A FORTUNE MADE BY A VEGETARIAN.
PERHAPS one of the most remarkable cases of success in life is the
following, as described by Mr. Napier, of Merchiston, in a paper in
“Fraser’s Magazine.” He says:—
“After the reading of my paper on the vegetarian core for
intemperance, before the Bristol Meeting of the British Association
in 1875, I was addressed by an elderly gentleman and his wife, who
said my views were strictly in accordance with theirs. After some
conversation, we adjourned to his hotel, where he hospitably
entertained me, and gave me a narrative of his life, with permission
to publish it in the interest of the good cause, suppressing his name
and abode, as he said he was particularly shy and retired in his
habits, and had a great objection to see his name in print.
“He was born in the north of England in 1811; but although his hair
was grey, he otherwise appeared better preserved by fifteen years
than most persons of his age. His father was a minister of religion,
and he was the eldest of twelve children. He was of ancient and
distinguished lineage; but his father never having had more than £300
a-year, he was obliged to send his children out early into the world,
and so at fourteen he was put into a house of business in a great
northern town.
“For the first three years he had nothing but his board with one of
the senior clerks; but at the end of that time he got as much dry
bread and water for his lunch as he could take, and ten shilling a
a-week to board and lodge himself. He accidentally obtained some
works on vegetarianism, and was resolved to put in practice what he
had read, as otherwise he found he could not support and clothe
himself decently. I will give now his own words as nearly as I can
recollect.
“‘I was seventeen years of age then, five feet eight inches high, and
strongly built. I had but ten shillings a-week for everything. How
should I best lay it out? The senior clerk took me as a lodger at
eighteenpence a-week, for one good room. There was a bedstead in it,
but no bedding or other furniture. I was resolved to do what best I
could, and owe no man anything. Some canvas coverings, which my good
mother had put round my packages, served me to make a mattress when
filled with hay. For the first eight weeks I slept in my oldest
clothes on this mattress. My diet was ample and nourishing, but very
cheap. Threepence a-day was the cost. About one pound of beans,
which did not cost more than a penny, half a pound of bread daily,
and two halfpenny cabbages, and three pounds of potatoes in the week.
Two-pennyworth of seed oil, {76a} one pound of twopenny rice, and
about a farthing’s worth of tartar {76b} from the wine casks,
constituted my very nourishing diet.
“‘When my parents sent me a basket of fruit, I indulged in it freely;
but I did not care for it unless the carriage was paid, which was not
always the case. Thus 1_s._ 9_d._ for my food and 1_s._ 6_d._ for my
lodging, and 9½_d._ for my fuel and light, left me 5s. 11½_d._ for
other purposes. At the end of the eight weeks I have specified, I
was in possession of above £2. It took me nearly this sum to
purchase a straw paillasse, blankets, sheets, and pillows
second-hand. I persevered for another year on this diet, and found
myself in possession of about £12. As I had some respectable
acquaintance in the town, I resolved on spending this sum in
furniture, in order that I might have a decent room into which to ask
my visitors. Taking a lesson from the poet Goldsmith, I had ‘a bed
by night—a chest of drawers by day,’ so that my apartment,
alternately sitting-room and bedroom, was suitable for lady visitors.
I often invited the lady you see sitting opposite to you, to take tea
on Sunday with me and then go to church. She was my own age exactly,
and was the prey of a cruel stepmother; she was, in fact, a sort of
Cinderella in a large family. Her stepmother aimed at marrying her
to a widower of forty-five, with seven children; but this my young
girl of eighteen objected to. Her father at first sanctioned our
engagement; but when a suitor in a good position came forward for his
daughter, he forbade me the house, and made her walk daily with the
gentleman whom we nick-named ‘number forty-five.’ I resolved to
marry her as soon as I could furnish two more rooms and had laid in a
good stock of clothes.
“‘My young lady studied my vegetarian books, and determined not to
eat any meat at home. All the family laughed at her, but she was
sufficiently resolute to withstand ridicule.
“‘She told her father that, he having once sanctioned her engagement
to me, she must be bound to me, and could not accept anyone else.
Her father remonstrated with her, but it was of no use. At the end
of the two years, when I had just passed my twentieth birthday, I
called on her father and said, ‘I have now three rooms well
furnished, and am able to keep your daughter; I want you to fix a day
for my marrying her.’ He pressed my hand warmly, and said, ‘Well, I
will, and give you my blessing into the bargain.’ He was a
good-hearted man at bottom, but too much ruled by his wife. He gave
my wife a good large outfit and a purse of £10, and her stepmother
even gave her £2, and her brothers and sisters bought her a family
Bible, and one of them wrote in it, ‘At the end of ten days their
countenances did appear fairer and fatter of flesh than all the
children which did eat the portion of the king’s meat—Daniel i. 15.’
