The President. I have been requested to state that the well-known physician, Dr. Edward H. Clarke, who is too ill to be present here to-night, has written a long and interesting letter on the subject of this meeting, which will be published in the morning papers; and I desire that every citizen present will make a point of reading that letter.
LETTER OF DR. EDWARD H. CLARKE.
Hamilton A. Hill, Esq., Secretary, &c.
Dear Sir,—I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your note of the 2d inst., requesting me, in the name of the committee who have called a public meeting on the park question, to address to them a letter which shall contain my views upon "the necessity existing at the present time for action on this subject, and upon the Report of the Park Commissioners."
If my views are of any value to the community on this question, or if I could exert any influence, however little, in bringing about a result so necessary to the comfort, prosperity, and health of all the citizens of Boston, as the establishment of a public park within the limits of the city, I should esteem it not less a privilege than a duty to present those views, and exert that influence.
Among the many and weighty considerations that might be appropriately urged in favor of the establishment of a park in this city, three stand out so prominently, that their importance can scarcely be overestimated. These are, first, the sanitary, second, the educational, and, third, the economic aspects of the question. Let me call your attention briefly to these three points.
The first is the sanitary aspect of the park. The discussion of sewerage and drainage, and of the ventilation of sewers, drains, and houses, with which our community have latterly been made familiar, has impressed upon our citizens, to some extent, the importance of introducing pure air into our houses, and of keeping foul air out of them. The importance of such ventilation cannot be overstated. But we are in danger of forgetting that the importance of ventilating a city is as great as that of ventilating all the houses in it, with this difference, that if a city is not well ventilated, so as to bring fresh air into it, and to keep foul air and poisonous gases out of it, the ventilation of individual dwellings will be of little avail.
The foul air of the streets will not only envelop those who pass through them, but will penetrate the houses that line them, visiting alike the sick and the well, increasing the danger of disease to the former, and diminishing the health and strength of the latter. In proportion as a city increases in size, large open spaces should be reserved. Parks are the lungs of the city. They are more than this: they are reservoirs of oxygen and fresh air. They produce atmospheric currents, which sweep through and purify the streets. Parks not only offer oxygen to all who visit them, but distribute a large amount of this prime necessity of life everywhere in their neighborhood. Without open spaces appropriately placed, it is impossible, in a large city, to have well ventilated streets, and to keep the air of the houses sweet and clean. Let us remember, moreover, that bad ventilation means poisoned air, and that poisoned air is sure to be followed by a ghastly train of diseases, with an occasional pestilence to remind the inhabitants what a terrible thing it is to disregard sanitary laws.
Improved ventilation is by no means the only sanitary good that parks yield to a city wise enough to possess them. A fraction, and only a small fraction, of our population, are able to leave the city during the hot months of the year, for the country. When these favored ones reach Nahant, Swampscott, or Newport, or some modest farmhouse, or comfortable dwelling by the side of the many railroads that lead from the foulness of the city to the purity of the country, or of the mountains, how gladly and enthusiastically they speak of their escape from heat, discomfort, and disease, to coolness, comfort, and health! But the mass of the community,—the artisans and work-people, whose necessities compel them to remain within the limits of the city,—their families, children, sick ones and all, have at present no such escape from close and impure air.