Ordinarily that man is considered healthy who
eats well and moves about, and does not resort to
a doctor. But a little thought will convince us that
this idea is wrong. There are many cases of men
being diseased, in spite of their eating well and
freely moving about. They are under the delusion
that they are healthy, simply because they are too
indifferent to think about the matter.
In fact, perfectly healthy men hardly exist anywhere
over this wide world.
As has been well said, only that man can be said
to be really healthy, who has a sound mind in a sound
body. The relation between the body and the mind
is so intimate that, if either of them got out
of order, the whole system would suffer. Let us
take the analogy of the rose-flower. Its colour
stands to its fragrance in the same way as the body
to the mind or the soul. No one regards an artificial
paper-flower as a sufficient substitute for the
natural flower, for the obvious reason that the
fragrance, which forms the essence of the flower,
cannot be reproduced. So too, we instinctively
honour the man of a pure mind and a noble character
in preference to the man who is merely physically
strong. Of course, the body and the soul are both
essential, but the latter is far more important than
the former. No man whose character is not pure
can be said to be really healthy. The body which
contains a diseased mind can never be anything
but diseased. Hence it follows that a pure character
is the foundation of health in the real sense
of the term; and we may say that all evil
thoughts and evil passions are but different forms
of disease.
Thus considered, we may conclude that that man
alone is perfectly healthy whose body is well
formed, whose teeth as well as eyes and ears are in
good condition, whose nose is free from dirty
matter, whose skin exudes perspiration freely and
without any bad smell, whose mouth is also free
from bad smells, whose hands and legs perform
their duty properly, who is neither too fat nor too
thin, and whose mind and senses are constantly
under his control. As has already been said, it is
very hard to gain such health, but it is harder
still to retain it, when once it has been acquired.
The chief reason why we are not truly healthy is
that our parents were not. An eminent writer has
said that, if the parents are in perfectly good condition
their children would certainly be superior to
them in all respects. A perfectly healthy man
has no reason to fear death; our terrible fear
of death shows that we are far from being so
healthy. It is, however, the clear duty of all of us
to strive for perfect health. We will, therefore,
proceed to consider in the following pages how
such health can be attained, and how, when once
attained, it can also be retained for ever.
The world is compounded of the five elements,—earth,
water, air, fire, and ether. So too is our body.
It is a sort of miniature world. Hence the body
stands in need of all the elements in due proportion,—pure
earth, pure water, pure fire or sunlight,
pure air, and open space. When any one of these
falls short of its due proportion, illness is caused
in the body.
The body is made up of skin and bone, as well
as flesh and blood. The bones constitute the
frame-work of the body; but for them we could
not stand erect and move about. They protect
the softer parts of the body. Thus the skull
gives protection to the brain, while the ribs
protect the heart and the lungs. Doctors have
counted 238 bones in the human body. The outside
of the bones is hard, but the inside is soft and
hollow. Where there is a joint between two bones,
there is a coating of marrow, which may be regarded
as a soft bone. The teeth, too, are to be counted
among the bones.
When we feel the flesh at some points, we find
it to be tough and elastic. This part of the flesh
is known as the muscle. It is the muscles that
enable us to fold and unfold our arms, to move our
jaws, and to close our eyes. It is by means of the
muscles, again, that our organs of perception do
their work.
It is beyond the province of this book to give a detailed
account of the structure of the body; nor has
the present writer enough knowledge to give such
an account. We will, therefore, content ourselves
with just as much information as is essential for
our present purpose.
The most important portion of the body is the
stomach. If the stomach ceases to work even for a
single moment, the whole body would collapse.
The work of the stomach is to digest the food, and
so to provide nourishment to the body. Its relation
to the body is the same as that of the steam engine
to the Railway train. The gastric juice which is produced
in the stomach helps the assimilation of nutritious
elements in the food, the refuse being sent out
by way of the intestines in the form of urine and
fæces. On the left side of the abdominal cavity
is the spleen, while to the right of the stomach is
the liver, whose function is the purification of the
blood and the secretion of the bile, which is so
useful for digestion.
In the hollow space enclosed by the ribs are
situated the heart and the lungs. The heart is between
the two lungs, but more to the left than the
right. There are on the whole 24 bones in the
chest; the action of the heart can be felt between
the fifth and the sixth rib. The lungs are connected
with the windpipe. The air which we
inhale is taken into the lungs through the windpipe,
and the blood is purified by it. It is of the
utmost importance to breathe through the nose,
instead of through the mouth.
On the circulation of the blood depend all activities
of the body. It is the blood that provides
nourishment to the body. It extracts the nutritious
elements out of the food, and ejects the refuse
through the intestines, and so keeps the body
warm. The blood is incessantly circulating all
over the body, along the veins and the arteries.
The beatings of the pulse are due to the circulation
of the blood. The pulse of a normal adult man
beats some 75 times a minute. The pulses of
children beat faster, while those of old men are
slower.
The chief agency for keeping the blood pure is
the air. When the blood returns to the lungs after
one complete round over the body, it is impure and
contains poisonous elements. The oxygen of the
air which we inhale purifies this blood and is
assimilated into it, while the nitrogen absorbs the
poisonous matter and is breathed out. This process
goes on incessantly. As the air has a very
important function to perform in the body, we shall
devote a separate chapter to a detailed consideration
of the same.
Of the three things that are indispensable for
the subsistence of man,—namely, air, water, and
food—the first is the most important. Hence it is
that God has created it in such large quantities as
to make it available to all of us for nothing. Modern
civilisation, however, has rendered even fresh
air somewhat costly, for, in order to breathe fresh
air, we have to go out of towns, and this means
expense. The residents of Bombay, for instance,
distinctly improve in health in the air of Matheran
or, still better, of the Malabar Hills; but they cannot
go to these places without money. Hence, in
these days, it would be hardly true to say that we
get fresh air gratis, as we used to in the old days.
But, whether fresh air is available gratis or not, it
is undeniable that we cannot get on without it. We
have already seen that the blood circulates over
the body, returns to the lungs, and after being
purified, starts on its round again. We breathe
out the impure air, and take in oxygen from the
outside, which purifies the blood. This process
of inspiration and expiration goes on for ever, and
on it depends man’s life. When drowned in water
we die, because, then we are unable to let out the
impure air in the body and take in pure air from
outside. The divers go down into the water in
what is known as a diving bell, and they take in
fresh air through a tube which leads to the top.
Hence it is that they are able to remain under
water for a long time.
It has been ascertained by experiments that no
man can live without air for as long as five minutes.
We often hear of the death of little children,
when they are held so close to the bosom by ignorant
mothers as to make it impossible for them to
breathe.
We should all be as much against the breathing
of impure air as we are against the drinking of
dirty water and the eating of dirty food; but the
air we breathe is, as a rule, far more impure than
the water we drink or the food we eat. We are all
worshippers of concrete objects; those things that
can be seen and felt are regarded by us as of far
greater importance than those which are invisible
and intangible. Since air belongs to this latter
class of objects, we fail to realise the evil wrought
by the impure air that we breathe. We would
think twice before eating the leavings of another
man’s food, or drinking out of a cup polluted by
another man’s lips. Even those who have not the
least sense of shame or repugnance would never
eat another man’s vomit, or drink the water which
has been spat out by him; even those who are
dying of hunger and thirst would refuse to do it.
But, alas, how few of us realise that the air we
inhale is so often the impure and poisonous air
which has been exhaled by others, and which is
surely no less objectionable than a man’s vomit!
How strange that men should sit and sleep together
for hours in closed rooms, and go on
inhaling the deadly air exhaled by themselves and
their companions! How fortunate for man that air
should be so light and diffusive, and capable of
penetrating the smallest holes! Even when the
doors and windows are closed, there is generally
some little space between the walls and the roof,
through which some air from outside manages to
get in, so that the inmates of the room have not to
breathe exclusively poisoned air. The air that we
exhale mixes with the air outside, and is rendered
pure again by an automatic process that is always
going on in Nature.
Now we are able to understand why so many
men and women should be weak and diseased.
There can be absolutely no doubt that impure air is
the root-cause of disease in ninety-nine cases out of
every hundred. It follows that the best way of
avoiding disease is to live and work in the open
air. No doctor can compete with fresh air in this
matter. Consumption is caused by the decay of
the lungs, due to the inhaling of impure air, just as
a steam engine which is filled with bad coal gets
out of order. Hence doctors say that the easiest
and the most effective treatment for a consumptive
patient is to keep him in fresh air for all the 24
hours of the day.
It is, of course, essential to know how we can
keep the air pure. In fact, every child should be
taught the value of fresh air, as soon as it is able
to understand anything. If my readers would
take the trouble to learn the simple facts about the
air and would put their knowledge into practice,
while teaching their children also to do the same.
I shall feel immensely gratified.
Our latrines are perhaps most responsible for rendering
the air impure. Very few people realise the
serious harm done by dirty latrines. Even dogs
and cats make with their claws something like a
pit wherein to deposit their fæces, and then cover
it up with some earth. Where there are no lavatories
of the modern approved types, we should also
do likewise. There should be kept ashes or dry
earth in a tin can or an earthen vessel inside the
latrine, and whoever goes into the latrine should,
on coming out, cover the fæces well with the ash
or the earth, as the case may be. If this is done
there would be no bad smell, and the flies too will
not settle on it and transmit the filth. Anybody
whose sense of smell has not been wholly blunted,
or who has not grown thoroughly accustomed to
foul smells will know how noxious is the smell
that emanates from all filthy matter which is
allowed to lie open to the weather. Our gorge
rises at the very thought of fæces being mixed
with our food, but we go on inhaling the air
which has been polluted by such foul smell,
forgetting the fact that the one is just as
bad as the other, except that, while the former
is visible, the latter is not. We should see that
our latrines are kept thoroughly neat and clean.
