in the onward career of what is thus called
civilization, we have gone from a diet which scarcely required the use
of animal food in order to render it both palatable and healthful, to
one in whose dishes it is generally blended in some one or more of its
forms, must we not expect that a still further progress in the same
course will render the same kind of diet still more indispensable? If
flesh, fish, fowl, butter, cheese, eggs, lard, etc., are much more
necessary to us now, than they were a thousand years ago, will they not
be still more necessary a thousand years hence?
I do not see how we can avoid such a conclusion. And yet such a
conclusion will involve us in very serious difficulties. In Japan and
China--the former more especially--if the march of civilization should
be found to have rendered animal food more necessary, it has at the same
time rendered it less accessible to the mass of the population. The
great increase of the human species has crowded out the animals, even
the domestic ones. Some of the old historians and geographers tell us
that there are not so many domestic animals in the whole kingdom of
Japan, as in a single township of Sweden. And must not all nations, as
society progresses and the millennium dawns, crowd out the animals in
the same way? It cannot be otherwise. True, there may remain about the
same supply as at present from the rivers and seas, and perchance from
the air; but what can these do for the increasing hundreds of millions
of such large countries? What do they for Japan? In short, if the
reasoning above were good and valid, it would seem to show that
precisely at the point of civilization where animal food becomes most
necessary, at precisely that point it becomes most scarce.
These things do not seem to me to go well together. We must reject the
one or the other. If we believe in a millennium, we must, inevitably,
give up our belief in animal food, at least the belief that its
necessity grows out of the increasing wants of society. Or if, on the
other hand, we believe in the increasing necessity of animal food, we
must banish from our minds all hope of what we call a millennium, at
least for the present.
IX. THE BIBLE ARGUMENT.
It is not at all uncommon for those who find themselves driven from all
their strong-holds, in this matter, to fly to the Bible. Our Saviour ate
flesh and fish, say they; and the God of the New Testament, as well as
of the Old, in this and other ways, not only permitted but sanctioned
its use.
But, to say nothing of the folly of going, for proof of every thing we
wish to prove, to a book which was never given for this purpose, or of
the fact that in thus adducing Scripture to prove our favorite
doctrines, we often go too far, and prove too much; is it true that the
Saviour ate flesh and fish? Or, if this could be proved, is it true that
his example binds us forever to that which other evidence as well as
science show to be of doubtful utility? Paul did not think so, most
certainly. It is good neither to eat flesh nor to drink wine, he says,
if it cause our brother to offend. Did not Paul understand, at least as
well as we, the precepts and example of our Saviour?
And as to a permission to Noah and his descendants, the Jews, to use
animal food--was it not for the hardness of the human heart, as our
Saviour calls it? From the beginning, was it so? Is not man, in the
first chapter of Genesis, constituted a vegetable-eater? Was his
constitution ever altered? And if so, when and where? Will they who fly
to the Bible for their support, in this particular, please to tell us?
But it is idle to go to the Bible, on this subject. I mean, it is idle
to pretend to do so, when we mean not so much. Men who _incline_ to wine
and other alcoholic drinks, plead the example and authority of the
Bible. Yet you will hardly find a man who drinks wine simply because he
believes the Bible justifies its use. He drinks it for other reasons,
and then makes the foolish excuse that the Bible is on his side. So in
regard to the use of flesh meat. Find a man who really uses flesh or
fish _because_ the Bible requires him to do so, and I will then discuss
the question with him on Bible ground. Till that time, further argument
on this direction is unnecessary.
CONCLUSION.
But I must conclude this long essay. There is one consideration,
however, which I am unwilling to omit, although, in deciding on the
merits of the question before us, it may not have as much
weight--regarded as a part of the moral argument--on every mind, as it
has on my own.
Suppose the great Creator were to make a new world somewhere in the
regions of infinite space, and to fit it out in most respects like our
own. It is to be the place and abode of such minerals, vegetables, and
animals as our own. Instead, however, of peopling it gradually, he fills
it at once with inhabitants; and instead of having the arts and the
sciences in their infancy, he creates every thing in full maturity. In a
word, he makes a world which shall be exactly a copy of our own, with
the single exception that the 800,000,000 of free agents in it shall be
supposed to be wholly ignorant in regard to the nature of the food
assigned them. But the new world is created, we will suppose, at
sunrise, in October. The human inhabitants thereof have stomachs, and
soon, that is, by mid-day or before night, feel the pangs of hunger.
