# The Cry of Nature

an early book on animal rights and vegetarianism.
Pub$^d$ June 22$^d$. 1791 by J. Johnson S$^t$. Paul's Church Yard.
"The butchers knife hath laid low the delight of a fond "dam, & the darling of nature is now stretched in gore "upon the ground." Vide. Cry of Nature.
THE CRY OF NATURE; OR, AN APPEAL TO MERCY AND TO JUSTICE, ON BEHALF OF THE PERSECUTED ANIMALS.
BY JOHN OSWALD, MEMBER OF THE CLUB DES JACOBINES,
LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, No 72, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD, 1791.
ADVERTISEMENT.
FATIGUED with answering the enquiries, and replying to the objections of his friends, with respect to the singularity of his mode of life, the Author of this performance conceived that he might consult his ease by making, once for all, a public apology for his opinions. Those who despise the weakness of his arguments will nevertheless learn to admit the innocence of his tenets, and suffer him to pursue, without molestation, a system of life that is more the result of sentiment than of reason, in a man who imagines that the human race were not made to live scientifically, but according to nature.
The Author is very far from entertaining a presumption that his slender labours (crude and imperfect as they are now hurried to the press) will ever operate an effect on the public mind—​and yet, when he considers the natural bias of the human heart to the side of mercy, and observes on all hands the barbarous governments of Europe giving way to a better system of things, he is inclined to hope that the day is beginning to approach when the growing sentiment of peace and good-will towards men will also embrace, in a wide circle of benevolence, the lower orders of life.
At all events, the pleasing persuasion that his work may have contributed to mitigate the ferocities of prejudice, and to diminish in some degree the great mass of misery which oppresses the animal world, will in the hour of distress convey to the Author's heart a consolation which the tooth of calumny will not be able to impoison.
THE
CRY OF NATURE, &c.
DID we rightly understand the principles, and the true scope of Hindoo religion and legislation, which are established on the same basis, we should find that, to the gratitude and admiration of the human race, few legislators can exhibit so just a claim as the lawgiver of Hindostan. Of this ​we shall soon become sensible, if we compare him, not with those bold pretenders to inspiration, better known by the mischiefs which they have brought upon the human race, than by the wisdom of their laws; and whose names ought to found as odious in our ears as their dreary dogmas have been pernicious to the world—but with those genuine legislators who have adopted, as the basis of legislation, the dictates of philosophy and good sense.
​But there is one article which distinguishes, from all others, the doctrine of Burmah, and which raises, above all the religions on the face of the earth, the sacred system of Hindostan. Satisfied with extending to man alone the moral scheme, the best and mildest of other modes of worship, to the cruelty and caprice of the human race, every other species of animal have unfeelingly abandoned. Sovereign despot of the world, lord of the life and death of every creature,—man, with the saves of his ​tyranny, disclaims the ties of kindred. Howe'er attuned to the feelings of the human heart, their affections are the mere result of mechanic impulse ‬howe'er they may verge on human wisdom, their actions have only the semblance of sagacity: enlightened by the ray of reason, man is immensely removed from animals who have only instinct for their guide, and born to immortality, he scorns, with the brutes that perish, a social bond to acknowledge (1). Such are the unfeeling dogmas, which, ​early instilled into the mind, induce a callous insensibility, foreign to the native texture of the heart; such the cruel speculations which prepare us for the practice of that remorseless tyranny, and which palliate the foul oppression that, over inferior but fellow-creatures, we delight to exercise.
Far other are the sentiments of the merciful Hindoo. Diffusing over every order of life his affections, he beholds, in every creature, a kinsman: he rejoices in the ​welfare of every animal, and compassionates his pains; for he knows, and is convinced, that of all creatures the essence is the same, and that one eternal first cause is the father of us all (2). Hence more solicitous to save than the cruel vanity and exquisite voraciousness of other nations are ingenious to discover in the bulk, or taste, or beauty of every creature, a cause of death, an incentive to murder, the merciful mythology of Hindostan hath consecrated, by the metamorphosis of the Deity, every ​species of animal. A Christnah, a Lechemi, a Madu assuming, in the course of their eternal metempsychosis, the form of a cow, a lizard, or a monkey, sanctify and render inviolate the persons of those animals; and thus, with the sentiments of pity, concur the prejudices of religion, to protect the mute creation from those in juries which the powerful are but too prone to inflict upon the weak.
​When they converse, however, with those of a different religion, the Hindoos justify by arguments, independent of mythology, their humane conduct towards the inferior orders of animals. The dumb creatures, say they, were sent by God into the world, to exercise our charity; and, by calling forth our affections, to contribute to our happiness. We consider them as mute brethren, whose wants it becomes us to interpret, whose defects it is our duty to supply. The benevolence ​which on them we bestow, is amply repaid by the benefits which they bring; and the pleasing return for our kindness is, that endearing gratitude which renders the care of providing for them rather a pleasing occupation than a painful task.
From our tables turns with abhorrence the tender-hearted Hindoo. To him our feasts are the nefarious repasts of Polyphemus; while we contemplate, with surprize, his absurd clemency, and ​regard his superstitious mercy as an object of merriment and contempt. And yet in spite of that insensibility with which the practice of oppression, and the habits of speculative cruelty, have incased our feelings, still are we affected by the sufferings of other animals; and from their distress are drawn the finest images of sorrow. Would the poet paint the deep despair of the maid, from whose side the ruthless hand of death hath snatched sudden the lord of her affections, the love of ​her virgin heart; what ſimile more apt to excite the ſympathetic tear, than the turtle-dove forlorn, who mourns, with never-ceaſing wail, her murdered mate? Who can refuſe a ſigh to the ſadly-pleaſing ſtrains of Philomela?
But here the ſons of ſcience ſport with the ſentiments of mercy; and why, with a malicious grin, demands the modern ſophiſt, why then is man furniſhed with the canine, or dog-teeth, except that nature meant him carnivorous?—Fallacious argument! Is the fitneſs of an action to be ​determined purely by the phyſical capacity of the agent? Becauſe nature, kindly provident, has be ſtowed upon us a ſuperabundance of animal vigour, does it follow that we ought to abuſe, by habitual exertions, an exceſs of force, evidently granted to guard our exiſtence on occaſions of dirediſtreſs? In caſes of extreme famine we deſtroy and devour each other; but from thence will any one pretend to prove, that man was made to feed upon his fellow men?
​Moſt unfortunately too for this canine argument of thoſe advocates of murder, it happens, that the monkey, and eſpecially the man monkey, who ſubſiſts ſolely on fruit, is furniſhed with teeth as canine, as keenly pointed, as thoſe of man (3).
Having thus briefly refuted an objection, which modern wiſdom has deemed inſuperable, I proceed barely to point out a few reaſons, which ſeem to indicate, that man was intended by nature, or, in ​other words, by the diſpoſition of things, and the phyſical fitneſs of his conſtitution, to live entirely on the produce of the earth.
In the firſt place, growing ſpontaneous in every clime, the fruits of the earth are eaſily attained, while animal food is a luxury, which the major part of mankind cannot reach. The peaſantry of Turkey, France, Spain, Germany, and even of England, that moſt carnivorous of all countries, can ſeldom afford to eat fleſh. The ​barbarous tribes of North-America, who ſubſiſt almoſt entirely by hunting, can ſcarce find, in a vaſt extent of country, a ſcanty ſubſiſtance for a handful of inhabitants.
The practice of agriculture ſoftens the human heart, and promotes the love of peace, of juſtice, and of nature.
The exerciſes of hunting, on the contrary, irritate the baneful paſſions of the ſoul; her vagabond votaries delight in blood, in rapine, ​and devaſtation. From the wandering tribes of Tartars, the demons of maſſacre and havoc have ſelected their Tamerlanes and their Attilas, and have poured forth their ſwarms of barbarians to deſolate the earth.
Animal food overpowers the faculties of the ſtomach, clogs the functions of the ſoul, and renders the mind material and groſs. In the difficult, the unnatural taſk of converting into living juice the cadaverous oppreſſion, a great deal ​of time is consumed, a great deal of danger is incurred (4). Far other are the pure repasts of rural Pan, far other the kindly nouriture which the living herbs afford:
To this primitive diet Health invites her votaries. From the produce of the field her various banquet is composed: hence she dispenses health of body, hilarity of mind, and joins to animal vivacity the exalted taste of intellectual life. Nor is Pleasure, handmaid of Health, a stranger to the feast. Thither the bland Divinity ​conducts the captivated ſenſes; and by their predilection for the pure repaſt, the deep-implanted purpoſe of nature is declared.
By ſweet but irreſiſtible violence, vegetation allures our every ſenſe, and plays upon the ſenſorium with a ſort of blandiſhment , which at once flatters and ſatisfies the ſoul. To the eye, ſeems aught more beauteous than this green carpet of nature, infinitely diverſified as it is by pleaſing interchange of lovely tints? What ​more grateful to the ſmell, more ſtimulous of appetite, than this collected fragrance that flows from a world of various perfumes? Can art, can the moſt exquiſite art equal the native flavours of Pomona; or worthy to vie with the ſpontaneous nectar of nature, are thoſe ſordid ſauces of multiplex materials, which the miniſters of luxury compoſe to irritate the palate and to poiſon the conſtitution?
​And innocently mayeſt thou indulge the deſires which Nature ſo potently provokes; for ſee! the trees are overcharged with fruit; the bending branches ſeem to ſupplicate for relief; the mature orange, the ripe apple, the mellow peach invoke thee, as it were, to ſave them from falling to the ground, from dropping into corruption. They will ſmile in thy hand; and, blooming as the roſy witchcraft of thy bride, they will ſue thee to preſs them to thy lips; in thy mouth they will melt not ​inferior to the famed ambroſia of the gods.
