Social intercourse, in a special manner, would be affected by the change. People “can’t have company, ’tis such hard work!” And no wonder! A young woman of this village set before her company, the other afternoon, three kinds of cake, two of pie, three of preserves, besides Washington-pie, cookies, and hot and cold bread. Every woman who sat at that tea-table, when her turn of inviting the company comes round, will feel obliged to make a similar display. When this barbarous practice of stuffing one’s guests shall have been abolished, a social gathering will not necessarily imply hard labor and dyspepsia. Perhaps, when that time arrives, we shall be sufficiently civilized to demand pleasures of a higher sort. True, the entertainments will then, in one sense, be more costly, as culture is harder to come by than cake. The profusion of viands now heaped upon the table betrays poverty of the worst sort. Having nothing better to offer, we offer victuals; and this we do with something of that complacent, satisfied air with which some more northern tribes present their tidbits of whale and walrus.

When we have changed all this, it will then be given us to know the real pleasure of eating. At present our appetites are so vitiated by over-eating, that the keen edge of this pleasure is dulled. Whoever would enjoy it, sharpened at both edges, let him labor hard enough to feel actual hunger, and then take—why, take any simple thing, a baked potato, a slice of meat, a piece of bread. The dishes that make the work, and cost the money, are usually eaten after hunger is satisfied, and do harm, rather than good.

We often hear people remark, “Oh! we don’t want to be thinking of what does harm, and what does good. The best way is to eat what’s on the table.” I know a mother who gives her only child, a little girl three years old, hot biscuits, mince-pie, rich cake, and the like, believing, she says, that “a child’s stomach should get used to every thing.” For her part, she believes in living the natural way, not in picking and choosing. Why not, on the same principle, let the child get used to all kinds of reading, and all kinds of companions?

It is curious, the way people assume, that, because the present system of cooking and serving meals is customary, it is, therefore, natural; as if the courses of a dinner, each with its central dish, and that with its revolving lesser dishes, were, equally with the solar system, an established order of nature. Meal-providers have sought out many inventions, and call these the “natural way.” They give us, at one sitting, fish, pork, flour, butter, salt, milk, eggs, raisins, spices, corn, potatoes, squash, coffee, sugar, saleratus, pickles, onions, lard, pepper, cooked fruits, tomatoes, essences, all variously combined, and say, “Here, eat, eat in the natural way.” Why natural? The men and women it helps to produce are, to some extent, its natural consequences; but are they natural men and women? Hear them. “Oh, my head!” “Oh, my back!” “Oh, my side!” “Oh, my liver!” “Oh, my stomach!” “Oh, my nerves!” On every side resounds the mournful chorus. Seldom do we hear break in even one jubilant voice, chanting in response, “I am in perfect health. I feel no ache, no pain.” Is this, then, the natural way? But the system speaks for itself, or, rather, the innumerable host of invalids speak for it. So does the grand army of doctors. So do proprietors of patent medicines, rolling in wealth. Why, people take ill health for granted. “No use telling your aches: everybody has ’em,” is a remark often heard.

Occasionally an individual rebels, and insists on eating really simple and natural food. Such individual is straightway called odd. He is jeered at, ridiculed, accused of thinking about his stomach, and about what merely goes to sustain the body, as if such thinking were not worth while.

Now, these bodies are nearer and dearer to us than any other earthly possession. And, what is more, they will cling to us. We are joined to them for better or worse; and from this union there is no divorce, till death do us part. Why, then, scoff at them? Why not, on the contrary, seriously consider how we may build them up as pure, as strong, and as perfect as may be? Not worth while to think about one’s stomach? Why? The stomach is not an obscure party, doing business in a small way, and on its own account. It is leading partner in an important and influential firm,—“Stomach, Brains, & Co.” There is nothing vulgar about brains; oh, no! They have always been respectable. Well, in this great firm, each member is liable for all, and all for each. If one runs in debt, the others have to pay. It is well known that the condition of the brain and other organs is affected by the quality of the blood, and the quality of the blood, by the quality of the food. The change of food into blood is a chemical process; and why is not human chemistry as well worth studying as any other kind? for instance, that by which the manufacturer selects the best chemicals for his various dyestuffs, and the gardener those best adapted to his various soils. The time may come when this chemistry of eating shall rank with other scientific studies. People shall then be allowed to “pick and choose” the diet best calculated to make healthy nerves, blood, bones, &c.; and they shall not suffer ridicule for so doing.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Clothes-horse, a local term for clothes-frame.

[B] Recent legislative proceedings show that some law-makers are of the same opinion.

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