Now, what will they eat?
The world being mature, every thing in it is, of course, mature. Around,
on every hand, are cornfields with their rich treasures; above, that is,
in the boughs of the orchards, hang the rich russets, pippins, and the
various other excellent kinds of the apple, with which our own country
and other temperate climates abound. In tropical regions, of course,
almost every vegetable production is flourishing at that season, as well
as the corn and the apple. Or, he has but to look on the surface of the
earth on which he stands, and there are the potatoe, the turnip, the
beet, and many other esculent roots; to say nothing of the squash, the
pumpkin, the melon, the chestnut, the walnut, the beechnut, the
butternut, the hazelnut, etc.,--most of which are nourishing, and more
or less wholesome, and are in full view. Around him, too, are the
animals. I am willing even to admit the domestic animal--the horse, the
ox, the sheep, the dog, the cat, the rabbit, the turkey, the goose, the
hen, yes, and even the pig. And now, I ask again, what will he eat? He
is destitute of experience, and he has no example. But he has a stomach,
and he is hungry: he has hands and he has teeth; the world is all before
him, and he is the lord of it, at least so far as to use such food in it
as he pleases.
Does any one believe that, in these circumstances, man would prey upon
the animals around him? Does any person believe--can he for one moment
believe--he would forthwith imbrue his hands in blood, whether that of
his own species or of some other? Would he pass by the mellow apple,
hanging in richest profusion every where, inviting him as it were by its
beauties? Would he pass by the fields, with their golden ears? Would he
despise the rich products of field, and forest, and garden, and hasten
to seize the axe or the knife, and, ere the blood had ceased to flow, or
the muscles to quiver, give orders to his fair but affrighted companion
within to prepare the fire, and make ready the gridiron or the spider?
Or, without the knowledge even of this, or the patience to wait for the
tedious process of cooking to be completed, would he eat raw the
precious morsel? Does any one believe this? Can any one--I repeat the
question--can any one believe it?
On the contrary, would not every living human being revolt, at first,
from the idea, let it be suggested as it might, of plunging his hands in
blood? Can there be a doubt that he would direct his attention at
first--yes, and for a long time afterward--to the vegetable world for
his food? Would it not take months and years to reconcile his
feelings--his moral nature--to the thought of flesh-mangling or
flesh-eating? At least, would not this be the result, if he were a
disciple of Christianity? Although professing Christians, as the world
is now constituted, do not hesitate to commit such depredations, would
they do so in the circumstances we have supposed?
I am sure there can be but one opinion on this subject; although I
confess it impossible for me to say how it may strike other minds
constituted somewhat differently from my own. With me, this
consideration of the subject has weight and importance. It is not
necessary, however. The argument--the moral argument, I mean--is
sufficient, as it seems to me, without it. What then shall we say of the
anatomical, the physiological, the medical, the political, the
economical, the experimental, the Bible, the millennial, and the moral
arguments, when united? Have they not force? Are they not a nine-fold
cord, not easily broken? Is it not too late in the day of human
improvement to meet them with no argument but ignorance, and with no
other weapon but ridicule?
FOOTNOTES:
[21] For proof that arsenic or ratsbane is sometimes added to cheese,
see the Library of Health, volume ii., page 69. In proof of the
poisonous tendency of milk and butter, see Whitlaw's Theory of Fever,
and Clark's Treatise on Pulmonary Consumption.
[22] See Dunglison's Hygiene, page 250.
[23] The Young Housekeeper.
[24] Or, more nearly, perhaps, a year and a half, in this country. In
England, it is one year and five-sevenths.
OUTLINES
OF A
NEW SYSTEM OF FOOD AND COOKERY.
In the work of revising and preparing the foregoing volume for
publication, the writer was requested to add to it a system of vegetable
cookery. At first he refused to do so, both on account of the difficulty
of bringing so extensive a subject within the compass of twenty or
thirty pages, and because it did not seem to him to be called for, in
connection with the present volume. But he has yielded his own judgment
to the importunity of the publishers and other friends of the work, and
prepared a mere outline or skeleton of what he may hereafter fill up,
should circumstances and the necessary leisure permit.