“The old gentleman laughed very much when he told me this, and said
that the vegetarianism of Daniel had been the text of many a sermon
which he had preached to his children, who, profiting by so good an
example, _were all vegetarians_.
“But to resume. ‘I found myself married and very happy, but with
10s. a-week only. We laid out our money as follows: We paid 3_s._
6_d._ for three rooms, 1_s._ for fuel and light, 3_s._ 6_d._ for
food, and had 2_s._ for other contingencies. Our food consisted
of—Bean stew three times a-week; potatoe pie twice a-week; puddings
without eggs twice a-week; carrots, turnips, or some green vegetable
daily. Our breakfast was porridge, either of corn or oatmeal. We
ate bread with it, thus insuring mastication, and rendering butter,
milk, tea, coffee, or cocoa unnecessary. We sometimes took tea in
the evening, but oftener cold water. We formed the acquaintance of a
fruit-merchant, who, though laughing at our vegetarianism, often sent
us baskets of fruit. I was married in December, and in the following
November my wife had a son. In a few days the wife of the head of
the firm paid us a visit, and the next day I was informed that my
salary was to be raised to 18_s._ a-week. I was before this in great
difficulty what to do, as I did not much like my wife being the sole
nurse of her child. Before this she had attended to all our wants.
I now took an Irish servant girl, who was willing to be a vegetarian
and receive 6_d._ a-week in wages for the first year.
“‘I was in possession, at the end of my second year of married life,
of £10 sterling. I will now tell you how I invested it. ‘Our firm’
was both speculative and manufacturing, and employed some 100
workmen, who purchased the tools they required at rather high prices
in the town. Ascertaining that the tools might be had cheaper at
Birmingham and Sheffield, I went myself and laid in a small stock,
which I sold within a week to the workmen at 18 per cent. profit, but
still full 10 per cent. under what they were in the habit of paying.
Being offered a month’s credit, I received a consignment of tools
from Birmingham and Sheffield. At the end of a year I found myself
in possession of £150, which I had made by the sale of these tools to
our own hands. My wife kept my books, and this little business
necessitated the hiring of another room. But in other respects this
great increase of income did not induce us to enlarge our expenses.
“‘A foreman lost his hand through an accident, and was incapacitated
for work; I made him my traveller, to call at other workshops and
sell tools to workmen.
“‘The firms at Birmingham and Sheffield had confidence in me. I
obtained credit more largely. I engaged a warehouse and a clerk. At
the end of my fourth year of marriage I was in possession of £1,500
by the sale of these tools. I now thought of a bold project, since I
was a capitalist. I went to the head of our firm, and I said, ‘My
wife is carrying on a business which seems likely to produce us
£1,500 a-year clear profit; I have no wish to leave your service, but
I shall certainly do so, unless my salary is raised to £250 a-year.’
This sum being agreed on, I was contented for the present.
“‘We now kept two servants, and lived in two floors over our
warehouse, and had two children.
“‘I had been married about six years, and had three children,’
continued the old vegetarian, ‘when my warehouse and all my furniture
were totally destroyed by fire; fortunately they were insured for
about £5,000. As this was another crisis in my career, I went to
‘the firm,’ and said, ‘I now know about as much of my business as I
can learn, and have a large connection. I am offered credit if I
will embark my capital—£8,000—to open a business in opposition to
yours. But I do not want to do this if you will only give me a
liberal salary. I want £450 a-year, and I will carry on my business
in tools in my leisure hours as before.’ My terms were accepted; I
was assigned a separate office, and five clerks were at my command.
Every letter to me was now addressed Esquire; formerly I was only
Mr., at least to the firm. I got my family arms engraved on a seal.
I began to dress better. I kept three maid-servants and a page, and
lived in a house out of the town—a road-side villa, with vegetable
garden—bringing my expenses within the £450 a-year; reserving the
profits of my business for the increase of my capital.
