NO ANIMAL FOOD: CHAPTER IV
THE AESTHETIC POINT OF VIEW
St. Paul tells us to think on whatsoever
things are pure and lovely (Phil. iv., 8). The
implication is that we should love and worship beauty.
We should seek to surround ourselves by beautiful objects
and avoid that which is degrading and ugly.
Let us make some comparisons.
Look at a collection of luscious fruits filling the
air with perfume, and pleasing the eye with a harmony
of colour, and then look at the gruesome array of
skinned carcasses displayed in a butcher’s shop;
which is the more beautiful? Look at the work
of the husbandman, tilling the soil, pruning the trees,
gathering in the rich harvest of golden fruit, and
then look at the work of the cowboy, branding, castrating,
terrifying, butchering helpless animals; which is
the more beautiful? Surely no one would say a
corpse was a beautiful object. Picture it (after
the axe has battered the skull, or the knife has found
the heart, and the victim has at last ceased its dying
groans and struggles), with its ghastly staring eyes,
its blood-stained head or throat where the sharp steel
pierced into the quivering flesh; picture it when
the body is opened emitting a sickening odour and
the reeking entrails fall in a heap on the gore-splashed
floor; picture this sight and ask whether it is not
the epitome of ugliness, and in direct opposition
to the most elementary sense of beauty.
Moreover, what effect has the work
of a slayer of animals upon his personal character
and refinement? Can anyone imagine a sensitive-minded,
finely-wrought aesthetic nature doing anything
else than revolt against the cold-blooded murdering
of terrorised animals? It is significant that
in some of the States of America butchers are not
allowed to sit on a jury during a murder trial.
Physiognomically the slaughterman carries his trade-mark
legibly enough. The butcher does not usually
exhibit those facial traits which distinguish a person
who is naturally sympathetic and of an aesthetic temperament;
on the contrary, the butcher’s face and manner
generally bear evidence of a life spent amid scenes
of gory horror and violence; of a task which involves
torture and death.
A plate of cereal served with fruit-juice
pleases the eye and imagination, but a plate smeared
with blood and laden with dead flesh becomes disgusting
and repulsive the moment we consider it in that light.
Cooking may disguise the appearance but cannot alter
the reality of the decaying corpse; and to
cook blood and give it another name (gravy) may be
an artifice to please the palate, but it is blood,
(blood that once coursed through the body of a highly
sensitive and nervous being), just the same.
Surely a person whose olfactory nerves have not been
blunted prefers the delicate aroma of ripe fruit to
the sickly smell of mortifying flesh, or
fried eggs and bacon!
Notice how young children, whose taste
is more or less unperverted, relish ripe fruits and
nuts and clean tasting things in general. Man,
before he has become thoroughly accustomed to an unnatural
diet, before his taste has been perverted and he has
acquired by habit a liking for unwholesome and unnatural
food, has a healthy appetite for Nature’s sun-cooked
seeds and berries of all kinds. Now true refinement
can only exist where the senses are uncorrupted by
addiction to deleterious habits, and the nervous system
by which the senses act will remain healthy only so
long as it is built up by pure and natural foods; hence
it is only while man is nourished by those foods desired
by his unperverted appetite that he may be said to
possess true refinement. Power of intellect has
nothing whatever to do necessarily with the
aesthetic instinct. A man may possess vast
learning and yet be a boor. Refinement is not
learnt as a boy learns algebra. Refinement comes
from living a refined life, as good deeds come from
a good man. The nearer we live according to Nature’s
plan, and in harmony with Her, the healthier we become
physically and mentally. We do not look for refinement
in the obese, red-faced, phlegmatic, gluttonous sensualists
who often pass as gentlemen because they possess money
or rank, but in those who live simply, satisfying
the simple requirements of the body, and finding happiness
in a life of well-directed toil.
The taste of young children is often
cited by vegetarians to demonstrate the liking of
an unsophisticated palate, but the primitive instinct
is not wholly atrophied in man. Before man became
a tool-using animal, he must have depended for direction
upon what is commonly termed instinct in the selection
of a diet most suitable to his nature. No one
can doubt, judging by the way undomesticated animals
seek their food with unerring certainty as to its
suitability, but that instinct is a trustworthy guide.
Granting that man could, in a state of absolute savagery,
and before he had discovered the use of fire or of
tools, depend upon instinct alone, and in so doing
live healthily, cannot what yet remains of
instinct be of some value among civilized beings?
Is not man, even now, in spite of his abused and corrupted
senses, when he sees luscious fruits hanging within
his reach, tempted to pluck them, and does he not
eat them with relish? But when he sees the grazing
ox, or the wallowing hog, do similar gustatory desires
affect him? Or when he sees these animals lying
dead, or when skinned and cut up in small pieces,
does this same natural instinct stimulate him to steal
and eat this food as it stimulates a boy to steal
apples and nuts from an orchard and eat them surreptitiously
beneath the hedge or behind the haystack?
Very different is it with true carnivora.
The gorge of a cat, for instance, will rise at the
smell of a mouse, or a piece of raw flesh, but not
at the aroma of fruit. If a man could take delight
in pouncing upon a bird, tear its still living body
apart with his teeth, sucking the warm blood, one
might infer that Nature had provided him with carnivorous
instinct, but the very thought of doing such
a thing makes him shudder. On the other hand,
a bunch of luscious grapes makes his ‘mouth
water,’ and even in the absence of hunger he
will eat fruit to gratify taste. A table spread
with fruits and nuts and decorated with flowers is
artistic; the same table laden with decaying flesh
and blood, and maybe entrails, is not only inartistic it
is disgusting.
Those who believe in an all-wise Creator
can hardly suppose He would have so made our body
as to make it necessary daily to perform acts of violence
that are an outrage to our sympathies, repulsive to
our finer feelings, and brutalising and degrading
in every detail. To possess fine feelings without
the means to satisfy them is as bad as to possess
hunger without a stomach. If it be necessary and
a part of the Divine Wisdom that we should degrade
ourselves to the level of beasts of prey, then the
humanitarian sentiment and the aesthetic instinct are
wrong and should be displaced by callousness, and
the endeavour to cultivate a feeling of enjoyment
in that which to all the organs of sense in a person
of intelligence and religious feeling is ugly and repulsive.
But no normally-minded person can think that this
is so. It would be contrary to all the ethical
and aesthetic teachings of every religion, and antagonistic
to the feelings of all who have evolved to the possession
of a conscience and the power to distinguish the beautiful
from the base.
When one accustomed to an omnivorous
diet adopts a vegetarian regime, a steadily growing
refinement in taste and smell is experienced.
Delicate and subtle flavours, hitherto unnoticed,
especially if the habit of thorough mastication be
practised, soon convince the neophyte that a vegetarian
is by no means denied the pleasure of gustatory enjoyment.
Further, not only are these senses better attuned and
refined, but the mind also undergoes a similar exaltation.
Thoreau, the transcendentalist, wrote: ’I
believe that every man who has ever been earnest to
preserve his higher or poetic faculties in the best
condition, has been particularly inclined to abstain
from animal food, and from much food of any kind.’