Theosophy - Empirical Vegetarianism by W.Wybergh- Nov.1919 - Adyar Pamphlets No. 107
Adyar
Pamphlets No. 107
EMPIRICAL
VEGETARIANISM
by W.
WYBERGH
November
1919
[Reprinted from
The
Theosophical Review, Vol XXXVI, 1906]
THEOSOPHICAL
PUBLISHING HOUSE
ADYAR,
MADRAS, INDIA
AMONG
all the side-shows (to speak somewhat colloquially) of Theosophy,
there is perhaps none which so soon and so directly impresses its
importance upon the neophyte as the question of vegetarianism and
total abstinence, and in some form or other it seems destined to dog
his footsteps long after he has, in practice, decided for himself
whether he will or will not give up his conventional diet. For, to a
serious student, this bare, broad question, however he answers it,
appears to be but the point of departure for a number of trains of
thought which, if he follows them up, speedily lead him into the
wilderness of the half-known and the totally unknown.
By
way of a preface, I must ask pardon of my readers if
there appears to be
a good deal of the personal element in this article. I write
in a spirit of enquiry, in the hope of provoking a reply
from some more
advanced student. In South Africa, whence I write, Theosophy
is still in its infancy, there are no older students
at hand to refer to, and
I have consulted without success all the literature on the
subject which I have been able to lay hands upon, including,
I think, most of
that which has been published by the Theosophical
Publishing Society. My difficulties may perhaps be partly due to
personal idiosyncrasies, but I think that they are at any rate partly
inherent in the subject and therefore of interest to others. If I use
my own experience as an illustration, it is partly because one is on
safer ground in doing so, and partly in the hope that perhaps this
little bit of practical and autobiographical psychology may be of
some interest, or at any rate that it may arouse some sympathy for my
benighted condition.
To
begin with, I should say that I practise both vegetarianism
and abstinence
from alcohol, and have not the slightest desire to do otherwise,
except occasionally, in order to save inconvenience to myself
or to others. In this particular case it is not that
the spirit is willing
but the flesh weak, for both spirit and flesh are perfectly
willing, so that I fear that it is the intellect that
is weak, or at any rate
is unable to be convinced; in short I am unable to justify
the faith
that is in me either to myself or to others.
The
stock arguments in favour of the practice divide themselves
naturally under two heads: on the one hand the appeal
to our love of animals
and the sacredness of life, in effect that eating flesh is
forbidden because it involves killing, and killing is
bad ; and on the other
hand the statement that abstinence is necessary if we would "purify" our
vehicles and make them into better channels
for the
life of higher planes to flow through.
Speaking
broadly, the first set of arguments appear to me invalid,
and the
second set, while perfectly valid,
and corroborated by my own practical experience as far as
it goes, do not seem to me to have been worked out in
detail, even in the
published works of Mrs. Besant and Mr. Lead beater, in such
a manner as to carry intellectual conviction by a real
explanation of what "purification" means,
and how it is that abstinence from meat, rather than,
let us say, from bread, brings about
such purification.
I
am reduced, therefore, to the very lame statement that
I am a vegetarian
and total abstainer because it appears to suit me, and because
certain people in whom I have confidence have told me that
I ought to be; whereas I should like to feel,
as the advocates of the practice
are apparently happy enough to do, that it was in support
of some grand principle, and that the ensuing purification
of the vehicle
could be explained to the scoffer as, for instance, one explains
the removal of dirt by the chemical action of soap, and
not merely by
recourse to "experimentum in corpore vili".
I
have said that the arguments resting on love for animals
and respect for
life appear on the whole invalid to me, and I will endeavour
to explain how this is. I do not think I am open to the
charge of
callousness, in fact I believe myself to be a very humane
man. At any rate I have an intense dislike of causing
pain to man or beast,
indeed the sight or knowledge of suffering in others causes
me the most acute nervous distress; yet I cannot say
that physical life
appears to me a very important thing, or that the deprivation
of it
can be considered a calamity. After all: "He who regardeth this
as a slayer, and he who thinketh he is slain, both of
them are
ignorant".