We abhor the idea of our cleaning the latrines
ourselves, but what we should really abhor is the
idea of making use of dirty latrines. What is
the harm in ourselves removing the filth which
has been expelled from inside our own body, and
which we are not ashamed to have removed by
others? There is absolutely no reason why we
should not ourselves learn the work of scavenging
and teach it to our children as well. The filthy
matter should be removed, and thrown into a pit
two feet deep, and then covered up with a thick
layer of earth. If we go to some open place, we
should dig a small pit with our hands or feet, and
then cover it up, after the bowels have been
evacuated.
We also make the air impure by making water
at all places indiscriminately. This dirty habit
should be given up altogether. If there is no place
specially set apart for the purpose, we should go to
some dry ground away from the house, and should
also cover up the urine with earth.
The filth should not be cast into very deep pits,
for, in that case, it would be beyond the reach of
sun’s heat, and would also pollute the water
flowing underneath the earth.
The habit of spitting indiscriminately on the
verandahs, court yards, and such like places is also
very bad. The spittle, especially of consumptives,
is very dangerous. The poisonous germs in it
rise into the air, and, being inhaled by others,
lead to a spread of the disease. We should keep
a spittoon inside the house, and if we have
to spit when out on the road we should spit
where there is dry dust, so that the spittle may
be absorbed into the dust and cause no harm.
Doctors hold that the consumptive should spit into
a spittoon with some disinfectant in it: for, even if
he spits on dry ground, the germs in his spittle
manage to rise and spread into the air along with
the dust. But, in any case, there can be no doubt
that the habit of spitting wherever we please is
dirty as well as dangerous.
Some people throw where they like cooked food
and other articles, which decay and render the air
impure. If all such rubbish be put underground,
the air would not be made impure, and good
manure, too could be obtained. In fact, no kind of
decaying matter should be allowed to lie exposed
to the air. It is so easy for us to take this necessary
precaution, if only we are in earnest about it.
Now we have seen how our own bad habits
render the air impure, and what we can do to keep
it pure. Next we shall consider how to inhale the
air.
As already mentioned in the last chapter, the
air is to be inhaled through the nose, and not
through the mouth. There are, however, very
few persons who know how to breathe correctly.
Many people are in the pernicious habit of
inhaling through the mouth. If very cold air
is inhaled through the mouth, we catch cold
and sore throat. Further, if we inhale through
the mouth, the particles of dust in the air go into
the lungs and cause great mischief. In London, for
instance, in November, the smoke which issues
from the chimneys of great factories mixes with
the dense fog, producing a kind of yellow mixture.
This contains tiny particles of soot, which
can be detected in the spittle of a man who inhales
through the mouth. To escape this, many women
(who have not learnt to breathe through the nose
alone) put on a special kind of veil over their faces,
which act as sieves. If these veils are closely
examined, particles of dust can be detected in
them. But God has given to all of us a sieve of this
kind inside the nose. The air which is inhaled
through the nostrils is sifted before it reaches the
lungs, and is also warmed in the process. So all
men should learn to breathe through the nose
alone. And this is not at all difficult, if we
remember to keep our mouth firmly shut at all
times, except when we are talking. Those who
have got into the habit of keeping their mouth open
should sleep with a bandage round the mouth,
which would force them to breathe through the
nose. They should also take some twenty long
respirations in the open air, both in the morning
and in the evening. In fact, all men can practise
this simple exercise and see for themselves how
rapidly their chest deepens. If the chest be
measured at the beginning of the practice, and
again after an interval of two months, it will be
seen how much it has expanded in this short
period.
After learning how to inhale the air, we should
cultivate the habit of breathing fresh air, day in and
day out. We are generally in the most pernicious
habit of keeping confined to the house or the office
throughout the day, and sleeping in narrow rooms
at night, with all doors and windows shut. As far
as possible, we should remain in the open air at all
times. We should at least sleep on the verandah or
in the open air. Those who cannot do this should
at least keep the doors and windows of the room
fully open at all times. The air is our food
for all the twenty-four hours of the day. Why,
then, should we be afraid of it? It is a most
foolish idea that we catch cold by inhaling the
cool breeze of the morning. Of course, those
people who have spoiled their lungs by the evil
habit of sleeping within closed doors are likely to
catch cold, if they change their habit all on a
sudden. But even they should not be afraid of
cold, for this cold can be speedily got rid of. Now-a-days,
in Europe, the houses for consumptives are
being built in such a way that they may get fresh
air at all times. We know what terrible havoc is
wrought in India by epidemics. We should remember
that these epidemics are due to our habit of
defiling the air, and of inhaling this poisonous air.
We should understand that even the most delicate
people will be benefitted by systematically inhaling
fresh air. If we cultivate the habit of keeping
the air pure and of breathing only fresh air, we
can save ourselves from many a terrible disease.
Sleeping with the face uncovered is as essential
as sleeping in fresh air. Many of our people are
in the habit of sleeping with the face covered,
which means that they have to inhale the poisonous
air which has been exhaled by themselves.
Fortunately however, some of the air from outside
does find its way through the interstices of the
cloth, else they should die of suffocation. But the
small quantity of air that gains entrance in this
way is altogether inadequate. If we are suffering
from cold, we may cover the head with a piece
of cloth, or put on a night-cap, but the nose should
be kept exposed under all circumstances.
Air and light are so intimately connected with
each other that it is as well to speak a few words
here on the value of light. Light is as indispensable
to life as air itself. Hence it is that Hell
is represented as completely dark. Where light
cannot penetrate, the air can never be pure. If we
enter a dark cellar, we can distinctly perceive the
smell of the foul air. The fact that we cannot see
in the dark shows that God has intended us to live
and move in the light. And Nature has given us
just as much darkness as we require in the night.
Yet, many people are in the habit of sitting or
sleeping in underground cellars, devoid of air and
light, even in the hottest summer! Those who thus
deprive themselves of air and light are always
weak and haggard.
Now-a-days, there are many doctors in Europe
who cure their patients by means of air-bath and
sun-bath alone. Thousands of diseased persons
have been cured by mere exposure to the air and
to the sunlight. We should keep all doors and
windows in our houses always open, in order to
allow the free entrance of air and light.
Some readers may ask why, if air and light
are so indispensable, those who live and work in
cellars are not visibly affected. Those who have
thought well over the matter would never put this
question. Our aim should be to attain the maximum
of health by all legitimate means; we should
not be content merely to live anyhow. It has been
indubitably established that insufficient air and
light give rise to disease. Dwellers in towns are, as
a rule, more delicate than those in the country, for
they get less air and light than the latter. Air
and light, then, are absolutely indispensable to
health, and every one should remember all that we
have said on the matter, and act up to it to the best
of his ability.
As has been already pointed out, air is the most
indispensable to our subsistence, while water comes
next in order. Man cannot live for more than a
few minutes without air, but he can live for a few
days without water. And in the absence of other
food, he can subsist on water alone for many days.
There is more than 70% of water in the composition
of our food-stuffs, as in that of the human body.
Even though water is so indispensable, we take
hardly any pains to keep it pure. Epidemics are
as much the outcome of our indifference to the
quality of the water we drink, as of the air we
breathe. The drinking of dirty water very often
produces also the disease of the stone.
Water may be impure in either of two ways,—by
issuing from dirty places, or by being defiled by us.
Where the water issues from dirty places, we
should not drink it at all; nor do we generally
drink it. But we do not shrink from drinking the
water which has been defiled by ourselves. River-water,
for instance, is regarded as quite good for
drinking, although we throw into it all sorts of
rubbish, and also use it for washing purposes. We
should make it a rule never to drink the water in
which people bathe. The upper portion of a river
should be set apart for drinking water, the lower
being reserved for bathing and washing purposes.
Where there is no such arrangement, it is a good
practice to dig in the sand, and take drinking
water therefrom. This water is very pure, since
it has been filtered by passage through the sand.
It is generally risky to drink well-water, for unless
it is well protected, the dirty water at the top
would trickle down into the well, and render the
water impure. Further, birds and insects often
fall into the water and die; sometimes birds build
their nests inside the wells; and the dirt from the
feet of those who draw water from the well is also
washed down into the water. For all these reasons,
we should be particularly careful in drinking
well-water. Water kept in tubs is also very often
impure. If it should be pure, the tubs should be
washed clean at frequent intervals, and should be
kept covered; we should also see that the tank or
well from which the water is taken is kept in good
condition. Very few people, however, take such
precautions to keep the water pure. Hence the
best way of removing the impurities of the water
is to boil it well, and, after cooling it, filter it carefully
into another vessel through a thick and clean
piece of cloth. Our duty, however, does not end
with this. We should realise that we owe a duty
to our fellowmen in this matter. We should see to
it that we do absolutely nothing to defile the water
which is used for drinking by the public. We
should scrupulously refrain from bathing or washing
in the water which is reserved for drinking;
we should never answer the calls of nature near the
banks of a river, nor cremate the dead bodies there
and throw the ashes after cremation into the water.
In spite of all the care that we may take, we
find it so difficult to keep water perfectly pure. It
may have, for instance, salt dissolved in it, or bits
of grass and other decaying matter. Rain water
is, of course, the purest, but, before it reaches us,
it generally becomes impure by the absorption of
the floating matter in the atmosphere. Perfectly
pure water has a most beneficial effect on the system;
hence doctors administer distilled water to
their patients. Those who are suffering from constipation
are appreciably benefitted by the use of
distilled water.
