One word more. Europe has been called a hospital, a lazar-house. As Vegetarians — seeking a sound mind in a sound body—we would convert it into a paradise of health. Every staunch Vegetarian is an unpaid officer of health. Europe has been called the hell of animals, shambles, an Akeldama, or field of blood; our reform would turn it into a garden, a pleasance, a preserve for all innocent life. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all God's holy mountain. Strong meat will go the way of strong drink. The staff of life—wholemeal bread—is no rotten reed that will break under our weight; trust that primeval word:—
Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.
We accept the omen. Fruits and farinacea—the seed-bearing herb, the fruit-bearing tree—were the alpha of man's diet; they shall be the omega. From a garden to a garden, through slaughters and errors innumerable, winds the journey of the human race; through wars and bloodshed to perfect peace.
Were it not for gratitude due to past services, I should not notice Sir Henry Thompson's lack of Latin scholarship, or his travesty of Vegetarian profession and practice. Out of his mouth issues blessing as well as cursing. A surgeon of mark, he betrays to brawn-fed Philistines—thriving townsmen in Europe—mysteries hidden for ages, revealed in these last days by Vegetarians. Over-eating is more baneful even than over-drinking. Plures gula quam gladius. The sword slays its thousands, gluttony its ten thousands.
The oracle of the Nineteenth Century, like other oracles, may be duped by vanity. But Mr. Knowles sticks to his colours. His plan of action was—find men of note in one field; bid them air their whims in other fields. Fancy, on these terms, may riot at will. Not the world known to the ancients, but the 'world unexplored'—terra incognita—is peopled in old maps with shapes of wonder and fear, 'Gorgons and Hydras and Chimaeras dire.' Sir Henry Thompson on the use of the knife, would have been tame and wary. In the domain of Latin etymology and Vegetarian history, he frisks at ease, cumbered by no ballast of knowledge. There he
Up to the great might-have-been upsoaring sublime and ideal,
Gives to historical questions a free poetical treatment.
P.S.—In the April number of the Nineteenth Century for 1898, Sir Henry has an article: "Why Vegetarian?" from which I cull a flower or two.
