We now come to consider the various “food accessories,” as they are called—meaning the various condiments, etc., which go to make unappetising food palatable! If the food were natural to the organism, it should need no such appetisers: but I let that pass. Let us consider the relative values of these articles of diet, and see how far each of them may be considered as necessary and beneficial to the human organism. I shall begin with the one in most common use, and one that the majority think they cannot live without—salt!

Salt.—The arguments in favour of salt-eating, as found in the books, may be summarised thus:

1. It is natural to man, the habit being universal.

2. It is necessary to life. Human beings deprived of it die.

3. Wild and domestic animals crave and seek it.

4. It is an invariable constituent of the solids and fluids of the body; hence it must be supplied.

5. Cattle, when given it, increase greatly in weight, so that if not itself food, it may take the place of food by making it “go further.”

6. It retards the waste of the system, and in this way may prolong life.

7. It is essential to promote the secretion and flow of saliva and bile.

8. It promotes appetite by rendering the food more palatable.

The first three of the above propositions constitute what may be styled the prescriptive or old-fashioned argument. The next four, grouped together, are the chemical theory of the value of salt, and are of more recent origin. The last, though seldom advanced as a scientific reason, partakes of the character of science as well as of tradition.

In regard to No. 1, let us see how far it is borne out. To destroy logically the value of the proposition it would only be necessary to establish the case of a single individual who does not and has not used salt—raw salt—in his food. The universality, that which it rests upon, would then be broken. We ought not to be content with that, however. I think it would not be difficult to show that there are whole nations and tribes of people who do not eat salt. I am told by an Italian, who has lived among them, that the Algerians do not. I was myself informed, while in that region, that the Indian tribes inhabiting the banks of the Columbia River and Puget Sound do not. It is noteworthy also that those tribes are among the most peaceful, intelligent and industrious tribes in North America, and are of fine personal appearance. I think there is little doubt that the inhabitants of the islands of the Pacific Ocean lived from a period of vast antiquity, until their discovery by Europeans, without putting salt crystals on their food. It has continually happened that hunters, tourists, soldiers and explorers have been left for weeks, months and years without a supply of salt, by accident or otherwise, and have survived without apparent injury. Finally, there are many persons in the United States who have voluntarily abandoned the use of salt for periods ranging from one to twenty years (and for aught I know longer), not only without injury but with increased health, strength and activity. So far from being natural to man, the instincts of children, especially when born free from an inherited bias in its favour, go to show by their rejection of it that it is unnatural. Like the taste for coffee, tea and various seasonings, it is an acquired one. Few if any children do not prefer unsalted food.

It should not be overlooked that the manufacture and distribution of salt as an article of commerce is a thing of history, and has attained its enormous dimensions within the past century and a half. It is inconceivable that in past times the population of the world, made up as it was largely of pastoral and nomadic people inhabiting the interior of the great continents, should have supplied themselves with salt as an ingredient of food, as we do. The omission of any mention of it in the older chronicles and even among the more perfect records of the classics, except at the luxurious tables of the rich, goes to confirm this supposition.

Propositions Nos. 2 and 3 are of the same character, and have a like origin. It is discouraging to discover how little thorough sifting of beliefs there is among mankind—especially concerning matters of such primary importance as their daily diet—a neglect for which their hair-splitting casuistry on topics of faith and morals in no way atones. The foundation of the notion that men die when deprived of salt (and the inference therefrom that it is because of it), so far as I have been able to trace it, rests on an experience related in the older works on physiology, and copied with childlike confidence into the later ones, to the effect that, more than one hundred years ago, during the wars waged by England on the Continent, several thousand British soldiers, being shut up as prisoners of war in the low countries—at the Hague, I believe—and after an incarceration of many months, all died of disease, induced, it is stated, by being deprived of salt! The same cry, it will be remembered, has been charged to modern nations in more recent wars, and notably during the American Civil War, when the mortality was so great in the southern prisons. It needs no great natural acumen nor book learning to discover that there are other and far more potent disease-inducing causes at work to account for the dreadful mortality—even in these days of superior civilisation and greater humanity. Observation satisfies me that inattention to ordinary sanitary precautions—partly incident to confinement and partly to the rooted superstition in the minds of those who had charge of them, that disease is a something to be fought out with specific medicines after it has appeared, rather than prevented from making its appearance—will abundantly reconcile the facts, if they be facts; and in this I am confirmed by a comparison of the appalling ratio of mortality recorded in some of the most famed of London and Paris hospitals, where gangrene and fevers alone did their deadly work, in spite of the attentions of doctors, without appreciable aid from those inevitable attendants of war-prisons—homesickness, filth and bad diet. Such evidence as this would hardly be received in a trial for larceny; and yet it is solemnly repeated generation after generation by those who should be teachers of teachers.

