Essay IX

Of the Relation of Man to the Surrounding Elements

     Local circumstances have been pointed out as of various
import; as dissuasives from, or as incentives to, action, as
occasions of success or disappointment to national enterprize, and
as more or less auspicious to the origin and progress of arts and
sciences. But there is, in the opinion both of the origin and
progress of arts and sciences. But there is, in the opinion both of
the vulgar and the learned, another and more immediate dependence
of the species on external things; which, presiding with various
effect over human nature itself, antecedently determines its
character.
     Our external frame, like every system of matter, is subject to
mechanical laws. It is liable, accordingly, to annoyance from all
the elements; and changes introduced into the body cannot,
consistently with the law of their union, be indifferent to the
mind. That state of the medium, that temperature of heat and cold,
those productions of soil, and species of aliment, which correspond
best with our corporeal fabric, tend to the freer and more vigorous
exercise of all the mental powers. Yet natural historians, who
describe man as an animal merely allow him in that capacity some
distinguishing prerogatives. While the elements swarm with life;
while earth, sea, and air are peopled with their proper
inhabitants; while different tribes have habitations assigned to
them in particular corners of the globe, where alone they can find
subsistence; man erects for himself a mansion in every country,
subsists on a variety of aliment prepared or unprepared by art, and
breathes with equal freedom in the frozen or in the burning zone.
Races of animals that existed in past times seem now to be totally
extinct. The largest and strongest of quadrupeds, according to M.
Buffon, has disappeared from the animal world; [Hist. Nat. tom.
xviii, p. 178] nor does he think it impossible that, consistently
with the order of nature, animals of one common stock may have been
so diversified and transformed by the vicissitudes of the globe, as
to constitute distinct species. The animals of the new and of the
old continent may have had one common original; and perhaps of man
alone can be said in the strictest sense,