Many people do not know that water is of two
kinds, soft and hard. Hard water is water in
which some kind of salt has been dissolved. Hence,
soap does not readily lather in it, and food
cannot be easily boiled in it. Its taste is
brackish, while soft water tastes sweet. It is
much safer to drink soft water, although some
people hold that hard water is better by virtue
of the presence of nutritious matter dissolved
therein. Rain water is the best kind of soft water,
and is therefore, the best for drinking purposes.
Hard water, if boiled and kept over the fire for
some half an hour, is rendered soft. Then it may
be filtered and drunk.
The question is often asked, “When should one
drink water, and how much?” The only safe
answer to this is this: one should drink water only
when one feels thirsty, and even then only just
enough to quench the thirst. There is no harm in
drinking water during the meals or immediately
afterwards. Of course, we should not wash the
food down with water. If the food refuses to go
down of itself, it means that either it has not been
well prepared or the stomach is not in need of it.
Ordinarily, there is no need to drink water; and
indeed, there should be none. As already mentioned,
there is a large percentage of water in our
ordinary articles of food, and we also add water in
cooking them. Why then should we feel thirsty?
Those people whose diet is free from such articles
as chillies and onions which create an artificial
thirst, have rarely any need to drink water. Those
who feel unaccountably thirsty must be suffering
from some disease or other.
We may be tempted to drink any kind of water
that we come across, simply because we see some
people doing it with impunity. The reply to this
has already been given in connection with air.
Our blood has in itself the power of destroying
many of the poisonous elements that enter into it,
but it has to be renewed and purified, just as the
sharp edge of a sword has to be mended when it has
been once employed in action. Hence, if we go on
drinking impure water, we should not be surprised
to find our blood thoroughly poisoned in the end.
It is impossible to lay down hard and fast rules
in the matter of food. What sort of food should
we eat, how much of it should be eaten, and at
what times,—these are questions on which doctors
differ a great deal. The ways of men are so
diverse, that the very same food shows different
effects on different individuals.
Although, however, it is impossible to say conclusively
what sort of food we should eat, it is the
clear duty of every individual to bestow serious
thought on the matter. Needless to say, the body
cannot subsist without food. We undergo all sorts
of sufferings and privations for the sake of food.
But, at the same time, it is indisputable that 99.9%
of men and women in the world eat merely to please
the palate. They never pause to think of the
after-effects at the time of eating. Many people
take purgatives and digestive pills or powders in
order to be able to eat thoroughly well. Then
there are some people who, after eating to the
utmost of their capacity, vomit out all that they
have eaten, and proceed to eat the same stuffs once
more! Some people, indeed, eat so sumptuously
that, for two or three days together, they do not
feel hungry at all. In some cases, men have even
been known to have died of over-eating. I say all
this from my own experience. When I think of
my old days, I am tempted to laugh at many
things, and cannot help being ashamed of some
things. In those days I used to have tea in the
morning, breakfast two or three hours afterwards,
dinner at one o’clock, tea again at 3 p.m., and
supper between 6 and 7! My condition at that
time was most pitiable. There was a great deal
of superfluous fat on my body, and bottles of
medicine were always at hand. In order to be
able to eat well, I used to take purgatives very
often, as well as some tonic or other. In those
days, I had not a third of my present capacity for
work, in spite of the fact that I was then in the prime
of youth. Such a life is surely pitiable, and if we
consider the matter seriously, we must also admit
it to be mean, sinful and thoroughly contemptible.
Man is not born to eat, nor should he live to eat.
His true function is to know and serve his Maker;
but, since the body is essential to this service, we
have perforce to eat. Even atheists will admit
that we should eat merely to preserve our health,
and not more than is needed for this purpose.
Turn to the birds and beasts, and what do you
find? They never eat merely to please the palate,
they never go on eating till their inside is full to
overflowing. On the other hand, they eat only to
appease their hunger, and even then only just as
much as will appease their hunger. They take
the food provided by Nature, and do not cook their
food. Can it be that man alone is created to worship
the palate? Can it be that he alone is destined
to be eternally suffering from disease? Those animals
that live a natural life of freedom never once
die of hunger. Among them there are no distinctions
of rich and poor,—of those who eat many
times a day, and those who do not get even one
meal in the day. These abnormalities are found
only among us human beings,—and yet we regard
ourselves as superior to the animal creation! Surely
those who spend their days in the worship of their
stomach are worse than the birds and beasts.
A calm reflection will show that all sins like
lying, cheating and stealing are ultimately due to
our subjection to the palate. He who is able to
control the palate, will easily be able to control the
other senses. If we tell lies, or commit theft or
adultery, we are looked down upon by society, but,
strangely enough, no odium attaches to those who
slavishly pander to the palate! It would seem as
though this were not a question of morality at all!
The fact is that even the best of us are slaves to
the palate. No one has yet adequately emphasised
the numberless evils that arise from our habit of
pandering to the palate. All civilised people
would boycott the company of liars, thieves, and
adulterers; but they go on eating beyond all
limits, and never regard it as a sin at all. Pandering
to the palate is not regarded by us as a sin,
since all of us are guilty of it, just as dacoity is not
regarded as a crime in a village of dacoits; but
what is worse, we pride ourselves on it! On occasions
of marriage and other festivities, we regard
it as a sacred duty to worship the palate; even in
times of funeral, we are not ashamed of doing it.
Has a guest come? We must gorge him with sweetmeats.
If, from time to time, we do not give feasts
to our friends and relations, or do not partake of
the feasts given by them, we must become objects
of contempt. If, having invited our friends to eat
with us, we fail to cram them with rich stuffs, we
must be regarded as miserly. On holidays, of
course, we must have specially rich food prepared!
Indeed, what is really a great sin has come to be
looked upon as a sign of wisdom! We have
sedulously cultivated such false notions in the
matter of eating that we never realise our slavishness
and our beastliness. How can we save ourselves
from this terrible state?
Let us view the question from another standpoint.
We find it invariably the case in the world that Nature
herself has provided for all creatures, whether
man or beast, or bird or insect, just enough food for
their sustenance. This is an eternal law of Nature.
In the kingdom of Nature, none goes to sleep, none
forgets to do his duty, and none shows a tendency
to laziness. All the work is done to perfection, and
punctually to the minute. If we remember to order
our lives strictly in accordance with the immutable
and eternal laws of Nature, we shall find that there
are no more deaths by starvation anywhere over the
wide world. Since Nature always provides just
enough food to feed all created beings, it follows
that he who takes to himself more than his normal
share of food, is depriving another of his legitimate
share. Is it not a fact, that, in the kitchens of emperors
and kings, of all rich men, in general, much
more food is prepared than is required to feed them
and all their dependents? That is to say, they
snatch so much food from the share of the poor. Is
it, then, any wonder that the poor should die of
starvation? If this is true (and this fact has been
admitted by the most thoughtful men) it must
necessarily follow that all the food that we eat beyond
our immediate need is food filched from the
stomachs of the poor. And to the extent to which
we eat merely with a view to pleasing the palate
must our health necessarily suffer. After this preliminary
discussion, we can proceed to consider
what kind of food is best for us.
Before, however, we decide the question of the
ideal food for us, we have to consider what kinds
of food are injurious to health, and to be avoided.
Under the term “food”, we include all the things
that are taken into the body through the mouth,—including
wine, bhang and opium, tobacco, tea,
coffee and cocoa, spices and condiments. I am convinced
that all these articles have to be completely
eschewed, having been led to this conviction partly
from my own experience, and partly from the
experiences of others.
Wine, bhang and opium have been condemned
by all the religions of the world, although the
number of total abstainers is so limited. Drink
has brought about the ruin of whole families. The
drunkard forfeits his sanity; he has even been
known to forget the distinction between mother,
wife and daughter. His life becomes a mere
burden to him. Even men of sound sense become
helpless automatons when they take to drink; even
when not actually under its influence, their minds
are too impotent to do any work. Some people say
that wine is harmless when used as medicine, but
even European doctors have begun to give up this
view in many cases. Some partisans of drink argue
that, if wine can be used as medicine with impunity,
it can also be used as drink. But many poisons are
employed as medicines; do we ever dream of employing
them as food? It is quite possible that, in
some diseases, wine may do some good, but even
then, no sensible, or thoughtful man should consent
to use it even as medicine, under any circumstances.
As for opium, it is no less injurious than wine, and
is to be equally eschewed. Have we not seen a
mighty nation like the Chinese falling under the
deadly spell of opium, and rendering itself incapable
of maintaining its independence? Have we
not seen the jagirdars of our own land forfeiting
their jagirs under the same fatal influence?
So powerful is the spell that has been woven over
the minds of men by tobacco that it will take an
age to break it. Young and old have equally come
under this fatal spell. Even the best men do not
shrink from the use of tobacco. Its use, indeed,
has become a matter of course with us, and is
spreading wider and wider every day. Very few
people are aware of the many tricks employed by
the cigarette-manufacturers to bring us more and
more under its influence. They sprinkle opium or
some perfumed acid on the tobacco, so that we
may find it all the more difficult to extricate ourselves
from its clutches. They spend thousands of
pounds in advertisements. Many European firms
dealing in cigars keep their own presses, have
their own cinemas, institute lotteries, and give
away prizes, and, in short, spend money like water
to achieve their end. Even women have now
begun to smoke. And poems have been composed
on tobacco, extolling it as the great friend of the
poor!
The evils of smoking are too numerous to mention.
