It happens to be the most necessary preliminary in approaching this problem, to show how not to do it, for that, respectfully be it spoken, is what we have hitherto practiced, as results abundantly prove. Fallacies, both vulgar and scientific, obstruct our way. A fundamental fallacy respects the very nature of the work, which is supposed to be to get in fresh air. In point of fact, this care is both unnecessary and comparatively useless. Take care of the bad air, and the fresh air will take care of itself. Only make room for it, and you cannot keep it out. On the other hand, unless you first make room for it, you cannot keep it in; pump it in and blow it in as you may, you only blow it through, as the Jordan flows comparatively uncontaminated through the Dead Sea. This is a law of fluids that must be kept in view. The pure air is quite as ready to get out as to get in; while the air loaded with poisonous vapors is as sluggish as a gorged serpent, and will not budge but on compulsion. Such compulsion the grand system of wind suction, actuated by the sun, supplies on the scale of the universe; and this we must imitate and adapt for our more limited purposes.

It would seem as if we need not pause to notice so shallow though common a notion as that which usually comes in right here, namely, that confined air will move off somehow of itself, if you give it liberty; being supposed to be much like a cat in a bag, wanting only a hole to make its escape. Air is ponderable matter - as much so as lead - and equally requires force of some kind to set it or keep it in motion. But applied philosophy itself relies on a fallacious, or, at best, inadequate source of motive power for ventilation. It gravely prescribes ventilating flues and even holes, and promises us that the warmed air within the house will rise through these flues and holes, carrying its impurities away with it, from the pressure of the cooler and denser air without. But we very well know that the best of flues and chimneys will draw only by favor of lively fires or clear weather. They fail us utterly when most needed, in warm and murky weather, when the barometer is low, and the thin atmosphere drops, down its damp and dirty contents, burying us to the chimney tops in a pestilent congregation of vapors.

Nevertheless, so far as I can discover, these holes and flues, at best a little fire at the bottom of the latter, are the sole and all-sufficient expedients of science and architecture for ventilation to this day, in spite of their total failure in experience. I can find nothing in standard treatises or examples from philosophers or architects, beyond a theoretical calculation on so much expansion of air from so many units of heat, and hence so much ascensional force inferred in the ventilating flue - a result which never comes to pass, yet none the less continues to be cheerfully relied on. Unfortunately for the facts, they contradict the philosophy, and are only to be ignored with silent contempt. A French Academician's report on the ventilation of a large public building, lately reprinted by the Smithsonian Institution, states with absolute assurance and exactness the cubic feet of air changed per minute, with the precise volume and velocity of its ascension, by burning a peck of coal at the bottom of the trunk flue.

No mention is made of the anemometer or any other gauge of the result asserted, and we are left to the suspicion that it is merely a matter of theoretical inference, as usual; for every one who has had any acquaintance with practical tests in these matters knows that no such movement of air ever takes place under such conditions, unless by exceptional favor of the weather.

I have seen a tall steam boiler chimney induce through a four inch pipe a suction strong enough to exhaust the air from a large room as fast as perfect ventilation would require. But this, it is well known, requires four hundred or five hundred degrees of heat in the chimney. I never saw an ordinary domestic fire of coals produce any noticeable ventilating suction, without the use of a blower, urging the combustion to fury, and I presume nobody else ever did.

But, while nobody ever saw an active suction of air produced by the mere heat of a still or unexcited fire - unless the quantity of heat were on a very large scale - everybody has seen a roaring current sucked through the narrowed throat of a chimney or a stove by a blazing handful of shavings, paper, or straw. It is very remarkable, when you come to think of it, that the burning of an insignificant piece of paper, with less heat in it, perhaps, than a pea of anthracite, will cause a rush of air that a bushel of anthracite cannot in the least degree imitate. It is not only a curious but a most important fact. In short, it is the cardinal fact on which ventilation practically turns. But what is the nature of it? There are three factors in the phenomenon. In the first place, the mechanical peculiarity of flame, or gas in the moment of combustion, as compared with a gas like air merely heated, is an almost explosive velocity of ascent. The physical peculiarity from which this results is the intensity of its heat - commonly stated at 2,000 degrees, as to our common illuminating gas - acting instantaneously throughout its mass, just as in gunpowder.

The gas goes up the flue in its own flash, like the ignited charge in the barrel of a gun: the burning coals can only send, and by a leisurely messenger, namely, the moderately heated gases, and contiguous air, that rise only by the gravitation or pressure of the surrounding atmosphere.

And yet it is not the small flame itself that roars in the chimney but the rush of air induced by it. The semi-explosion of flame is but for an instant, though constantly renewed, and its explosive impulse cannot carry its light products of combustion very far through stationary and resistant air. It is the induction of air carried with it by such semi-explosive impulse (under proper mechanical conditions) that is strange to our observation and understanding, and is the second factor in the phenomenon we are accounting for and preparing to utilize.