I no longer wonder the elegant arts are unknown here; the rigor of the climate suspends the very powers of the understanding; what then must become of those of the imagination?... Genius will never mount high, where the faculties of the mind are benumbed half the year.

我不再奇怪这里没有高雅的艺术;气候的严峻性使理智的力量完全丧失了;那么，那些想象的东西一定会变成什么样子呢?天才永远不会登上高峰，那里的心智官能半年都处于麻木状态。