If
there is one thing that I seem to myself to have learned
from Theosophical
teaching and study, it is that death is a matter of indifference,
and no calamity. Theosophy, while removing, I hope for ever,
the fear of death for myself, has also removed the idea
of any peculiar
sanctity attaching even to human life in general. Life, my
own included, seems to me a thing to be weighed in the
balance,
pari passu with any other consideration, or thrown into the
scales when necessary for the attainment of any other
object.
I
see no reason, for instance, to regret my advocacy of
a war which cost
thousands of lives (some given willingly, some most unwillingly),
but which was necessary in order to attain to certain
results which
seemed to me rightly or wrongly, more important than
many lives. The correctness or otherwise of my judgment does
not affect the
argument, any more than does the correctness or otherwise
of the judgment of those who think a flesh diet useful to
the maintenance of
their health.
Now if
my attitude with regard to human life is, as I hope it is, a right
and reasonable one, surely it is not unreasonable when applied to the
life or the happiness and well-being of animals ? If it is sometimes
right to cause loss of human life in war, then surely it cannot be
always wrong to deprive animals of life. Their life is surely of far
less value to themselves or to the group-soul to which they belong,
and there
are no sorrowing relatives to consider. Those persons who
think that their own health and well-being is of more consequence
to the whole
world than the life of a pigeon are probably not very far
wrong, and if, even though they be mistaken, they think that
the death of a
pigeon conduces to their own well-being, they are not, it
seems to me, to be condemned for killing it. On the other
hand, it follows
that others who, like myself, think that they are better
without pigeon-pie, would be wrong in killing, and vegetarianism
thus becomes
a matter of individual opinion, based upon no very clear
premises.
Of
course the real issue is frequently, and even usually, obscured by
those who appeal to compassion by the drawing of harrowing and no
doubt only too true pictures of the cruelties (utterly needless and
inexcusable) which are practised in slaughter-houses and in the
business of the supply and transport of animals. I fully share their
indignation and disgust, but the argument is not affected thereby. Is
it not possible, moreover, that our clairvoyant investigators may
have wrongly ascribed the effects which they have observed on the
astral plane to the actual taking of life, when they should really be
ascribed to these horrible, but only incidental, cruelties ?
Again,
we are told that slaughter brutalises the slaughterer, and that we
have no right to acquiesce in the performance by others of actions
from which we should shrink ourselves. This is a double-edged and
far-reaching argument, for it is surely begging the question to say
that it is the trade which produces the
brutal man, and not the brutal man who makes an otherwise harmless
trade brutal.
Now,
as to facts, my own small experience of butchers certainly
corroborates
Colonel Thornton's (see "In Defence of the Sportsman",
Theosophical Review for January, 1905), namely,
that in moral character they do not appear to differ much
from other men.
My much larger experience of sportsmen (not Miss Ward's kind)
is that they
are to be reckoned among the most humane of my acquaintance,
and that, far from becoming brutalised, the more experienced
the hunter
becomes, the keener he is about true sport, the less he cares
for the extent of his bag, and the more he loves and respects
the animals he
hunts. Lest I should be accused of being loath to relinquish
my favourite pursuit, and thus of being biased, I may here
say that
though I have been, I am no longer, a sportsman, chiefly
owing to lack of time, and to other more absorbing interests,
and partly owing
to the same reasons which make me a vegetarian. As for the
other kind
(Miss Ward's kind) the man who hunts tame animals,
and breeds pheasants for the fun of knocking them over by
the
hundred I
should not call him a sportsman, and his proceedings appear
to me
not so much cruel as inane.
To
return to the butcher, however, let us grant for the sake
of argument
that for us slaughter would be brutalising. I do
not see that it can on that account be assumed to be wrong
for the butcher, who may be,
let us suppose, at a very much lower
stage of evolution. It would no doubt be wrong to force
a sensitive person into the trade, but surely the honest
butcher, doing his duty
according to his lights, is also treading the appointed path
and merits neither our pity nor our condemnation. We
accept from others
many services which it is right for them to render and for
us to accept, but which it would be wrong for us to undertake,
because it
is not our "job", and we have other more suitable
work to
do which cannot be done by others.