The habitual smoker becomes such a bond
slave to it that he knows no sense of shame or
compunction; he proceeds to emit the foul fumes
even in the houses of strangers! It is also a matter
of common experience that smokers are often
tempted to commit all sorts of crimes. Children
steal money from their parents’ purses; and even
the prisoners in gaols manage to steal cigarettes
and keep them carefully concealed. The smoker
will get on without food, but he cannot dispense
with his smoke! Soldiers on the field of battle
have been known to lose all capacity for fighting
for failure of the indispensable cigarette at the
critical moment.
The late Count Leo Tolstoi of Russia tells us the
following story. A certain man once took it into
his head, for some reason, to murder his wife. He
actually drew the knife and was about to do the
deed, when he felt some compunction, and gave it
up. Then he sat down to smoke and his wits being
turned under the influence of tobacco, he rose once
more and actually committed the murder. Tolstoi
held the view that the poison of tobacco is more
subtle and irresistible, and hence far more dangerous,
than that of wine.
Then the money that is spent on cigars and
cigarettes by individuals is frightfully large. I
have myself come across instances of cigars consuming
as much as Rs. 75 a month for one man!
Smoking also leads to an appreciable reduction
of digestive powers. The smoker feels no appetite
for food, and in order to give it some flavour, spices
and condiments have to be freely used. His breath
stinks, and, in some cases, blisters are formed on
his face, and the gums and teeth turn black in
colour. Many also fall a prey to terrible diseases.
The fumes of tobacco befoul the air around, and
public health suffers in consequence. I cannot
understand how those who condemn drink can
have the temerity to defend smoking. The man
who does not eschew tobacco in all its forms can
never be perfectly healthy, nor can he be a man
of pure and blameless character.
I must say that tea, coffee and cocoa are equally
injurious to health, although I know that very few
are likely to agree with me. There is a kind of
poison in all of them; and, in the case of tea and
coffee, if milk and sugar were not added, there
would be absolutely no nutritious element in them.
By means of repeated and varied experiments it
has been established that there is nothing at all in
these articles which is capable of improving the
blood. Until a few years ago, we used to drink
tea and coffee only on special occasions, but to-day
they have become universally indispensable.
Things have come to such a pass that even sickly
persons often use them as substitutes for nourishing
food!
Fortunately for us, the costliness of cocoa has
prevented its spread to the same extent as tea
and coffee, although, in the homes of the rich, it is
quite liberally used.
That all these three articles are poisonous can
be seen from the fact that those who once take to
them can never afterwards get on without them.
In the old days, I myself used to feel a distinct
sense of weariness or langour if I did not get my
tea punctually at the usual hour. Once some 400
women and children had gathered together at a
certain celebration. The executive committee had
resolved against providing tea to the visitors.
The women, however, that had assembled there,
were in the habit of taking tea at 4 o’clock every
evening. The authorities were informed that, if
these women were not given their usual tea, they
would be too ill to move about, and, needless
to say, they had to cancel their original resolution!
But some slight delay in the preparation of the tea
led to a regular uproar, and the commotion subsided
only after the women had had their cup of tea! I
can vouch for the authenticity of this incident.
In another instance, a certain woman had lost
all her digestive powers under the influence of tea,
and had become a prey to chronic headaches;
but from the moment that she gave up tea her
health began steadily to improve. A doctor of
the Battersea Municipality in England has declared,
after careful investigation, that the brain-tissues
of thousands of women in his district have been
diseased from excessive use of tea. I have myself
come across many instances of health being ruined
by tea.
Coffee does some good against Kapha (phlegm)
and Vatha (‘wind’), but at the same time it weakens
the body by destroying the vital fluid, and by
making the blood as thin as water. To those people
who advocate coffee on the ground that it is beneficial
against “phlegm” and “wind”, we would
recommend the juice of ginger as even better for
the purpose. And, on the other hand, let us remember
that the evil effects of coffee are too serious to
be counter-balanced by its good. When the blood
and the vital fluid are poisoned by a stuff, can there
be any hesitation in giving it up altogether?
Cocoa is fully as harmful as coffee, and it contains
a poison which deadens the perceptions of the skin.
Those people who recognise the validity of moral
considerations in these matters should remember
that tea, coffee and cocoa are prepared mostly by
labourers under indenture, which is only a fine
name for slavery. If we saw with our own eyes
the oppressive treatment that is meted out to the
labourers in cocoa plantations, we should never
again make use of the stuff. Indeed, if we enquire
minutely into the methods of preparation of all our
articles of food, we shall have to give up 90% of
them!
A harmless and healthy substitute for coffee (tea
or cocoa) can be prepared as follows. Even
habitual coffee-drinkers will be unable to perceive
any difference in taste between coffee and this
substitute. Good and well-sifted wheat is put
into a frying-pan over the fire and well fried, until
it has turned completely red, and begun to
grow dark in colour. Then it is powdered
just like coffee. A spoon of the powder is then
put into a cup, and boiling water poured on to it.
Preferably keep the thing over the fire for a
minute, and add milk and sugar, if necessary, and
you get a delicious drink, which is much cheaper
and healthier than coffee. Those who want to
save themselves the trouble of preparing this
powder may get their supply from the Satyagraha
Ashram, Ahmedabad.
From the point of view of diet, the whole mankind
may be divided into three broad divisions.
(1) The first class, which is the largest, consists
of those who, whether by preference or out of
necessity, live on an exclusive vegetable diet.
Under this division come the best part of India, a
large portion of Europe, and China and Japan.
The staple diet of the Italians is macaroni, of the
Irish potato, of the Scotch oatmeal, and of the
Chinese and Japanese rice. (2) The second class
consists of those who live on a mixed diet. Under
this class come most of the people of England, the
richer classes of China and Japan, the richer
Mussalmans of India, as well as those rich Hindus
who have no religious scruples about taking meat.
(3) To the third class belong the uncivilised
peoples of the frigid zones, who live on an exclusive
meat diet. These are not very numerous, and
they also introduce a vegetable element into their
diet, wherever they come in contact with the
civilised races of Europe. Man, then, can live on
three kinds of diet; but it is our duty to consider
which of these is the healthiest for us.
An examination of the structure of the human
body leads to the conclusion that man is intended
by Nature to live on a vegetable diet. There is the
closest affinity between the organs of the human
body and those of the fruit-eating animals. The
monkey, for instance, is so similar to man in shape
and structure, and it is a fruit-eating animal. Its
teeth and stomach are just like the teeth and
stomach of man. From this we may infer that
man is intended to live on roots and fruits, and not
on meat.
Scientists have found out by experiments that
fruits have in them all the elements that are
required for man’s sustenance. The plantain, the
orange, the date, the grape, the apple, the almond,
the walnut, the groundnut, the cocoanut,—all these
fruits contain a large percentage of nutritious
elements. These scientists even hold that there
is no need for man to cook his food. They argue
that he should be able to subsist very well on
food cooked by the Sun’s warmth, even as all
the lower animals are able to do; and they say
that the most nutritious elements in the food are
destroyed in the process of cooking, and that those
things that cannot be eaten uncooked could not
have been intended for our food by Nature.
If this view be correct, it follows that we are at
present wasting a lot of our precious time in the
cooking of our food. If we could live on uncooked
food alone, we should be saving so much time and
energy, as well as money, all of which may be
utilised for more useful purposes.
Some people will doubtless say that it is idle
and foolish to speculate on the possibility of men
taking to uncooked food, since there is absolutely
no hope of their ever doing it. But we are not
considering at present what people will or will not
do, but only what they ought to do. It is only
when we know what the ideal kind of diet is that
we shall be able more and more to approximate
our actual to the ideal. When we say that a fruit-diet
is the best, we do not, of course, expect all
men to take to it straightway. We only mean that,
if they should take to this diet, it would be the best
thing for them.
There are many men in England who have tried
a pure fruit-diet, and who have recorded the results
of their experience. They were people who took
to this diet, not out of religious scruples, but simply
out of considerations of health. A German doctor
has written a bulky volume on the subject, and
established the value of a fruit-diet by many arguments
and evidences. He has cured many diseases
by a fruit-diet combined with open-air life. He
goes so far as to say that the people of any country
can find all the elements of nutrition in the fruits
of their own land.
It may not be out of place to record my own
experience in this connection. For the last six
months I have been living exclusively on fruits—rejecting
even milk and curd. My present dietary
consists of plantain, groundnut and olive oil, with
some sour fruit like the lime. I cannot say that my
experiment has been altogether a success, but a
period of six months is all too short to arrive at
any definite conclusions on such a vital matter as
a complete change of diet. This, however, I can
say, that, during this period, I have been able to
keep well where others have been attacked by
disease, and my physical as well as mental powers
are now greater than before. I may not be able to
lift heavy loads, but I can now do hard labour for a
much longer time without fatigue. I can also do
more mental work, and with better persistence and
resoluteness. I have tried a fruit-diet on many
sickly people, invariably with great advantage. I
shall describe these experiences in the section on
diseases. Here I will only say that my own experience,
as well as my study of the subject, has
confirmed me in the conviction that a fruit-diet is
the best for us.
As I have already confessed, I do not think for a
moment that people will take to a fruit-diet as soon
as they read this. It may even be that all that I
have written has no effect at all on a single reader,
but I believe it to be my bounden duty to set down
what I hold to be the right thing to the best of my
light.
If however, anybody does wish to try a fruit-diet,
he should proceed rather cautiously in order to
obtain the best results. He should carefully go
through all the chapters of this book, and fully
grasp the fundamental principles, before he proceeds
to do anything in practice. My request to
my readers is that they should reserve their final
judgments until they have read through all that I
have got to say.
