Vegetable Diet: As Sanctioned by Medical Men, and by Experience in All Ages / Including a System of Vegetable Cookery

by William A. Alcott

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.