But of animals far other is the fare: for, alas! when they from the tree of life are pluck'd, ſudden ſhrink to the chilly hand of death the withered bloſſoms of their beauty; quenched in his cold cold graſp expires the lamp of their lovelineſs; and, ſtruck by the livid blaſt of putrefaction loathed, their every comely limb in ghaſtly horror is involved. And ſhall we leave the living herbs to ſeek, in ​the den of death, an obſcene aliment?—Inſenſible to the blooming beauties of Pomona, unallured by the fragrant fume that exhales from her groves of golden fruits, undetained by the nectar of nature, by the ambroſia of innocence undetained, ſhall the voracious vultures of our impure appetite ſpeed acroſs the lovely ſcenes of rural Pan, and alight in the loathſome link of putrefaction to devour the funeral of other creatures, to load, with cadaverous rottenneſs, a wretched ſtomach?
​And is not the human race itſelf highly intereſted to prevent the habit of ſpilling blood? For will the man, habituated to havock, be nice to diſtinguiſh the vital tide of a quadruped, from that which flows from a creature with two legs? Are the dying ſtruggles of a lambkin leſs affecting than the agonies of any animal whatever? Or will the ruffian, who beholds, unmoved, the ſupplicating looks of innocence itſelf, and, reckleſs of the calf's infantine cries, plunges, pitileſs, in her ​quivering ſide, the murdering ſteel; will he turn, I ſay, with horror from human aſſaſſination?
​From the practice of ſlaughtering an innocent animal, to the murder of man himfelf, the ſteps are neither many nor remote. This our forefathers perfectly underſtood, who ordained that, in a cauſe of blood, no butcher, nor furgeon, ſhould be permitted to ſit in jury.
Animals, whom we have once learnt to deſtroy, without remorſe, we are eaſily brought, without ſcruple, to devour. The corpſe ​of a man differs in nothing from the corpse of any other animal and he who finds the last palatable may, without much difficulty, accustom his stomach to the first. To cannibalism carnivorous nations have not unseldom been addicted (5). The antient Germans sometimes rioted in human repasts; and, on the bodies of their enemies, feed, with infernal satisfaction, the native tribes of America.
​But from the texture of the very human heart ariſes the ſtrongeſt argument in behalf of the perſecuted creatures. Within us there exiſts a rooted repugnance to the ſpilling of blood; a repugnance which yields only to cuſtom, and which even the moſt inveterate cuſtom can never entirely overcome. Hence the ungracious taſk of ſhedding the tide of life for the gluttony of our table, has, in every country, been committed to the loweſt claſs of men; and their profeſſion is, in every ​country, an object of abhorrence. On the carcaſe we feed, without remorſe, becauſe the dying ſtruggles of the butchered creature are ſecluded from our ſight; becauſe his cries pierce not our ear; becauſe his agonizing ſhrieks ſink not into our ſoul: but were we forced, with our own hands, to aſſaſſinate the animals whom we devour, who is there amongſt us that would not throw down, with deteſtation, the knife; and, rather than embrue his hands in the murder of the lamb, conſent, for ​ever, to forego the favorite repaſt? What then ſhall we ſay? Vainly planted in our breaſt, is this abhorrence of cruelty, this ſympathetic affection for every animal? Or, to the purpoſe of nature, do the feelings of the heart point more unerringly than all the elaborate ſubtilty of a ſet of men, who, at the ſhrine of ſcience, have ſacrificed the deareft ſentiments of humanity?
Ye ſons of modern ſcience, who court not wiſdom in her walks of ​ſilent meditation in the grove, who behold her not in the living love lineſs of her works, but expect to meet her in the midſt of obſcenity and corruption; ye who dig for knowledge in the depth of the dunghill, and who hope to diſcover wiſdom enthroned amid the fragments of mortality, and the ahhorrence of the ſenſes; ye that with ruffian violence interrogate trembling nature, who plunge into her maternal boſom the butcher knife, and, in queſt of your nefarious ſcience, the fibres of ​agonizing animals, delight to ſcrutinize; ye dare alſo to violate the human form auguſt; and, holding up the entrails of man, ye exclaim; behold the bowels of a carnivorous animal (6)!—Barbarians! to theſe very bowels I appeal againſt your cruel dogmas; to theſe bowels, fraught with mercy, and entwined with compaſſion; to theſe bowels which nature hath ſanctified to the ſentiments of pity and of gratitude; to the yearnings of kindred, to the melting tenderneſs of love!
​Had nature intended man an animal of prey, would ſhe in his breaſt have implanted an inſtinct ſo adverſe to her purpoſe? Could ſhe mean that the human race ſhould eat their food with compunction and regret; that every morfel ſhould be purchaſed with a pang, and every meal of man impoiſoned with remorſe? Would Nature, with the milk of kindneſs, have filled a bofom which unfeeling ferocity ſhould inflame? Would ſhe not rather, in order to enable him to brave the piercing cries of ​anguiſh, have wrapt, in ribs of braſs, his ruthleſs heart; and, with iron entrails, have armed him to grind, without remorſe, the palpitating limbs of agonizing life? But has Nature wing'd, with fleetneſs, the feet of man, to over take the flying prey? and where are his fangs to tear aſunder the creatures deſtined for his food? Glares in his eye-ball the luſt of carnage? Does he ſcent afar the footſteps of his victim? Does his foul pant for the feaſt of blood? Is the boſom of man ​the rugged abode of bloody thoughts;‫ ‬and from their den of death ruth forth, at ſight of other animals, his rapacious deſires to ſlay, to mangle, to devour?
But come, ye men of ſcientific ſubtilty, approach and examine with attention this dead body. It was late a playful fawn, which, ſkipping and bounding on the boſom of parent earth, awoke, in the ſoul of the feeling obſerver, a thouſand tender emotions. But the butcher's knife hath laid low the ​delight of a fond dam, and the darling of nature is now ſtretched in gore upon the ground. Approach, I ſay, ye men of ſcientific ſubtilty, and tell me, tell me, does this ghaſtly ſpectacle whet your appetite? Delights your eyes the ſight of blood? Is the ſteam of gore grateful to your noſtrils, or pleaſing to the touch, the icy ribs of death? But why turn ye with abhorrence? Do you then yield to the combined evidence of your ſenſes, to the teſtimony of conſcience and common ſenſe; or ​with a ſpecies of rhetoric, pitiful as it is perverſe, will you ſtill perſiſt in your endeavour to perſuade us, that to murder an innocent animal, is not cruel nor unjuſt; and that to feed upon a corpſe, is neither filthy nor unfit?
O that man would interrogate his own heart! O that he would liſten to the voice of nature! For powerfully ſhe ſtirs within us; and, from the very bottom of the human heart, with moving voice the pleads. Why, ſhe cries, ​oh! why ſhouldſt thou dip thy hand in the blood of thy fellow creatures without cauſe? Have I not amply, not only for the wants, but even for the pleaſures of the human race, provided? Prodigal of bleſſings, pour I not forth for man an abundant banquet; a banquet, in which the ſalubrious and ſavoury, the nouriſhing and palatable, are blended in proportions infinitely various? And, while laviſh of my gifts, thy lap I load with the produce of the ſeaſons as they paſs; while to thy ​lips I preſs the purple juice of joy, while thou rioteſt, in fine, in exceſs of enjoyment; doſt thou ſtill thirſt, inſatiate wretch! for the blood of this innocent little lamb, whoſe ſole food is the graſs on which he treads; his only beverage the brook that trickles muddy from his feet? Alas! let my tears—alas! for a poor innocent that hath done thee no harm, which, indeed, is incapable of harm, let the tears of nature plead! Spare, ſpare, I beſeech thee by every tender idea ‬ſpare my maternal boſom the ​unutterable anguiſh which there the cries of agonizing innocence excite, whether the creature that ſuffers be a lambkin or a man. See the little victim how he wantons unconſcious of coming fate; unſuſpicious of harm, the up-lifted ſteel he views, innocent and engaging as the babe, that preſſes, playful, the boſom of her, in whom thy bliſs is complete. Why ſhouldſt thou kill him in the novelty of life; why raviſh him from the ſweet aſpect of the fun, while yet, with freſh delight, he admires ​the blooming face of things; while , to the pipe of the ſhepherd , leaps with joy his light heart; and, unblunted by enjoyment, his virgin ſenſes ſweetly vibrate to the bland touch of juvenile deſire! And why, oh! why ſhouldſt thou kill him in the novelty of life! Alas! ſhe will ſeek him in vain; alas, his afflicted dam will ſeek him through all his wonted haunts! Her moans will move to compaſſion the echoing dell: her cries will melt the very rocks! But who, on the obduracy of the human heart, ​ſhall pour, O, nature, thy melting voice? The ſecret ſources of the ſoul, what maſter hand ſhall unlock and bid the heart again to flow through long-forgotten channels of compaſſions!
Alas! the very attempt could not fail to encounter the ridicule of the mob, the obloquy of the ſenſual, and the ſneers of the unfeeling. The advocate of mercy would incur the reproach of miſanthropy, and be traduced as a wild unſocial animal, who had formed a nefarious deſign to curtail ​the comforts of human life (7).—Good God! and is compaſſion then ſo great a crime? Is it ſo heinous an offence againſt ſociety, to reſpect in other animals that principle of life which they have received, no leſs than man himſelf, at the hand of Nature? O, mother of every living thing! O, thou eternal fountain of beneficence; ſhall I then be perſecuted as a monſter, for having liſtened to thy ſacred voice? to that voice of mercy which ſpeaks from the bottom of my heart; while other men, with impunity, torment and ​maſſacre the unoffending animals, while they fill the air with the cries of innocence, and deluge thy maternal boſom with the blood of the moſt amiable of thy creatures!