The third proposition, in regard to the wild and domestic animals, is, like the preceding, not formidable when examined. I have diligently inquired of old hunters and pioneers for confirmation of the story that deer and buffalo are in the habit of visiting regularly the salt springs or “licks,” in order to eat the salt. I have not been able to find one who has ever seen the licking process himself. There is reason to believe that hunters do take their positions at certain brine-springs to find their game, and that the deer at certain seasons of the year resort to them—precisely why is not determined. Nothing of the kind is now claimed of the buffalo; that is a tradition. But suppose it were all true, as claimed, does that justify man in sprinkling the solid residue of the brine on his food? Is there not here too lofty a structure upon too slight a foundation? It is notorious that all the salt springs hold in solution (sometimes found encrusted on their sides) large amounts of lime, sulphur, iron, and commonly other ingredients.

The very purest of our table salts of commerce contain from 2 to 4 per cent. of the sulphate of lime, after they are supposed to have been purified and larger amounts of it removed. May it not be that at certain seasons, as in the winter when the herbage is covered by snow, or during pregnancy, when the foetus requires it, the deer (or buffalo, if you will) repair to these spots instinctively for that which nature denies them at the time? We know that cows on a scant pasture, at such times, will chew and partly dissolve an old bone; yet it would be equally reasonable to put ground bones on our food as an inference from this trait; indeed, more so, as the latter is an admitted fact of everyday occurrence, while the other is somewhat in doubt; and besides the economy of lime in the system is patent.

In regard to domestic animals we are on more solid ground; only it is constantly necessary to remember that we are dealing with creatures domesticated and subdued in some degree to the will of man. It is a common notion that salt is necessary to the well-being, if not the preservation, of horses and horned cattle. It is, I am persuaded, a great mistake. In the first place, although it is undoubtedly true that some domestic cattle will eat salt, and follow impatiently to get it, it is not true of wild cattle. I am assured by many of the great herders in Texas, Colorado and California, that the native cattle are not fed salt, never see it, and will not eat it if offered. Of course it is a transparent absurdity that salt could be hauled hundreds of miles to feed these great inland herds; and it is not done, as is supposed. They derive salt enough from the grass of the plains to supply nature’s demand, if any there be. This, if it furnishes any analogy at all, points to the food itself as the true source of supply for the human species.

But in regard to the craving of horses and cows kept within fences, enclosures and buildings, it is susceptible of proof, and has been proved many times, that it is an artificial and not a natural appetite. I have seen both horses and cows which will not eat salt if offered to them. The parents, when the supply was cut off, did not suffer perceptibly, and in a short time unlearned the habit. Neither the old ones nor their progeny will touch it now. I have not space here to enter into the question of the great injury done to the health, and consequently to the wholesomeness of the flesh of both improved and native or Texas varieties of cattle, by the pernicious practice of thrusting salt into their food, while preparing for, or on the way to, market, in order that the weight may be increased. It is worth the while of the State to institute an inquiry to see if this be not one of the provoking causes of the cattle diseases, and rinderpests of America and Europe.