          Genus immortale manet ----

The human frame at least is more fixed and immutable than any
other; and more exempted from that influence which prevails through
the gradations of animal and vegetable life.[A]
     There is no one country on the face of the earth which is
declared, by general consent, to be the fittest residence for man.
That influence of the heavens seems to be relatively the best,
which habit has rendered the most familiar. And to exchange of a
sudden one climate for another, is always hazardous for any tribe
or people. Yet the positive malignancy of no climate of the world
can be inferred from the dangers which ae so often consequent on
the migrations of mankind. Our physical habits are established or
dissolved by slow degrees; violent transitions seem repugnant to
nature, and often threaten our constitution with destruction. But
if it can resist the impetuosity of the shock, the body
accommodates itself by degrees to its new condition. Things
offensive become indifferent, or even agreeable; things noxious
innocent or salutary, and in time perhaps so essential, that no
danger were more to be apprehended than a return to antient habits.
Emigrants can learn only from experience the peculiarities of other
climates; and, in the course of that experience, they struggle with
a series of calamity, from which the natives of those climates are
exempt, and from which the posterity of those emigrants will be
exempt in all succeeding generations. If we may judge then from the
first impressions on our animal oeconomy, the external constitution
of nature in the different climates of the earth tends rather to
discourage than to promote the distant migrations of mankind. Yet,
in another view, it is this diversity of climate which accounts for
the dispersion of nations, and the general revolutions of conquest.
In a flourishing period indeed of civil and commercial arts, a
nation can hardly be encumbered with excessive population. But the
more simple ages are unacquainted with such variety of resources.
Bold adventure is ever more welcome to Barbarians, than the flow
proceedings of art; and they even scorn to accomplish by industry
what valour alone may effect. In this spirit was the answer of
Brennus to the Romans when questioned, at the siege of Clusium,
concerning his pretensions on Tuscany, [Tit. Liv. l.v. c. 36] þThat
his pretensions lay in his sword; and all things belonged to the
brave.þ He added also on more plausible foundations, after
reminding the Romans of some passages in their own story, that
lands which remained neglected, and which the natives were in no
condition to cultivate, could not be said to be exclusively pre-
occupied or appropriated by any people.
     In an exigency then, like that of the Transalpine Gauls, it is
natural for rude states to send forth colonies to people, or armies
to subdue the earth. And the incumbrance from population, which
forms such an exigency, will be chiefly felt in the severer
climates, and in the most ungrateful soil. Hence, in later times,
the irruption of the northern Barbarians who desolated an subdued
Europe. Their numbers, encreasing faster than their industry or the
productions of the soil could keep pace with, created a species of
necessity which, superior to all other considerations, authorized
their first movements. And the fortune of the first adventurers, by
raising expectation, instigated others to run a similar career. It
deserves however to be remarked, that the first hostile incursions
into a foreign country, have been usually made for the sake of
plunder merely, without any design of abandoning antient
possessions, or of forming new establishments. The first inroads of
the Barbarians into the Roman empire were conducted with this view
alone. But the desolation of one territory led to the desolation of
another more remote; till at length a long absence from home
reconciled these soldiers of fortune to other climes; or the
difficulties and dangers of a return, or the temptations of
superior affluence, retained them in countries more fertile than
their own, better cultivated, and more adorned. No longer content
with plunder, they seized upon the domains of the people subdued by
their victorious arms; and erected governments on new foundations,
with little regard to the policy of the vanquished. Free in their
own country, they maintained their freedom in the settlements they
acquired; armies were transformed into nations; and feudal systems
began to arise out of the arrangement of war. The connexions with
the parent state were gradually dissolved. And the posterity of
those emigrants, regardless of the country of their fore-fathers,
adhered to the governments whose protection they enjoyed, and to
the climates which gave them birth.
     Such migrations and establishments resulted from a condition
of society, to which no European state is likely to return for
ages. Switzerland perhaps alone is constituted in such
circumstances as seem to require a regular discharge of citizens.
Yet, without arts, without manufactures, without money, she has
established a species of commerce peculiar to herself, and actually
derives from the numbers of her people the means of subsistence.
She resorts not, like antient states, to migrations, to plunder, or
to conquest. While she cultivates peace, she subsists by war; whose
demands she so readily supplies by hiring out troops
indiscriminately to the neighbouring states; and this strange
policy of government is both the cause and the effect of a
flourishing population. Nor does here prosperity consist merely in
the abundance of people, or in an exemption from the miseries of
war. In the uninterrupted possession of internal harmony and
content, she rivals the most favoured nations. But if the general
circumstances of the modern resembled those of the antient world,
the Helvetic body, destitute of such resources, could disencumber
itself by no other expedients than migrations and offensive war.
     Upon the whole then we may observe, that the changes of
situation on the surface of the globe, so incident to tribes and
nations, far from authorizing any plea of local pre-eminence, serve
only to demonstrate the latitude allowed to the human constitution
in respect of the variety of climate and of ailment which
corresponds so happily with its texture.
     The power of the human body to redress itself, when annoyed by