“‘The heads of the firm—two brothers—paid a visit to Ireland, and,
coming back, a terrific storm arose; they were washed off the deck of
the steamer and drowned, leaving in the firm only the junior, the son
of the elder brother, a young man of twenty years of age. As his
capacity was moderate, and his habits not very regular, the trustees
of the two deceased partners, of their own accord, proposed that I
should receive £750 per annum, take the entire charge of the
business, and stay an hour longer than hitherto. But after six
months, finding that I lost rather than gained by the arrangement, as
it encroached on the time I had hitherto devoted to my private
business, I plainly told the trustees that I must be taken into
partnership, or I would abandon the concern and establish a rival
business, which might very seriously damage theirs. They proposed
that I should be partner for life, with £1,500 a-year as a first
charge on the profits of the business, but should have no right to
leave any part of it to my family, but should have two-thirds of the
profits as surviving partner in case of the death of the present head
of the firm without children. A deed was executed to embrace these
provisions, and I bound myself not to enter into any other business
which would aim to rival that of the firm. On this I took a superior
house, kept a horse and open carriage, two gardeners, and otherwise
lived at the rate of about £1,200 a-year. My wife now retired
entirely from business, which she had seen after for about the half
of three days in the week.
“‘About four years after this, to my sorrow, but at the same time
pecuniary advantage, the young man, my senior partner, died, after a
few days’ illness, from pleurisy, brought on by bathing. His
constitution was mainly built up on beer, beef, and tobacco. I, a
vegetarian, was never ill after bathing. This young man was a martyr
to the abuse of stimulants, who his foolish doctor encouraged in
their use. I have made my will, and none of my children shall
inherit a penny if they are not at the time of my death vegetarians
and total abstainers.
“‘We had been so absorbed in business since we were married, that we
had not for ten years taken a sea-side holiday; so in the summer of
1846 we determined on a yacht voyage to last two months, from May 1st
till July 1st, round the coast of Ireland. We hired a yacht of
fourteen tons, four men, and a boy. My wife and three eldest
children and self went on board at Liverpool, and we had a most
enjoyable sail until we reached the north-west coast of Ireland. We
landed and explored many rocky bays, and I collected many beautiful
sea-birds’ eggs, and shot many of the more uncommon of the sea-fowl,
of which I have at present a trophy of stuffed birds, nine feet long,
in my hall.
“‘Wishing to see the wildest part of the Irish coast, we sailed for
the Arran Isles, and, landing there, spent some days in examining the
curious stones for which these islands are famous. Some fishermen
there spoke of an isolated rock in the sea, about a quarter of a mile
long, very high, with a cavern in it, as the haunt of myriads of
sea-fowl, some of species found nowhere else in the same abundance.
With one of these fishermen as our pilot we reached the spot. There
was a heavy swell round this island-rook, and we had great difficulty
in landing. We determined to anchor the yacht about half a mile off,
and proceed to the island in the boat with two of our men. Thinking
we might like to spend the day there, we took with us two bags of
rice, a basket of oranges, some loaves of bread, some peas and beans
for soup, and utensils and wood for cooking. In order to afford a
seat for the children, a tin chest from the cabin, full of a variety
of provisions, was put in the boat’s stern, and we embarked, my wife
expressing a regret that the provisions had not been emptied out lest
they should make the boat too heavy. With great difficulty we
managed to run the boat into a chasm about twenty feet wide and one
hundred feet long in the cliff, which was high and very precipitous.
This chasm formed a miniature harbour, where the boat could lie
without any danger of being swamped, in deep water close to the
cliff, against which it was moored to a projecting rock, as to an
artificial quay. It was a considerable scramble to get out of the
boat and up the cliff; we just managed it, and landing our
provisions, one of our men made a fire and acted as cook, while we
wandered over the island, and explored the cave. It was, in fact, a
sort of twin cavern, two branches having one entrance; that on the
right-hand side was about 150 feet deep, and was not tenanted, as it
had no exit; that on the left hand was a tunnel of even greater
length, and about forty feet high; it was the nesting-place of many
sea-birds; cormorants, puffins, guillemots, razorbills, several
species of seagulls, the arctic tern and gannet very abundant, and a
few pairs of the shearwater; of some sort we took a good many eggs.
We packed baskets with at least 100 dozen. I did not shoot, as I did
not like disturbing the birds, they were so tame, being but little
accustomed to the visits of man. There were some goats on the
island, which we conjectured had swum ashore from a shipwrecked
vessel.
“‘This plateau, which was the highest part of the island, was reached
by a path ascending about 200 feet. It was a beautiful emerald
meadow, bounded by almost precipitous cliffs, which my eldest boy and
I climbed up, but my wife declined the ascent. At about five we sat
down to our dinner of pea-soup, boiled cabbage, bread, haricot beans,
batter-pudding, and fruit.