All
that has been said so far is on the assumption that death
is an evil,
though a comparatively small one, but I do not think we have
any right to assume that it is an evil at all. Evolution
proceeds by the
building up and dissolution of successive forms, but who
shall say
that the building up is necessary and "good", and
the
dissolution wanton and "evil" ? Both seem to
be necessary and complementary to one another. It is said,
however, that we have
no right to take upon ourselves the responsibility of deciding
when the form is ripe for dissolution. This, however, involves
the
assumption that we are the makers instead of the agents of
destiny. The world is the field for countless interwoven
yet independent
evolutions. Each pursues its own course and incidentally
becomes the instrument by which the evolution of others is
carried on. It must be
granted, of course, that the higher the organism involved
the greater is the responsibility attached to action, and
apparently it is on
this principle that we are expected to
shrink from killing the ox, while cheerfully slaughtering
the grain and the fruit; yet there cannot, it seems to
me, be much validity in
an argument based upon the avoidance of responsibility. Let
us meanwhile remember that inaction and indecision are
just as binding
as action and decision, and that: "Inaction based
on selfish
fear can bear but evil fruit". If it is too great a
responsibility to kill, not only a man, but even a pigeon,
how is it that we dare assume the responsibility of parentage
?
If, however,
we confine ourselves to the less complicated
questions of animal life, it still is not apparent to me
that
in this respect there is any difference in responsibility
between the man who breeds domestic animals
without a view to the butcher, or "preserves" wild
ones without a view to the gun, and the man who butchers
the
first for food or shoots the others for sport; both actions
are equal in
interference with the operation of natural laws. In the case
of the sportsman the interference is at a minimum, for
all wild animals die
violent deaths, and the sportsman merely constitutes himself
one of
the natural agencies which are always at work.
But
there are not wanting those who maintain both that the deprivation
of life is in itself an evil act, and also that under
no circumstances
are we entitled to benefit directly or indirectly by the
loss of others, to sacrifice the lower to the higher,
or, as perhaps they
would put it, to do evil that good may come. I have the greatest
sympathy with this uncompromising attitude, though I am by
no means
prepared to grant the
assumption involved. To me this attitude seems to be bound
up with all the best and noblest aspirations of mankind.
I do not blame those
who keep this ideal before their eyes because they do
not practise what they preach, for the simple fact is that
it
is impossible to
live in the world as now constituted, and at the same time
to carry
out these beautiful and true ideas in practice.
I
do not think that anyone will seriously maintain that
it is possible to live
in the world and to refuse to countenance under any circumstances
the drawing of advantage from the killing or suffering
or loss of man or
beast. We are asked to consider our responsibility for the
murder of pigs and the morals of the family butcher,
but do we realise how far
the ramifications of the principle "another's loss,
our gain" extend
? For it is impossible to confine the matter to the question
of killing or not killing, meat or bread ; the principle
extends far more deeply and widely than that. It would be
tedious to give
instances, we can all supply them for ourselves.
Nevertheless,
I admit that the altruistic principle is both beautiful and
true, nay, I affirm that its realisation is the one thing
- worth living for.
And yet the way to this realisation is not, it seems to me,
by
appeals to prejudice, labelling killing "bad",
vegetarianism "good", sport "cruel",
vivisection "d iabolical", nor yet by arguments
so mixed up with emotion and vivid imagery as to blind instead
of illuminating,
but rather by the resolute determination to see things as
they are
and make the best of them, to
alleviate where we cannot cure, to comprehend rather than
to condemn.
I have
put forward my own feelings as a very small contribution
to the psychology of the subject, believing them to be
in some degree
representative of the ordinary kind-hearted man, who earnestly
wishes to be as considerate to his younger brothers as
the circumstances
permit, but does not think that the interests and convenience
of the grown man ought to be unduly sacrificed to those
of the child.