the elements, is often astonishing. Under alterations of the medium
more violent, more sudden, more opposite, than climate ever
presents, it maintains an almost incredible equality in its own
temperature. From a series of late experiments, [See Experiments by
Charles Blagden, M.D. F.R.S. inserted in Phil. Trans. for 1775.]
conducted by a society of gentlemen every way qualified to inform
the Public, it appears that, when surrounded with air heated to 244
degrees on the scale of Fahrenheit, the heat of the animal body
deviates but little from its natural standard. In the conduct too
of these curious experiments, as well as in the unsolicited
experience of ordinary life, is displayed the tendency of habit to
correct and mitigate the effects of external annoyance.
     If it is not then intenseness alone, but rather vicissitude of
temperature, which is most apt to annoy our frame; it would seem
even reasonable to infer, that nations commonly reputed the most
subject to impressions from the external elements, are, in reality,
the most exempt from their dominion; and that it is not in our
variable and inconstant climates, but under a more permanent and
equal sky, that we ought to look for the freer and more
uninfluenced condition of the species.
     On the other hand, it might be contended that vicissitude
itself, when regular and progressive, like the return of the
seasons, becoming familiar to the body, shocks or incommodes it in
an inferior degree; and that no one state of the atmosphere, in our
temperate zones, has such intenseness and duration as to produce
sensible effects on the human frame. Without entering at present
into so nice a problem, let it be sufficient to observe, that habit
and violent transition, exclusively of other influence, account for
a number of appearances. But it is not pretended they account for
all; and how nicely soever advantages and disadvantages may be
balanced upon the whole, there are at least some distinctions among
mankind infallibly regulated by a local standard.
     In some climates of the world, the body arrives soon at
maturity, and hastens to a dissolution with proportionable
celerity. In other climates, a longer period is allowed both for
its progress and decline. In the ages of antiquity, the Britons
were remarkable for the longest, the Egyptians for the least
extended life; while the ordinary standard in other countries
deviated, as was supposed, more or less from these opposite
extremes. Consistently with the same order of second causes, modern
history informs us of a variety of people among whom the natural
term of life exceeds not, or even falls below, the standard of
Egypt; and the Britons yield, perhaps, in longevity to the more
northern nations. The balance of numbers, indeed, may not be
affected by such distinctions. If climates the most prolific are
also the most destructive to the human species, the rules of
proportion are not broken; and the encrease of mankind in one
country may be as effectually advanced by the prolongation of life,
as in another by a more abundant progeny. But, whether the law of
mortality be so adjusted or not to the law of generation, the
stated period of life is somewhat variable among nations. And, if
the facts were doubtful or equivocal in general history, the
influence in this respect of local situations, and of air of
different temper, might be ascertained from the public registers of
mortality in contiguous settlements, and under the same civil
oeconomy. The air of the Hague is reputed the best in Holland; the
air of Amsterdam the most malignant: and the duration of life, in
those two places, seems to correspond with this natural cause. To
correct such influences, there is, perhaps, some sovereign
antidote, some controuling regimen laid up, for future generations,
in the stores of philosophy. But from fact to possibility there
lies no appeal; and, in all ages of the world, the term of our
existence, though dependent on a multiplicity of causes, seems to
have had some reference to climate; and, in general, to have
increased with the latitude. Strength and vigour of body, till we
arrive at the limit of the Polar circle, are found to increase in
a similar progression.
     Stature and magnitude, on the other hand, are at least as
considerable in the warmer as in the colder regions. And the most
diminutive and dwarfish of the human race are perhaps the natives
of the frigid zone.
     The Patagonian stature, after exercising so long the
curiosity, the scepticism, the credulity of the Public, is at last
sufficiently ascertained, and seems not to violate, in any
marvellous degree, the usual description of man. But, as a contrast
to this, the world has been lately amused with an account of a
nation, in the island of Madagascar, where the ordinary stature
rises not above three feet and a half. It is not, however,
pretended that the Patagonians are eminent for intellectual
abilities above other tribes of Barbarians; and the little people
of Madagascar seem to have nothing dwarfish in the constitution of
their minds. They are described, by an intelligent Writer, [Eloge
de M. Commerson, par M. de la Lande.] as a warlike people, and a
match in genius, in conduct, and in enterprize, for the other
natives of the island. Yet, without impeaching so respectable
authority, we may be permitted to observe, that probably the same
illusion of imagination which magnified the dimensions of the human
figure in Patagonia, has diminished them in Madagascar. And the
only admissible conclusion is, that in the one country, as in the
other, there prevails a remarkable deviation from the usual
standard towards opposite extremes.
     The existence of such varieties in the description of man is
conformable to history, and to experience, and is in part deducible
from analogy and philosophic theory. But such varieties, though
resulting from the general and regular tenour of mechanical laws,
afford no criterion by which to ascertain the endowments of the
understanding among tribes or nations. Among the natives of the
same spot, similar distinctions abound, exclusive of all apparent
connexion with temper, with genius, or with capacity. No historian
has described that measure of animal strength, that symmetry of
outward form, or the natural term of existence which, in the course
