XVII. EXPERIMENTS IN
DIETETICS
As I searched myself deeper, the necessity for changes
both internal and external began to grow on me. As soon
as, or even before, I made alterations in my expenses and
my way of living, I began to make changes in my diet. I
saw that the writers on vegetarianism had examined the
question very minutely, attacking it in its religious,
scientific, practical and medical aspects. Ethically they
had arrived at the conclusion that man's supremacy over
the lower animals meant not that the former should prey
upon the latter, but that the higher should protect the
lower, and that there should be mutual aid between the
two as between man and man. They had also brought out the
truth that man eats not for enjoyment but to live. And
some of them accordingly suggested and effected in their
lives abstention not only from flesh-meat but from eggs
and milk. Scientifically some had concluded that man's
physical structure showed that he was not meant to be a
cooking but a frugivorous animal, that he could take only
his mother's milk and, as soon as he teeth, should begin
to take solid foods. Medically they had suggested the
rejection of all spices and condiments. According to the
practical and economic argument they had demonstrated
that a vegetarian diet was the least expensive. All these
considerations had their effect on me, and I came across
vegetarians of all these types in vegetarian restaurants.
There was a vegetarian Society in England with a weekly
journal of its own. I subscribed to the weekly, joined
the society and very shortly found myself on the
Executive Committee. Here I came in contact with those
who were regarded as pillars of vegetarianism, and began
my own experiments in dietetics.
I stopped taking the sweets and condiments I had got
from home. The mind having taken a different turn, the
fondness for condiments wore away, and I now relished the
boiled spinach which in Richmond tasted insipid, cooked
without condiments. Many such experiments taught me that
the real seat of taste was not the tongue but the mind.
The economic consideration was of course constantly
before me. There was in those days a body of opinion
which regarded tea and coffee as harmful and favoured
cocoa. And as I was convinced that one should eat only
articles that sustained the body, I gave up tea and
coffee as a rule, and substituted cocoa.
There were two divisions in the restaurants I used to
visit. One division, which was patronized by fairly
well-to-do people, provided any number of courses from
which one chose and paid for a la carte, each
dinner thus costing from one to two shillings. The other
division provided six-penny dinners of three courses with
a slice of bread. In my days of strict frugality I
usually dined in the second division.
There were many minor experiments going on along with
the main one; as for example, giving up starchy foods at
one time, living on bread and fruit alone at another, and
once living on cheese, milk and eggs. This last
experiments is worth noting. It lasted not even a
fortnight. The reformer who advocated starchless food had
spoken highly of eggs and held that eggs were not meat.
It was apparent that there was no injury done to living
creatures in taking eggs. I was taken in by this plea and
took eggs in spite of my vow. But the lapse was
momentary. I had no business to put a new interpretation
on the vow. The interpretation of my mother who
administered the vow was there for me. I knew that her
definition of meat included eggs. And as soon as I saw
the true import of the vow I gave up eggs and the
experiment alike.
There is a nice point underlying the argument, and
worth noting. I came across three definitions of meat in
England. According to the first, meat denoted only the
flesh of birds and beasts. Vegetarians who accepted that
definition abjured the flesh of birds and beasts, but ate
fish, not to mention eggs. According to the second
definition, meat meant flesh of all living creatures. So
fish was here out of the question, but eggs were allowed.
The third definition as all their products, thus covering
eggs and milk alike. If I accepted the first definition,
I could take not only eggs, but fish also. But I was
convinced that my mother's definition was the definition
binding on me. If, therefore, I would observe the vow I
had taken, I must abjure eggs. I therefore did so. This
was a hardship inasmuch as inquiry showed that even in
vegetarian restaurants many courses used to contain eggs.
This meant that unless I knew what was what, I had to go
through the awkward process of ascertaining whether a
particular course contained eggs or no, for many puddings
and cakes were not free from them. But though the
revelation of my duty caused this difficulty, it
simplified my food. The simplification in its turn
brought me annoyance in that I had to give up several
dishes I had come to relish. These difficulties were only
passing, for the strict observance of the vow produced an
inward relish distinctly more healthy, delicate and
permanent.
The real ordeal, however, was still to come, and that
was in respect of the other vow. But who dare harm whom
God protects?
A few observations about the interpretation of vows or
pledges may not be out of place here. Interpretation of
pledges has been a fruitful source of strife all the
world over. No matter how explicit the pledge, people
will turn and twist the text to suit their own purposes.
They are to be met with among all classes of society,
from the rich down to the poor, from the prince down to
the peasant. Selfishness turns them blind, and by a use
of the ambiguous middle they deceive themselves and seek
to deceive the world and God. One golden rule is to
accept the interpretation honestly put on the pledge by
the party administering it. Another is to accept the
interpretation of the weaker party, where there are two
interpretations possible. Rejection of these two rules
gives rise to strife and iniquity, which are rooted in
untruthfulness. He who seeks truth alone easily follows
the golden rule. He need not seek learned advice for
interpretation. My mother's interpretation of meat was,
according to the golden rule, the only true one for me,
and not the one my wider experience or my pride of better
knowledge might have taught me.
My experiments in England were conducted from the
point of view of economy and hygiene. The religious
aspect of the question was not considered until I went to
South Africa where I undertook strenuous experiments
which will be narrated later. The seed, however, for all
of them was sown in England.
A convert's enthusiasm for his new religion is greater
than that of a person who is born in it. Vegetarianism
was then a new cult in England, and likewise for me,
because, as we have seen, I had gone there a convinced
meat-eater, and was intellectually converted to
vegetarianism later. Full of the neophyte's zeal for
vegetarianism, I decided to start a vegetarian club in my
locality, Bayswater. I invited Sir Edwin Arnold, who
lived there , to be Vice-President. Dr. Oldfield who was
Editor of the The Vegetarian became President. I
myself became the Secretary. The club went well for a
while, but came to an end in the course of a few months.
For I left the locality, according to my custom of moving
from place to place periodically. But this brief and
modest experience gave me some little training in
organizing and conducting institutions.
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