observed between the region in which all the early civilised nations appeared to have developed themselves. Those countries were, without an exception, plains or valleys traversed by navigable channels and irrigated by fertilising streams; moreover, they were all situated in or about the northern tropic, and their mean annual temperature did not differ 10 degrees. Like every capital of modern Europe they were situated on tertiary or alluvial soil. As a general consequence they were all distinguished by an extraordinary fertility. These facts led to the supposition that their early development was connected with the physical peculiarities of their respective districts, which supposition the lecturer strengthened by contrasting the condition of the nations lying to the north of them, and further confirmed by pointing out the difference in the habits, customs, and mode of life of tribes who left their native plains and went to dwell in more southern regions. He illustrated the latter point by a reference to the history of several nations, and remarked that although these examples did not, strictly speaking, prove that the character of a nation was owing to the nature of the country they inhabited, they raised a strong presumption in favour of such a relation. It was obvious that in all civilised countries the character of the people was largely impressed by numerous circumstances very remotely connected with its physical condition; indeed, the more civilised a nation was, the less its character was the exclusive and immediate product of the physical condition under which the people lived; but the habits and actions of people necessarily lower in the social scale exhibited more and more of the direct interference of nature, until at last, in some of the African tribes such interference was found paramount, determining their life almost as effectually as it did that of the lower The position of man (said the lecturer) considered merely as an animal living on the surface creation. of the earth, is in this respect quite different from But and he may fairly complain of being somewhat heavily taxed. But how does he supply it; from what food and by what means? The answer to this question leads directly to the consideration of the food consumed by man. Food serves, as you are aware, two purposes, supplying us in the first place with a certain proportion of that heat which we have just seen to be necessary to life; and in the second place repairing the waste which is constantly taking place in the mechanism of our frame. For each of these different purposes nature has supplied a different kind of food. The temperature of the body is maintained chiefly by a class of substances which we will call, for the sake of simplicity, "combustible substances." Almost everything which we eat contains a certain proportion of them, but in some kinds of food this proportion is so much greater, that whenever we have occasion for an additional supply of heat it is sound policy to consume that kind instead of any other. Now the Esquimaux, living in a cold climate, inasmuch as little heat is supplied to them from without, are obliged to consume a large quantity of combustible food, otherwise the temperature of their bodies would inevitably fall below the limits within which alone life is possible. And in northern latitudes, where there is scarcely any vegetation, there is only one source whence this food can be obtained,—the fat blubber and oil of fish, the flesh of the reindeer and sea-fowl. The quantity, however, which they manage to consume may fairly be called large. Mr. Somerville puts it down from 10 to 12 lbs. daily for each man. The account of the Moravian missionaries is less circumstantial, but more striking. It is not reduced to figures, but is presented to us in the form of a picture. After a general allusion to the gluttony which prevails, they go on to say "It is a mother's greatest joy to see her children gorge their fill and then roll upon the beach in order to make themselves capable of receiving more." This is a most instructive passage. We may assume that the Esquimaux ladies are not entirely destitute of natural affection. They would scarcely sit by in a state of visible gratification while their children were being gorged, rolled, and re-gorged, if such a proceeding were not good for them. And we have every reason to believe that it is; for independently of the testimony of science, which tells us that the necessity for a higher temperature involves an increased quantity of food, the mere fact of what we call gluttony being a universal habit goes far to prove it to be a necessary one. On these matters it is astonishing how just is the opinion even of the mass of mankind. With regard to the mixture of their food, they are guided by what Liebig calls "an unerring instinct," but which is no doubt an unconscious experience,-to form precisely that combination which is best suited to the various wants of the system. And we may be sure that the regulation of the quantity of food is effected with no less certainty than that of the quality. Individual examples are unfortunately peculiar to no race or nation; but that a whole people, young and old, men, women, and children together, should, for the mere gratification of an appetite eat themselves into such a state that it is only by the application of external mechanical aids that they are enabled to eat more, is not only an uncomfortable belief, but one for which we have no warrantry either in fact or reason. We may conclude, therefore, that an overruling physical necessity obliges these people to consume a quantity of food which, when compared with our own requirements, seems excessive. Now it unfortunately happens that the substances proper for their purpose are not readily met with, and the difficulty of obtaining them is of course exaggerated by the facts which have been first mentioned. When men eat more, the result is the same as if they had less. Whether the deficiency is caused by a diminished supply or an increased consumption is a matter of no practical moment; and in this case not only is there very little to begin with, but there is a large demand for what little there is. It will follow from hence that the population must necessarily be small. "Men," observes Adam Smith, "as they multiply in proportion to their means of subsistence, so they cannot possibly increase in a greater proportion than such means." "No point is better established," says Ricardo, "than that the supply of labourers is always ultimately in proportion to the means of supporting them." And M'Culloch speaks to the same effect. So that one general result of an extremely cold climate, and of the local causes connected therewith, a low temperature, will be to compel a small population. I must entreat you to weigh well the significance of this fact. From how many of the higher forms of civilisation is a nation debarred which only numbers a few thousand members? On the one hand, there can be none of the minute subdivisions which economise labour and cheapen its products; on the other, none of those results which are effected by the combination of many, in themselves, insignificant forces. There will be a constant and irrepressible tendency to throw each member of the state on his own resources; and there will be an inevitable widening of the gulf which separates him from his fellow men-for social union will be weak and political sympathy will be unknown. And as a secondary, but by no means remote, consequence, there will be much freedom and much ignorance; great independence of character, joined unfortunately, to a low intellectual standard. For insolation, while it conduces to freedom, is adverse to intelligence. A man's time is so much taken up with his necessary occupations that he has but little leisure, and without it he cannot possibly cultivate his mind. And an ad ditional reason is that owing to the thinness of the population he loses that opportunity of sharpening his intellect by the collision of conflicting opinions which is so readily afforded when men congregate in consider able numbers. |