of human life, is found most connected with the largest endowments
and accomplishments of the species. In every age and country these
combinations and assemblages are too dissimilar and various to form
the basis of any theory: or rather, such dissimilarity and variety
demonstrate the indifference of nature with regard to such co-
incidences in the system of man. Yet the history of human reason is
liable to be confounded with the history of mere animal
distinctions; as if national genius or capacity could be calculated
from the bills of mortality, from the gradations of colour in
different tribes, or from certain varieties in organical texture,
which, being either foreign to the mind, or corresponding equally
with all its perfections and infirmities, touch not the essentials
of human greatness.
     The Tartars and Chinese, between whom there is observed by
travellers, an exact resemblence in all the lineaments and
proportions of the body, discover little affinity in the genius or
complexion of the mind; or rather the resemblance, in the one
respect, is, not more conspicuous than the contrast in the other.
The former people are described as bold, warlike, independent,
lovers of toil, and of a ferocity approaching to brutality. The
latter, as an indolent and pacific race, prone to supperstition,
and to servile dependence; addicted to compliment, and extravagant
in all the ceremonials of behaviour. Thus the extremes of national
character may be combined with exterior appearances nearly similar.
     It is also worthy of observation, that palpable defects in the
animal constitution co-incide so often with the perfection of the
understanding; and palpable defects in the intellectual, with the
utmost perfection in all the animal powers. Some illustrious
examples of such coincidences occur among the characters of the
last age: an age, perhaps, as fertile of the intellectual talents
as the world has ever seen. One of these is Lord Falkland, whose
disadvantages in person are contrasted with excellence of mind, by
the noble Historian who has delivered his name down to posterity as
a model of perfection. Another is Sir Charles Cavendish, whose
character, as delineated by the same masterly hand, conveys a moral
lesson to posterity.[B]
     The Graces, according to the fine allusion of antiquity, are
often to be contemplated under the form of the Satyrs. Such
coincidences, which abound in every country, seem to announce the
peculiar character of the human mind, its independence on the laws
of mechanism, and its alliance with a nobler system.
     A disregard of this high prerogative has contaminated, in some
instances, the conduct of nations. Hence the policy of Sparta
authorised an institution the most shocking in the proceedings of
mankind; that institution of Lycurgus, by which children of a
delicate frame were condemned to instant death, from a supposed
connexion between intellectual and corporael infirmity. How
different is the wisdom of nature, which usually renders such
children the darling objects of parental care!
     Had the Spartan rule been adopted in our age, England had not
reared up a Lyttelton, nor Europe bred a Voltaire. But, in the eye
of reason and philosophy, this connexion disappears; and a policy
so repugnant to the first dictates of morality, derives no
countenance or apology from the history of individuals or of
tribes. If there subsists then no inseparable connexion, no
necessary or established harmony between the perfections of body
and mind, the inferences from analogy are destitute of solid
foundation; and the changes introduced into the former by external
impulse, will imply no corresponding changes in our moral frame.
     Soil and climate seem to act with a gradation of influence on
vegetable, animal, and intellectual nature. There are varieties of
configuration, equally commodious for the animal functions; and
varieties in our animal powers, equally consistent with the
exertion of all the nobler faculties. Man, therefore, by his rank
in the creation, is more exempted from mechanical dominion than the
classes below him; and even the beauty of his person derives its
arbitrary estimation from the variety of which the body is
susceptible, without detriment to its functions. An exalted mind in
a well-organized body, is like a fine picture in a good light. Yet
the exterior mechanism may be regarded, in some respects, as the
mere drapery of nature, wherein is displayed all the wantonness of
art; and which is usually no more decisive of the absolute
perfections of mankind, than the modes of artificial attire. But
the attire of nature, like the fashions of art, may prove
cumbersome and incommodious, not only for animal, but for
intellectual exertions; and certain consequences will arise from
that mysterious union which enters into so complicated an
existence, and connects it with the vegetable and with the animal
world.
     It deserves also to be observed, that the rank of man, which,
in so many respects, renders his constitution superior to dangerous
annoyance, renders it in one respect more vulnerable. An animal
feels only what disturbs the animal oeconomy. The scenery of
creation it regards with total indifference; but that scenery acts
on a human being in a peculiar manner, and, without annoying his
person, affects the sensibility and delicacy of his moral frame.
The organs of sound and sight are susceptible of impressions or
convention, interest, in an eminent degree, the imagination and the
passions. Hence the elements of natural language. Hence a moral
expression in music. Hence certain graces of proportion, figure,
motion; and all the fine connexions which form the foundations of
criticism in the elegant and polite arts.
     The objects with which the senses are conversant, become
emblematical to the imagination, and call forth a train of
corresponding emotions, that are never excited in the inferior
orders of animal life.
     Some predominant qualities in rude and savage tribes are to be
ascribed, in the opinion of ingenious writers, to the face of the
country they inhabit. The emotions in the breast of the savage
derive, it seems, a degree of wildness and ferocity from the chaos
which surrounds him; and a certain adjustment and embellishment of
the outward objects is requisite to dispel the gloom of life, to
enliven and exhilarate the spirits, to mollify the temper, and to
render it humane.

