Thus the action of close stoves and of hot surfaces or pipes of any kind is exactly the opposite of that attributed to them by Dr. Siemens. They dry the air, they dry the walls, they dry the ceiling, they dry the furniture and everything else in the house. In _our_ climate, especially in the infamous jerry-built houses of suburban London, this is a great advantage. Dr. Siemens states his American experience, and denounces such heating by convection because the close stoves _there_ made him uncomfortable. This was due to the fact that the winter atmosphere of the United States is very dry, even when at zero. But air, when raised from 0° to 60°, acquires about twelve times its original capacity for water. The air thus simply heated is desiccated, and it desiccates everything in contact with it, especially the human body. The lank and shriveled aspect of the typical Yankee is, I believe, due to this. He is a desiccated Englishman, and we should all grow like him if our climate were as dry as his.[30] The great fires that devastate the cities of the United States appear to me to be due to this general desiccation of all building materials, rendering them readily inflammable and the flames difficult of extinction. When an undesiccated Englishman, or a German endowed with a wholesome John Bull rotundity, is exposed to this superdried air, he is subjected to an amount of bodily evaporation that must be perceptible and unpleasant. The disagreeable sensation experienced by Dr. Siemens in the stove-heated railway cars, etc., were probably due to this. An English house, enveloped in a foggy atmosphere, and encased in damp surroundings, especially requires stove-heating, and the most inveterate worshipers of our national domestic fetish, the open grate, invariably prefer a stove or hot-pipe-heated room, when they are unconscious of the source of heat, and their prejudice hoodwinked. I have observed this continually, and have often been amused at the inconsistency thus displayed. For example, one evening I had a warm contest with a lady, who repeated the usual praises of a cheerful blaze, etc., etc. On calling afterwards, on a bitter snowy morning, I found her and her daughters sitting at work in the billiard-room, and asked them why. “Because it is so warm and comfortable.” This room was heated by an eight-inch steam-pipe, running around and under the table, to prevent the undue cooling of the indiarubber cushions, and thus the room was warmed from the middle, and equally and moderately throughout. The large reception-room, with blazing fire, was scorching on one side, and freezing on the other, at that time in the morning.