A vegetable diet is the best after a fruit-diet.
Under this term we include all kinds of pot-herbs
and cereals, as well as milk. Vegetables are not
as nutritious as fruits, since they lose part of their
efficacy in the process of cooking. We cannot,
however, eat uncooked vegetables. We will now
proceed to consider which vegetables are the best
for us.
Wheat is the best of all the cereals. Man can
live on wheat alone, for in it we have in due
proportion all the elements of nutrition. Many
kinds of edibles can be made of wheat, and they
can all be easily digested. The ready-made foods
for children that are sold by chemists are also
made partly of wheat. Millet and maize belong
to the same genus, and cakes and loaves can also
be made out of them, but they are inferior to wheat
in their food-value. We will now consider the
best form in which wheat may be taken. The
white “mill flour” that is sold in our bazars is
quite useless; it contains no nutriment at all. An
English doctor tells us that a dog which was fed
solely on this flour died, while other dogs which
were fed on better flour remained quite healthy.
There is a great demand for loaves made of this
flour, since men eat merely to satisfy their palate,
and are rarely moved by considerations of health.
These loaves are devoid of taste and nutriment, as
well as of softness. They become so hard that
they cannot be broken by the hand. The best form
of flour is that which is made of well-sifted wheat in
the grind-mill at home. This flour should be used
without further sifting. Loaves made of it are
quite sweet to the taste, as well as quite soft. It
also lasts for a longer time than the “mill flour”,
since it is far more nutritious, and may be used in
smaller quantities.
The loaf sold in the bazars is thoroughly
useless. It may be quite white and attractive in
appearance, but it is invariably adulterated. The
worst of it is that it is made by fermentation.
Many persons have testified from experience that
fermented dough is harmful to health. Further,
these loaves being made by besmearing the oven
with fat, they are objectionable to Hindu as well
as Mussalman sentiment. To fill the stomach with
these bazar loaves instead of preparing good
loaves at home is at best a sign of indolence.
Another and an easier way of taking wheat is
this. Wheat is ground into coarse grain, which
is then well cooked and mixed with milk and sugar.
This gives a very delicious and healthy kind of
food.
Rice is quite useless as a food. Indeed, it is
doubtful if men can subsist upon mere rice, to the
exclusion of such nutritious articles as dhall, ghee
and milk. This is not the case with wheat, for
man can retain his strength by living on mere
wheat boiled in water.
We eat the pot-herbs mainly for their taste. As
they have laxative powers, they help to purify the
blood up to a limit. Yet they are but varieties of
grass, and very hard to digest. Those who partake
too much of them have flabby bodies; they
suffer very often from indigestion, and go about
in search of digestive pills and powders. Hence, if
we take them at all, we should do so in moderation.
All the many varieties of pulse are very heavy,
and hard of digestion. Their merit is that those
who eat them do not suffer from hunger for a long
time; but they also lead to indigestion in most
cases. Those who do hard labour may be able
to digest them, and derive some good out of them.
But we who lead a sedentary life should be very
chary of eating them.
Dr. Haig, a celebrated writer in England, tells
us, on the basis of repeated experiments, that the
pulses are injurious to health, since they generate
a kind of acid in the system, which leads to several
diseases, and a premature old age. His arguments
need not be given here, but my own experience
goes to confirm his view. Those, however, who
are unable or unwilling to eschew the pulses
altogether, should use them with great caution.
Almost everywhere in India, the spices and
condiments are freely used, as nowhere else in the
whole world. Even the African negroes dislike
the taste of our masala, and refuse to eat food
mixed with it. And if the Whites eat masala,
their stomach gets out of order, and pimples also
appear on their faces, as I have found from my
own experience. The fact is that masala is by no
means savoury in itself, but we have so long been
accustomed to its use that its flavour appeals to us.
But, as has been already explained, it is wrong to
eat anything for its mere taste.
How comes it, then, that masala is so freely eaten
by us? Admittedly, in order to help the digestion,
and to be able to eat more. Pepper, mustard,
coriander and other condiments have the power of
artificially helping the digestion, and generating a
sort of artificial hunger. But it would be wrong to
to infer from this that all the food has been thoroughly
digested, and assimilated into the system.
Those who take too much of masala are often found
to suffer from anaemia, and even from diarrhea. I
know a man who even died in the prime of youth
out of too much eating of pepper. Hence it is quite
necessary to eschew all condiments altogether.
What has been said of masala applies also to
salt. Most people would be scandalised at this
suggestion, but it is a fact established by experience.
There is a school in England who even
hold the view that salt is more harmful than most
condiments. As there is enough of salt in the
composition of the vegetables we use, we need not
put any extra salt into them. Nature herself
has provided just as much salt as is required for
the upkeep of our health. All the extra salt that
we use is quite superfluous; all of it goes out of
the body again in the form of perspiration, or in
other ways, and no portion of it seems to have any
useful function to perform in the body. One
writer even holds that salt poisons the blood. He
says that those who use no salt at all have their
blood so pure that they are not affected even by
snake-bite. We do not know if this is a fact or
not, but this much we know from experience, that,
in several diseases like piles and asthama, the
disuse of salt at once produces appreciably beneficial
results. And, on the other hand, I have not
come across a single instance of a man being any
the worse for not using salt. I myself left off the
use of salt two years ago, and I have not only
not suffered by it, but have even been benefitted in
some respects. I have not now to drink as much
water as before, and am more brisk and energetic.
The reason for my disuse of salt was a very
strange one: for it was occasioned by the illness
of somebody else! The person whose illness led to
it did not get worse after that, but remained in the
same condition; and it is my faith that, if only
the diseased person himself had given up the use
of salt, he would have recovered completely.
Those who give up salt will also have to give up
vegetables and dhall. This is a very hard thing
to do, as I have found from many tests. I am
convinced that vegetables and dhall cannot be properly
digested without salt. This does not, of
course, mean that salt improves the digestion, but
it only appears to do so, just as pepper does,
although ultimately it leads to evil consequences.
Of course, the man who entirely gives up the use
of salt may feel out of sorts for a few days; but, if
he keeps up his spirits, he is bound to be immensely
benefitted in the long run.
I make bold to regard even milk as one of the
articles to be eschewed! This I do on the strength
of my own experience which, however, need not be
described here in detail. The popular idea of the
value of milk is a pure superstition, but it is so
deep-rooted that it is futile to think of removing it.
As I have said more than once, I do not cherish the
hope that my readers will accept all my views; I do
not even believe that all those who accept them in
theory will adopt them in practice. Nevertheless,
I think it my duty to speak out what I believe to be
the truth, leaving my readers to form their own
judgments. Many doctors hold the view that milk
gives rise to a kind of fever, and many books have
been written in support of this view. The disease
bearing germs that live in the air rapidly gain an
entrance into the milk, and render it poisonous, so
that it is very difficult to keep milk in a state of
perfect purity. In Africa elaborate rules have
been laid down for the conduct of the dairies,
saying how the milk should be boiled and preserved,
how the vessels should be kept clean, and so
on. When so much pains have to be taken in this
matter, it is certainly to be considered how far it
is worth while to employ milk as an article of
food.
Moreover, the purity or otherwise of the milk
depends upon the cow’s food, and the state of its
health. Doctors have testified to the fact that
those who drink the milk of consumptive cows
fall a prey to consumption themselves. It is
very rare to come across a cow that is perfectly
healthy. That is to say, perfectly pure milk is
very hard to obtain, since it is tainted at its
very source. Everybody knows that a child
that sucks the breast of its mother contracts any
disease that she might be suffering from. And
often when a little child is ill, medicine is administered
to its mother, so that its effect might reach
the child through the milk of her breast. Just in
the same way, the health of the man who drinks
the milk of a cow will be the same as that of the
cow itself. When the use of milk is fraught with
so much danger, would it not be the part of wisdom
to eschew it altogether, especially when there are
excellent substitutes? Olive oil, for instance
serves this purpose to some extent; and sweet
almond is a most efficient substitute. The almond
is first soaked in hot water, and its husk removed.
Then it is well crushed, and mixed thoroughly well
with water. This gives a drink which contains all
the good properties of milk, and is at the same
time free from its evil effects.
Now let us consider this question from the point
of view of Natural law. The calf drinks its
mother’s milk only until its teeth have grown; and
it begins to eat as soon as it has its teeth. Clearly,
this is also what man is intended to do. Nature does
not intend us to go on drinking milk after we have
ceased to be infants. We should learn to live on
fruits like the apple and the almond, or on wheat
roti, after we have our teeth. Although this is
not the place to consider the saving in money that
might be effected by giving up milk, it is certainly
a point to be kept in mind. Nor is there any
need for any of the articles produced from milk.
The sourness of lime is quite a good substitute for
that of buttermilk; and as for ghee, thousands of
Indians manage with oil even now.
A careful examination of the structure of the
human body shows that meat is not the natural
food of man. Dr. Haig and Dr. Kingsford have
very clearly demonstrated the evil effects of meat
on the body of man. They have shown that meat
generates just the same kind of acid in the body as
the pulses. It leads to the decay of the teeth, as
well as to rheumatism; it also gives rise to evil
passions like anger, which, as we have already
seen, are but forms of disease.