               ------- The attentive mind,
               By this harmonious action on her powþrs,
               Becomes herself harmonious.

     But this adjustment is not equally indispensable throughout
the habitable globe. For, independently of culture, the scene from
the and of nature is more or less magnificent, more or less
adorned. Here are immense deserts; there delicious plains. This the
region of clouds and storms; that of a more placid and benignant
sky. Here predominates the beautiful; the sublime. The emotions
hence generated correspond; and the tone of temper and of manners
is, if I may say so, in unison with the natural world. This species
of energy, which rises out of external things, exerts itself in its
full effect on man alone; and seems to be attended with
consequences in rude and savage life, analogous to those which
result, in the progress of society, from various style and
composition in the imitative and designing arts.
     Having thus stated the relations of man to the elements around
him, which appear to be various and complicated, it will be proper
to contemplate his resources, and to mark those distinguishing
prerogatives by which he endeavours to maintain or to restore his
independence, to re-act upon external things, and to become, in
some degree, the arbiter of his own happiness and perfection.

NOTES.

NOTE [A]

     The privileges of man as an animal are incontestible, and
wonderfully adapted to his superior rank in the creation. Nous
trouverons, says Mons. Buffon with equal truth and elegance, nous
trouverons que lþhomme est le seul des etres vivant dont la nature
soit assez forte, assez entendu, assez flexible pour pouvoir
subsister, se multiplier par-tout, et se preter aux influences de
tous les climats de la terre; nous verrons evidemment, quþaucun des
animaux nþa obtenu ce grand privilege; que loin de pouvoir se
multiplier par-tout, la plupart son bornes et confines dans des
certains climats, et meme dans des contrees particulieres. Lþhomme
est en tout lþouvrage du ciel; les animaux ne sont a beaucoup
dþegards que des productions de la terre.
                    Hist. Nat. tome xviii. p. 177.

     Other distinctions might be mentioned no less conspicuous.
Nature has fixed certain seasons at which the greater part of the
animal kind propagate their several species: while a similar
prerogative is vested in man at all seasons, and in all climates of
the world.
                    Vide Aristot. de Hist. Animal. l. v. c. 8.


     This distinction, in the school of Socrates, was insisted on
as an argument for a superintending Providence. To de, said that
master of wisdom,  
Xenoph. Mem. l. i. c. 4. þIt is not well ordered, that, while the
courtships of the grove are confined to one period of the year, the
period of our loves is not thus interrupted, and is prolonged to
declining age?þ


NOTE [B]

     I will beg leave to lay before the reader the eminent and
worthy character mentioned in the text, as it is drawn by the most
instructive, and perhaps the most faithful, historian of the last
age. þThe conversation says Clarendon, speaking of himself, the
Chancellor took most delight in, was that of Sir Charles Cavendish,
brother to the Marquis, who was one of the most extraordinary
persons of that age, in all the noble endowments of the mind. He
had all the disadvantages imaginable in his person, which was not
only of so small a size, that it drew the eyes of men upon him; but
with such deformity in his little person, and an aspect in his
countenance, that was apter to raise contempt than application: but
in this unhandsome or homely habitation, there was very lovely and
beautiful; cultivated and polished by all the knowledge and wisdom
that arts and sciences could supply it with. He was a great
philosopher in the extent of it, and an excellent mathematician,
whose correspondence was very dear to Gassendus and Descartes, the
last of whom dedicated some of his works to him. He had a very
notable courage, and the vigour of his mind so adorned his body,
that, being with his brother the Marquis in all the war, he usually
went out in all parties, and was present, and charged the enemy in
all battles with as keen a courage as could dwell in the heart of
man. But then the goodness of his disposition, the humility and
meekness of his nature, and the vivacity of his wit, was admirable.
He was so modest, that he could hardly be prevailed with to enlarge
himself on subjects he understood better than other men, except he
was pressed by his very familiar friends, as if he thought it
presumption to know more than handsomer men use to do. Above all,
his virtue and piety was such, that no temptation could work upon
him to consent to any thing that swerved in the least degree from
the precise rules of honour, or the most severe rules of
conscience.þ
               Life of Clarendon, Vol. III.

     Thus far the noble historian, who, in the last feature of the
character, seems to have drawn, by anticipation, the Cavendishes of
our days; whose inflexible integrity and patriotism appear in the
British senate; and whose hereditary virtues are worthy of the
house of Cavendish, and of the former age.