The tendency in the human mind—the more so with the untrained intellect—to find the class of facts it is seeking for, and to overlook or ignore the class which makes against its preconceived notion or desire, is always to be guarded against. It is a little singular that the advocates of the salt habit should have selected the one or two species of wild animals, and the two or three allied species or varieties under domestication which do or can be made to eat salt, while the vastly greater number of both classes of animals which do not and cannot be made to, are overlooked. True enough, a hungry cow will eat what is called “salt hay,” whereon the brine from the sea has crystallised, but invariably the same cow will turn from it to good well-cured meadow hay. Hunger is a terrible temptation, hence many of our animals (and the same is true of children) acquire their taste for salt by its mixture with their food; and a reprehensible practice has begun of mixing salt, or lime, with the new hay in the stack in order to “cure” it—that is, to prevent its decay by excess of moisture—on the theory that the hay is improved thereby. Surely no argument can properly be drawn from appetites so engendered. On the same principle might we sprinkle sawdust with a horse’s oats, because, if kept up, he will gnaw away the boards within reach. For this, by the way, there are good physiological reasons.

Look, however, at the other side of the argument as drawn from the lower animals. How numerous are they by whom salt is rejected or to whom it is hurtful? The whole of the birds avoid salt. It is fatal to chickens and tame birds, as every housewife knows. Indeed, there is strong ground for supposing that much of what is called “chicken cholera,” “gapes,” and the like, is in part due to the presence of salt—not always in minute quantities—in the food taken from the table. Wild birds have no such epidemic diseases affecting the mucous linings of their organs. It is also fatal to the hog, that foulest and hardiest of omnivora, which, out of some stress of famine, or from its peculiar prolificacy, men have been led to dwell with and propagate as a food supply. I believe it is well ascertained that when hogs get a moderate amount of brine, or pickled salt meat, it is impossible to save them. To vary the phrase a little: that which will make a hog sick cannot, prima facie, be good food for his owner. Of all the range of wild animals, clean or unclean, it is yet to be shown that a single one eats salt voluntarily as food. Why should man be the exception?

It is further claimed that salt is a necessary constituent of the diet, for the reason that, when the body is examined, post-mortem, a certain amount of salt is found therein. From this it is argued that salt is therefore necessary to the human body! It is queer logic. Were opium or nicotine found in the body of the dead man, would it be argued that therefore opium or nicotine were necessary to the body in health? Yet the argument is just as logical, and the conclusion just as warranted.

All that can be urged, logically, is that salt is a necessary article of diet; and that, no one would deny. Certainly I would not. But I must insist that this salt can be supplied to the body in its organic form—just as any other salt can. It is contained in fruits and vegetables, together with other salts: why not eat it in that way, just as we eat those other salts? To be sure, we need common salt, just as we need iron, and potash, and sulphur, and lime, and other mineral salts; but no one thinks of sprinkling lime and potash and iron filings over his food, just the same! There is no more reason why we should sprinkle sodium chloride, or common salt, over our food, than there is why we should sprinkle any of these other salts. Both are equally mineral elements: both are inorganic substances; and hence both are equally unusable by the system. Salt can have no more effect upon the economy than iron filings can; and there is no more reason for taking the one into the system in this crude form than there is for taking the other. Only habit and prejudice sustain the custom.

It is urged, again, that salt preserves the waste of the tissues, and that animals, fed upon salt, become fat. There is but little evidence for this; but I shall grant its truth, for the sake of argument. Granting it to be true, what then?

We know that the antiseptic property of salt, its affinity for moisture, makes it valuable in the arts for some purposes, among which, of course, are conspicuous the preservation of dead animal meats. We see its effect in the beef or pork barrel, or on dried fish. It hardens and keeps dry the fibrous tissue so that oxygen enough cannot be reached to oxidate and break down the tissue by what is known as decomposition. If the salt were all withdrawn by solutions of water (whatever might be the effect on the meat itself) there would ensue no harm in its use in preserving food. Notoriously it is not done, and even greater is the necessity for removing the nitrate of potash with which the curing is assisted.