To sum up, then, we find that those who live on
fruits alone are very rare, but it is quite easy to
live on a combination of fruits, wheat and olive
oil, and it is also eminently conducive to sound
health. The plantain comes easy first among the
fruits; but the date, the grape, the plum and the
orange, to name only a few, are all quite nourishing,
and may be taken along with the roti. The roti
does not suffer in taste by being besmeared with
olive oil. This diet dispenses with salt, pepper,
milk and sugar, and is quite simple and
cheap. It is, of course, foolish to eat sugar for
its own sake. Too much sweetmeat weakens the
teeth, and injures the health. Excellent edibles
can be made of wheat and the fruits, and a combination
of health and taste secured.
The next question to consider is how much food
should be taken, and how many times a day. But,
as this is a subject of vital importance, we will
devote a separate chapter to it.
There is a great divergence of opinion among
doctors as to the quantity of food that we should
take. One doctor holds that we should eat to the
utmost of our capacity, and he has calculated the
quantities of different kinds of food that we can
take. Another holds the view that the food of
labourers should differ in quantity as well as in
quality from that of persons engaged in mental
work, while a third doctor contends that the prince
and the peasant should eat exactly the same
quantity of food. This much, however, will be
generally admitted, that the weak cannot eat just
as much as the strong. In the same way, a woman
eats less than a man, and children and old men eat
less than young men. One writer goes so far as to
say that, if only we would masticate our food
thoroughly well, so that every particle of it is
mixed with the saliva, then we should not have to
eat more than five or ten tolas of food. This he
says on the basis of numberless experiments, and
his book has been sold in thousands. All this
shows that it is futile to think of prescribing the
quantity of food for men.
Most doctors admit that 99% of human beings
eat more than is needed. Indeed, this is a fact of
everyday experience, and does not require to be
proclaimed by any doctor. There is no fear at all
of men ruining their health by eating too little;
and the great need is for a reduction in the
quantity of food that we generally take.
As said above, it is of the utmost importance to
masticate the food thoroughly well. By so doing,
we shall be able to extract the maximum of nutriment
from the minimum of food. Experienced
persons point out that the fæces of a man whose
food is wholesome, and who does not eat too
much, will be small in quantity, quite solid and
smooth, dark in colour, and free from all foul
smell. The man who does not have such fæces
should understand that he has eaten too much of
unwholesome food, and has failed to masticate it
well. Also, if a man does not get sleep at night, or
if his sleep be troubled by dreams, and if his tongue
be dirty in the morning, he should know that he
has been guilty of excessive eating. And if he
has to get up several times at night to make water,
it means that he has taken too much liquid food
at night. By these and other tests, every man can
arrive at the exact quantity of food that is needed
for him. Many men suffer from foul breath, which
shows that their food has not been well digested.
In many cases, again, too much eating gives rise to
pimples on the face, and in the nose; and many
people suffer from wind in the stomach. The root
of all these troubles is, to put it plainly, that we
have converted our stomach into a latrine, and
we carry this latrine about with us. When we
consider the matter in a sober light, we cannot help
feeling an unmixed contempt for ourselves. If we
want to avoid the sin of over-eating, we should
take a vow never to have anything to do with
feasts of all kinds. Of course, we should feed
those who come to us as guests, but only so as
not to violate the laws of health. Do we ever
think of inviting our friends to clean their teeth
with us, or to take a glass of water? Is not eating
as strictly a matter of health as these things?
Why, then, should we make so much fuss about
it? We have become such gluttons by habit that
our tongues are ever craving for abnormal sensations.
Hence we think it a sacred duty to cram
our guests with rich food, and we cherish the hope
that they will do likewise for us, when their turn
comes! If, an hour after eating, we ask a clean-bodied
friend to smell our mouth, and if he should
tell us his exact feelings, we should have to hide
our heads in utter shame! But some people are
so shameless that they take purgatives soon after
eating, that they might be able to eat still more or
they even vomit out what they have eaten in order
to sit down again to the feast at once!
Since even the best of us are more or less guilty
of over-eating, our wise forefathers have prescribed
frequent fasts as a religious duty. Indeed, merely
from the point of view of health, it will be highly
beneficial to fast at least once a fortnight. Many
pious Hindus take only one meal a day during
the rainy season. This is a practice based
upon the soundest hygienic principles. For, when
the air is damp and the sky cloudy, the digestive
organs are weaker than usual, and hence
there should be a reduction in the quantity of food.
And now we will consider how may meals we
may take in the day. Numberless people in India
are content with only two meals. Those who do
hard labour take three meals, but a system of four
meals has arisen after the invention of English
medicines! Of late, several societies have been
formed in England and in America in order to
exhort the people to take only two meals a day.
They say that we should not take a breakfast early
in the morning, since our sleep itself serves the
purpose of the breakfast. As soon as we get up in
the morning we should prepare to work rather than
to eat. We should take our meal only after working
for three hours. Those who hold these views
take only two meals a day, and do not even take
tea in the interval. An experienced doctor by
name Deway has written an excellent book on
Fasting, in which he has shown the benefits of dispensing
with the breakfast. I can also say from
my experience that there is absolutely no need to
eat more than twice, for a man who has passed
the period of youth, and whose body has attained
its fullest growth.
Exercise is as much of a vital necessity for man
as air, water and food, in the sense that no man
who does not take exercise regularly, can be perfectly
healthy. By “exercise” we do not mean
merely walking, or games like hockey, football,
and cricket; we include under the term all physical
and mental activity. Exercise, even as food, is as
essential to the mind as to the body. The mind is
much weakened by want of exercise as the body,
and a feeble mind is, indeed, a form of disease.
An athlete, for instance, who is an expert in
wrestling, cannot be regarded as a really healthy
man, unless his mind is equally efficient. As
already explained, “a sound mind in a sound
body” alone constitutes true health.
Which, then, are those exercises which keep the
body and the mind equally efficient? Indeed,
Nature has so arranged it that we can be engaged
in physical as well as mental work at the same
time. The vast majority of men on earth live by
field-labour. The farmer has to do strenuous bodily
exercise at any cost, for he has to work for 8 or 10
hours, or sometimes even more, in order to earn his
bread and clothing. And efficient labour is impossible
unless the mind is also in good condition. He
has to attend to all the many details of cultivation;
he must have a good knowledge of soils and
seasons, and perhaps also of the movements of the
sun, the moon, and the stars. Even the ablest
men will be beaten by the farmer in these matters.
He knows the state of his immediate surroundings
thoroughly well, he can find the directions by
looking at the stars in the night, and tell a great
many things from the ways of birds and beasts.
He knows, for instance, that rain is about to fall
when a particular class of birds gather together,
and begin to make noise. He knows as much of
the earth and the sky as is necessary for his
work. As he has to bring up his children, he must
know something of Dharma Sastra. Since he lives
under the broad open sky, he easily realises the
greatness of God.
Of course, all men cannot be farmers, nor is this
book written for them. We have however, described
the life of the farmer, as we are convinced
that it is the natural life for man. To the extent
to which we deviate from these natural conditions
must we suffer in health. From the farmer’s life
we learn that we should work for at least 8 hours
a day, and it should involve mental work as well.
Merchants and others leading a sedentary life
have indeed, to do some mental work, but their
work is too one-sided and too inadequate to be
called exercise.
For such people the wise men of the West have
devised games like cricket and football, and such
minor games as are played at parties and festive
gatherings. As for mental work the reading of
such books as involve no mental strain is prescribed.
No doubt these games do give exercise to
the body, but it is a question if they are equally
beneficial to the mind. How many of the best
players of football and cricket are men of superior
mental powers? What have we seen of the mental
equipment of those Indian Princes who have earned
a distinction as players? On the other hand, how
many of the ablest men care to play these games?
We can affirm from our experience that there are
very few players among those who are gifted
with great mental powers. The people of England
are extremely fond of games, but their own poet,
Kipling, speaks very disparagingly of the mental
capacity of the players.
Here in India, however, we have chosen quite a
different path! Our men do arduous mental work,
but give little or no exercise to the body. Their
bodies are enfeebled by excessive mental strain,
and they fall a prey to serious diseases; and just
when the world expects to benefit by their work,
they bid it eternal farewell! Our work should be
neither exclusively physical nor exclusively mental,
nor such as ministers merely to the pleasure of the
moment. The ideal kind of exercise is that which
gives vigour to the body as well as to the mind;
only such exercise can keep a man truly healthy,
and such a man is the farmer.
But what shall he do who is no farmer? The
exercise which games like the cricket give is too
inadequate, and something else has to be devised.
The best thing for ordinary men would be to keep
a small garden near the house, and work in it for
a few hours every day. Some may ask, “What
can we do if the house we live in be not our own?”
This is a foolish question to ask, for, whoever may
be the owner of the house, he cannot object to his
ground being improved by digging and cultivation.
And we shall have the satisfaction of feeling that
we have helped to keep somebody else’s ground
neat and clean. Those who do not find time for
such exercise or who may not like it, may resort to
walking, which is the next best exercise. Truly
has this been described as the Queen of all exercises.
The main reason why our Sadhus and Fakirs are
strong as a class is that they go about from one end
of the country to the other only on foot. Thoreau,
the great American writer, has said many remarkable
things on walking as an exercise. He says
that the writings of those who keep indoors and
never go out into the open air, will be as weak as
their bodies. Referring to his own experience, he
says that all his best works were written when
he was walking the most. He was such an
inveterate walker that four or five hours a day
was quite an ordinary thing with him! Our
passion for exercise should become so strong that
we cannot bring ourselves to dispense with it on
any account. We hardly realise how weak and
futile is our mental work when unaccompanied by
hard physical exercise. Walking gives movement
to every portion of the body, and ensures vigorous
circulation of the blood; for, when we walk fast,
fresh air is inhaled into the lungs. Then there is
the inestimable joy that natural objects give us,
the joy that comes from a contemplation of the
beauties of nature. It is, of course, useless to walk
along lanes and streets, or to take the same path
every day. We should go out into the fields and
forests where we can have a taste of Nature.