“‘We were seated in the entrance of the cave, when suddenly a storm
sprang up. The wind was so violent, that though we sadly wished it,
we did not deem it prudent to get into our boat to rejoin the yacht.
One of the sailors went on a high part of the island to observe, and
soon informed us that the yacht had apparently dragged its anchor,
and was fast disappearing.
“‘We were all in a sad dilemma. Leaving my dinner unfinished, I,
with my eldest son, went up the cliff; the yacht was nowhere to be
seen, and the wind was so violent that we were hardly able to keep
our feet on the cliff. I came down, and said we should be obliged to
pass the night on the island. Accordingly, the sailors brought out
of the boat all we had left in it, including some shawls, a large fur
rug, and two sails and a quantity of tarpaulin, which we had intended
to sit on had the ground been damp. Lighting a small lamp, I made a
careful survey of the right-hand cavern; it was not straight, but
turned at a sharp angle; the floor was dry, as were also the walls.
I collected a heap of loose dry sand eight or ten feet long, by as
many feet wide, and in this I spread the tarpaulin, and over this
some shawls. As it got dark, myself, wife, and three children lay
down on this extemporised bed, covering ourselves with the large fur
rug. The wind made a great noise. The sailors lay down a short
distance from us, wrapped in the sails. The next morning, between
five and six, we were all up, and I made an inventory of our
provisions. We had about eight pounds of oatmeal, about the same
quantity of haricot beans, about fourteen pounds of lentils, about
twelve pounds of maize flour, three pounds of arrowroot, two pounds
of potatoes, a cabbage, four loaves of bread, and about a dozen
oranges. With economy, we had vegetarian provisions to last a
fortnight, if we could get fresh water—as yet we had found none. In
the cavern where the sea-birds were, there was a patch of green moss
on the wall, nearly obscuring a deep crack, extending for some yards
into the rock. On putting my ear to the crack I distinctly heard
water dropping. I tied a towel to a walking-stick and poked it into
the crack, and pulled out the towel dripping. By dint of probing the
rock, I increased the supply, and at last was enabled to get an oar
into the crack, which, being placed obliquely, acted as a lead to the
water, which now trickled down sufficiently fast to fill a tin can of
a gallon capacity in about a quarter of an hour. I considered this
providential. We were on this island ten days, and slept in the same
manner. During the day we kept a sail on an oar attached to the
boat’s mast, on the highest part of the island, as a signal of
distress. We saw several vessels, but they did not come near the
island. At last a smack lay to, and sent a boat to the island, and
in about an hour we were on board the smack. On the island we
adhered strictly to our vegetarian diet, substituting sea-fowls’ eggs
for hens’ eggs. {83}
“‘The sailors killed and roasted two kids.
“‘The smack put us on shore at Dingle Bay, and after a month’s travel
in Ireland we returned home, and heard that our sailors, taking
advantage of our absence, had drunk too much of the store of rum they
had provided at their own expense for the voyage, and that the
vessel, becoming unmanageable, had capsised, the two men and pilot
being drowned, the boy alone escaping, and, clinging to the keel of
the yacht, he was picked up a few hours after. The yacht was righted
by some fishermen, and eventually brought to the Isle of Man, where
she was claimed by her owners, who had to pay a salvage of £70. As
this incident had occurred during my hiring of her, I recouped them
of part, and received back my baggage, not so very much injured as I
expected. At the bottom of our box of provisions were some seeds
from our garden, which we were carrying to distribute amongst the
poor Irish at the places where we landed; so, thinking that some
future shipwrecked wanderers might be benefited thereby, I cleared a
patch of ground, and planted carrot, parsnip, and cabbage seed,
before I left the little island; hoping, but not expecting, the goats
would leave the tender vegetables unmolested.
“‘I had been married about sixteen years, when I resolved to print a
pamphlet on the subject of vegetarianism, giving my experiences and
those of my wife and family. I gave away 2,000 copies, and with some
result, for they were the means of adding over forty to the
vegetarian flock. In this pamphlet I propounded a scheme for the
renovation of my neighbourhood on vegetarian principles. At this
time I employed about eight servants, male and female, in the house
and garden. I gave the men 14_s._ a-week to find themselves, and
they were allowed a certain proportion of such common vegetables as
potatoes, carrots, turnips, and onions free. Being married men, they
had each a distinct cottage, large and comfortable, with an
ornamental flower-garden in front, and a fruit-garden at the back.