And yet thoſe channels of ſympathy for inferior animals, a long, a very long diſuſe has not been able, altogether, to choak up. Even now, notwithſtanding the narrow, joyleſs, and hard-hearted tendency of the prevailing ſuperſtitions; even now, we diſcover, in every corner of the globe, ſome good-natured prejudice in ​behalf of the perſecuted creatures: we perceive, in every country, certain privileged animals, whom even the ruthleſs jaws of gluttony dare not to invade. For to paſs over unnoticed the vaſt empires of India, Thibet, and China, where the lower orders of life are conſidered as relative parts of ſociety, and are protected by the laws and religion of the natives, the Tartars abſtain from ſeveral kinds of animals: the Turks are charitable to the very dog, whom they abominate; and even the Engliſh peaſant pays towards the Robin-​red-breaſt an inviolate reſpect to the rights of hoſpitality:
Long after the perverſe practice of devouring thebfleſh of animals had grown into inveterate habit among the people, there exiſted ​ſtill, in almoſt every country, and of every religion, and of every ſect of philoſophy, a wiſer, a purer, and more holy claſs of men, who preſerved, by their inſtitutions, by their precepts, and their example, the memory of primitive innocence and ſimplicity. The Pythagoreans abhorred the ſlaughter of animals: Epicurus, and the worthieſt part of his diſciples, bounded their delights with the produce of their garden; and of the primitive Chriſtians, ſeveral ſects abominated the feaſt of blood, and were ſatisfied with the ​food which nature, unviolated, brings forth for our ſupport (8).
But feeble amongſt nations, barbarous or civilized, this principle of ſympathy and compaſſion operates in the breaſt of the ſavage with a force almoſt incredible. No leſs compaſſionate to their cattle than the Hindoos, whom, in moſt of their opinions and cuſtoms, they reſembled, were the Aborigenes of the Canary or Happy Iſlands (happy, indeed, if innocence and happineſs be the fame!) If their ​parched fields demanded the refreſhing dew of heaven; or, if deluged with rain, they required the drying ardour of the ſun, the ſimple Guanchos conducted their cattle to a place appointed, and ſevering the young ones from their dams, they raiſed a general bleating in the flock, whoſe cries, they believed, had power to move the almighty good to hear their ſupplication, and to grant their requeſt (9). And who, with a beneficent being to intercede, ſo fit as thoſe innocent animals? To ​a God of love, how much more acceptable the prayers of the humane Guanchos, mingled with the plaintive cries of their guileless mediators; how much more moving, I say, their innocent supplication, than the ruffian petitions of those execrable Arabs, who, imploring mercy, perpetrated murder, and embrued in the blood of agonizing innocence, their hands holding up, dared to beseech thy compassion, thou common father of all that breathe the breath of life!
​The vestiges of that amiable sympathy which, even in this degenerate age are still visible,strongly indicate the cordial harmony which, in the age of innocence, subfifted between man and the lower orders of life.
Man, in a state of nature, is not, apparently, much superior to other animals. His organisation is, no doubt, extremely happy; but then the dexterity of his figure is counterpoised by great advantages in other creatures. Inferior to the ​bull in force; and in fleetneſs to the hound; the os ſublime, or front erect, a feature which he bears in common with the monkey, could ſcarcely have inſpired him with thoſe haughty and magnificent ideas, which the pride of human refinement thence, endeavours to deduce (10). Expoſed, like his fellow-creatures, to the injuries of the air; urged to action by the ſame phyſical neceffities; ſuſceptible of the ſame impreſſions; actuated by the fame paffions; and, equally ſubject to the pains of ​disease, and to the pangs of dissolution, the simple savage never dreamt that his nature was so much more noble, or that he drew his origin from a purer source, or more remote than the animals in whom he saw a resemblance so compleat. Nor were the simple sounds, by which he expressed the singleness of his heart, at all fitted to flatter him into that fond sense of superiority over the creatures, whom the fastidious insolence of cultivated ages absurdly styles mute. I say, absurdly styles ​mute; for with what propriety can that name be applied, for example, to the little ſyrens of the grove, to whom nature has granted the ſtrains of raviſhment, the ſoul of ſong? thoſe charming warblers who pour forth, with a moving melody which human ingenuity vies with in vain, their loves, their anxiety, their woes. In the ardour and delicacy of his amorous expreſſions, can the moſt impaſſioned, the moſt reſpectful lover the gloſſy kind ſurpaſs, as deſcribed ​by the moſt beautiful of all our poets.
And, indeed, has not nature given, to almoſt every creature, the ſame ſpontaneous ſigns of the various affections? Admire we not in other animals whatever is moſt eloquent in man, the tremor of deſire, the tear of diſtreſs (11), the piercing cry of anguiſh, the pity-pleading look, expreſſions that ſpeak the ſoul with a feeling ​which words are feeble to convey (12)?
From likeneſs mutual love proceeded; and mutual love, in the bonds of ſociety with man, the milder and more congenial animals united. Amply repaid by the fleecy warmth of the lamb, by the rich, the falubrious libations of the cow, was that protection which the foſtering care of the human race afforded to the cattle of the field. Sometimes too, a tie ſtill more tender, cemented the friendſhip ​between man and other animals. Infants, in the earlier ages of the world, to the teats of the tenants of the field were not unſeldom ſubmitted. Towards the goat that gave him ſuck, the fond boy, the throb of filial gratitude has felt; and, for the children of men, have yearned, with tenderneſs maternal, the bowels of the ewe (13). Educated together, they were endeared to each other by mutual benefits; a fond, a lively friendſhip, was the conſequence of their union (14). Never by primæval ​man, were violated the rights of hoſpitality; never, in his innocent boſom, aroſe the murderous meditation; never, againſt the life of his gueſts, his friends, his benefactors, did he the butcher-axe uplift. Sufficient were the fruits of the earth for his ſubſiſtence; and, ſatisfied with the milk of her maternal boſom, he ſought not, like a perverſe child, to ſpill the blood of nature.
But not to the animal world alone were the affections of man ​confined: for whether the glowing vault of heaven he ſurveyed, or his eyes repoſed on the greeny freſhneſs of the lawn; whether to the tinkling murmur of the brook he liſtened, or in pleaſing melancholy melted amid the gloom of the grove, joy, rapture , veneration filled his guileleſs breaſt: his affections flowed on every thing around him; his ſoul around every tree or ſhrub entwined, whether they afforded him ſubſiſtence or ſhade (15): and wherever his eyes wandered, wondering he beheld ​his gods, for his benefactors ſmiled on every ſide, and gratitude guſhed upon his boſom whatever object met his view (16).
But what were the beauties of the landſcape to the living roſes that bloomed on the cheeks of his love! And what were the vernal delights compared to the ſoft thrill of tranſport which the kind glance ​of his beloved excited in his ſoul! From that joyous commotion of his heart aroſe the Queen of young deſire; on the fond fluctuation of his boſom glided the new-born Venus, deckt in all her glowing potency of charms. And thou too, O Cupid, O Cupid, or if Rama-deva more delight thine ear; art thou not alſo with all thy graces a glad emanation of primal bliſs?—But as yet the Demon of Avarice had not poiſoned the ſource of joy; thy darts, O Love, were not barbed with deſpair; but ​thy arrows were the thrill of rapture, thy only pain the bliſsful anguiſh of enjoyment!
Such were the feaſts of primæval innocence; ſuch the felicity of the golden age. But long ſince, alas! are thoſe happy days elapſed. That they ever did exiſt is a doubt with the depravity of the preſent day; and ſo unlike our actual ſtate of miſery, the ſtory of primal bliſs is numbered with the dreams of viſionary bards.
​But that ſuch a ſtate did exiſt, the concording voice of various tradition offers a convincing proof; and the luſt of knowledge is the fatal cauſe, to which the indigenous tale, of every country, attributes the loſs of paradiſe and the fall of man (18). 'Twas this dire curioſity that prompted Pandora to pry into the fatal box: this was the ſubtle ſerpent which prevailed on Eve to taſte the tree of knowledge, and hence, from the fields of innocence, were expelled the human race, in conſequence ​of eating the forbidden fruit; or, in other words, milled by the ignis fatuus of ſcience, man forſook the ſylvan gods, and abandoned the unfollicitous, innocent, and noble ſimplicity of the ſavage, to embrace the anxious, operoſe, mean, miſerable, and ludicrous life of man civilized (19). Hence the eſtabliſhment of towns and cities, thoſe impure ſources of miſery and vice; hence aroſe priſons, palaces, pyramids, and all thoſe other amazing monuments of human ſlavery; hence the ​inequality of ranks, the waſteful wallow of wealth, and the meagreneſs of want, the abject front of poverty, the inſolence of power; hence the cruel ſuperſtitions which animate, to mutual maſſacre, the human race; and hence, impelled by perverſe ambition and inſatiate thirſt of gain, we break through all the barriers of nature, and court, in every corner of the globe, ſupremacy of guilt.
The arts, as thoſe pernicious inventions were entitled, in one ​common ruin, involved with man the inferior orders of animals. But to this atrocious tyranny which over kindred ſouls we now exerciſe without feeling or remorſe, the human race were conducted by gradual abuſe. For however ſevere the ſervices might be which man, newly enlightened, required from his former friends, ſtill he reſpected their life, and, ſatisfied with their labour, abhorred to ſhed their blood (20).