But there is one difficulty to be met with at the very threshold of the
subject. Vegetable eaters are not so hard driven to find whereon to
subsist, as many appear to suppose. For the question is continually
asked, "If you dispense wholly with flesh and fish, pray what can you
find to eat?" Now, while we are aware that one small sect of the
vegetarians--the followers of Dr. Schlemmer--eat every thing in a raw
state, we are, for ourselves, full believers in plain and simple
cookery. That a potato, for example, is better cooked than uncooked,
both for man and beast, we have not the slightest doubt. We believe that
a system of preparing food which renders the raw material more
palatable, more digestible, and more nutritious, or perhaps all this at
once, must be legitimate, and even preferable--if not for the
individual, at least for the race.
But the difficulty alluded to is, how to select a few choice dishes from
the wide range--short of flesh and fish--which God and nature permit.
For if we believed in the use of eggs when commingled with food, we
should hardly deem it proper to go the whole length of our French
brethren, who have nearly seven hundred vegetable dishes, of which eggs
form a component part; nor the whole length even to which our own
powers of invention might carry us; no, nor even the whole length to
which the writer of an English work now before us, and entitled
"Vegetable Cookery," has gone--the extent of about a thousand plain
receipts. We believe the whole nature of man, and even his appetite,
when unperverted, is best served and most fully satisfied with a range
of dishes which shall hardly exceed hundreds.
It is held by Dr. Dunglison, Dr. Paris, and many of the old school
writers, that all made dishes--all mixtures of food--are "more or less
rebellious;" that is, more or less indigestible, and consequently more
or less hurtful. If they mean by this, that in spite of the
accommodating power of the stomach to the individual, they are hurtful
to the race, I go with them most fully. But I do _not_ believe that _all
made dishes, to all persons_, are so directly injurious as many suppose.
God has made man, in a certain sense, omnivorous. His physical stomach
can receive and assimilate, like his mental stomach, a great variety of
substances; and both can go on, without apparent disease, for a great
many years, and perhaps for a tolerably long life in this way.
There is, however, a higher question for man to ask as a rational being
and as a Christian, than whether this or that dish will hurt him
directly. It is, whether a dish or article is _best_ for him--best for
body, mind, and heart--best for the whole human nature--best for the
whole interests of the whole race--best for time, and best for eternity.
Startle not, reader, at this assertion. If West could properly say, "I
paint for eternity," the true disciple of Christ and truth can say, "I
eat and drink for eternity." And a higher authority than any that is
merely human has even required us to do so.
This places the subject of preparing food on high ground. And were I to
carry out my plan fully, I should exclude from a Christian system of
food and cookery all mixtures, properly so called, and all medicines or
condiments. Not that all mixtures are equally hurtful to the well-being
of the race, nor all medicines. Indeed, considering our training and
habits, some of both, to most persons, have become necessary. I know of
many whose physical inheritance is such, that salt, if not a few other
medicinal substances, have become at least present necessaries to them.
And to those mixtures of substances closely allied, as farina with
farina--meal of one kind with meal of another--I could scarcely have any
objection, myself. Nature objects to incompatibles, and therefore I do;
and medicine, and all those kinds of food which are opposed one to
another, are incompatible with each other. When one is in the stomach,
the other should not be.
I have spoken of carrying out my plan, but this I cannot now fully do.
It would not be borne, till, as Lord Bacon used to say, "some time be
passed over." But, on the other hand, I am unwilling to give directions,
as I did ten or twelve years ago, in my Young Housekeeper, such as shall
pander to a perverted--most abominably perverted--public taste. Man is
made for progress, and it is high time the public standard were raised
in regard to food and cookery.
Although grains and fruits are the natural food of man, yet there are a
variety of shapes in which the grains or farinacea may be presented to
us; and there are a few substances fit for food which do not properly
belong to either of these classes. I shall treat first of the different
kinds of food prepared from grain or farinaceous substances; secondly,
of fruits; thirdly, of roots; and fourthly, speak of a few articles that
do not properly belong to any of the three.
While, therefore, as will be seen by the remarks already made, I have
many things to say that the community cannot yet bear, it need not
escape the observation of the most careless reader, that I aim at
nothing less than an entire ultimate subversion of the present system of
cookery, believing it to be utterly at war with the laws of God, and of
man's whole nature.
CLASS I.--FARINACEOUS, OR MEALY SUBSTANCES.