They were built in the Gothic style, after my own design. Each of
them kept bees and fowls for their own profit. Their style of living
was the envy of all their neighbours. I allow none of them to take
lodgers, and insisted on cleanliness; no rooms were papered, but all
were whitewashed annually. During the many years that have elapsed
since the first cottage was built, according to this plan, I have
added to them, until the number has reached fourteen. They are
mostly inhabited by Scotchmen. They are all temperance men,
anti-tobacco, and mostly vegetarians. I do not give a man a cottage
to himself until he is married to a clean, orderly, industrious
women. My labourers’ children turn out well.
“‘One cottage is inhabited by my second gardener and his wife,
without children. She teaches the boys and girls of the other
cottages, and has done so for twenty years. I pay her £30 a-year.
She was a trained schoolmistress before she was married. My head
gardener is a religious man, and holds divine service in one of my
barns, for about 100 persons connected with the estate. It is like a
mother’s meeting, children of all ages being present. I am not sorry
for this, for the parson of the neighbourhood is a great man for beef
and beer, and his influence I dread on my little Arcadia. My head
gardener now and then gives a lecture on vegetarianism in
school-rooms, and we two have drown up a table suggestive of
expenditure for rich and poor. Out of his wages he keeps his father
and mother and two maiden aunts, comfortably, at an expenditure of
about 7_s._ per week. He is an Aberdeenshire man, and about forty
years of age. I hope his eldest son will become an eminent man; and
I am paying for his education at one of the universities, on account
of his extraordinary ability and fine natural disposition, and also
on account of the respect which I feel for his father, who has helped
me to carry out my principles on my estate. This man’s parents and
aunts live in Aberdeenshire, and have never been on the parish. The
laird gives them three rooms over an outhouse at 6_d._ a-week. They
spent 2_s._ a-week on oatmeal, and 1_s._ a-week on milk. They grow
vegetables enough to make a stew for dinner; a shilling’s-worth of
flour gives them a meal of bread in the evening. They eat their
bread without butter, but with their vegetable soup, made either of
peas or beans; 3_d._ buys what condiments or groceries they require.
They are always clean and tidy, and gather what fuel they need from
the peat on the moor. The blind aunts are very strong, whereas the
father is very feeble. They work the garden and collect the wood, he
going with them to lead them on their way. My gardener has drawn up
a table how an adult man may supply himself with wholesome food,
lodging, and clothing at 7_s._ 6_d._ per week on vegetarian
principles. He can get a room unfurnished for 1_s._ a-week; he can
get attendance, to a certain extent, for 1_s._ a-week extra; his
broad bill need not be more than 1_s._ 6_d._ per week; 1_s._ 6_d._
for green vegetables, including potatoes; 6_d._ for butter or oil;
6_d._ for cocoa, and 6_d._ for groceries; 6_d._ for clothing 6_d._
for washing. So the money is spent.
“‘Some of my gardeners’ sons, trained on the estate, spend no more
when they go away from it. In one of them, named Dickenson, I have
always taken a great interest, as he was the first born on the
estate, and for a humble working man he has had a glorious career.
At sixteen I gave him 16s. a-week for attending to my stove plants.
At fourteen he had 10_s._ a-week. When he was eighteen a nobleman’s
steward saw him, and offered him 30_s._ a-week to superintended a
great stove-house. As I could not give such wages I let him go, but
with great reluctance. He wrote to his father that, although he got
30_s._ a-week and many perquisites, yet he limited his expenditure to
8_s._ a-week until they offered to feed him and house him, when he
cut down his expenditure to 3_s._ a-week. He could have had the best
of meat, but he still preferred the vegetarian diet, and he induced
two of the other servants, who were much troubled with indigestion,
to become vegetarians. This vegetarian movement in the servants’
hall attracted the notice of the nobleman, who was much pleased to
hear of it. By the greater use of vegetables than had been done
formerly, especially by the introduction of potato pie, haricot-bean
stew, and macaroni as every-day dishes in the servants’ hall, a
saving of £500 per annum was effected in the commissariat of the vast
establishment; therefore the nobleman was well satisfied, and
presented my young Dickenson with a gold watch and chain, value £36,
with an inscription, acknowledging his economy and fidelity.
