As far as my vision reaches I see no land, no water, no living thing, and everywhere it looks as though great waves of a tempestuous sea had climbed toward the sky and suddenly were frozen into immobility. Amid the swirl and commotion of the elements, avalanches of ice and snow are crashing downward from the crests of snow mountains, whose peaks tower toward the clouds. To my mind it is not only a sublime but an awful scene. I should think one might go mad if obliged to long remain amid such desolation and such tremendous sights and sounds. But, De L'Ester, once you mentioned the existence of a former open Polar Sea. Will you tell me of it? De L'Ester--As you please, madame, though but in a few words. At another time a member of the Band will speak of it at length. Our planet has experienced two Glacial periods. Previous to the first period there was at the then North Pole an unfrozen, but very limited sea. Twice through the activities of natural laws a slight tilting of our planet has occurred. During its existence, again and again the same catastrophe must repeat itself. Always accumulations of ice and snow at the North Pole preponderate over the same at the South Pole. The centre of gravity seeking an equilibrium, necessitates a changed position of the planet, which will account for the finding of tropical vestiges so very far north. Some of Earth's scientists very naturally have concluded that the glacial drift forced these vestiges to their present position, but through eminent scientists on our side of life we know that this is a mistaken idea. Were it possible for mortals to search under these tremendous accumulations of ice and snow, they would find the fauna and flora of a tropical region, and what would be more startling, the well preserved remains of very primitive humans and somewhat of their belongings. During our too brief hours of camaraderie, it is not practicable to note all that comes under our observation, but be assured that much that cannot be written you, more or less vividly will remember as food for thought through coming years of your mortal existence. Now take a last survey of the dreary expanse below us, to which you will not say good-bye, but au revoir, for, doubtless after you shall have been freed from the physical plane of being, under more favorable conditions you will revisit this scene of which you now have but a limited view. And now, mes amis, off for Ento. Gentol[a:], recently you inquired of Genessano if the Entoans composed poetry and he replied yes, but his modesty forbade his saying that previous to passing to the Spirit World he had attempted versification. We have prevailed upon him to recall some sad lines which we deem apropos to the object of our mission, and as on this ever wondrous magnetic current we speed toward Ento, he will recite them and I, to the best of my ability, will translate them into your language.