​The laſt tie of ſympathy was ſevered by ſuperſtition. The general harmony of this ſtupendous whole is at times diſturbed by partial diſorder; the beautiful ſyſtem of things which manifeſts the beneficence of nature, is ſometimes marred by fearful accidents that are apt on the mind of man to impreſs an idea of ſupernatural malevolence. Aghaſt, trembling before the angry Gods, he made haſte his ſoul to redeem by the blood of other creatures, and the ſanguinary cravings of immortal ​appetite were fated by the ſmoke of butchered ſheep, and the ſteam of burnt offerings (21). The horror of thoſe infernal rites in ſenſibly wore off; frequent oblations allured the curious cupidity of man, and the human race were imperceptibly ſeduced to ſhare the ſanguinary feaſt, which ſuperſtition had ſpread for the principle of ill. Bolder than the reſt, and more habituated to the fight of blood, the prieſt, who was the butcher of the victims, which he offered to ſupernatural ​malevolence, dared ſolemnly in the name, and by the authority of the Gods whom he ſerved, to affirm that heaven to man had granted every animal for food (22). So flattering to the perverſe luſt of his hearers, the impious lie was greedily received, and ſwallowed with unſcrupulous credulity. Still, however, with diffidence was the deed perpetrated: not without many auguſt ceremonies was the murder executed by the miniſters of the Gods; the Deities were ſolemnly invoked to ſanctify by ​their preſence a deed which their example had provoked; and the victim was led to ſlaughter like a diſtinguiſhed criminal of ſtate, whoſe life is ſacrificed not ſo much to atone to the violated laws of ſociety, as to gratify the caprice, or to promote the perverſe ambition of a tyrant. Yet even the venerable veil of religion, which covers a multitude of ſins, could hardly hide the horror of the act. By the pains that were taken to trick the animal into a ſeeming ​conſent to his deſtruction, the injuſtice of the deed was clearly acknowledged; nay, it was even neceſſary that he ſhould offer himſelf as it were a voluntary victim, that he ſhould advance without reluctance to the altar, that he ſhould ſubmit his throat to the knife, and expire without a ſtruggle (23).
Even long after habitual cruelty had almoſt eraſed from the mind of man every mark of affection for the inferior ranks of his ​fellow-creatures, a certain reſpect was ſtill paid to the principle of life, and the crime of murdered innocence was in ſome degree atoned by the decent regard that was paid to the mode of their deſtruction.
​Such was the decency with which at firſt the devoted victims were put to death.
But when man became perfectly civilized, thoſe exterior ſymbols of ſentiments, with which he was now but feebly if at all impreſſed, were alſo laid aſide. Formerly ſacrificed with ſome decorum to the plea of neceſſity, the animals were now with unceremonious brutality deſtroyed, to gratify the unfeeling pride or wanton cruelty of men. Broad barefaced butchery ​occupied every walk of life; every element was ranſacked for victims; the moſt remote corners of the globe were raviſhed of their in habitants, whether by the faſtidious gluttony of man their fleſh was held grateful to the palate, whether their blood could impurple the pall of his pride, or their ſpoils could add a feather to the wings of his vanity: and while nature, while agonizing nature is tortured by his ambition, while to ſupply the demands of his perverſe appetite the bleeds at every ​pore, this imperial animal exclaims; ye ſervile creatures, why do ye lament? why vainly try by cries akin to the voice of human woe my compaſſion to excite? Created ſolely for my uſe, ſubmit without a murmur to the decrees of heaven, and to the mandates of me; of me the heaven-deputed deſpot of every creature that walks, or creeps, or ſwims, or flies in air, on earth, or in the waters which encompaſs the earth. Thus the fate of the animal world has followed the progreſs of man from ​his ſylvan ſtate to that of civilization, till the gradual improvements of art, on this glorious pinnacle of independence, have at length placed him free from every tender link, free from every lovely prejudice of nature, and an enemy to life and happineſs through all their various forms of exiſtence.
But, famed for wiſdom perhaps at a period more remote than what we claim as the æra of our creation, Hindoſtan never affected thoſe pernicious arts, on which ​we wiſh to eſtabliſh a proud pretence to ſuperior intelligence. Born at an earlier age of the world than other legiſlators can boaſt, Burmah, or whoever was the lawgiver of India (24), ſeems to have fixed by his precepts the lovely prejudices of nature, and to have prevented by his ſalutary inſtitutions the baneful effects of ſubſequent refinement. Notwithſtanding the frequent invaſions of barbarians, European or Aſiatic, and the conſequent influx of various rites, the religion of Burmah, ​congenial as it is to the gentle influence of the clime, and to the better feelings of the heart, bids fair to ſurvive thoſe foreign ſchemes of ſuperſtition, that tremble on the tranſient efferveſcence of that baleful enthuſiaſm to which they owe their birth. Diſguſted with continual ſcenes of ſlaughter and deſolation, pierced by the inceffant ſhrieks of ſuffering innocence, and ſhocked by the ſhouts of perſecuting brutality, the humane mind averts abhorrent, from the view, and turning her ​eyes to Hindostan, dwells with heart-felt consolation on the happy spot, where mercy protects with her right hand the streams of life, and every animal is allowed to enjoy in peace the portion of bliss which nature prepared it to receive.
May the benevolent system spread to every corner of the ​globe; may we learn to recognize and to respect in other animals the feelings which vibrate in our selves; may we be led to perceive that those cruel repasts are not more injurious to the creatures whom we devour than they are hostile to our health, which delights in innocent simplicity, and destructive of our happiness, which is wounded by every act of violence, while it feeds as it were on the prospect of well being, and is raised to the highest summit of enjoyment by the sympathetic touch of social satisfaction.
notes and illustrations.
(1.) Hic vestros sensus corporeos videlicet non multum probo. Videmus enim et vocibus sentimus, cum dolore mori animantia, quod quidem homo contemnit in bestia, cum qua scilicet rationalem animam non habente, nulla legis societate copulatur. St. Aug. de moribus Manichæorum.
St. Augustine in his treatise de quantitate animæ, speaking of the faculties of brutes, to whom he will by no means allow the ​ſmalleſt particle of reaſon, is nevertheleſs extremely puzzled what to do with that ſurprizing inſtance of memory in the dog of Ulyſſes.—He reſolves it at length, however, not into ſenſe, but ſenſation.—"Quid autem hoc putas eſſe, niſi vim quandam ſentiendi non ſciendi."
I will allow that man poſſeſſes the faculty of reaſon in a degree ſuperior to that of other animals, that is to ſay, generally, but not in every individual of the ſpecies—for a ſagacious elephant is wiſer than one half of the human race.
"We run, though not ſo ſwift as the ſtag; we ſee, though not ſo acutely as the hawk; and though we are neither as to ​strength or size equal to the elephant, yet nature has not entirely deprived us of strength and magnitude. Thus in the same manner, though other animals are inferior in intellect to man, yet we ought not to say that they are entirely destitute of reason, but rather that their intellect is duller and more tardy than ours."—Porphyr. de Abstin. Lib. 3.
"They say that the animals derive their sagacity from nature only.—And from whence then, says Porphyrius, do men derive their reason? From whence even does God himself derive his wisdom, but from nature?"
​Ay, say they, but the reason of brutes is stationary, they never improve, they never invent. This is not true. Individuals of the same species of animals differ in degree of sagacity in the same manner as individuals among the human race. Their sagacity depends also, like that of the human race, upon their situation. The otter, says Abbe Raynal, in Europe a stupid and solietary animal, has made in America a greater progress in the arts of civil society, than the native tribes of Indians.
Pliny, speaking of elephants, says, "Intellectus illis fermonis patrii, imperiorumque obedientia, officiorum quæ didicere memoria, amoris et gloriæ voluptas, imo vero (quæ etiam in homine rara) probitas, ​prudentia, æquitas, religio quoque fiderum, solisque ac lunæ veneratio."
"If some of the more sagacious brutes lived long enough, and sufficient pains were taken with them, who knows to what perfection they might be brought?"
"The horse in this country is not a political animal, but in the deserts of Tartary and Siberia he is political, for being there hunted by the Tartars, as hares and deer are in this country, they for self-defence form themselves into a kind of community, and take joint measures for saving themselves, which they commonly do by flight, and that they may not be surprized by the enemy, they set watches, and have ​commanders who direct and hasten their flight."—Monboddo on Language, vol. i. 231.
"Even the sheep, when wild, set watches in the night-time against their enemy the fox, who give notice of his approach, and when he attacks them they draw up in a body and defend themselves."—Ditto.
"The Siamese imagine that the elephants are perfectly rational; and when the King of Siam sent a present of elephants to the King of France, the Ambassadors took a solemn farewell of them.—Churchill's Travels.
​"Animals there are who are more forcibly actuated than man himself, with principles of justice, gratitude, and of all the virtues. The most impartial principles of equity are observed in the republic of the bees, of the ants. The dove observes the most rigid forbearance towards the females of his fellows, and if any one of them is guilty of adultery, he is persecuted by the others, and put to death. The gratitude of the dog is known to a proverb."—Porphyrius de Abstin.
"Ingratitudinem hominum, a quîs, pro summis beneficiis crudele exitium Darius pertulit, quamquam suopte ingenio horrendam et exsecrabilem, infigniore ad posteritatem infamia damnavit canis cujusdam ​mira fides, qui ab omnibus familiaribus derelicto ſolus adſuit, et quam in vivum præ ſe tulit benevolentiam, morienti quoque conſtanter præititit."—Vide Juſt. 11, 15, 8.
(2.) "The learned behold him alike in the reverend brahman perfected in knowledge; in the ox, and in the elephant; in the dog, and in him who eateth of the fleſh of dogs. Thoſe whoſe minds are fixed on this equality gain eternity even in this world; they put their truſt in Brahm, the eternal, becauſe he is every where alike, free from fault. The man whoſe mind is endued with this devotion, and looketh on all things alike, beholdeth the Supreme ſoul ​in all things, and all things in the Supreme ſoul.
With this grand principle of the Hindoo philoſophy, the moſt antient philoſophy of Greece and of Egypt entirely accords.
