I begin my manuscript in the palace of the Child of the Sun in a distant world, thus relieving a mind that is apt to grow weary of mere splendour and adulation by imagining the possibility of communicating on some future day with those who were not so long ago my fellow-men and fellow-mortals on the planet I have left, never to return. Though brightness and beauty are around me in my new abode, yet a constant longing for the drab unattainable past grips me with a feverish eagerness, so that I find some small solace in placing on record from time to time my impressions of a place and a people whose existence I had never suspected until a few hours before I was hurried, a humble subject out of…
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