I
believe that I can and do love animals and my fellow men, while I am
perfectly ready to acquiesce in the pain or injury either of them or
myself for good cause shown, ff death be an injury, then I am ready
to sacrifice either my life or theirs, whichever seems required least
in the scheme of things, trusting that if I do wrong I shall learn by
my mistake.
The best
guess that I can make at the rights and wrongs of the matter is that
consistent altruism is not possible on the physical plane by its very
nature, since in physical matters it is plain that the more one has,
the less there is for others, and the logical consequence would often
be self-starvation. It is therefore vain and futile to aim at pure
altruism here. We have to follow our own dharma, however beautiful
and attractive the dharma of another, far beyond us, may appear, and
part of the dharma of the physical plane is the preservation of the
body, even at the cost of others.
In
matters of desire and intellect, altruism is more and more
possible
and therefore worth aiming at, but
it seems that it cannot be logically and completely
practised until we
have passed beyond the boundaries of selfhood. Meanwhile
we have to turn the wheel of Life-Death, creating, preserving,
and destroying,
for God fulfils Himself in many ways. We are tied to the
world-order, and it appears to me a true world-order,
not a weltering chaos of
selfishness and cruelty, even though it does involve the
taking of life and of other things, and even though,
by virtue of That within
us, we may feel and often do feel with St. Paul that "to
depart
and be with Christ is far better". That time is not
yet come for us, though even here and now, if we lift our
eyes from the
details which appear so sordid and selfish, viewed by themselves,
we may vaguely sense the One.
It seems to mo reasonable and
natural, and
therefore an aspect of the Divine, that we men must, when
called upon, whether we like it or not, sacrifice our life
and our all for
country, principles, or in fact whatever in the great scheme
transcends in importance our own individuality; it seems
right that a general should sacrifice the lives of his men,
sending, from his
own position of perfect security, thousands to certain death,
if thereby the lives of others, and among them his own more
valuable
life, may be preserved for his country's advantage. If they
volunteer, it is well, but if they do not, he sends them
just the same; in either case he loves and honours them,
even as he slays
them, for though they are humbler, less important, and therefore
rightly sacrificed, yet are they not his brothers ?
Even
so is it right and just that the happiness, the welfare,
even the lives of animals should be sacrificed to man.
We are not called upon
to attempt the impossible task of avoiding killing, but rather
to love while we kill, accepting or requiring the sacrifice
of physical
life (if it be a sacrifice) and giving in return that assistance
on a higher plane which we are able, and should be willing,
to give.
A
grateful country cannot reward on the physical plane the
sacrifice of her sons, and we cannot repay the animals
we kill, yet we can
vicariously reward the whole animal kingdom and the group-souls
functioning therein, by our love and gratitude for what they
give us; we can ensure, by care and thoughtfulness, that
no wanton pain or
unnecessary sacrifice is imposed upon them; and, more important
still, we can see to it that by our own single-minded devotion
the sacrifice which we accept from those below us is
accepted but for the
purpose of making us in our turn better implements of the
Divine
Will.
The
attempt which is constantly made by the (physical) altruists
of the Theosophical Society to utilise as argument that
which, as I have
said, in its ultimate fullness seems to lie beyond the intellect
altogether, must inevitably lead us into a maze of casuistry.
It
will be said, however, I do not doubt, that my own arguments
are just as
casuistical as those to which they are opposed. At any rate
I am deeply conscious of the possibility of some underlying
fallacy a
consideration which ought also to afflict those who differ
from me, even if it is at times forgotten. My arguments,
nevertheless,
represent "truth" to me for the present, until
I find
better ones.
And
to those who may think me captious I will only say that
it is not
comfortable to feel that one differs not only from Mrs.
Besant, Mr.
Leadbeater, and other "seers", but also from the
main body
of Theosophists.