Is not the action of the salt in the system on the effete or dying tissues the same, in kind, as upon those in the brine barrel? I see nothing in the vital economy to negative the presumption. The particles of dead and oxidised tissue on their way out of the body, so far as they are brought within the influence of the salt—and this, as it floats in solution all over the body with the blood, must be general—are robbed of their moisture, dried, hardened, pickled, and their passage along the finer canals made more difficult. They lodge and remain, and hence account, in part, for the increased weight of the body. The added weight represents in part filth which ought to be outside of the body, not inside.

Many other objections might be urged to the use of salt, in this place; but space forbids. When anyone examines the evidence carefully and impartially, he will find that there is not one solitary argument in favour of the habit that will stand the test of criticism; while there are many arguments, on the contrary, which conclusively prove it to be injurious and unphysiological. The single argument, based upon the undoubted fact that many hundreds of people in the United States and elsewhere, have totally abandoned salt, and have not depreciated themselves in consequence, but have on the contrary, improved their health and general physical condition, is proof in itself that salt-eating is a habit— is not necessary, but is, on the other hand, positively injurious. When we take these facts into consideration, we can come to no other conclusion but that salt-eating is a habit, pure and simple, which is not only unnecessary, but is exceedingly detrimental to the physical health of the individual who continually eats it.

Pepper is not, like salt, a mineral substance; it is a vegetable poison. Flies will not touch it, neither will they eat salt. Black pepper, if taken upon an empty stomach in the moderate quantity of a teaspoonful, will either be promptly ejected, or it will cause great disturbance in the stomach and bowels, and also in the heart’s action, after it enters the circulation. It is in no sense a food, but in every sense a stimulant, which is but another name for a substance non-usable by the vital organs, and therefore to be thrown out of the vital domain. Red or black pepper is a prolific cause, as are all stimulants, of enlargement of the blood vessels, and ultimately of disease of the heart. Its immediate effect upon the tongue, throat, stomach and bowels is to cause an increased action, not only of the capillaries, causing temporary congestion and even inflammation of the mucous surfaces, but also of the organs which secrete the digestive fluids. Its ultimate effect is to weaken and deaden these organs, by repeated stimulation, to abnormal action; it also impairs or destroys the organs of taste within the mouth, together with the gastric or other nerves which aid in the process of digestion. When these are weakened by stimulants, the functions themselves are necessarily impaired, and confirmed dyspepsia, with its attendant train of bad symptoms, brings up the rear.

It is needless to say that ginger, spices, nutmeg, cinnamon, and all that class of condiments, however much they may vary in quality, are stimulating to a greater or a less degree, and must be put in the list of “things forbidden” in the hygienic dietary. The habit, every year increasing, of using spices and condiments in almost every article of food, and in such large quantities, cannot be too severely condemned. The end must be hopeless indigestion, with prostration of the nerves which supply the digestive organs, and detriment or ruin to the entire system.

In the language of Sylvester Graham:

Nor does Dr Graham stand alone in his views upon this subject. Pereira says:

Dr Beaumont is essentially of the same opinion. He remarks:

In doing away with spices and condiments we must also dispense with pickles; there is nothing in a pickle to redeem it from hopeless condemnation. The spices in it are bad, and the vinegar is a seething mass of rottenness, full of animalculÆ, and the poor little innocent cucumber, or other vegetable, if it had a little “character” in the beginning, must now fall into the ranks of the “totally depraved.”

Mustard.—Dr William Tibbles, in his “Food and Hygiene,” p. 213, says:

