The air is mountain-air,
_minus_ the aroma and stimulus of evergreen forests, and _plus_ the
miasma of miles of marsh and peat-land and the foulnesses of the city
exhalations. It is the thin air of a high elevation, pleasantly
bracing to persons so fortunate as to possess nerves of iron and lungs
of leather, but extremely irritating to sensitive brains and delicate
chests, and too exhausting, after a time, in its demands upon the most
abundant vitality. It is the boast of certain physicians in Munich
that consumption is rare in that city, but the weekly report of deaths
would seem to contradict this assertion. Certain it is that diseases
of the throat and lungs are very common, especially during the spring,
and that all the rest of the year the whole population suffers more or
less from catarrh. Perhaps if there be less of consumption than one
would expect to find in such a climate, it is because those who would
otherwise be its victims are carried off early by acute inflammation
of the implicated organs. "Of course, if these die in the beginning,
they cannot die at a later period," as a recent medical writer has
wisely and wittily pointed out to certain amateur statisticians who
would fain reduce the mortality of Munich by leaving out of view the
immense percentage of infant deaths.
The evil effects of the harsh air are increased by the clouds of dust
which the wind is continually raising in the broad graveled
streets--dust the more irritating to eyes, nose and lungs because
largely composed of lime, and which dries with marvelous rapidity
after the frequent heavy showers and protracted rains for which this
region is also remarkable.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94