I cannot
deduce vegetarianism as a rule of life from the principles
here discussed, nor do the principles themselves, as
I have endeavoured to
show, appear to be beyond question. Nevertheless, from behind
the mist of thought and argument I seem to obtain a glimpse
of truth of
which the intellectual aspect, filtered through my personality,
appears as follows :
Standing
with Arjuna on the field of Kurukshetra, the enquirer
learns that killing is right and necessary; that death
is no
evil; that action
binds not, but the desire for the fruit of action. He then
who takes life or accepts any sacrifice from others must,
if he would be
blameless, do so not for his personal advantage as an object
in itself, but in order that by the sacrifice he may
become better
fitted to do the work, great or small, which he has to do.
And, again, the amount of the sacrifice that he may accept
or require from
others is measured by the extent to which he in his turn
is ready to sacrifice himself. Here at any rate is no
sense of separateness,
which is Hate, but that emphasising of the "united
Self" which
we are told is Love.
Let
us now turn to the other set of arguments, which, as
I have said, appear
to me valid, to be borne out by my own limited experience,
but yet to be so obscure and incomplete as to justify
the application of the
epithet "empirical" to the practice of vegetarianism.
In
the first place it may, I think, be assumed that the
object aimed at,
viz., the improvement of the vehicles of man, is a reasonable
one. Of course for those who make of self-improvement
an object in
itself whose only desire is to enjoy the advantages
of a wider consciousness, and the extended powers that accompany
it the
question is whether, and how far, the game is worth the candle.
No doubt
in the earlier stages of human development evolution is helped
forward by enlightened selfishness, when the choice, that is to say,
is between enlightened and unenlightened selfishness only.
It
is also true that among intellectual people there are
many to whom
superphysical consciousness seems a very desirable end in
itself, who are prepared to go to far greater lengths
than mere abstinence from
flesh and alcohol in order to attain their object, and of
such, I
suppose, are the Brothers of the Shadow.
For
my own part I confess that the possession of astral vision,
for
instance, as a personal acquisition, does not seem to differ
intrinsically from the possession of very acute physical
sight or
hearing, or say the power of physical flight.
None
of these powers have fallen to my lot, and though they
are all no doubt
very desirable and attractive,
yet I feel that I can get along quite well without them,
and there are other much more important things to think of.
Even from the
selfish point of view I don't see that one is likely to be
the least happier for their attainment, but, as I have said,
this is a matter
of taste.
Far
otherwise is it when that which is beyond words has once
shown itself, for then the motive is neither to have
nor to know, but to be; rather is there no motive in
all, but a devouring, overmastering
attraction, which no created thing can satisfy. There is
then no question, no weighing of advantages or disadvantages,
though there
may be and is temporary negligence, temporary forgetfulness
and
temporary failure.
Such a
man, seeking only to become a more perfect expression of the Divine
Will, cannot but adopt vegetarianism or any other measure as his rule
of life, if once he is convinced of its utility.
Yet
the moving force that impels him, while quite different
to the emotional
or sentimental reasons which some would substitute for it,
is also quite a different thing from the intellectual
conviction which guides
his efforts, and this "conviction" itself is
for the ordinary man a very complex thing, made up of a number
of elements
which vary in proportion with different individuals.
Perhaps
the three principal elements are personal experience, the
ipse dixit of friends or recognised authorities,
and logical scientific
reasoning by which alleged facts are shown to be in harmony
with
general principles
or with other facts already recognised as such. A fourth,
less common, and for most people less trust worthy, is the
inner
super-rational conviction.
For
many individuals the first and second, taken together,
are sufficient; for
all, the last is authoritative when fully felt; but for complete
knowledge in the ordinary scientific sense that is,
knowledge
which is not merely personal opinion all the first
three
elements are essential.
The
first is the cornerstone of science; the second, while it
saves time, is also required to assure us that our ideas
are objective as
well as subjective; and the third is the keystone of the
arch, without which our knowledge is merely a heterogeneous
pile of
provisional and isolated facts.
For
my own part I fancy that my conviction of the value of
vegetarianism to
me depends a good deal on number one, a little on number
two, a good deal more on number four, and scarcely at
all on number three ; and
in general it appears to me that while experience and authority
on the subject abound, we have up to the present a most
notable and
lamentable deficiency of attempts to put in the keystone.