(Greek characters)
Orphic. Hym. 10 p. 200. Geſ.
Euphorion
(Greek characters)
See Golden Verſes of Pythagoras.
The Egyptians.
(Greek characters)
(3.) "The Ourang Outang, though they uſe ſticks, do not hunt, but live upon the fruits of the earth, as in the primitive ages all nations did."—Monboddo on Language.
(4.) "Animals, like men, are ſubject to diſeaſes.—Animal food muſt therefore always be dangerous."—Cheyne's Eſſay on Health, p. 20.—Other things being equal, the proper food appointed by nature for animals is eaſier digeſted, than the animals ​themſelves, thoſe animals that live on vegetables, than thoſe that live on animals.—Ibid. p. 24.—There is nothing more certain, than that the greater ſuperiority the concoctive powers have over the food, or the ſtronger the concoctive powers are in regard of the things to be concocted, the finer the chyle will be; the circulation the more free, and the ſpirits the more lightſome, that is, the better will the health be.—Ibid. p. 27.—It is ſurprizing to what a great age the eaſtern Chriſtians, who retired from the perſecutions into the deſarts of Egypt and Arabia, lived healthful on a very little food. St. Anthony lived to 105 years on mere bread and water, adding only a few herbs at laſt. James, the hermit, to 104. Arſenius, the tutor of the ​Emperor Arcadius, to 120; 65 in the world, and 55 in the deſart. St. Epiphanius to 115. St. Jerome to about 100. Simeon Stylites 109, and Romualdus 120.—Ibid. p . 30.—My worthy friend Mr. Webb is ſtill alive. He, by the quickneſs of the faculties of his mind, and the activity of the organs of his body, ſhews the great benefit of a low diet, living altogether on vegetable food and pure element. Henry Jenkin, fiſherman, lived 169 years; his diet was coarſe and ſour, as his hiſtorian informs us, that is plain and cooling. Parr died ſixteen years younger, or at the age of 152 years, nine months; his diet was old cheeſe, milk, coarſe bread, ſmall beer, and whey.—Ibid. p. 32.—All crammed poultry and fed cattle, and even vegetables ​forced by hot-beds, tend more to putrefaction, and conſequently are more unfit for human food than thoſe that are brought up in the natural manner.—Ibid. p. 73.—I have ſometimes indulged a conjecture, that animal food, and made or artificial liquors, in the original frame of our nature, and deſign of our creation, were not intended for human creatures. They ſeem to me neither to have theſe ſtrong and fit organs for digeſting them, (at leaſt ſuch as birds and beaſts of prey have, who live on fleſh) nor naturally to have thoſe voracious and brutiſh appetites that require animal food and ſtrong liquors to ſatisfy them; nor thoſe cruel and hard hearts, or thoſe diabolical paſſions which could eaſily ſuffer them to tear and deſtroy their fellow creatures, ​at leaſt not in the firſt and early ages before every man had corrupted his way; and God was forced to exterminate the whole race by an univerſal deluge, and was alſo obliged (that the globe of the earth might not, from the long lives of its inhabitants, become a hell and habitation for incarnate devils) to ſhorten their lives from 900 or 1000 to 70 years. He wiſely foreſaw that animal food and artificial liquors would naturally contribute towards this end, and indulged or permitted, the generation that was to plant the earth again after the flood, the uſe of theſe for food .—Ibid. p. 91 and 92.—There are ſome ſorts of food which may oppreſs and load the ſtomach, and alimentary duets in the firſt concoction, which may be very ſafe and benign in the ſubſequent ones. For ​inſtance, cheeſe, eggs, milk, meats, and vegetable food, though duly prepared, and juſtly proportioned in quantity, may chance to lie heavy on the ſtomach, or beget wind in the alimentary paſſages of ſome perſons (and yet drinking of water will always remedy this inconveniency:) But theſe neither having their parts ſtrongly united, nor abounding in ſharp urinous ſalts, when they become ſufficiently diluted with a watry menſtruum, or diſſolved into their component parts, and their parts being ſtill ſmaller than the ſmalleſt veſſels, and their union conſtantly leſs than the force of the concoctive powers, in perſons who have any remaining fund of life in them, will thereby yield a ſweet, thin, and eaſily circulating chyle, in the after concoctions ​come benign and salutary, and afford no materials for chronical distempers; and the wind thence generated, not being pointed and armed with such sharp salts as those of flesh-meats, or the corrosive juices of spiritous liquors, will be as innocent and safe as the element we breathe in, p. 120.
"Those children, says Rousseau, whose nurses live upon animal food, are more subject to worms and the cholic than those whose nurses feed upon vegetables. This says he; is by no means surprising, since animal substance in putrefaction swarms with vermin; which a vegetable substance does not. Milk, though elaborated in the body of an animal, is nevertheless a vegetable substance. Its analysis demonftrates ​this; it turns eaſily to acid, and far from ſhewing the leaſt appearance of volatile alkali, as animal ſubſtances do, it gives, like plants, the eſſence of neutral falt. Women eat bread and milk, and vegetables. The female of the cat and canine ſpecies do the ſame; even wolves browze upon the field. Here we have vegetable juices for their milk."
"If we conſider the quantity, every body knows that farinaceous ſubſtances make more blood than animal; they muſt therefore make more milk. Can it be that a vegetable diet being confeſſedly better for the infant, an animal regimen ſhould be better for the nurſe? There is a contradiction in that."
​"One proof, ſays Rouſſeau, (Emile, Tom. 1.) that a taſte for fleſh is not natural for man, is the indifference which children manifeſt for ſuch meats, and the preference which they give to vegetables, ſuch as fruits, &c.—It is alſo certain, ſays he, that great eaters of fleſh are in general more cruel and ferocious than other men; for inſtance the Engliſh barbarity—on the contrary the Banians, &c."
"In primis autem cavenda cruditas, quæ ex eſu carnium naſcitur, propterea quod non ſolum protinus gravant vehementer, verum etiam in poſterum noxiæ harum reliquiæ remanent. At optimum quidem fuerit ita conſueſacere corpus, ut nullum carnium eſuin deſideret. Nam terra plurima ​ſuppeditat quæ abunde ſatis ſint non ad alimoniam modo, verum etiam ad delicias ac voluptatem, quorum alia ſic exhibet, ut citra negotium protinus eis uti licet, alia rurſum ut cæteris admixta omnijugis ratio nibus ea conducent condiantque."—Plut. de tuenda valetudine.
"The wild girl who was caught in Champaigne, climbed trees like a ſquirrel, and leapt from one branch to another upon all four. She became, ſoon after ſhe was caught, incapable of thoſe exertions of agility; an alteration, which ſhe attributed to the groſs aliment they had given her, which, ſhe ſaid, had made her ſo much heavier than when the lived upon wild food."—See Monboddo on Language, vol. i. ​p. 242.—Diodorus mentions a people in that part of Æthiopia above Egypt, whom he calls (Greek characters) or wood-eaters, for they ſubſiſted entirely upon the woods, eating either the fruits of the trees, or when they could not get theſe, chewing the tender ſhoots and young branches, as we ſee cattle do in this country. This made them very nimble in climbing trees, &c."—See Monboddo.
"As the Arabs had their excellencies, ſo have they, like other nations, their defects and vices. Their own writers acknowledge that they have a natural diſpoſition to war, bloodſhed, cruelty, and rapine, being ſo much addicted to bear malice, that they ſcarce ever forget an old ​grudge: Such vindictive temper, some physicians say, is occasioned by their frequent feeding on camel's flesh—that creature being most malicious and tenacious of anger; which account suggests a good reason‬ for a distinction of meats."—Vide Poc. Spec. p . 85.
The principles of natural bodies, according to the chymists, are water, earth, oil, salt, spirit.—Arbuthnot describing the extreme tenuity or smallness of the lymphatic and capillary arteries, thence observes—"Hence one easily perceives the inconveniency of viscidity which obstructs, and acrimony that destroys the capillary vessels.—Arbuthnot on Alim. p. 39.—"All animals are made immediately or mediately ​of vegetables, that is, by feeding on vegetables, or on animals that are fed on vegetables, there being no proceſs in infinitum." Prop. 2.—Vegetables are proper enough to repair animals, as being near of the ſame ſpecific gravity with the animal juices, and as conſiſting of the ſame parts with animal ſubſtances, ſpirit, water, ſalt, oil, earth; all which are contained in the ſap they derive from the earth, which conſiſts of rain-water, air, putrified juices of plants and animals, and even minerals, for the aſhes of plants yield ſomething which the loadſtone attracts."—Arbuthnot, p. 51.—Hence Arbuthnot proceeds to analize the various parts of the vegetable world, beginning with the farinaceous ſeeds of culmiferous plants, as he terms the various ſorts ​of grain; on which he beſtows very deſerved encomiums; thence he paſſes to fruits of trees and ſhrubs, and from thence to the alimentary leaves, of which he ſays, "Of alimentary leaves, the olera, or pot herbs, afford an excellent nouriſhment; amongſt thoſe are the cole or cabbage kind, emolient, laxative, and reſolvent, alkaleſcent, and therefore proper in caſes of acidity. Red cabbage is reckoned a medicine in conſumptions and ſpittings of blood. Amongſt the pot herbs are ſome lacteſcent plants, as lettuce, endive, and dandelion, which contain a moſt wholeſome juice, reſolvent of the bile, anodyne, and cooling; extremely uſeful in all diſeaſes of the liver. Artichokes contain a rich nutritious ſtimulating juice. Of alimentary roots, ſome are pulpy ​and very nutritious, as turnips, carrots: theſe have a fattening quality, which they manifeſt in feeding of cattle."—Page 63 and 64.
