lin system of "canalization" has been adopted in various
places in America. But many others might wisely follow their example,
notably the Parisians, whose sewerage system, despite the boasted
exhibition canal-sewer, is, like so many other things Parisian, of the
most primitive character and a reproach to present-day civilization.
It may be added that there are plenty of things exhibited in this museum
which the Germans themselves might study to advantage, for it must be
understood that the other hygienic conditions pertaining to Berlin are
by no means all on a par with the high modern standard of the sewerage
system. In the matter of ventilation, for example, one may find
admirable models in the museum, showing just how the dwelling and shop
and school-room should make provision for a proper supply of pure air
for their occupants. But if one goes out from the museum and searches in
the actual dwelling or shop or school-room for the counterparts of
these models, one will be sorely puzzled where to find them. The general
impression which a casual inspection will leave in his mind is that the
word ventilation must be as meaningless to the German mind as it is, for
example, to the mind of a Frenchman or an Italian. This probably is not
quite just, since the German has at least reached the stage of having
museum models of ventilated houses, thus proving that the idea does
exist, even though latent, in his mental equipment, whereas the other
continental nationalities seem not to have reached even this incipient
stage of progress. All over Europe the people fear a current of air as
if veritable miasm must lurk in it. They seem quite oblivious to any
systematic necessity for replenishing the oxygen supply among large
assemblies, as any one can testify who has, for example, visited their
theatres or schools. And as to the private dwellings, after making
them as nearly air-tight as practicable, they endeavor to preserve the
_status quo_ as regards air supply seemingly from season to season. They
even seem to have passed beyond a mere negative regard for the subject
of fresh air, inasmuch as they will bravely assure you that to sleep
in a room with an open window will surely subject you to the penalty of
inflamed eyes.
In a country like France, where the open fireplace is the usual means
employed to modify the temperature (I will not say warm the room),
the dwellings do of necessity get a certain amount of ventilation,
particu
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