Walking a mile or two is no walking at all; at
least ten or twelve miles are necessary for exercise.
Those who cannot walk so much every day can at
least do so on Sundays. Once a man who was
suffering from indigestion went to the doctor to
take medicine. He was advised to walk a little
every day, but he pleaded that he was too
weak to walk at all. Then the doctor took him
into his carriage for a drive. On the way he
deliberately dropped his whip, and the sick man,
out of courtesy, got down to take it. The doctor,
however, drove on without waiting for him, and
the poor man had to trudge behind the carriage.
When the doctor was satisfied that he had walked
long enough, he took him into the carriage again,
and explained that it was a device adopted to make
him walk. As the man had begun to feel hungry
by this time, he realised the value of the doctor’s
advice, and forgot the affair of the whip. He then
went home and had a hearty meal. Let those who
are suffering from indigestion and kindred diseases
try for themselves, and they will at once realise the
value of walking as an exercise.
Dress is also a matter of health to a certain
extent. European ladies, for instance, have such
queer notions of beauty that their dress is contrived
with a view to straitening the waist and the
feet, which, in its turn, leads to several diseases.
The feet of Chinese women are deliberately
straitened to such an extent that they are smaller
even than the feet of our little children, and, as
a result, their health is injured. These two instances
show how the health may be affected by
the nature of the dress. But the choice of our
dress does not rest always in our hands, for we
have perforce to adopt the manners of our elders.
The chief object of dress has been forgotten, and
it has come to be regarded as indicative of a man’s
religion, country, race and profession. In this
state of things, it is very difficult to discuss the
question of dress strictly from the point of view
of health, but such a discussion must necessarily
do us good. Under the term dress, we include all
such things as boots and shoes, as well as jewellery
and the like.
What is the chief object of dress? Man in his
primitive state had no dress at all; he went about
naked, and exposing almost the whole body. His
skin was firm and strong, he was able to stand sun
and shower, and never once suffered from cold and
kindred ailments. As has already been explained,
we inhale the air not only through the nostrils, but
also through the numberless pores of the skin. So
when we cover the body with clothing, we are
preventing this natural function of the skin. But
when the people of the colder countries grew more
and more indolent, they began to feel the need to
cover their bodies. They were no longer able to
stand the cold, and the use of dress came into being,
until at length it came to be looked upon not
merely as a necessity, but as an ornament. Subsequently
it has also come to be regarded as an
indication of country, race etc.
In fact, Nature herself has provided an excellent
covering for us in our skin. The idea that the
body looks unseemly in undress is absurd, for the
very best pictures are those that display the
naked body. When we cover up the most ordinary
parts of our body, it is as though we felt ashamed
of them in their natural condition, and as though
we found fault with Nature’s own arrangement.
We think it a duty to go on multiplying the
trappings and ornaments for our body, as we grow
richer and richer. We ‘adorn’ our body in all
sorts of hideous ways, and pride ourselves on our
handsomeness! If our eyes were not blinded by
foolish habit, we should see that the body looks
most handsome only in its nakedness, as it enjoys
its best health only in that condition. Dress,
indeed, detracts from the natural beauty of the
body. But, not content with dress alone, man
began to wear jewels also. This is mere madness,
for it is hard to understand how these jewels
can add an iota to the body’s natural beauty.
But women have gone beyond all bounds of sense
or decency in this matter. They are not ashamed
to wear anklets which are so heavy that they
can hardly lift their feet, or to pierce their nose
and ears hideously for putting on rings, or to stud
their wrists and fingers with rings and bracelets
of several kinds. These ornaments only serve to
help the accumulation of dirt in the body; there is
indeed no limit to the dirt on the nose and ears.
We mistake this filthiness for beauty, and throw
money away to secure it; and we do not even
shrink from putting our lives at the mercy of
thieves. There is no limit to the pains we take to
satisfy the silly notions of vanity that we have
so sedulously cultivated. Women, indeed, have
become so infatuated that they are not prepared
to remove the ear-ring even if the ears are
diseased; even if the hand is swollen and suffering
from frightful pain, they would not remove
the bracelets; and they are unwilling to remove
the ring from a swollen finger, since they imagine
that their beauty would suffer by so doing!
A thorough reform in dress is by no means an
easy matter, but it is surely possible for all of us to
renounce our jewels and all superfluous clothing.
We may keep some few things for the sake of
convention, and throw off all the rest. Those who
are free from the superstition that dress is an
ornament can surely effect many changes in their
dress, and keep themselves in good health.
Now-a-days the notion has gained ground that
European dress is necessary for maintaining our
decency and prestige! This is not the place to
discuss this question in detail. Here it will be
enough to point out that, although the dress of
Europeans might be good enough for the cold
countries of Europe, it is hopelessly unsuited to
India. Indian dress, alone, can be good for Indians,
whether they be Hindu or Musalman. Our dress
being loose and open, air is not shut out; and
being white for the most part, it does not absorb
the heat. Black dress feels hot, since all the sun’s
rays are absorbed into it, and, in its turn, into
the body.
The practice of covering the head with the
turban has become quite common with us. Nevertheless
we should try to keep the head bare as far
as possible. To grow the hair, and to dress it by
combing and brushing, parting in the middle and
so on, is nothing short of barbarous. Dust and
dirt, as well as nits and lice, accumulate in the
hair, and if a boil were to arise on the head, it cannot
be properly treated. Especially for those who
use a turban, it would be stupid to grow the hair.
The feet also are common agents of disease.
The feet of those who wear boots and shoes grow
dirty, and begin to exude a lot of stinking perspiration.
So great is the stink that those who are
sensitive to smells will hardly be able to stand
by the side of one who is removing his shoes and
socks. Our common names for the shoe speak of
it as the “protector of the feet” and the “enemy
of the thorn” showing that shoes should be worn
only when we have to walk along a thorny path, or
over very cold or hot ground, and that only the
soles should be covered, and not the entire feet.
And this purpose is served excellently well by the
sandal. Some people who are accustomed to the
use of shoes often suffer from headaches, of pain in
the feet, or weakness of the body. Let them try
the experiment of walking with bare feet, and then
they will at once find out the benefit of keeping the
feet bare, and free from sweat by exposure to
the air.
I would specially request those who have carefully
read through the book so far to read through
this chapter with even greater care, and ponder
well over its subject-matter. There are still several
more chapters to be written, and they will, of
course, be found useful in their own way. But not
one of them is nearly as important as this. As
I have already said, there is not a single matter
mentioned in this book which is not based on my
personal experience, or which I do not believe to be
strictly true.
Many are the keys to health, and they are all
quite essential; but the one thing needful, above all
others, is Brahmacharya. Of course, pure air, pure
water, and wholesome food do contribute to health.
But how can we be healthy if we expend all the
health that we acquire? How can we help being
paupers if we spend all the money that we earn?
There can be no doubt that men and women can
never be virile or strong unless they observe true
Brahmacharya.
What do we mean by Brahmacharya? We mean
by it that men and women should refrain from
enjoying each other. That is to say, they should
not touch each other with a carnal thought, they
should not think of it even in their dreams. Their
mutual glances should be free from all suggestion
of carnality. The hidden strength that God has
given us should be conserved by rigid self-discipline,
and transmitted into energy and power,—not
merely of body, but also of mind and soul.
But what is the spectacle that we actually see
around us? Men and women, old and young,
without exception, are seen entangled in the coils
of sensuality. Blinded by lust, they lose all sense
of right and wrong. I have myself seen even boys
and girls behaving like mad men under its fatal influence.
I too have behaved likewise under similar
influences, and it could not well be otherwise. For
the sake of a momentary pleasure, we sacrifice in
an instant all the stock of vitality that we have
accumulated. The infatuation over, we find ourselves
in a miserable condition. The next morning,
we feel hopelessly weak and tired, and the mind
refuses to do its work. Then, we try to remedy the
mischief by taking all sorts of ‘nervine tonics’
and put ourselves under the doctor’s mercy for
repairing the waste, and for recovering the
capacity for enjoyment. So the days pass and
the years, until at length old age comes upon us,
and finds us utterly emasculated in body and
in mind.
But the law of Nature is just the reverse of this.
The older we grow, the keener should grow our
intellect also; the longer we live, the greater
should be our capacity to transmit the fruits of
our accumulated experience to our fellowmen.
And such is indeed the case with those who have
been true Brahmacharies. They know no fear of
death, and they do not forget good even in the
hour of death; nor do they indulge in vain complaints.
They die with a smile on their lips, and
boldly face the day of judgment. They are the
true men and women; and of them alone can it be
said that they have conserved their health.
We hardly realise the fact that incontinence is
the root-cause of all the vanity, anger, fear and
jealousy in the world. If our mind is not under
our control, if we behave once or more every day
more foolishly than even little children, what sins
may we not commit consciously or unconsciously?
How can we pause to think of the consequences
of our actions, however vile or sinful they may be?
But you may ask, “Who has ever seen a true
Brahmachary in this sense? If all men should turn
Brahmacharies, would not humanity be extinct, and
the whole world go to rack and ruin?” We will
leave aside the religious aspect of this question,
and discuss it simply from the secular point of
view. To my mind, these questions only bespeak
our weakness and our cowardliness. We have not
the strength of will to observe Brahmacharya, and,
therefore, set about finding pretexts for evading our
duty. The race of true Brahmacharies is by no means
extinct; but, if they were to be had merely for
the asking, of what value would Brahmacharya be?
