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DISCOVERY 



.weather, but we can understand what is meant by it ; 

 we recognise its phenomena. No scientific subject needs 

 less of the jargon or the conventions of science in being 

 expounded than this one. Its effects come within either 

 the experience or the imagination of us all ; we can 

 imagine an earthquake or a tornado or even a mosquito 

 bite, and we are able to follow without further explana- 

 tion that 105° in the shade of a moist country is quite 

 definitely warm. But besides interest the weather 

 possesses the gift of permanence. It changes with the 

 seasons, but the seasons do not change, or at least they 

 change little in the life-time of man. How few things 

 accurately described a hundred years ago could be 

 described in nearly identical terms to-day ! Climate is 

 one of the few. 



It might be thought that a subject of such interest and 

 such permanence must often have been described in 

 books, but no. Mr. Kendrew's is the first description in 

 English of the actual climate of the countries of the 

 earth considered regionally. There are a few books in 

 English which describe the climate of parts of the earth, 

 and there are all-embracing tomes in German, but till 

 now English geographers have hesitated in making a 

 comprehensive compilation. 



A work of this kind must be essentially a composition 

 from such materials as statistics, more or less adequate, 

 maps showing certain factors of climate, and regional 

 descriptions ; and the result must be largely dependent 

 on the nature of the original sources. But Mr. Kendrew 

 has done his work well. He has now given to the public 

 an informed and interesting general account of the 

 climate of the continents which may constitute a frame- 

 work into which detailed local descriptions may be 

 intelligently fitted. Behold, then, the author taking the 

 great round world in his hand, so to speak, and beginning 

 with Africa, gradually working round the globe ; telling 

 us of each country in turn, its changes of temperature, 

 its rainfall, its prevailing winds, and all the things em- 

 braced by climate ; illustrating his forty-eight chapters 

 with a hundred and fifty illustrations ; including many 

 tables of statistics, and quoting at times many vivid 

 descriptions of travellers of the weather at different parts 

 of the earth. It is impossible not to be interested in 

 his book. 



We will quote first of all a description by Borius, 

 included in the book, of a day in a very unpleasant climate, 

 Senegambia, in the rainy season : 



" Soon after sunrise the shade temperature is 80°. 

 The calm air gets hotter and hotter, and by 9 a.m. it is 

 unpleasant to walk about even with a sunshade. . . . 

 At midday the thermometer is still rising, and by i p.m. 

 it stands at 86°. ... By 4 p.m. the temperature is 88° ; 

 the sky is three-fourths clouded, and masses of cloud are 

 piling up on the horizon ; the wind often drops altogether. 

 The heat now feels excessive, and though after 4 p.m. 

 the thermometer hardly rises a degree, yet the heat seems 

 to be increasing considerably, and we are astonished 

 that the thermometer does not show a greater rise. We 

 perspire profusely on the slightest exertion. . . . We go 

 in again, but the heat indoors is overwhelming and we 



long desperately for a breeze. There is no need for a 

 hygrometer to show that the air is saturated with moisture. 

 It is this high humidity that makes the heat so over- 

 powering, although the actual temperature is not exces- 

 sive. 



" Nothing can be compared with the feeling of utter 

 prostration that overcomes a European. Though he 

 sits motionless in an arm-chair he perspires as after violent 

 toil ; his fatigue is not like what is felt after work, but 

 rather a weakness in the limbs, and especially in the 

 bones — an indescribable feeling of discomfort, which 

 precludes all movement, all bodily or mental work, but 

 yet forbids sleep. Clouds of mosquitoes swarm round 

 him and he feels suffocated. 



" At 10 p.m. it has fallen dead calm. The tempera- 

 ture still continues high and our discomfort becomes 

 more depressing than ever. We can neither read nor 

 work, to do so would require an effort of will which we 

 are incapable of making ; our mental energy is sapped 

 even more than our physical strength. Night drags on 

 in this painful way unless a thunder-storm falls and we 

 feel a salutarv freshness in the air. ..." 



Another unpleasant place is the Punjab in the summer. 



" A denizen of the temperate zone can hardly realise 

 the desiccating, truly scorching heat of the wind. When 

 exposed to it, one may imagine he is facing an open furnace. 

 The thermometer rises in the shade to over 120°. . . . 

 After 7 a.m., save of necessity, no European leaves his 

 house, and should business oblige him to do so, he must 

 protect himself from the sun with a sunshade and a thick 

 head-covering. ... At sunrise, or soon after 5 a.m., 

 houses must be closed, only a small door being left open 

 for communication with the outside world. So long as 

 the hot winds blow strongly and steadily, rooms may still 

 be kept in some measure cool by means of " tatties " or 

 grass screens set up in front of the doorway, and con- 

 tinually sprinkled with water, or by the fan vanes of the 

 so-called 'thermantidote,' which a servant keeps revolving 

 and sprinkles with water ; and at night the punkah is 

 worked. Whoever cannot provide himself with these 

 artificial appliances must suffer the daily torment of 

 insupportable and exhausting heat. Man and beast 

 languish and gasp for air, while even in the house the 

 thermometer stands day and night between 95° and 115°. 

 Little by little the European loses appetite and sleep ; 

 all power and energy forsake him. Vegetation suffers 

 equally ; almost all green things wither ; the grass seems 

 burnt up to the roots ; bushes and trees seem moribund ; 

 the earth is as hard as a paved highway ; the ground is 

 seamed with cracks ; and the whole landscape wears an 

 aspect of barrenness and sadness. At length, in June, 

 the hot winds cease to blow, and are followed by a calm ; 

 and now indeed the heat is truly fearful ; grass screens 

 and thermantidotes avail naught ; all things pine for the 

 rains ; but no rain, not even a shower, can we hope for, 

 till the south and east winds shall have set in." 



Senegambia and the Punjab, then, are undesirable 

 places for Europeans ; so too is Cherrapunji near the Bay 

 of Bengal. This is the wettest place in the world, its 