In other words, what really happens is this: Mustard is an irritant and a stimulant to the mucous membranes at all times, and for that reason, harmful. Delicate membranes, such as those of the nose and eyes, detect and resent this irritation at once; but the throat and stomach, being rendered more or less inert and unresponsive, because of years of perverse living on cooked foods, spices, stimulants, and irritants, do not resent and react against this particular irritant as forcibly as do the other membranes. The fact, however, that the secretion is increased, and that the circulation in the blood vessels of the stomach is augmented, clearly indicates that nature is endeavouring to offset and rid the system as speedily as possible of this irritant poison. When any poison is introduced into the alimentary canal, the system immediately pours out its secretions, in an attempt to liquefy, antidote, and wash through the invading poison as rapidly as possible. That is the rationale of the action of all purgatives, and is the reason why increased secretion and circulation is noted whenever stimulants or irritants are introduced into the alimentary canal. The very fact that these physiological disturbances take place indicates clearly that the substance that has been ingested is poisonous, and detrimental to the vital economy. For that reason, and because of these symptoms, mustard must be debarred from any hygienic diet; and for the same reason, white, black, and cayenne pepper, paprika, cloves, nutmeg, curry powder, garlic, salt, and similar substances must be eliminated from any diet that is to be considered wholesome, and in accordance with the laws of nature.

Indeed, in writing of all condiments, Dr Tibbles himself was forced to admit that:

I would add to this that if they are to be withheld from healthy individuals and children, they should most certainly and more particularly be withheld from invalids, and from the debilitated and enfeebled. Were the true rationale of the action of stimulants understood, this would be so apparent as to render further comment unnecessary. If it were once fully understood that stimulants, instead of adding energy to the system, merely called it forth from the system, there could no longer be any excuse for their use, upon the ground that they are necessary and suitable articles of food. Condiments and spices of all kinds might easily be eliminated from a hygienic diet, and nothing but increased health and energy would follow the results of this process of elimination.

Vinegar.—So far from being a true article of food, or an alimentary substance, vinegar, like alcohol, is a product of vegetable decay, and is always injurious to the human stomach. In addition to this, it contains a large number of germs which, introduced into the system, are liable to cause great havoc. If acid is required, it may be obtained in a variety of forms, and is readily supplied by all acid fruits, and particularly by lemons. The citric acid of the lemon is appropriable by the system, and is one of the most wholesome acids known to us. It will readily take the place of vinegar—on occasions where we have been in the habit of using the latter substance. It should be noted in this connection that lemon juice, when ingested into the human system, is invariably split up, in the course of a few hours, and the all-day effects of the acid is to decrease the acidity of the system, and to increase the alkalinity of the blood. This was conclusively proved by Dr Haig, in England, and now forms a large part of his treatment for all uric acid diatheses. The immediate effect of the acid is to increase the acidity; but, owing to the fact that it is split up, as stated, the all-day effects are invariably to decrease the acidity, and rid the system of its uric acid. No such beneficial results are observable from the practice of drinking vinegar.

Oils—Olive Oil.—Under “oils” may be classed, roughly speaking, all fats, animal and vegetable, such as suet, lard, tallow, marrow, grease, butter, blubber, and the oils of various nuts. Animal oils are amongst the least nutritious, and most injurious kinds of alimentary substances. The oils from the vegetable kingdom are far more wholesome, and, to a normal stomach, almost innocuous. If oils or fatty matter of any kind are desired in the diet, these might just as well be supplied from the vegetable world as from the animal; and the oils are obtained free from the impure materials, which invariably accompany animal fats. In other words, the same amount of fatty materials may be obtained, without ingesting at the same time the toxic substances which invariably accompany the fats derived from the animal kingdom. Of those fats which are derived from the animal world, more or less directly, butter and cream are doubtless the most wholesome; but there are many objections to both of these, as I have pointed out elsewhere.

Olive oil, when obtained pure, is doubtless the best form of oil that we know. The chief difficulty is in obtaining it in a pure state. Cotton seed oil is generally sold on the market in place of olive oil, and is in many ways detrimental to the organism. “Sylmar” olive oil is a pure oil of the first quality, made from ripe olives, and can heartily be recommended. A few of the best French and Italian oils are also excellent, if they are obtained direct and unadulterated.

The ripe olive contains just what an ordinary vegetarian—especially fruit—diet lacks. In being a wholesome source of fat they materially add to the value of other vegetarian dishes. Nuts also supply oils in a healthful form. Those oils are serviceable in nervous disorders, rheumatism, diabetes, and other diseases.