The principal of these are wheat, oats, Indian corn, rice, rye, barley,
buckwheat, millet, chestnuts, peas, beans, and lentils. They are
prepared in various forms.
DIVISION I.--BREAD.
The true idea of bread is that coarse or cracked and unbolted meal,
formed into a mass of dough by means of water, and immediately baked in
loaves of greater or less thickness, according to the fancy.
Some use bolted meal; most raise bread by fermentation; many use salt;
some saleratus, or carbonate of potash; and, in the country, many use
milk instead of water to form the paste. I might also mention several
other additions, which, like saleratus, it is becoming fashionable to
make.
All these things are a departure, greater or less, from the true idea
of a bread; and bread made with any of these changes, is so much the
less perfectly adapted to the promotion of health, happiness, and
longevity.
Bolting is objectionable, because bread made from bolted meal,
especially when eaten hot, is more apt, when the digestive powers are
not very vigorous, to form a paste, which none but very strong stomachs
can entirely overcome. Besides, it takes out a part of the sweetness, or
life, as it is termed, of the flour. They who say fine flour bread is
sweetest, are led into this mistake by the force of habit, and by the
fact that the latter comes in contact, more readily than coarse bread,
with the papillæ of the tongue, and seems to have more taste to it
because it touches at more points.
Raising bread by inducing fermentation, wastes a part of the saccharine
matter; and the more it is raised, the greater is the waste. By
lessening the attraction of cohesion, it makes it more easy of
digestion, it is true; but the loss of nutriment and of pleasure to the
true appetite more than counterbalances this. Bakers, in striving to get
a large loaf, rob the bread of most of its sweetness.
Salt is objectionable, because it hardens the bread, and renders it more
difficult of digestion. Our ancestors, in this country, did not use it
at all; and many are the families that will not use it now.
Those who use salt in bread, tell us how _flat_ it would taste without
it. This idea of flatness has two sources. 1. We have so long given our
bread the taste of salt, as we have most other things, that it seems
tasteless without it. 2. The flatness spoken of in an article of food is
oftentimes the true taste of the article, unaltered by any stimulus. If
any two articles need to be stimulated with salt, however, it is rice
and beans--bread never.
If saleratus is used in bread where no acidity is present, it is a
medicine; or, if you please, a poison both to the stomach and
intestines. If it meets and neutralizes an acid either in the bread-tray
or the stomach, the residuum is a new chemical compound diffused through
the bread, which is more or less injurious, according to its nature and
quantity.
Milk is objectionable on the score of its tendency to render the bread
more indigestible than when it was wet with water, and perhaps by
rendering it too nutritious. For good bread without the milk is already
too nutritious for health, if eaten exclusively, for a long time. That
man should not live on bread alone, is as true physically as it is
morally.
No bread should be eaten while new and hot--though the finer it is, the
worse for health when thus eaten. Old bread, heated again, is less
hurtful. But if eaten both new and hot, and with butter or milk, or any
thing which soaks and fills it, the effect is very bad. Mrs. Howland, in
her Economical Housekeeper, says much about _ripe_ bread. And I should
be glad to say as much, had I room, about ripe bread, and about the true
philosophy of bread and bread-making, as she has.
SECTION A.--_Bread of the first order._
This is made of coarse meal--as coarse as it can well be ground,
provided the kernels are all broken. The grain should be well washed,
and it may be ground in the common way, or according to the oriental
mode, in hand-mills. The latter mode is preferable, because you can thus
have it fresh. Meal is somewhat injured by being kept long ground.
If great pains is not taken to have the grain clean when ground, it
needs to be passed through a coarse sieve, that all foreign bodies may
be carefully separated. The hulls of corn, and especially the husks of
oats and buckwheat, should also be separated in some way. In no case,
however, should meal be bolted. Good health requires that we eat the
innutritious and coarser parts as well as the finer.
RECEIPT 1.--Take a sufficient quantity of good, recent wheat meal;[25]
wet it well, but not too soft, with pure water; form it into thin cakes,
and bake it as hard as the teeth will bear. Remember, however, that the
saliva aids the teeth greatly, especially when you masticate your food
slowly. The cakes should be very thin--the thinner the better. Many,
however, prefer them an inch thick, or even more.