Thousands of hardy labourers have to go and dig
deep into the bowels of the earth in search of
diamonds, and at length they get perhaps merely
a handful of them out of heaps and heaps of rock.
How much greater, then, should be the labour
involved in the discovery of the infinitely more
precious diamond of a Brahmachary? If the observance
of Brahmacharya should mean the ruin of the
world, why should we regret it? Are we God
that we should be so anxious about its future? He
who created it will surely see to its preservation.
It is none of our business to enquire if other people
practise Brahmacharya or not. When we turn
merchant or lawyer or doctor, do we ever pause to
consider what the fate of the world would be if all
men were to do likewise? The true Brahmachary
will, in the long run, discover for himself answers
to such questions.
But how can men engrossed by the cares of the
material world put these ideas into practice?
What shall the married people do? What shall
they do who have children? And what shall be
done by those people who cannot control their
lust? The best solution for all such difficulties
has already been given. We should keep this ideal
constantly before us, and try to approximate to it
more and more to the utmost of our capacity.
When little children are taught to write the letters
of the alphabet, we show them the perfect shapes
of the letters, and they try to reproduce them as
best they can. Just in the same way, if we steadily
work up to the ideal of Brahmacharya, we may
ultimately succeed in realising it. What if we have
married already? The law of Nature is that
Brahmacharya may be broken only when the husband
and wife feel a strong desire for a child.
Those who, remembering this law, violate Brahmacharya
once in four or five years cannot be said to
be slaves to lust, nor can they appreciably lose
their stock of vitality. But, alas, how rare are
those men and women who yield to the sexual
craving merely for the sake of an offspring! The
vast majority, who may be numbered in thousands,
turn to sexual enjoyment merely to satisfy their
carnal passion, with the result that children are born
to them quite against their will. In the madness of
sexual passion, we give no thought to the consequences
of our acts. In this respect, men are even
more to blame than women. The man is blinded
so much by his lust that he never cares to
remember that his wife is weak and incapable
of rearing a child. In the West indeed, people
have trespassed even against the claims of common
decency. They indulge in sexual pleasures, and
devise measures in order to evade the responsibilities
of parenthood. Many books have been
written on this subject, and a regular trade is
being carried on in providing the means of
preventing conception. We are as yet free from
this sin, but we do not shrink from imposing the
heavy burden of maternity on our women, and we
are not concerned even to find that our children
are weak, impotent and imbecile. Every time we
get children, we bless Providence, and so seek to
hide from ourselves the wickedness of our acts.
Should we not rather deem it a sign of God’s anger
to have children who are weak, sensual, crippled
and impotent? Is it a matter for joy that mere
boys and girls should have children? Is it not
rather a curse of God? We all know that the
premature fruit of a too young plant weakens the
parent, and so we try all means of delaying the
appearance of fruit. But we sing hymns of praise
and thanks-giving to God when a child is born of
a boy-father and a girl-mother! Could anything
be more dreadful? Do we think that the world is
going to be saved by the countless swarms of such
impotent children endlessly multiplying in India or
elsewhere in the world? Verily we are, in this
respect, far worse than even the lower animals; for,
the bull and the cow are brought together solely with
the object of having a calf. Man and woman should
regard it as sacred duty to keep apart from the
moment of conception up to the time when the
child has ceased to suck its mother’s breast. But
we go on in our merry fashion blissfully forgetful
of this sacred obligation. This incurable disease
enfeebles our mind and leads us to an early grave,
after making us drag a miserable existence for a
short while. Married people should understand
the true function of marriage, and should not
violate the law of Brahmacharya except with a
view to having a child for the continuation of
the race.
But this is so difficult under our present conditions
of life. Our diet, our ways of life, our common
talk, and our environments are all equally
calculated to rouse and keep alive our sensual
appetite; and sensuality is like a poison, eating
into our vitals. Some people may doubt the possibility
of our being able to free ourselves from
this bondage. This book is written not for those
who go about with such doubtings of heart, but
only for those who are really in earnest, and who
have the courage to take active steps for their
improvement. Those who are quite content with
their present abject condition may even be offended
to read all this; but I hope this will be of some
service to those who are heartily disgusted with
their own miserable existence.
From all that has been said, it follows that those
who are still unmarried should try to remain so;
but, if they cannot help marrying, they should do
so as late as possible. Young men, for instance,
should take a vow to remain unmarried till the age
of 25 or 30. We shall not explain here all the
benefits other than physical that result from this;
but those who want to enjoy them can do so for
themselves.
My request to those parents who may read these
pages is that they should not tie a mill-stone round
the necks of their sons by marrying them in their
teens. They should look also to the welfare of
their sons, and not only to their own interests.
They should throw aside all silly notions of caste-pride
or ‘respectability’, and cease to indulge in
such heartless practices. Let them, rather, if they
are true well-wishers of their children, look to
their physical, mental and moral improvements.
What greater disservice can they do to their sons
than compelling them to enter upon a married life,
with all its tremendous responsibilities and cares,
even while they are mere boys?
Then again, the true laws of health demand that
the man that loses his wife, as well as the woman
that loses her husband, should remain single ever
after. There is a difference of opinion among
doctors as to whether young men and women need
ever let their vital fluid escape, some answering
the question in the affirmative, others in the negative.
But this cannot justify our taking advantage
of it for sensual enjoyment. I can affirm, without
the slightest hesitation, from my own experience
as well as that of others, that sexual enjoyment is
not only not necessary for the preservation of
health, but is positively detrimental to it. All the
strength of body and mind that has taken long
to acquire, is lost altogether by the escape of the
vital fluid, and it takes a long time to regain this
lost strength, and even then there is no saying
that it can be thoroughly recovered. A broken
vessel may be made to do its work after mending,
but it can never be anything but a broken vessel.
As has already been pointed out, the preservation
of our vitality is impossible without pure air,
pure water, pure and wholesome food, as well as
pure thoughts. So vital indeed is the relation
between our health and the life that we lead that
we can never be perfectly healthy unless we lead
a clean life. The earnest man who, forgetting the
errors of the past, begins to live a life of purity
will be able to reap the fruit of it straightway.
Those who have practised true Brahmacharya
even for a short period will have seen how their
body and mind improve steadily in strength and
power, and they will not, at any cost, be willing to
part with this treasure. I have myself been guilty
of lapses even after having fully understood the
value of Brahmacharya, and have, of course, paid
dearly for it. I am filled with shame and remorse
when I think of the terrible contrast between my
condition before and after these lapses. But from
the errors of the past I have now learnt to
preserve this treasure in tact, and I fully hope, with
God’s grace, to continue to preserve it in the future;
for I have in my own person, witnessed the inestimable
benefits of Brahmacharya. I was married
early in life, and had become the father of children
as a mere youth. When, at length, I awoke to the
reality of my situation, I found myself sunk in the
lowest depths of degradation. I shall consider
myself amply rewarded for writing these pages if
at least a single reader is able to take warning
from my failings and experiences, and to profit
thereby. Many people have told me (and I also
believe it) that I am full of energy and enthusiasm,
and that my mind is by so means weak; some even
accuse me of rashness. There is disease in my
body as well as in my mind; nevertheless, when
compared with my friends, I may call myself perfectly
healthy and strong. If even after twenty
years of sensual enjoyment, I have been able to
reach this state, how much better should I have
been if only I had kept myself pure during those
twenty years as well? It is my full conviction that,
if only I had lived a life of Brahmacharya all
through, my energy and enthusiasm would have
been a thousandfold greater and I should have been
able to devote them all to the furtherance of my
country’s cause as of my own. If this can be
affirmed of an ordinary man like myself, how
much more wonderful must be the gain in power,—physical,
mental, as well as moral—that unbroken
Brahmacharya can bring to us!
When so strict is the law of Brahmacharya,
what shall we say of those guilty of the unpardonable
sin of illegitimate sexual enjoyment?
The evil that arises from adultery and prostitution
is a vital question of religion and morality and
cannot be fully dealt with in a treatise on health.
Here we are only concerned to point out how
thousands who are guilty of these sins are afflicted
by syphilis and other unmentionable diseases.
The inflexible decree of Providence happily condemns
these wretches to a life of unmitigated
suffering. Their short span of life is spent in
abject bondage to quacks in a futile quest after a
remedy that will rid them of their suffering. If
there were no adultery at all, there would be no
work for at least 50% of doctors. So inextricably
indeed has venereal disease caught mankind in its
clutches that even the best doctors have been forced
to admit that, so long as adultery and prostitution
continue, there is no hope for the human race. The
medicines for these diseases are so poisonous that,
although they may appear to have done some good
for the time being, they give rise to other and still
more terrible diseases which are handed down from
generation to generation.
In concluding this chapter, we will briefly point
out how married people can preserve their Brahmacharya
intact. It is not enough to observe the laws
of health as regards air, water and food. The man
should altogether cease to sleep in privacy with
his wife. Little reflection is needed to show that
the only possible motive for privacy between man
and wife is the desire for sexual enjoyment. They
should sleep apart at night, and be incessantly
engaged in good works during the day. They
should read such books as fill them with noble
thoughts and meditate over the lives of great
men, and live in the constant realisation of the
fact that sensual enjoyment is the root of all
disease. Whenever they feel a prompting for
enjoyment, they should bathe in cold water, so
that the heat of passion may be cooled down,
and be refined into the energy of virtuous activity.
This is a hard thing to do, but we have been born
into this world that we might wrestle with difficulties
and temptations, and conquer them; and he
who has not the will to do it can never enjoy
the supreme blessing of true health.
