for an individual, and certainly impossible for a State, whose acts are jealously watched by powerful rivals.
So, after inquiries had been instituted in England, France, Russia, Prussia, Spain, Italy, America, and even Turkey, the suggestion of a submarine monitor was definitely rejected.
The monster appeared by fits and starts, in spite of the incessant fire of jokes directed against it by the comic press, and in this direction imagination went to the most absurd lengths in fantastic ichthyology. On my arrival at New York many people had done me the honour to consult me upon the phenomenon in question. I had already published in France a work in two volumes quarto, entitled “The Mysteries of the Great Ocean Depths.” This work, which was much relished by the scientific world, dubbed me a specialist in this somewhat obscure branch of natural history. My opinion was asked. So long as I could deny the reality of the occurrence I took refuge in absolute denial, but soon, driven to the wall, I was obliged to explain categorically; and “the Honourable Pierre Aronnax, Professor at the Museum in Paris,” was formally called upon by the New York Herald to pronounce an opinion.
I complied with the request, because I was unable to remain silent. I discussed the question in all its bearings, politically and scientifically, and I give below an extract from a well-digested article which I published in the issue of the 30th April.
“Thus,” said I, “after having examined one by one the various hypotheses, all other suppositions being rejected, we must necessarily admit the existence of a marine animal of great power.
