Vegetable Diet: As Sanctioned by Medical Men, and by Experience in All Ages
TekstSuch an account hardly needs comment; and I leave it to make its own impression on the candid and unbiassed mind and heart of the reader.
THE MEXICAN INDIANS
The Indian tribes of Mexico, according to the traveler Humboldt, live on vegetable food. A spot of ground, which, if cultivated with wheat, as in Europe, would sustain only ten persons, and which by its produce, if converted into pork or beef, would little more than support one, will in Mexico, when used for banana, sustain equally well two hundred and fifty.
The reader will do well to take the above fact, and the estimates appended to it, along with him when he comes to examine what I have called the economical argument of the great diet question, in our last chapter, under the head, "The Moral Argument." We shall do well to remember another suggestion of Humboldt, that the habit of eating animals diminishes our natural horror of cannibalism.
SCHOOL IN GERMANY
There is, in the Annals of Education for August, 1836, an account of a school in which the same simple system which was pursued in the Orphan Asylum at Albany was adopted, and with the same happy results. I say the same system; I believe plain meat was allowed occasionally, but it was seldom. Their food was exceedingly simple, consisting chiefly of bread and other vegetables, fruits and milk. Great attention was also paid to daily cold bathing. The following is the teacher's statement in regard to the results:
"I am at present the foster father of nearly seventy young people, who were born in all the varieties of climate from Lisbon to Moscow, and whose early education was necessarily very different. These young men are all healthy; not a single eruption is visible on their faces; and three years often pass, during which not a single one of them is confined to his bed; and in the twenty-one years that I have been engaged in this institution, not one pupil has died. Yet, I am no physician. During the first ten years of my residence here, no physician entered my house; and, not till the number of my pupils was very much increased, and I grew anxious not to overlook any thing in regard to them, did I begin to seek at all for medical advice.
"It is the mode of treating the young men here, which is the cause of their superior health; and this is the reason why death has not yet entered our doors. Should we ever deviate from our present principles – should we approach nearer the mode of living common in wealthy families – we should soon be obliged to establish, in our institution, as it is in others, medicine closets and nurseries. Instead of the freshness which now adorns the cheeks of our youth, paleness would appear, and our church-yards would contain the tombs of promising young men, who, in the bloom of their years, had fallen victims to disease."
THE AMERICAN PHYSIOLOGICAL SOCIETY
This association was formed in 1837. When first formed, it consisted of one hundred and twenty-four males, and forty-one females; in all, one hundred and sixty-five. Their number soon increased to more than two hundred.
Most of these individuals were more or less feeble, and a very large proportion of them were actually suffering from chronic disease when they became members of the society. Not a few joined it, indeed, as a last resort, after having tried every thing else, as drowning men are said to catch at straws.
Nearly if not quite all the members of this society, as well as most of their families, abstained for a time from animal food. Some of them even adopted the vegetable system a year or so earlier. And there were a few who adopted it much sooner – one or two of them eight years earlier.
Of the individuals belonging to the Physiological Society or to their families, and adhering to the same principles, two adults only died, and one child, during the first two years. I will not be quite positive, but there were four in all, two adults, and two children; but this was the extent of mortality among them for about fifteen months.
The whole number of those who belonged to the society, with those members of their families who adhered to their principles (estimating families, as is usually done, at five members to each), is believed to have been from three hundred and twenty to three hundred and fifty. The average mortality for the same number of healthy persons, during the same period, in Boston and the adjacent places, was about six or seven; though in some places it was much greater. In a single parish in Roxbury – and without any remarkable sickness – the mortality, for the same number of persons, was equal to ten or twelve.
Now, we must not forget, what I have already stated, that this society of vegetable-eaters – the two hundred adults, I mean – were generally invalids, and some of them given over by physicians. Instead, therefore, of only half the usual proportion of deaths among them, we might naturally enough have expected twice or three times the usual number. And this expectation would have appeared still better founded when it was considered that many made the change in their habits, and especially in their diet, very suddenly.
But the whole story is not yet told. Not only was the number of deaths very small, as above stated, but there were a great number of remarkable recoveries. Some, who had very obstinate complaints, appeared, for a time, to be entirely well. Others were getting well as fast as could be expected. Some, who were broken down and prematurely old, seemed to renew their youth. Many became free from colds and eruptive complaints, to which they were formerly subject. And those who had acute diseases, of whom, however, the number was very small, did not suffer so much as is usually the case with flesh-eaters in circumstances otherwise apparently similar.
But a reverse at length came. They were led into their abstemious course by mere impulse in very many cases, and though a library was formed and meetings held, nobody, hardly, would read, and the meetings grew thin. They had no Joe Smith or Gen. Taylor to lead them – and mankind without leaders and without deep-toned principle, soon grow tired of war. Few will fight in such circumstances.
CHAPTER VIII.
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."