And
yet it appears to me that it is only when thus coordinated
that any fact
or theory is fit to be published abroad outside the circle
of students, or that it can bo deemed to have passed
into the general
heritage of mankind.
I think
I have said enough to show that I do not minimise the value of the
higher knowledge, but it is indubitable
that that knowledge cannot be communicated to others, and that by
substituting for it mere emotionalism the cause of vegetarianism
actually loses ground and is on the way to degenerating into a mere
fad.
It
is of course more than likely that the actual method
by which a so-called "impure" physical body
prevents the manifestation through it of forces from
higher planes is, and must for the present
remain,
entirely beyond our comprehension, and therefore that a completed
"proof" of the value of vegetarianism is impossible.
In
this case, however, I think we should be frankly told
so, instead of being
put off with the statement that these forces cannot act through "gross" aggregations
of the matter of the various sub-planes, which is no explanation
at all.
But
short of that, there is much to be done in the way of describing in
terms of atoms, motion, relative position, in short of mechanism,
what are those physical conditions which as a matter of fact do
hinder such manifestation.
Here
again it adds nothing to our knowledge to be told that certain
chemical compounds are " pure" when derived from
wheat, and
"impure" when derived from flesh, and it is evident
that an
adequate conception of the sense in which "pure" and "impure" are
used is of the first importance.
If
we bear in mind that we are dealing with the physical
body only, the
moral or religious meanings connoted by the word "purity" must
be ruled out, and the
word used in a physical sense. At once, however, we encounter a
confusion of ideas in the descriptions usually given.
For
instance, in "Man and His Bodies", page
18, Mrs. Besant speaks of a "pure and noble (physical)
dwelling for the self", thus
attributing to the physical body qualities which are emotional
and intellectual, and which therefore, as it appears to
me, can only be
attributed to the astral and mental bodies; and throughout
not only this manual but all the literature on the subject
there appears to
exist a similar looseness in the use of terms such as "impure","polluting", "refinement", "gross", "coarse", etc.
I
am not now discussing the question as to whether, in
addition to the
physical action of "gross" food, there may or
may not be some direct action between it and the astral body.
It is hardly
conceivable that the chemical combinations of the physical
plane can directly affect astral matter; though, if it is
true that all
physical aggregates have their more or less permanent astral
counterparts, such action might be imagined though hitherto
not
described.
In
the
strict physical sense, however, an "impurity" is
merely an admixture of some ingredient other than the essential
one, be it
harmless or harmful for any particular purpose. Dirt, in
fact, is matter in the wrong place, and to introduce an emotional
element of
disgust, etc., can only confuse the issue; for it would appear
that there is nothing common or unclean, all matter as such
being equally
divine, "products of decomposition" being merely re-arrangements
of physical atoms and molecules, and just as "clean" as
anything else.
Admittedly
some products of decomposition, called "carrion" as
a term of opprobrium, are extremely unpleasant to the senses
of most
men, though I have seen Kaffirs and other fourth-race men
eating it with every appearance of enjoyment and of advantage
to their health.
But surely it is part of the vegetarian argument that our
senses are no sufficient guide to what is really good for
our bodies, any more
than our emotions are.
It
must be, then, that flesh and alcohol introduce into
the body matter
which, though as "clean" as any other matter,
is either harmful to the health or else (which is the crux
of the matter) has
some specific, but hitherto unspecified, physical quality,
which, in some hitherto unexplained way, hinders the manifestation
through the
body of the life of the higher planes, and which is not possessed
by
matter of the same chemical composition derived from vegetables
without the interposition of an animal's organism or manufacturer's
still.
As
to health, there is no doubt that opinions differ among
medical men, in
whose province alone the matter lies ; yet as a layman I
must say that I have failed to notice that a moderate
consumption of flesh or
alcohol prejudices the health of the ordinary man or unfits
him for
his work. ,
In
any case, if it is claimed to be a fact, the reasons
for it have not, as
far as I know, been worked out in such a way as to convince
the
general body of
medical men that a real law of Nature has been discovered such,
for instance, as that explaining the action of oxygen on
the blood
through the lungs. The "fact" is therefore as
yet only "theory", and the keystone is lacking.