"Animal ſubſtances differ from vegetables in two things. Firſt, In that being reduced to aſhes, they are perfectly inſipid; all animal ſalts being volatile, fly off with great heat. Secondly, In that there is no ſincere acid in any animal juice. From the two fore-mentioned differences of vegetable and animal ſubſtances, it follows, firſt, that all animal diet is alkaleſcent or anti-acid; ſecondly, that animal ſubſtance, containing no fixt ſalt, want the aſſiſtance of thoſe for digeſtion which preſerve them both within and without the body from ​putrefaction."—p. 77.—"Water is the chief ingredient in all the animal fluids and ſolids; for a dry bone, diſtilled, affords a great quantity of inſipid water; therefore water ſeems to be proper drink for every ſort of animal."—p. 79.
"The firſt ſort of alimentary ſubſtances are ſuch as are of ſo mild a nature, that they act with ſmall force upon the ſolids; ‬and as the action and reaction are equal, the ſmalleſt degree of force in the ſolids digeſt and aſſimilate them; of ſuch ſort is milk, &c."—p. 118.—Acid auſtere vegetables before-mentioned have this quality of condenſing the fluids, as well as ſtrengthening the ſolids.—p. 125.—"Animal ſubſtances are all alkaline; of vegetable ſubſtances ​ſome are acid, others are alkaleſcent."—p. 126.—"An animal with a ſtrong vital force of digeſtion will turn acids into animal ſubſtances, but if its food be entirely alkaleſcent, its juices will be more ſo.—No perſon is able to ſupport a diet of fleſh and water without acids, as ſalt, vinegar, and bread, without falling into a putrid fever."—182.—"A conſtant adherence to one diet may have bad effects on any conſtitution. Nature has provided a great variety of nouriſhment for human creatures and furniſhed us with appetites of deſire, and organs to digeſt them. (There is a moſt curious bill of fare in Sir Hans Sloane's Natural Hiſtory of Jamaica.")—p. 216.—"There are vegetables, acid, alkaline, cooling, hot, relaxing, aſtringent, acrid, and ​mild, &c. uſeful or hurtful according to the different conſtitutions to which they are applied. There may be a ſtronger broth made of vegetables than any gravy ſoup."—p. 219.—"I know more than one inſtance of inſanible paſſions being ſubdued by a vegetable diet."—p. 226.—"Plethoric conſtitutions are ſubject to fall into this alkaline ſtate of the fluids, which is more dangerous than that which proceeds from acidity."—p. 292.
But the late ingenious Dr. Elliot, in his elements of natural philoſophy, as connected with medicine, has given us, I think, a moſt inconteſtable proof, that animals are not the proper food of man. In ſpeaking of fermentation, he expreſſes himſelf as follows:
​"Vegetable and animal ſubſtances only are ſubject to this proceſs (fermentation.) There are ſeveral ſtages of it, all of which vegetable, but not animal ſubſtances may undergo."
"By fermentation the particles of the compound ſuffer a new arrangement, ſo that the properties of the ſubſtance become different from what they were before."
"If a vegetable juice of grapes for example be fermented, it will yield on diſtillation, inflammable ſpirit, which the muſt did not yield before fermentation. This is called the vinous fermentation."
​"If the ſame liquid be farther fermented it will yield vinegar, which could not be obtained from the liquid before, either in its original or vinous ſtate. This is, therefore, called the acetous fermentation."
"The third ſtate of fermentation is putrefaction, by which the ſubſtance is converted firſt into a mucilage and afterwards into calcareous earth; marine and other acids, and volatile alcali, which eſcaping with a portion of oily, mattery occaſions the diſagreeable ſmell ariſing from putrefying ſubſtances."
"Animal ſubſtances can only paſs through the latter ſtage (putrefaction), and therefore have probably already undergone the ​former, that is the vinous and acetous fermentations."
Now may we not from hence fairly conclude, that the vinous and acetous fermentation are the means by which the vegetable is perfected into the animal? Putrefaction, the abhorrence of animal nature, the only fermentation of which a corpſe is capable, ſeems to be the means that nature employs to reduce a dead body, or rather a body diſorganized, to a ſtate ſuſceptible of vegetation. Hence the circle ſeems to be—vegetation, animalization, putrefaction, and again vegetation. Hence the ſtomach has a double taſk to perform on a corpſe or putrefying ſubſtance, viz. to raiſe it to vegetation, and then to animalization. ​On vegetable ſubſtances the ſtomach has nothing to do, but to perfect the order of nature by bringing the vegetable to the next ſtage or animalization.
(5.) "I am perſuaded that all nations at one time or other have been cannibals, and that men, as ſoon as they became animals of prey, which I have ſaid they were not originally, fed upon thoſe of their own kind as well as upon other animals."—Monboddo on Language, vol. i. p. 228.
(6.) "It is an unqueſtionable fact, that all animals which have but one ſtomach and ſhort inteſtines, like men, dogs, wolves, lions, &c. are carnivorous."
​"The carnivorous tribes can by no means subsist without flesh." Buffon's Nat. Hist. vol. iv. p. 193.
The last assertion, however, is confused in the most pointed manner; not only by the practice of Hindostan, where many millions of men, subsist entirely on vegetables, but even by the example of the peasantry of most countries in Europe, who taste flesh so seldom, that it cannot be supposed to contribute in the least to their welfare.
(7.) "These are the reproaches which in all periods have been thrown upon man, in a state of society, by certain austere and savage philosphers.—Did this state of ideal innocence, of exalted temperance, of ​entire abſtinence from fleſh, of perfect tranquility, of profound peace, ever exiſt? Does the loſs of this ſavage ſtate merit regret? Was man, while a wild unſocial animal, more dignified than the poliſhed citizen?" &c.
Buffon's Nat. Hiſt. vol. iv. p. 184.
(8.) The abſtinence of the Pythagoreans from every kind of animal food is ſufficiently notorious. That the Epicureans alſo bounded their pleaſures by the produce of the vegetable world, we have the teſtimony of ſeveral writers,
(Greek characters)
Porphyrii de Abſtin. Lib. I. para. 48.
​The Manicheans were a ſect of Chriſtians who believed in a good and an evil principle,—worſhipped the ſun and other glorious objects of nature—had a firm faith in the New Teſtament, but rejected the Old, which they ſaid deſcribed the Almighty unjuſt; and religiouſly abſtained from all kinds of animal food. For that, and ſome other good-natured practices and opinions, they ſuffered much obloquy, and were perſecuted by what they call the Catholic Church. Againſt this ſect St. Auguſtine indulges himſelf in a ſtrain of the moſt indecent, bitter, and illiberal invective. "Nunc videamus tria illa ſignacula quæ in veſtris moribus magna laude & prædicatione jactatis? Quæ ſunt tandem iſta ſignacula? Oris cerè & manuum & ſinus. Quid eſt hoc? ​Ut ore inquit, & manibus, & ſinu caſtus, & innocens ſit homo, & c."
St. Auſt. de moribus Manichæorum.
(9.) "When the natives of the Canary Ilands, who were called Guanchos, wanted rain, or had too much, or in any other calamity, they brought their ſheep, and goats into a place appointed, and ſevering the young ones from their dams, raiſed a general bleating amongſt them, which they imagined would appeaſe the wrath of the Supreme Power, and incline him to ſend them what they wanted."
Aſtley's Voyages, vol. i. p. 549.
(10.) Pronaque cum ſpectent animalia cætera terram Os homini ſublime dedit, cælumque videre Juſſit & erectos ad ſidera tollere vultus.
Ovid. Metam. Lib. I. Fab. 2.
(12.) Besides that we do not understand the language of animals, is by no means a convincing proof that they are destitute of speech.
(Greek characters)
Porphyr. der Abstin. Lib. III. par. 3.
"Is it not absurd to deny language to other animals merely because we do not ​understand them? It is as if the crows should imagine that their voice was the sole speech amongst animals, and that men were devoid of reason, because our language was not intelligible to them; or as if the Athenians should conclude that they alone were gifted with language, and should exclude from the list of rational creatures all those who understand not the Attic tongue. To an Athenian, however, the croaking of a crow is as intelligible as the dialects of a Syrian or a Persian. Is it not, therefore, absurd to decide on the rationability or irrationability of animals by their voices of by their silence! By this criterion the Almighty himself and the rest of the Gods would be found irrational, because they do ​not express themselves in the language of men."
"Those, however, whose business it is to rear animals, are at no loss to understand their language. The huntsman knows by the voice of the hound, whether he is in search of the hare or pursues him, whether he has found him, or has lost the scent. In the same manner the cow-herd can tell when the kine are dry or hungry, or fatigued, whether they are stimulated to venery, or call for their young. The voice of man is also understood by other animals, and whether we threaten or caress them, whether we call or instigate them; in short, whatever we express, they instantly comprehend, and readily execute or obey. Now this ​would be impossible, unless there were between man and other animals a similarity of intellect, by which they mutually operate upon and move each other."
Porphyr. de Abstin. Lib. III.
(13.) This is proved not only by solitary and fortuitous examples, but by the practice of whole nations.
"The original inhabitants of the Canary Islands are called by Linschoten, and other authors, Guanchos. They were a rude uncivilized people, every one taking as many wives as he pleased.—As to their children they gave them to the goats to suckle."
Astley's Voyages, vol. i. p. 5.
​(14.) Their preſervation depends in general upon the protection of men, while man in return receives from them the moſt eſſential ſervices. To them at leaſt the moral ſcheme ſhould extend.