RECEIPT 2.--Oat meal prepared in the same manner. Procure what is called
the Scotch kiln dried oat meal, if you can. No matter if it is
manufactured in New England, if it is well done.
RECEIPT 3.--Indian meal cakes, otherwise called hoe cakes, or Johnny
cakes, are next in point of value to bread made of wheat and oats. They
are most healthy, however, in cold weather.
RECEIPT 4.--Rye cakes come next. Warm instead of cold water is often
used to wet all the above. Some even choose to scald the meal. Fancy may
be indulged in this particular, only you must remember that warm water
in warm weather may soon give rise, if the mass stands long, to a degree
of fermentation, which, for the best bread, should be avoided.
RECEIPT 5.--Barley meal bread comes next in order in the unleavened
series. In regard to this species of bread, however, I do not speak from
experience, but from report.
RECEIPT 6.--Of millet bread I know still less. Cakes made of it, as
above, must certainly be wholesome.
RECEIPT 7.--Buckwheat cakes are last in the series of the best breads.
The meal is always too fine, and hence makes heavy bread, except when
hot. Few use it without fermentation.
Unleavened bread may be made as above, of all the various kinds of
grain, finely ground; but it is apt to be heavy, whereas, when made
properly, of coarse meal, it is only firm, never heavy; that is, it
never has a lead-like appearance. They may make and use it who have iron
stomachs.
SECTION B.--_Bread of the second order._
This consists essentially of mixtures of the various coarse meals. True
it is, that made or mixed food is objectionable; but the union of one
farinaceous substance with another to form bread, can hardly be
considered a mixture. It is, essentially, the addition of farina to
farina, with some change in the proportion of the gluten and other
properties.
RECEIPT 1.--Wheat meal and Indian, in about the proportion of two parts
of wheat to one of Indian.
RECEIPT 2.--Wheat meal and oat meal, about equal parts.
RECEIPT 3.--Wheat meal and Indian, equal parts.
RECEIPT 4.--Wheat meal and rye meal; two parts, quarts, or pounds of the
former to one of the latter.
RECEIPT 5.--Rye and Indian, equal parts of each.
RECEIPT 6.--Rye, two thirds; Indian, one third.
RECEIPT 7.--Wheat meal and rice. Three quarts of wheat meal to one pint
of good clean rice, boiled till it is soft.
RECEIPT 8.--Three parts of wheat meal to one of Indian.
RECEIPT 9.--Four parts of wheat to one of Indian.
The proportion of the ingredients above may be varied to a great extent.
I have inserted some of the best. The following are _irregulars_, but
may as well be mentioned here as any where.
RECEIPT 10.--Two quarts of wheat meal to one pound of well boiled ripe
beans, made soft by pounding or otherwise.
RECEIPT 11.--Seven pounds of wheat meal and two and a half pounds of
good, mealy, and well boiled and pounded potatoes.
RECEIPT 12.--Equal parts of coarse meal from rye, barley, and buckwheat.
This is chiefly used in Westphalia.
RECEIPT 13.--Seven parts of wheat meal (as in Receipt 11), with two
pounds of split peas boiled to a soup, and used to wet the flour.
RECEIPT 14.--Wheat meal and apples, in the proportion of about three of
the former (some use two) to one of the latter. The apples must be first
pared and cored, and stewed or baked. See my "Young Housekeeper,"
seventh edition, page 396.
RECEIPT 15.--Wheat meal and boiled chestnuts; three quarts of the former
to one of the latter.
RECEIPT 16.--Wheat meal, four quarts, and one quart of well boiled and
pounded marrow squash.
RECEIPT 17.--Wheat, corn, or barley meal; three quarts to one quart of
powdered comfrey root. This is inserted from the testimony of Rev. E.
Rich, of Troy, N. H.
RECEIPT 18.--Wheat meal, three pounds, to one pound of pounded corn,
boiled and pounded green. This is the most doubtful form which has yet
been mentioned.
RECEIPT 19.--Receipt 7 describes rice bread. Bell, in his work on Diet
and Regimen, says the best and most economical rice bread is made thus:
Wheat meal, three pounds; rice, well boiled, one pound--wet with the
water in which the rice is boiled.
I wish to say here, once for all, that any kind of bread may be salted,
if you will _have_ salt, except the patented bread mentioned in the
beginning of the next section, which is salted in the process. Molasses
in small quantity may also be added, if preferred.