THE INFLUENCE OF FOOD.
Next, let us consider the agency of food in human development. The effect of food is to supply the body with caloric, which is essential to its life, and to repair the muscular fibres which are constantly undergoing waste in our daily activities. These two effects are produced by two different kinds of diet; carbonized food, such as animal flesh, fish, oils and fats, and oxidized food, which consists chiefly of vegetables. In hot climates, obviously, less carbonized food is required to keep up the necessary temperature of the body than in cold climates. Hence it is, that hyperborean nations subsist on whale's blubber, oil, and flesh, while the tropical man confines himself almost exclusively to a vegetable diet.
It is not my purpose here to enter into the relative effects of the different kinds of food on physiological and mental development; I desire, however, to call attention to the comparative facility with which carbonized and oxidized food is procured by man, and to note the effect of this ease or difficulty in obtaining a food supply, upon his progress. In warm, humid climates vegetation is spontaneous and abundant; a plentiful supply of food may, therefore, be obtained with the smallest expenditure of labor. The inhabitants of cold climates, however, are obliged to pursue, by land and water, wild and powerful animals, to put forth all their strength and skill in order to secure a precarious supply of the necessary food. Then, again, besides being more difficult to obtain, and more uncertain as to a steady supply, the quantity of food consumed in a cold climate is much greater than that consumed in a hot climate. Now as leisure is essential to cultivation, and as without a surplus of food and clothing there can be no leisure, it would seem to follow naturally that in those countries where food and clothing are most easily obtained culture should be the highest; since so little time and labor are necessary to satisfy the necessities of the body, the mind would have opportunity to expand. It would seem that a fertile soil, an exuberant vegetation, soft skies and balmy air, a country where raiment was scarcely essential to comfort, and where for food the favored inhabitant had but to pluck and eat, should become the seat of a numerous population and a high development. Is this the fact? "Wherever snow falls," Emerson remarks, "there is usually civil freedom. Where the banana grows, the animal system is indolent, and pampered at the cost of higher qualities; the man is sensual and cruel;" and we may add that where wheat grows, there is civilization, where rice is the staple, there mental vigor is relaxed.
Heat and moisture being the great vegetative stimulants, tropical lands in proximity to the sea are covered with eternal verdure. Little or no labor is required to sustain life; for food there is the perpetually ripening fruit, a few hours' planting, sometimes, being sufficient to supply a family for months; for shelter, little more than the dense foliage is necessary, while scarcely any clothing is required.
But although heat and moisture, the great vegetative stimulants, lie at the root of primitive progress, these elements in superabundance defeat their own ends, and in two ways: First, excessive heat enervates the body and prostrates the mind, languor and inertia become chronic, while cold is invigorating and prompts to activity. And in tropical climates certain hours of the day are too hot for work, and are, consequently, devoted to sleep. The day is broken into fragments; continuous application, which alone produces important results, is prevented, and habits of slackness and laxity become the rule of life. Satisfied, moreover, with the provisions of nature for their support, the people live without labor, vegetating, plant-like, through a listless and objectless life. Secondly, vegetation, stimulated by excessive heat and moisture, grows with such strength and rapidity as to defy the efforts of inexperienced primitive man; nature becomes domineering, unmanageable, and man sinks into insignificance. Indeed the most skillful industry of armed and disciplined civilization is unable to keep under control this redundancy of tropical vegetation. The path cleared by the pioneer on penetrating the dense undergrowth, closes after him like the waters of the sea behind a ship; before the grain has time to spring up, the plowed field is covered with rank weeds, wild flowers, and poisonous plants no less beautiful than pernicious. I have seen the very fence-posts sprouting up and growing into trees. So destructive is the vegetation of the Central American lowlands, that in their triumphal march the persistent roots penetrate the crevices of masonry, demolish strong walls, and obliterate stupendous tumuli. The people whose climate makes carbonized food a necessity, are obliged to call into action their bolder and stronger faculties in order to obtain their supplies, while the vegetable-eater may tranquilly rest on bounteous nature. The Eskimo struggles manfully with whale, and bear, and ice, and darkness, until his capacious stomach is well filled with heat-producing food, then he dozes torpidly in his den while the supply lasts; the equatorial man plucks and eats, basks in the open air, and sleeps.
UNMANAGEABLENESS OF REDUNDANT NATURE.
Here we have a medley of heterogeneous and antagonistic elements. Leisure is essential to culture; before leisure there must be an accumulation of wealth; the accumulation of wealth is dependent upon the food-supply; a surplus of food can only be easily obtained in warm climates. But labor is also essential to development, and excessive heat is opposed to labor. Labor, moreover, in order to produce leisure must be remunerative, and excessive cold is opposed to accumulation. It appears, therefore, that an excess of labor and an excess of leisure are alike detrimental to improvement. Again, heat and moisture are essential to an abundant supply of oxidized food. But heat and moisture, especially in tropical climates, act as a stimulant upon other rank productions, engendering dense forests, tangled brush-wood, and poisonous shrubs, and filling miasmatic marshes with noxious reptiles. These enemies to human progress the weaponless savage is unable to overcome.
It is, therefore, neither in hot and humid countries, nor in excessively cold climates, that we are to look for a primitive civilization; for in the latter nature lies dormant, while in the former the redundancy of nature becomes unmanageable. It is true that in the tropics of America and Asia are found the seats of many ancient civilizations, but if we examine them one after the other, we shall see, in nearly every instance, some opposite or counteracting agency. Thus, the Aztecs, though choosing a low latitude in proximity to both oceans, occupied an elevated table-land, in a cool, dry atmosphere, seven or eight thousand feet above the level of the sea. The river Nile, by its periodic inundations, forced the ancient Egyptians to lay by a store of food, which is the very first step toward wealth. The rivers of India are, some of them, subject to like overflowings, while the more elevated parts are dry and fertile.
Egypt was the cradle of European development. Long before the advent of Christianity, the fertile banks of the Nile, for their pyramidal tombs, their colossi, their obelisks and catacombs and sphinxes and temples, were regarded by surrounding barbarians as a land of miracles and marvels. Thence Greece derived her earliest arts and maxims. The climate of Egypt was unchangeable, and the inundations of the Nile offered a less uncertain water-supply than the rains of many other districts, and thus agriculture, while offering to the laborer the greater part of the year for leisure, was almost certain to be remunerative. Common instincts and common efforts, uniformity of climate and identity of interests produced a homogeneous people, and forty centuries of such changeless coming and going could not fail to result in improvement.
MR BUCKLE'S THEORY.