Dickenson’s head was not turned by all this, although his wages were
soon after raised to £3 per week, and all food found. When the
nobleman died, his successor presented Dickenson with £250,
accompanied by a flattering letter, and retained him in his service
at a salary of £200 a-year, Dickenson still living as he did before.
After eighteen years’ service he was pensioned off with £100 per
annum, and now has a nursery of his own, and is reputed to be worth
between £7,000 and £8,000, although he is not more than forty years
of age. He has married lately a most frugal but accomplished
governess, who has saved £2,000. She was not a vegetarian when he
married her, but is so now. I am as proud of Dickenson as if he was
my own son. His sister is a most exemplary vegetarian governess; she
has induced no less than eight families, with whom she has lived, to
become vegetarians; and from her economy in her dress she has saved,
in the course of twenty years of governessing, £400. On her showing
me her bank-book I added £100 to it, and said if she saved £1,000
during my lifetime, I would add £500 to it. She is trying hard, and
her brother has given her £110 towards it.
“‘My eldest unmarried daughter keeps my domestic accounts most
beautifully, and audits those of any of the people I employ, with the
object of impressing on them the advantages of economy. I have
intimated to my children, that in proportion as they save they shall
inherit. This may be an excess of paternal government in the
estimation of many, but it has had a most beneficial effect. My
family are so methodical and self-denying that they are said to
realise some people’s idea of Quakers; but I have had little
intercourse with that sect. The success of my own offspring, and the
prosperity of my household and establishment, as you remarked to me,
seemed to be due to an exceptional combination of qualities and
circumstances—in my wife and myself in the first instance, and,
secondly, in those I employ, who are somewhat like myself. This is
true, I will admit; but it does not militate against the great
principle as laid down in the Bible, that ‘the hand of the diligent
maketh rich,’ that ‘industry has its sure reward,’ and that those who
honour their parents shall receive blessing. I have done more for my
parents than all my brothers and sisters united, and I have received
more blessing than all my brothers and sisters united. Pardon my
egotism.
“‘I will give you a few facts of vegetarians in our county. A squire
and magistrate, with £2,000 a-year, used to spend £1,500 as a
flesh-eater; he new spends £1,150, and is more comfortable, as a
vegetarian. A barrister, whose doctor assured him that he should
take three meals of meat and a bottle of wine daily for his health’s
sake, now finds that by a vegetarian and temperance diet his expenses
are reduced more than one-half, his health is better, and there is a
corresponding increase of vigour and power of sustaining labour, such
as he never before knew. A struggling clergyman, whom custom
induced, he called it ‘compelled,’ to take three meals of meat daily,
was under this system always in debt, and obliged to send the
churchwardens, round every Christmas to ask for means to pay his way:
now, on the vegetarian diet, he balances his income and expenditure,
and is able to carry forward a few pounds every quarter. I believe,
from more than forty years’ experience of the vegetarian diet, that
were it generally adopted, nine-tenths of the pauperism and crime
would disappear, that England would be able to supply herself with
all the home-grown corn she requires, and that the national debt, if
deemed desirable, could be paid off in thirty years.
“‘I corresponded regularly with my parents, and they, hearing I was
getting into comfortable circumstances, would frequently write me
complaints of poverty. To these I responded by remittances of money,
and at this time wrote to my father, saying I would allow him £25
a-year, and my mother a similar amount. I visited my father about
once in two years, but always took a lodging, and took my meals apart
from him, for he was an inveterate smoker and a great beer-drinker,
and filled his snuff-box three times weekly. I once made a random
calculation that he had wasted £1,500 on stimulants in his life.
These reflections prevented me from being more liberal to him. If I
had given him £100 a-year, I only know he would have spent more on
cigars. He would have bought wine at 6_s._ a bottle, and, perhaps,
have increased his consumption of snuff. On getting a legacy of £75
once, £40 went to pay his publican’s bill. One day my father wrote
asking me to accommodate my youngest brother and two sisters a few
weeks, that they might see the sights of the town and get change of
air. I wrote to my father that my wife and I would be very glad to
see them, but they must not expect us to make any change in our
vegetarian and temperance diet, but at the same time intimating that
our style of living was very comfortable. There was an amount of
formality between me and my father; he would sometimes call me, in
derision, the Joseph of the family, because I went away from the rest
and got rich, and I held his ill-success in life to be owing to his
improvidence and self-indulgence, and feared he might want me to keep
the whole family in idleness; accordingly I was not very much pleased
at his proposal to send my sisters and younger brother to me.