"Is it not highly unreaſonable, ſays Porphyrius, de Abſtin. Lib. III. to aſſert, that with men totally addided to their paſſions, men who ſacrifce every thing to luſt, barbarity, rapacity, and vengeance, with men, in ſhort, who exceed in cruelty the moſt ferocious animals, with parricides, for inſtance, with murderers, and ruffians of the moſt flagitious deſcription, with tyrants, and the miniſters of tyranny, the rules of juſtice ſhould be obſerved; and ſhall juſtice be denied to the huſbandman ((Greek characters)) ox, ​to the dog educated with us, to the cattle that nourish us with their milk, or with their wool protect us from the cold?"
(Greek characters)
(15.) They sacrifice upon the top of the mountains, and burn incense upon the hills, under oaks and poplars, and elms, because the shadow thereof is good.—Hosea iv. 13.
​(16.) The first adoration of mankind was paid, no doubt, to heaven and earth, and this worship was nothing else than a sentiment of gratitude emanating from the heart. Ridiculous! says the Christian, to worship brute bodies who bestow this benign influence from necessity, and without the sentiment of benevolence. Yes, but the savage feels and admires, and does not calculate nicely to escape from the demands of gratitude.—But if we are not to pay our worship to any thing in heaven or on the earth, to what then is our adoration due? To an invisible something or nothing, which every man fashions according to his own fancy?—But is this factitious god of yours good by nature or malevolent? If he be naturally good, which you must undoubt​edly reply, neither can he have any claim to our gratitude since he also acts from necessity.
(17.) (Reference omitted in page 63, at Kama-deva.) Kama-deva, literally the God of Fire, (or the Sun) is the most common name of the God of Love among the Hindoos.
(18.) "Antiquissimus Italiæ rex Saturnus tantæ justitiæ fuisse traditur ut neque ​servierit sub illo quisquam neque aliud primae rei habuerit; sed omnia communia es indivisa fuerint, veluti unum cunctis patriphonium esset. Hæc ætas aurea vocata est. Ad servandam tam felicis temporis memoriam instituta sunt apud Græcos et Romanos Saturnalia, in quibus dominorum æ servorum jus æquabatur, &c.”—Vide Justin.
“Alors le ciel et la terre gardoient un ordre charmant, et toutes choses croissoient à l'envi. Les oiseaux faisoient leurs nids si bas qu’on pouvoit les prendre avec la main; tous les animaux se laissoient conduire à la volonté de Phomme. On tenoit le juste (illegible text), et la concorde regnoit partont. On a comptait point l’année par les jours. ​[ 127 ] Il n'yavoit ni dedans ni dehors, ni mien ni tan. C'eft al que gouvernoit Haene- June. Mais quand on eut degenére de cet beureux état ; les oifeaux et les bêtes, les vers et les ferpens, tous enfemble et comme de concert firent la guerre à l'hom- me." Extrait des Hiftorians Chinois. See de l'origine des loix, des Arts et des Sciences, Tom. iii. p. 319. "Lopi et le Ouai-Ri difent que dans L'antiquité la plus reculée, les hommes→ fe cachoient au fond. des. rochers, qu'ils peuploient les deferts, et vivoient en. So- cieté avec toutes les creatures. Ils ne fongeoient point à faire aucun mal. bêtes, et les bêtes ne fongeoient point à les offenfer. Mais dans les ages fuivans, on devint Digialty Google by ​devint trop éclairé, ce qui fit revolter tous les animaux: armés d'ongles, de dens, de cornes et de venin, ils attaquoient l'homme et l'homme ne pouvoit leur résister. Alors Yeou-tsao regna, et ayant fait le premier des maisons de bois en forme de nids d'oifeaux, il porta le peuple à s'y retirer pour éviter les bêtes sauvages."—Ditto.
The felicity of the golden age is still at certain intervals celebrated in the East-Indies, at the temples of Jaggernat and Mamoon. During those seasons of festivity the several casts mix together indiscriminately in commemoration of the perfect equality that prevailed amongst mankind in age of innocence.
​(19.) "It is the greatest boast of philosophy and eloquence, that they first congregated men disperst, united them into societies, and built up the houses and walls of cities. I wish they could unravel all they had woven; that we might have our woods and our innocence again, instead of our castles and our policies. They have assembled many thousand of scattered people into one body; 'tis true they have done so; they have brought them together into cities to cozen, and into armies to murder one another."—Cowley, "on the Danger of an honest Man's keeping Company."
"After the Gods, says Diodorus Siculus, (second section of book first,) Menas reigned in Ægypt. He taught the people ​in what manner to venerate the gods, and was the first who instituted certain rites of religion; he also inftructed them to make tables, and to erect beds, and to cloath themselves in precious garments, and was in short the first master of sumptuosity, luxury, and magnificence. Many ages, after him reigned Gnephachtus—the father of Bocchoris the Wife.—This monarch having led his army into Arabia, was reduced to the greatest extremity for want of provisions on account of the barrenness and difficulty of the place, and even he himself was obliged, for the space of one day, to feed upon the vulgar fare which chance supplied. But the prince was so much delighted with this simple food, that he pronounced an anathema against luxury, ​and imprecated perdition on the king who first invented and introduced the delicate and costly apparatus of life. Nay, so much was he pleased with this change of food, potion and repose, that he caused that imprecation to be inscribed in sacred characters in the temple of Jove at Thebes, which was principally the cause that the glory and honours of Mepas did not endure to posterity."
What St. Augustin says of his childish studies, may properly be applied to a civil life.—Inde in Scholam datus sum ut discerem litteras, in quibus quid utilitatis esset, ignorabam miser, et tamen si segnis in discendo essem, vapulabam. Laudabatur enim hoc a majoribus, et multi ante nos ​vitam iftam agentes, præftruxerunt ærum- nofas vias, per quas tranfire cogebamur, multiplicato labore et dolore filiis Adam.—Confessionum, Lib. I. p. 68.
(20.) "Miror autem tuum, Solon, hof- pitem, fi nuper quum Delüs magnam luf- trationem faceret, non obfervavit ab ipfis in templum inferri monimenta atque ex- empla primi alimenti, cum aliis fponte fua nafcentibus, malvam et albucum, quorum probabile eft Hefiodum quoque nobis vili- tatem ac fimplicitatem commendare.".—Plut. Convivium.
The antient Greeks lived entirely on the fruits of the earth.—See Porphyrius, (Greek characters), Book IV. parag. 2.
​The ancient Syrians abstained from every species of animal food.—See ditto, Book IV. parag. 15.
By the laws of Triptolemus the Athenians were strictly commanded to abstain from all living creatures.—See Porphyr. de Abstinentia.
Even so late as the days of Draco, the Attic oblations consisted only of the fruits of the earth.—See Potter's Antiquities of Greece, vol. i. p. 188.
“Prisci homines foli et sideribus quos existimabant deos, herbam cum follis et ​Radice comburebant: mittebant etiain Frogum primitias; nam animalia occidere nefas arbitrabantur. Et dicebat Pythagoras fe aliquando concilio deorum interfuiffe eofque didiciffe Ægyptiorum facrificia probare quæ libationibus conftant, thure et laudibus, non placere animantium cædes." Eufeb. Præpar. Evang. Lib. I.. c. 9. Non pudet herbolum, dixi pofuiffe moretum In Dominæ menfis? An fua caufa jubet ? Latte mero veteres ufi memorantur et herbis Sponte fua fi quas tellus ferebat, ait Candidus elife mifcetur cafeus herbæ Cognofcat prifces út Dea prima cibes.; Ovid. Faft. Lib.IV. Digiby Google Empedocles, ​Empedocles, ſpeaking of ſacrifice in the earlier ages of the world, ſays,
(Greek characters)
Vide Porphyr. de Abſtin. Lib. II. par. 21.
"The firſt introduction of animal food among the Phoenicians, aroſe from the following incident as related by Neanthes Cyzicenus and Aſclepiades Cyprius. In the beginning no animal was ſacrificed to ​the Gods, nor was there any positive law to prevent this, for it was forbidden by the law of nature. In the time of Pygmalion, however, a Phoenician, who reigned in Cyprus, an occasion occurred in which it was thought necessary to redeem life by life, and an animal was sacrificed, and totally consumed by fire. Some time after the introduction of this practice, a part of the burnt-offering happening to fall to the ground, the priest picked it up, and burning his hand in the ation, in order ta mitigate the pain, applied his fingers to his mouth. Inticed by the flavour of the flesh, and unable to restrain his eager desire, he eat himself, and gave part of the sacrifice to his wife. When Pygmalion was made accquainted with this atrocity, he caused them ​both to be thrown down a rock, and gave the priesthood to another: the new priest soon fell into the temptation of his predecessor, and was punished in the same manner. His fate, however, did not deter imitation, and that which was committed by many was soon practised with impunity by all."—Porphyr. de Abstin. &c.
(21.) “Omnis enim intemperantia, omnis divitiarum spes et gloriæ per hos (dæmones malos) existit, et præcipue deceptio: quippe cum mendacium ipfis proprium sit.—Isti sunt qui libatione et nidore oblectantur: quibus spirituale corpus eorum pinguescit.—Vivit enim id vaporibus et suffimentis, et ex variis, vario modo, nidoribus et sanguine, et carnibus corro​boratur.”—Porphyr. de Abstin. Lib. II. parag. 42.
(22.) O true believers—ye are allowed to eat the brute cattle.—Sale’s Koran, page 82. The idolatrous Arabs used, in killing any animal for food, to consecrate it as it were to their idols, by saying, in the name of Allat or al Uzza, Sale’s Koran.
​"Every moving thing that liveth ſhall be meat for you; even as the green herb have I given you all things.—Geneſis, Chap. 9.