But how,
on broad lines, are the effects of flesh and alcohol on the physical
body to be generalised as influencing the Higher Life ?
The
answer, to be convincing, must be in terms of pure mechanism, dealing
with physical differences in the arrangement or motions of physical
atoms and molecules, classifying some such arrangements as useful,
others as harmful.
It
is just here that all explanation fails at present. If
it is permissible
to take the words "gross" and "coarse" in
the purely physical sense, their use would represent about
the only
attempt hitherto made at such a classification. It would
then appear that in flesh, the atoms or molecules of matter,
whether in the
solid, liquid, or gaseous state, are in a different physical
state of aggregation from that in which the atoms or molecules
of the same
substances exist when they are derived from the vegetable
kingdom, or that they induce such a different condition in
the materials already
composing the human body.
If
this is so, the difference, being physical, would be
capable of being
detected in the laboratory, or at any rate of being explained
to the intellect of the ordinary educated man. I am not
aware that any such
distinction has yet been recognised,
or that, for instance, albumen derived from flesh can be
distinguished from any other albumen, or even from that which
has
been recently produced by chemists from "inorganic" ingredients;
and the same applies with still more force to the simpler
chemical compounds, such as fats, sugars, acids, mineral
salts, and water itself.
In
short, it appears broadly as though hydrogen were always
the same hydrogen, carbonic acid always the same carbonic
acid, and so on,
however they are generated, and whencesoever they are derived.
Colour is given to this, the common idea, also by Mrs.
Besant's well-known
article on "Occult Chemistry", where, on the four
higher physical sub-planes, the ultimate atoms are shown
to combine in fixed
numbers and definite arrangements to produce those simpler
forms which, on the gaseous sub-plane, combine to form the
various gases
known to chemists.
The
subject of "products of decomposition", regarded
as a definitely harmful class of constituents of the body,
has already
been referred to, and it has been pointed out that decomposition
is merely the name for a re-arrangement of atoms or molecules,
generally
in simpler forms, and often involving an addition of oxygen.
But, if
this is so, almost anything may be regarded as a "product
of
decomposition".
To
take the particular case of alcohol, again eliminating
all moral or
religious questions, and confining ourselves to its physical
constitution; alcohol is the name given to a whole class
of chemical compounds of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen;
and ordinary,
or ethyl, alcohol is a member of this class, intermediate
in properties between methyl and butyl alcohol. Ethyl
alcohol in
practice is usually derived from the "decomposition" of
sugar, which again is derived from starch. It represents,
in fact, a stage in the oxidation of sugar, and a continuance
of the process,
with further oxidation, converts it into acid (vinegar for
instance).
Where then does the "impurity" lurk? It is presumably
not in the original starch of sugar, nor in the oxygen; and
if it were
the process that is "impure", then vinegar might
be
expected to be still worse.
Again,
although ethyl, or ordinary alcohol, is usually prepared in the
manner just indicated, yet the alcohols generally can, in the
laboratory, be prepared by quite other methods. Are they equally
harmful when thus prepared ?
If the
word coarse, or gross, in its strictly physical sense, be a more
correct way of characterising the peculiar objectionable quality,
then we have to understand that the molecules, or the atoms composing
the molecules, of alcohol are more closely or more loosely packed
together than are those of sugar or vinegar, and that this does all
the damage.
I have
intentionally discussed the subject from the point of view
of chemistry and physics, and not from that of physiology,
because I
have practically no knowledge of the latter science. It is
possible that the latter aspect may be most important,
but, at any rate, there
must be a chemical and physical side as well, and what I
chiefly aim
at in any case is to get this
matter of "gross", "coarse", "impure", etc.,
cleared
up, because, after all, it is the kind of term almost
exclusively used by those who have tried to give a scientific
explanation of the effect of flesh and alcohol upon the Higher
Life.