However, I assented, and they came. My elder sister, Mary Ann, was
one of those sulky, vain, indolent natures which neither my wife nor
I can sympathise with at all. Public opinion was her god, and Mrs.
Grundy her godmother. One day she said to my wife, ‘I wonder you can
endure to live as you do with your means; it strikes me as being very
poor and miserable. Most people of your means have three meals of
meat a-day. Do you never feel tired of the vegetables?’ My wife
said no, and that she did not think she could preserve the same
health and strength on a meat diet. My wife rose at six, and went to
bed at half-past ten, whereas Mary Ann and her sister could not get
down to breakfast till ten at home; but when they were with us we
took care to have the breakfast cleared away at eight, so that if
they came down at ten they had to wait till lunch before they got
anything to eat. This strict commissariat roused Mary Ann two hours
sooner than usual.
“‘Mary Ann was fantastic in her dress, and talked a great deal of
nonsense to the servants, endeavouring to make them discontented with
the vegetarian diet, and one of them gave notice to leave in
consequence; so I thought it was time to settle with my sisters, and
I placed them in a lodging and gave them £2 a-week to feed themselves
as they chose, but they were welcome to come to our meals when they
liked. To my surprise, although professing abhorrence of a
vegetarian diet, they all came to take dinner and tea with us. My
sisters were without watches or jewellery of any kind, and begged me
to supply them. This I did, at a cost of about £40. My other
sisters living at home, as well as those married and away, hearing of
these gifts, wrote to me and demanded similar presents almost as a
matter of right. I complied, although it cost me £120 more. I began
to be weary of my family connections; they were no comfort to me, and
my elder daughters began to be impertinent in consequence of the
example of their aunts. My wife and I, when they left, resolved to
drop all intercourse with them, lest the evil association might
impair the discipline of our house.
“‘After staying six months, instead of a few weeks, my sisters and
little brother left, saying they would probably come again about the
same time next year. True to their promise they appeared the next
year, and asked me to take a lodging for them as before. As they had
come without any invitation, I thought that I would now for the first
time read them a moral lecture, which, for the sake of the other
members of the family, I put in the form of a letter, which was a
good deal to the following effect. I have a copy of it in my
letter-book at home. It began:—
“‘Dear Mary Ann, and my Sisters and Brothers,—After some prayer, I
consider it my solemn duty to write to you, and warn you of your
dangerous position. There is not one of you that fears God: you all
are steeped in self-indulgence of one kind or another. I won’t
mention names, but I put it to your consciences whether any of you
have ever denied yourselves to do any good action; whether or not you
have not lived lives purely selfish. You wrangled and quarrelled
like vultures at your meals, each demanding the largest share. You
girls esteemed it degrading to make your own clothes when your
milliner’s rags were worn out, and adopted a style of dress which to
my mind seemed a burlesque. You were at good schools, but you were
too indolent to make good use of them; and your brothers have spent a
small fortune on stimulants. Your marriages have all been
contemptible. Finally, let me say I have no respect for any of you;
but, as I fear God, I will not see you want. Those of you, married
and single, who will become vegetarians and renounce stimulants, I
will endeavour to assist in life, provided you bring up your children
as vegetarians. But I shall renounce all connection with those
relatives who do not in six months become vegetarians. I feel
impelled to do so by a sense of duty.’
“‘I had this letter printed, and sent a copy to all my brothers and
sisters; most of them replied, and said they would consider the
proposal. Of my numerous brothers and sisters, none were at this
time in prosperous circumstances, and yet they had all had a much
better chance than I; more money had been spent on their education,
and all of them had some legacies left them by an uncle, who left me
nothing, as I was supposed to be separated from the rest.
“‘After spending about £15,000 in endeavouring to benefit my brothers
and sisters and their children, I have determined to spend no more
money on them, as they are incorrigibly self-indulgent, reckless, and
vain-glorious, but keep all my money for my own offspring and those
whom I can morally respect. Do you not think I am right, Mr. Napier?
“‘I will now tell you the state of my family. They are all healthy
and well formed, luxuriant in hair, sound in teeth, and much better
proportioned in feature and figure than usual. I confess, sir, that
I take no small pleasure in my family. Even my married children do
nothing of importance without consulting me. I share my income
liberally with them; but they, with commendable prudence, live
plainly and economically, and save much; some are better at it than
others, but I cannot complain of any of them; they are liberal too.
My grown-up sons spend a tenth of their incomes on moral and
religious purposes. I do not devote much time to business now—not
more than three hours daily; literary, scientific, and other
intellectual pursuits fill up the rest of my time.’