"I will, as the Almighty hath commanded, kill a young lamb. Haſte my love, and chuſe the fineſt flowers to ſtrew the ſacrifice. I took the beſt of my flock; but my children, it is impoſſible to give you a deſcription of what I felt, when I went to deprive the innocent creature of life. It trembling ſeized my hand; I was ſcarce able to hold the ſtruggling victim, and never could I have brought myſelf to give it death, had not my reſolution been animated by the expreſs command of the author of life. The very remembrance of its endeavours ​to eſcape gives me pain. When I beheld its quivering limbs in the laſt moment of its exiſtence, an univerſal tremor ſhook my own; and when it lay before me without ſenſe or motion, dreadful forebodings invaded my troubled ſoul."—Death of Abel, page 85.
Nothing but the expreſs command of the God of Fear could ſteel the human heart to an execution ſo cruel!
The offerings of gratitude, which in the firſt ages the human race ſacrificed to the gods, conſiſted ſimply of graſs. In proportion, however, as men multiplied their enjoyments, more coſtly offerings were made of honey, wine, corn, incenſe. The last ​and latest mode of sacrifice, that of immolating animals, did not, like the custom of sacrificing fruits, owe its origin to any glad occasion or joyful circumstance, but was rather the consequence of famine or some other dire distress. Of all the animals that were slain among the Athenians, the first cause of death, says Porphyrius, was either anger, fear, or accident. A woman for example of the name of Clymene, by an involuntary blow killed a hog. Her husband, terrified at the impiety of the action, went to Delphos to consult the oracle in what manner the crime should be expiated. The Deity of Delphos treated the affair as a venal transgression, and men began soon to consider the murder of swine as a matter of little moment.—Porphyr. de Abstin.
​To a certain priest who asked permission to offer up sheep on the altars of the Gods, the oracle at length gave leave, but with great circumspection. The oracle runs thus:
(Greek characters)
"O, son of the prophets! it is not lawful to slay by violence the sheep; but if any of them should consent voluntarily to his death, him you may with clean hands lawfully sacrifice."
The first slaughter of a bullock amongst the Athenians is related in the following ​manner by Porphyrius, on the testimony of tradition, and more antient writers: His account is also confirmed by Pausanias in his description of Greece, Lib. I. c. 24.
"In the reign of Erechtheus, a priest of the name of Diomus having placed upon the altar of Jupiter Palieus an offering, consisting of barley and honey, a bullock happened to approach the altar, and put his mouth to the offering."
"Enraged at the bull for tasting and trampling upon the consecrated cake, the zealous priest seized an hatchet and killed the animal by a single blow. No sooner had he perpetrated, than he began to repent him of the impious action. He buried ​the bullock, and impelled by an evil conscience, fled of his own accord to the island of Crete. Soon after the Athenian territories were afflicted by a great famine. The Athenians sent to consult the Oracle of Delphos, with respect to the means of relieving themselves from this calamity; the Pythian priestess returned them this response, "that there was at Crete an exile who would expiate their afflictions, and that if they would inflict punishment on the slayer, and erect in the place where he fell a statue to the slain, that this would greatly benefit those who tasted, as also those who had not touched the dead. Having made search for the exile mentioned by the Oracle, the Athenians at length found this Diomus, who, thinking to take away ​the stigma and odium of his crime by communicating it to all, told them that the city ought to slay a bullock. As they stood hesitating at this proposal, and unable to decide who should perpetrate the deed, Diomus offered to strike the blow on these conditions, that they would grant him the freedom of their city, and also participate with him in the murder of the animal. Having agreed to these conditions, they returned to the city, where they regulated the order of the execution in the manner in which it is still performed by them at this day.
"They chose a number of virgins to bring water in order to whet the hatchet and the knife. When these weapons were ​sharpened, one man delivered the ax, another struck the bullock, and a third cut his throat. They then skinned the animal, and all those that were present tasted of his flesh. Having done this, they sewed up the skin, stuffing it with straw, and setting it up as if it were alive, put a plough to his tail, and placed him as it were in act to till the ground. They then called before the tribunal of justice those who had been guilty of the fact, in order that they might justify themselves. The virgins who brought the water, threw the blame on those who had whetted the steel; they who had whetted the steel blamed the person who delivered the hatchet; he threw the blame on the man who cut the bullock's throat, and the latter accused the weapon, which, as it could not defend it​self, was found guilty of the murder, and thrown into the sea."—Porphyr. de Abstin. Lib. II. parag. 29 and 30.—Something similar to the above is related of a northern Hoord of Tartars.
"The bear has also some part in their divine worship. As soon as they have killed the creature, they pull off its skin, and hang it in presence of their Idol on a very high tree, and afterwards revere it, and amuse themselves with doleful lamentations, as if they repented of the impious deed. They ridiculously plead that it was the arrow, not they, that gave the lethal wound, and that the feather added wings to its unhappy flight," &c.— Astley's Voyage, vol. iii. p. 355.
​The dreadful calamities occasioned by a great deluge, forced the Chinese to feed upon their fellow creatures.
"Les eaux yu étoient pour ainsi dire arrivées jusqu'au ciel et elles s'élevoient au-dessus des plus hautes montagnes: Les peuples périssoient ainsi misérablement. Au milieu de cet affreux déluge. . . . . . Je commençois par couper les bois, en suivant les chaînes des montagnes: après quoi Pey et moi nous apprimes aux hommes à manger de la chair."—Du Halde, vol. ii. p. 301.
In the same manner the natives of Chanaan and of Mesopotamia were driven to the dire necessity of feeding upon their fellow creatures by a deluge which covered ​the face of the earth, and destroyed the green herb which God had given to the human race for food. In this deplorable state the children of Noah were compelled to lay their hands on the life of the cattle of the field, and God found it necessary to deliver to the Patriarch a new precept. "Every moving thing that liveth shall be meat for you, even as the green herb have I given you all things."—Gen. ch. ix. ver. 3.
Thus we find that nothing short of the most consummate distress could compel the human race to subsist by the murder of other animals. Unfortunately for every order of life the horrid act of violence, suggested by a lawless necessity, had become ​by frequent repetition an unfeeling habit, and the practice of destroying our fellow creatures survived the calamity by which it was occasioned.
(23.) "This being done, they made trial whether the victim was willing to be sacrificed to the gods by drawing a knife from its forehead to the tail, as Servius has observed, to which, if the victim struggled, it was rejected as not acceptable to the gods; but if it stood quiet at the altar then they thought the gods were pleased with it; yet a bare non-refistance was not thought sufficient, except it would also give its consent as it were by a gracious nod, (which was the antient manner of approving or granting, whence the word (Greek characters) among ​the Greeks, and annuere among the Romans, ſignifying to give aſſent to any thing) and to this purpoſe they poured water into its ear, and ſometimes barley, which they called Προχυτας."—Potter's Grecian Antiq. vol. i. p. 201.
Dabant operam victimarii ut victima in cultros ſuppoſitos ſive ſubjectos capite incumbens, ſpeciem præberet ſponte ad interitum ſe offerentis. In vulnus cecidere greges. Papin. in Thebaide.
(Greek characters) Oracle of Delphos.
​By a quibble equally miserable were the lives of innocent animals explained away amongst the Jews. God and Nature, which are the same, had said to Adam, "Behold I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of the earth, and every tree in which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat," Gen. chap. i. ver. 29.
"But flesh, with the life thereof, which is the blood thereof, shall you not eat," Gen. chap. ix. ver. 5.
How did the Jews elude this positive command of a merciful God? Why, they murdered the animal, and pouring out his blood upon the earth like water, devoured ​his flesh without scruple; and they said we have not violated the law, we have not eaten the flesh with the life thereof, which is the blood thereof, for the blood we have poured upon the earth like water!
"Thou shalt not eat the blood, for the blood is the life; thou shalt pour it upon the earth like water," Levit. chap. xvii.
In the same manner "the Indians (American) through a strong principle of religion, abstain from eating the blood of any animal, as it contains the life and spirit of the heart, and was the very essence of the sacrifices that were to be offered up for sinners." Adair's Hist. of American Indians, p. 134.
​By wicked evasions, and perfidious quibbles like these, the Hindoos have also in some instances learnt to elude the pious and salutary precepts of their law.
"Whenever a Hindoo has occasion to cross the Carramnassa, or the accursed river, which in the dry season is fordable, he gives a Mahomedan a piece of money to carry him over upon his back, that his feet may not be wet with the accursed river, which is a thing forbidden by their religion. In this and many other instances the letter of the commandment is observed, while the spirit of it is lost; for I think, one cannot doubt but that the intention of this law was to keep them within their own provinces." Letters from the East Indies.
​(24.) "But the Bramins deny that any such person as Brimha existed, which we have reason to believe is the truth, as Brimha, in the Shanscritta language, allegorically signifies wisdom, one of the principal attributes of the supreme divinity." Preface to Dow's Hist. of Hindostan.
It has ever indeed been customary to attribute to the gods the more early efforts of legislation, and the first lawgivers have in all countries been confounded with that Divine Wisdom from which their precepts were derived.
"Puto enim triumviros istos poeseos Orphæa, Mufæum, Linum non fuisse sed esse nomina ab antiqua Phœnicum lingua ​qua usi Cadmus & aliquandiu posteri. Mufæus absque dubio a Musa sive Μωσα quod a מוסר Mosar, ars, disciplina. Orphæus itidem a scientia nomen habuerit." Vossius de Art. Poet. Nat. cap. xiii.
To Mousa (Moses) that is Wisdom, the Jews have also been ambitious of ascribing their code of laws. At least this is a more probable, as well as a more respectful conjecture as to the person of the Hebrew lawgiver, (since conjecture is all that remains to us on that head) than that of Suidas, who tells us, that Moses was an old woman. Μωσω γυνη εβραια ἦς ἐστι Συγγραμμα ὀ παρ ' Εβραίοις νομος ὤς φησιν Ἀλέξανδρος ὀ Μελήσιος ὀ Πλυιστωρ. Suid. Lex. tom. ii. p. 583.
FINIS.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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