“It is said that at Rome, when a mortal is about to be raised to the dignity of sainthood, the precaution is taken of providing a ‘devil’s advocate,’ who, by pointing out as strongly as he can all the faults of the candidate, secures the fair discussion of both sides of the question, and is a guarantee, moreover, that no unworthy aspirant to such exalted honours should be rashly admitted to them.
“On the present occasion I make bold to present myself in this unamiable capacity. No member, indeed, of this respected Club is seeking canonization, yet, a step not less important is contemplated in the enrolment of a hitherto despised and even abhorred member of the vegetable kingdom among the list of its edible products; indeed, some may consider such a step as of more importance to our race than the apotheosis of a peccant mortal; and therefore it would appear that, if in the one instance it is desirable that all the peccadilloes of the candidate should be exposed, a fortiori, it must be so in the other.
“Let me, then, first observe that these gentlemen at the bar have actually a very bad character, and that it is not likely that this would be the case unless they were really great sinners.
“Here, some will exclaim, no doubt, ‘Prejudice, my dear sir! vulgar prejudice is capable of the grossest injustice—ignorant prejudice has driven from our tables a delicious article of food, and deprived the poor of a wholesome diet.’ It is often said that he was a brave man who first ate an oyster, and truly a more uninviting mouthful than it was could scarcely be imagined; and yet the fact that it is good and wholesome soon disposed of any prejudice against it. And is it not likely that such would be the case, were the fungus tribe fit for human food? Can we suppose any prejudice arising from their leathery looks would not evaporate like mists before the morning sun, were they really the nutritious and delicious dainties they are described to be by their enthusiastic advocates?
“I think it may be observed that the general character which a man bears is, on the whole, a true one. That big school, the world in which we live, contrives, in some way or other, to hit off pretty accurately our average merit and take our measure, and though it may make a mistake now and then in some particular instance, its general estimate is a fair one; and so with funguses. There may be a too-sweeping condemnation of all kinds of them: nay, it may be even probable that Agaricus campestris is not the best that grows, and yet, after all, the prevalent distrust of the tribe is well founded.
“When, e.g., some family in a parish is known to have been poisoned by eating a wrong sort, it is not surprising, nor can it be called stupid prejudice, if their neighbours are ever after rather shy of the article of food which produced that result. But it will be said that the mischief arose from ignorance—had that family known the marks that distinguish between the wholesome and the poisonous kinds this would never have taken place. If ever there was a case in which ignorance was bliss, surely this is it. A short time ago, I accompanied a scientific friend in a foray among the funguses, which we made with a special view to the improvement of our intended repast, and was on that occasion struck with the elaborate precautions which seemed to be necessary to observe in discriminating the good from the bad. It would almost seem that Nature had purposely contrived a labyrinth of ingenious stumbling-blocks to guard this mysterious product from the insatiable appetites of mankind; and so it came to pass after all, my good friend—who really seemed well up in the subject, and who found at every turn some well-known test of wholesomeness or otherwise to guide him in the specimens we collected—wound up the day by nearly poisoning a member of my family: for he had, it appears, mistaken Boletus flavus, a violent poison, for the very similar but wholesome and excellent Boletus luteus—the only difference being that the pores of the one are somewhat smaller and less angular than those of the other. Surely, in this instance, knowledge (and it was not in his case a little knowledge either) was a dangerous thing.
“But still it may be said that there are species the characters of which are sufficiently well-defined, and that from these, at least, the stigma ought to be removed. But even so, I would submit one or two questions to those who may be inclined to admit this. 1st. Is it so clear that a fungus which agrees with one person may not be very injurious to another? One man has, to use a vulgar expression, the stomach of a horse. Can I, an average mortal, calculate on possessing such a treasure? I saw with my own eyes my scientific friend eat and swallow an entire Boletus flavus, raw, without any apparent bad effects either that evening or the following day, whereas a small portion of the same kind, cooked too (I cannot, however, say secundum artem), produced violent sickness on another individual, who, moreover, had never before experienced sickness; indeed, this fact would seem to suggest that the stomach may be ‘educated’ by long habit to bear this noxious food, and, therefore, that its evil effects (harmless upon organs well trained) happen when the experimentum in corpore vili is tried. My friend assures me that he has eaten the highly poisonous Boletus satanas with no worse effect than a little indigestion the next morning. Can, I would ask, the experience of such a seasoned digestive apparatus as his be any guide to those who have not gone through the course of training which he has?
“Again, may it not be possible that the same kind of fungus which in some instances is wholesome, may, if grown under different circumstances, and supplied with different nutriment, assume very different properties? And again, are we competent to judge of the wholesomeness of a particular article of food unless it is tried by a very large number of persons—unless it be ‘exhibited,’ to use a medical term, on a great variety of constitutions? Indeed, is there not some ground for thinking that such an exhibition would be in many instances far from satisfactory?
“On the whole, it would appear that the advice of an eminent physician, an ardent admirer of the fungus, was good and sound. When he heard of the escape my family had on this occasion, he said that this article of diet should be partaken of with ‘great caution.’ And by the way, is not this itself a very suspicious expression? ‘Great caution!’ If I am introduced to a gentleman, and told at the same time that I must conduct myself towards him with ‘great caution’ or he will probably do me some deadly mischief, it would hardly be thought a very hearty and promising introduction; yet here we are told that this excellent family to which we are so warmly introduced has some members belonging to it so villanously disposed, that possibly we may pay for our acquaintance with our lives. This is not very encouraging, and so the course adopted by a young lady who indulges in these experiments, to whom I was speaking the other day, would seem to be a very prudent one. She says she never partakes of these dainties till she has seen the effect they have had upon somebody else! But even so, only picture the ghastly scene which a banquet of this kind would present; each guest looking anxiously into his neighbour’s face, awaiting in terror the contortions which are to show that he has partaken of the fatal dish.”
While Mr. La Touche’s paper should not deter us from using and showing others the value of the quantities of edible fungi now generally allowed to rot in our fields and woods, and nowhere perhaps so abundant as in the pleasure grounds and woods round country seats, yet, as impressing the necessity of using due discrimination in gathering, it may be read with advantage by all.