atic pains, even head-aches and indigestion, brought on by cold,
are the consequences to susceptible persons of exposure to this wind,
either during the day or the night: so severe and so manifold are
the pains and aches which attend it, that I feel strongly inclined to
believe that Bombay, and not "the vexed Bermoothes," was the island
of Prospero, and that the plagues showered upon Caliban still remain.
Though the progress of acclimation can scarcely fail to be attended by
danger to life or limb, the process, when completed, seems to be very
effectual, since little or no pains are taken by the old inhabitants
to guard against the evil.
Some of the withdrawing-rooms of Bombay are perfectly open at either
end, and though the effect is certainly beautiful--a charming living
landscape of wood and water, framed in by the pillars at the angles of
the chamber--yet it is enjoyed at too great a risk. Dining-rooms are
frequently nearly as much exposed, the aim of everybody apparently
being to admit as great a quantity of air as possible, no matter from
what point of the compass it blows. Strangers, therefore, however
guarded they may be in their own apartments, can never emerge from
them without incurring danger, and it is only by clothing themselves
more warmly than can be at all reconciled with comfort, that they can
escape from rheumatic or other painful attacks.
These land-winds are also very destructive to the goods and chattels
exposed to them; desks are warped and will not shut, leather gloves
and shoes become so dry that they shrink and divide, while all
unseasoned wood is speedily split across. It is said that the hot
weather is never so fierce in Bombay as in Bengal, the sea-breezes,
which sometimes blow very strongly, and are not so injurious as those
from the land, affording a daily relief.
It may be necessary, for the advantage of succeeding travellers,
to say that, in passing down the Red Sea, in the autumn and winter
months, no danger need be apprehended from the effects of the climate
upon coloured silks. It was not possible for me to burthen myself with
tin cases, and I was obliged to put my wearing apparel, ribbons, &c,
into portmanteaus, with no other precaution than a wrapper of brown
paper. Nothing, however, was injured, and satin dresses previously
worn came out as fresh as possible: a circumstance which never happens
in the voyage round the Cape.
And now, while upon the subject of dress, I will fu
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