I, the adventurous discoverer of the land without a sun, concluded the
sketch of my adventures by a brief reference to the malady which, though
giving no perceptible notice of its encroachments, might, in the opinion
of my medical attendant, prove suddenly fatal.

I had brought my little book to this somewhat melancholy close a few
years before the date of its publication, and in the meanwhile I was
induced to transfer my residence to Paris, in order to place myself under
the care of an English physician, renowned for his successful treatment
of complaints analogous to my own.

I was the more readily persuaded to undertake this journey,--partly
because I enjoyed a familiar acquaintance with the eminent physician
referred to, who had commenced his career and founded his reputation in
the United States; partly because I had become a solitary man, the ties
of home broken, and dear friends of mine were domiciled in Paris, with
whom I should be sure of tender sympathy and cheerful companionship. I
had reason to be thankful for this change of residence: the skill of Dr.
C_____ soon restored me to health. Brought much into contact with
various circles of Parisian society, I became acquainted with the persons
and a witness of the events that form the substance of the tale I am
about to submit to the public, which has treated my former book with so
generous an indulgence. Sensitively tenacious of that character for
strict and unalloyed veracity which, I flatter myself, my account of the
abodes and manners of the Vril-ya has established, I could have wished to
preserve the following narrative no less jealously guarded than its
predecessor from the vagaries of fancy. But Truth undisguised, never
welcome in any civilized community above ground, is exposed at this time
to especial dangers in Paris; and my life would not be worth an hour's
purchase if I exhibited her 'in puris naturalibus' to the eyes of a