“The vegetarian’s wife described their mansion in the country as
containing thirty rooms, among which is a fine picture-gallery, 90
feet long; about twenty conservatories and thirty gardeners are
attached to the house. By the sale of early fruits and vegetables,
and the rearing of certain orchids, the great expense of this
wholesale gardening is reduced to about £1,000 a-year, which her
husband does not wish this hobby to exceed. He grows grapes
throughout the greater part of the year, and pine-apples also, so
that the dessert-fruit on his table is scarcely to be surpassed. His
entire living-expenses do not exceed £3,000 a-year, although his
income is something like six times that amount. Sometimes he will
spend £3,000 a-year in relieving distress, as he did at the time of
the cotton famine. His wife said he is so shy and reserved with
people in general that he avoids society; but rich people are sought
after, and he sometimes receives a thousand begging-letters in the
year. He thought his life ought to be written, and added as an
appendix to Mr. Smiles’s ‘Self-Help;’ and so I have sent this sketch
of it for publication.”
Vegetarianism has been a stepping-stone to wealth in more than one
instance. Undoubtedly Franklin’s vegetarianism was useful to him in a
pecuniary as well as in a moral point of view. He writes:—“When about
sixteen years of age, I happened to meet with a book written by one
Tryson, recommending a vegetable diet. I determined to go into it. My
brother, being unmarried, did not keep home, but boarded himself and his
apprentices in another family. My refusing to eat flesh occasioned an
inconvenience, and I was frequently chid for my singularity. I made
myself acquainted with Tryson’s manner of preparing some of his
dishes—such as boiling potatoes or rice, making pastry, puddings, and a
few others; and then proposed to my brother, that if he would give me,
weekly, half the money he paid for my board, I would board myself. He
instantly agreed to it, and I presently found that I could save half what
he paid me. This was an additional fund for the buying of books; but I
had another advantage in it. My brother and the rest going from the
printing-house to their meals, I remained there alone, and, despatching
presently my light repast (which was often no more than a biscuit or a
slice of bread, a handful of raisins, or a tart from the pastrycook’s,
and a glass of water), had the rest of the time till their return for
study, in which I made the greater progress from that greater clearness
of head and quicker apprehension which generally attend temperance in
eating and drinking. Now it was that, being on some occasion made
ashamed of my ignorance in figures, which I had twice failed learning
when at school, I took Cocker’s book on ‘Arithmetic,’ and went through
the whole by myself with the greatest ease. I also read Seller’s and
Thorny’s book on ‘Navigation,’ which made me acquainted with the little
geometry it contains; but I never proceeded far in that science. I also
read, about this time, Locke on the ‘Human Understanding;’ and the ‘Art
of Thinking,’ by one of the writers of Port Royal.”
The vegetarians would do better did they exercise more of the grace of
charity. In one of the numbers of _Social Notes_, Mr. Nunn, who is
secretary of the “Food Reform Society,” is indignant at the bill of fare
in the coffee public-houses. The food is “too stimulating, and not at
all in accordance with dietetic principles.” They sell “the
highly-seasoned, and drunkard’s thirst-creating, and expensive corned
beef,” and “innutritious and indigestible ham and bacon.” Worse than
all, the unhappy directors “must needs, of all miserable and doubtful
food, sell—pork sausages;” and not only pork sausages, but wheaten bread;
and not only wheaten bread—tell it not in Seven Dials!—but absolutely
“pander to the wretched drunkard’s appetite for stimulating,
innutritious, unhealthy, and expensive food,” by letting their customers
have beef-steaks! “Now,” says the _Echo_, “allowing all of Mr. Nunn’s
premises—and we gladly allow many of them—we think he is going a little
too far, and certainly a good deal too fast. To attempt to entirely
alter the food proclivities of the British workman while the experiment
of the coffee public-house is yet unsolved, would, we humbly think, be
decidedly of that character. It might be perfectly true that pork
sausages and wheaten bread are not the most theoretically nutritious of
food, and that they provoke thirst. Yet we fancy if the journeyman
bricklayer could not get them in the coffee-house, he would seek them in
the public-house, which it is the object of the directors of the former
to win him away from. When one has to choose between gin and beef we
fancy even Mr. Nunn would agree that the latter is of two evils the
least. Accordingly we think that to a more convenient season it would be
well to relegate the reformation of the coffee public-houses bill of
fare.”