One thing the
natives, it seems, insisted on: Sir Francis arrived in the city without
knowing his longitude; and they compelled him on leaving to accept
conditions that prevented him from finding his bearings till he was more
than a thousand miles away. What the nature of the climate was in this
strange city may be judged by the expressions employed in the little
book, which, translated, were equivalent to 'perfect,' 'Eden-like,'
'balmy,' 'delicious.' Once the author compares this antarctic city to
Venice--admittedly to the Venice of his imagination. No; Sir Francis had
nothing to brag of in this adventure; and in those days when to be
physically subdued, or in a contest to fail to subdue others, was a
humiliation or even a disgrace, he would have kept very quiet about the
whole affair; particularly as a future navigator could not have found
the city, even had Sir Francis told all that he knew. Now I mention
these reports only to show you that others have thought of warm
antarctic lands; and I could refer you to many other old stories and
traditions, highly suggestive of inhabited lands in the Antarctic Ocean,
on which lands a refined people dwell. I certainly expect to learn from
Peters facts of some importance to the world, if only he does not die,
or is not so delirious as to throw a shadow on the verity of his story,
even if he does disclose the wonders which I most assuredly believe that
he will if he lives but another day.
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