Good Health by Editor

Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Mar 13, 1879

Good Health.

By Editor

Pork;

OR THE DANGERS OF PORK EATING EXPOSED.

1. JUST at present, there is a great deal of interest manifested in the subject of pork-eating as connected with health. So numerous have been the cases of sudden death occurring during the past winter, the immediate cause of which was unmistakably traceable to the eating of pork, that the most observing people begin to entertain many very serious doubts as to the propriety of using as an article of diet that which is so liable to produce such direful consequences.

While the attention of the public is thus very wisely turned toward this subject in one of its most obviously dangerous aspects, we would invite a more careful investigation of the matter in some of its less apparent, but, possibly, quite as momentous bearings, as well as a proper consideration of the more threatening evils.

THE GENERAL USE OF PORK.

In this country, pork-raising is one of the great industries, and one of the most prolific sources of wealth. And since the supply is wholly regulated by the demand, it may be taken as a proper index of the prodigious quantities of swine's flesh which are daily required to satisfy the gustatory demands of the American people. No other kind of animal food is so largely used as is pork in its various forms of preparation. The Yankee always makes his Sunday breakfast of pork and beans, besides making the same article a prominent constituent of at least two meals each day during the rest of the week. Pork and hominy is almost the sole aliment of the Texan farmer; while in other Western States, pork and potatoes constitute the most substantial portion of the farmer's bill of fare. The accompanying dish may be hominy, beans, or potatoes; but the main reliance is pork in each case.

In the case of no other animal is so large a portion of the dead carcass utilized as food. Pork seems to be considered such a delicacy that not a particle should be wasted. The fat and lean portions are eaten fresh, or carefully preserved by salting or smoking, or both. The tail is roasted, the snout, ears, and feet, are pickled and eaten as souse; the intestines and lungs are eaten as tripe or made into sausages; black pudding is made of the blood; the liver, spleen, and kidneys, are also prized; the pancreas and other glands are considered great delicacies; while even the skin is made into jelly. In fact, nothing is left of the beast but its bristles, which the shoemaker claims. Surely, it must be quite an important matter, and one well-deserving attention, if it can be shown that an animal which is thus literally devoured, and that in such immense quantities, is not only unfit for food, but one of the prime causes of many loathsome and painful maladies. Let us examine the hog a little, and see what can be determined respecting his real nature, and his office in the economy of nature, if he has any.

A LIVE HOG EXAMINED.

Look at that object in a filthy mud hole by the roadside. At first you distinguish nothing but a pile of black, slimy mud. The dirty mass moves! You think of a reptile, a turtle, some uncouth monster reveling in his Stygian filth. A grunt? The mystery is solved. The sound betrays a hog. You hasten by, avert your face, and sicken with disgust. Stop, friend, admire your savory ham, your souse, your tripe, your toothsome sausage, in its native element. A dainty beast, isn't he?

Gaze over into that sty, our pork-eating friend. Have you done so before? And would you prefer to be excused? Quite likely; but we will show you a dozen things you did not observe before. See that contented brute quietly reposing in the augmented filth of his own ordure. He seems to feel quite at home doesn't he. Look at a little sharper and scrutinize his skin. Is it smooth and healthy? Not exactly so. So obscured is it with tetter, and scurf, and mange, that you almost expect to see the rotten mass drop off, as the grunting creature rubs it against any projecting corner which may furnish him a convenient scratching-place. As you glance around the pen, you observe that all such conveniences have been utilized until they are worn so smooth as to become almost inefficient.

Stir up the beast and make him show his gait. See how he rolls along, a mountain of fat. If he were human, he would be advised to chew tobacco for his obesity, and would be expected to drop off any day of heart disease. And so he will do, unless the butcher forestalls nature by a day or two. Indeed, only a few days ago a stout neighbor of his was quietly taking his breakfast from his trough, and grunting his infinite satisfaction, when, without a moment's warning, or a single premonitory symptom, his swinish heart ceased to beat, and he instantly expired without finishing his meal, much to the disappointment of the butcher who was anticipating the pleasure of quietly executing him a few hours later and serving him up to his pork-loving patrons. Suppose his death had been delayed a few hours, as is the case with the majority of hogs? or rather, suppose the butcher had got the start of nature a little, as he generally contrives to do?

But we have not half examined our hog yet. If you can possibly prevail upon yourself to sacrifice your taste in the cause of science, pork-loving friend, just clamber over into the reeking sty, and take a nearer view of the animal that is destined to delight the palate of some of your friends, perhaps your own. Make him straighten out his fore leg. Now observe closely. Do you see an open sore or issue a few inches above his foot, on the inner side? and do you say it is a mere accidental abrasion? Find the same on the other leg; it is a wise and wonderful provision of nature. But what are they? Grasp the leg high up, and press downward. Now you see, a mass of corruption pours out. That opening is an outlet of a sewer; and hence the offensive, scrofulous matter which discharges from it. Should you fill a syringe with mercury or some colored injecting-fluid, and drive the contents into this same opening, you would be able to trace all through the body of the animal little pipes communicating with it.

What must be the condition of the body of an animal so foul as to require a regular system of drainage to convey away its teeming filth? Sometimes the outlets get closed by the accumulation of external filth. Then the scrofulous, ichorous stream ceases to flow, and the animal quickly sickens and dies unless the owner speedily cleanses the parts, and so opens anew the feculent fountain, and allows the festering poison to escape.

What dainty morsels these same feet and legs make! What a delicate flavor they have, as every epicure asserts! Do you suppose the corruption with which they are saturated has any influence upon their taste and healthfulness?

Perhaps you are thoroughly disgusted now, and would like to leave the scene. Pause a moment. Now let us look at the inside of this wonderfully delicious beast!

(To be Continued.)