XV.THE WRITER FACES HIS OWN MUSIC.
A LADY-FRIEND, after looking over my papers, asked why I harped so much on the rather low and trivial subject of eating. “Because,” said I, “daily observation has driven me to it.” And this is just the truth. I see that everybody takes it for granted they must have good living, “whatever,” to use Mrs. Melendy’s word, rather than pleasures of a higher grade, even the pleasure of helping the needy.
Take a close fisted man like Mr. David, who, though well enough off, practices the strictest stinginess. With him the spending of each dime is carefully considered. A half-dollar given away is, as one may say, hung up in his memory, set in a frame, for handy reference. When such a man affords his family cakes, pies, preserves, and the like, for their daily food, we may consider such things to be firmly established as “must haves.”Indeed, all classes, poor as well as rich, seem to agree that the earning and compounding of these and similar articles rank among the chief objects of life. The very phrase “good living” shows this, since it implies that to live well is to eat well. A man said to me the other day, “When I can’t eat and drink what I want to, then I want to die.”
Now, if we were created only alittlelower than the angels, there certainly should be a wider space between us and the inferior animals than such a state of gormandism denotes. Not that the pleasures of eating are to be wholly despised. There is, after all, a relationship between us and the brutes; and we need not be ashamed to own our kindred, or to share in their enjoyments. Besides, these grains, fruits, vegetables, &c., which we are called to meet three times a day, are all our relations, on the mother’s side (Mother Nature’s), and should by no means be regarded with contempt, especially as it is their destiny to be worked up into human beings, actually made bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh.
I believe in festival days with all my heart, which is the very best way of believing. I think we should sometimes call our friends together, and gratify the whole of them (not meaning all ofthem, but the whole nature of each one),—give them bright thoughts for the intellect, friendliness for the heart, and good things for the palate, keeping, as regards the last, within the bounds of common-sense and healthfulness.
The palate craves enjoyment; and that craving, being a natural one, must be recognized as such. But what I insist upon is this; namely, that gratifying the palate shall not rank among the chief occupations or the chief enjoyments of life, for it has usurped those positions long enough.
And not only is it an usurper, crowding out better and more ennobling aims, but it makes slaves of women, and seriously affects their peace of mind. I have a bright-eyed young cousin, whose one idea, during the first half of the day at least, is to prepare a dinner which shall please the fastidious taste of her husband. For this end she works, plans, ponders, experiments, contrives, invents, and consults cook-books and cooks; and, this end attained, she is happy. But I have seen her at mealtime, when he has criticised unfavorably a dish on which she had spent much labor and more anxiety,—have seen her flush up, leave the table on some pretended errand, and (this is actual truth) brush tears from those bright eyes of hers. Another case. An elderly woman ofthis village died recently, the chief end and aim of whose whole married life had been, so people say who know, to cook in such a manner as exactly to please her husband. She succeeded. That husband made the remark, in this very house, and within this very week, that he hadn’t tasted a decent piece of custard-pie since his wife died. Among the wealthier classes it is just the same. I believe that Mrs. Manchester goes to her dinner-table every day with fear and trembling. Perhaps her case is worse than that of my cousin, as, with Mrs. Manchester, success or failure depends on the uncertain capabilities of Irish help. The blame, however, if blame there be, rests on Mrs. Manchester; and I have seen that the sarcastic manner in which Mr. Manchester blames, sometimes cuts into the quick. These may be exceptional cases: I trust they are. But that this state of things does prevail more or less generally, cannot be denied. If, then, the low and trivial matter of eating be sufficiently high and important to take so very prominent a position among our enjoyments, and to seriously affect the peace and happiness of woman’s life, why not harp on it?
It should be harped on, likewise, because it affects the condition of almost everybody. Simplify cookery, thus reducing the cost of living, and how many longingindividuals, now forbidden, would thereby be enabled to afford themselves the pleasures of culture, of travel, of social intercourse, of tasteful dwellings! And it might be added, at the risk of raising a smile, how many pairs of waiting lovers, now forbidden, would thereby be enabled to marry, and go to—paradise, which is to say housekeeping!
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 nothingbetter 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 illhealth 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 ofthe 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.