One
solution of the difficulty as regards flesh has indeed suggested
itself to me, only, however, to be abandoned. It occurred
to me that the difference between, say, carbon derived
from an animal and carbon
from a vegetable might be due to differences in the state
of development of the ultimate physical atoms of which
the chemical
element carbon is composed. That is to say, that in the case
of vegetable carbon these atoms might have developed
an extra set of
spirillae as compared with those composing animal carbon.
On
the other hand, as the animal kingdom is higher in the
scale than the
vegetable, the class of atoms composing animal bodies might
be expected to be the more highly evolved of the two.
As, however, again
I see this argument opening up a vista of cannibalism,
there seems to
be something shaky about it too!
On
the
whole, I confess with sorrow that all the "explanations" hitherto
given explain nothing to me, but rather obscure the subject
with a mist of words; and again, ever lurking in the background
of my
mind, are the words of the Christ:
There
is nothing from without a man that entering into him
can defile him,
but the things which come out of him, those are they
that defile the man.
There
is, however, one very important way in which it would appear
that vegetarianism can affect the astral body or mental
body directly,
but, then, presumably the same effect might be produced in
many cases, my own included, by a precisely opposite
course. I refer to
the disciplinary result of going without what one likes.
This seems to be a real and easily understood advantage
for all who aim at the
Higher Life. In my case, however, even this satisfaction
is denied me, for I detest, and always have detested,
meat and alcohol, or
rather, having always done so as a child and young man, I
am now, after a short struggle with the acquired conventional
habits of
society, returning to my distaste for them with a constantly
decreasing amount of effort, so that by this time it would
be a real penance to eat a beefsteak or drink a glass
of champagne.
This,
however, is travelling beyond the physical plane altogether, and
touching upon the great question of asceticism, which is much more
far-reaching than mere vegetarianism, though little emphasis is laid
upon it in the arguments of vegetarians.
Now,
as regards experimental vegetarianism there is, of course,
a very large
body of testimony as to the advantages believed to have been
derived from it. And in my own limited experience the
practical effects of
abstinence from flesh and alcohol seem to corroborate the
teachings received. It is perfectly true that since,
some few years ago, I
began these practices, I have found my health improving,
my brain
growing clearer, my thoughts and passions more
under control, my hold upon the things, good and bad, of
this world somewhat looser and more independent. Occasional
glimpses of what
seem to be higher planes have also not been wanting overtones,
as it were, of the common things of this life, some beautiful
beyond
words, some painful and depressing.
This,
however, is entirely vitiated as a criterion of the value of
abstinence by the fact that at the same time as I adopted the latter
as a rule of life I also began a very much stricter supervision over
my thoughts, passions and physical activities than ever before,
driven forward by the intellectual light that followed my first
recognition of Theosophy in this life, and by the immense
accentuation of the impulse toward the Higher Life which must follow
upon an increased intellectual grasp of ways and means.
Now,
whatever the influence of the body upon the mind may be, the
influence of the mind upon the emotions and the physical body is
quite undoubted. Accordingly I am quite unable to say how much, if
any, of the result is due to vegetarianism, and how much to direct
efforts upon higher planes. To obtain a test of any value, abstinence
should be coupled with an absence of special effort towards the
Higher Life, and the only place that occurs to me where these
conditions are fulfilled is in our prisons ! At any rate it is clear
that my private experience does not in itself warrant me in
advocating vegetarianism as a principle.
As
to the value of Authority in general, I have once or
twice already been
permitted by the kindness of the Editors to express my opinion
in this REVIEW, so I will not go
over the ground again. If my reason
told me that vegetarianism was wrong, no authority would
weigh
against it. As it is, my reason merely says "not proven", and
in such a case it appears a small thing to follow the
directions of those who say they know; it can do no harm
and may do
good, and
is not difficult anyhow.
I must,
however, frankly confess that at bottom I am a vegetarian
because I am made that way, and cannot do otherwise.
I have a deep and entirely
irrational conviction, binding for me, but worthless for
anyone else, that abstinence is right, if one only knew
why, and an equally
irrational purpose to follow it whither it may lead.
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