was describing circles. We tried to explain this to the Lapps, but they did not understand a compass. The fishing line, however, convinced all, except the old man who was steering, that we were not going straight. He was perfectly certain that he knew where he was going and refused to give up the rudder. Everyone in the boat began shouting directions to him, and it was some time before we could calm the people down and induce the old man to give up the rudder. As I knew that we wanted to go somewhere north I thought it safest to steer due north, and in about half an hour we reached the shore. As luck would have it there was a large rock which the Lapps immediately recognized just where we struck the land. It appeared that we had come on in the right direction, and even the old Lapp looked on me with suspicious awe.

According to Gregori they thought the rock was marked on the compass, but I rather think they suspected magic, because they could not understand how anyone could steer, especially in a fog, without a previous knowledge of the country.

While the fog lasted we spent the time in sleep, and the next day we rowed on and reached Bella Guba, where there was a telegraph station, a post house, and one other house, besides a few Lapp huts. Along the shores of the Imandra, ringed plovers' were nesting, while a few other birds such as Arctic terns and gulls, generally seen by the sea, were flying about. The dense pine forests which stretched away from the lake to the rocky hills beyond were distressingly destitute of bird life. Now and again one would catch sight of a capercaillie,' a Siberian jay, or a pine grosbeak,10 but a walk in this dreary forest yielded little to compensate one for the torments in

Aegialitis hiaticula. Tetrao urogallus.

flicted by the mosquitoes. There were a few islands in the lake, but these were unproductive of birds, and we found that the marshes and the country just round them were the only really profitable places in which to spend our time.

We visited every marsh we could find or hear of near our route, and it was curious that while most of them contained many interesting birds, every here and there was one which was practically deserted, although apparently it differed in no way from the others.

All travellers in Lapland have something to say about biting flies, while a few in relating their experiences have been so led away by the subject that they have devoted a full two-thirds of their narratives to descriptions of mosquitoes and flies. Caution is therefore necessary in dealing with so tempting a subject, and I shall endeavor to confine my remarks on these interesting insects to the effect they had upon our work with the birds. Walking anywhere in a damp hot climate is somewhat of an effort, and soft mossy ground like most of that we had to travel over is notoriously tiring. Add to this the necessity of wearing continually thick gauntlets and a mosquito veil, and the conditions are not pleasant. But it was on the marshes that we were chiefly tried. There, mosquitoes and flies were in clouds, the damp heat was increased, and one sank knee-deep in moss and mire at every step. Under these circumstances, it will be understood that it took us some time to explore a marsh thoroughly. We shall never forget one awful day, just before a heavy thunderstorm, when we attempted to work a marsh, but found it quite impossible to go more than twenty yards without resting. A veil is a great

10 Pinicola enucleator.

handicap in shooting, and we found it exceedingly difficult to judge distance at all accurately. As to trying to watch birds in this country it was impossible to do so for any length of time. Directly one stopped, such a cloud of mosquitoes gathered round one's head that after a short time the bird could not be seen through the binoculars owing to the dense swarm of mosquitoes which quickly gathered in front of the glass.

The only times in which we were able to discard our veils were after we had beaten the mosquitoes out of the tent and fixed the curtain over the doorway, and when after rowing hard for half an hour or so on a lake we left the mosquitoes behind. At one place, however, we met a tiny black fly in such myriads that it became a far worse pest than the mosquitoes. This fly was so small that no ordinary netting would keep it out, and it crept into our hair and ears and bit so hard and unpleasantly that to escape going mad we were forced to pack up our things and run away from the place. But no one who has been in the interior of Lapland in summer can adequately describe the blood-sucking insects which possess that country.

As I have mentioned, the birds found on the marshes or bogs were the most interesting. They were chiefly wading birds, and many of them were well known to us as autumn and winter visitors to the shores and mud-flats of the English coast. The most common of these were whimbrels" and wood sandpipers, 12 while greenshanks 13 and reeves," although not so numerous, were to be found on most of the marshes. All these birds appeared to have young ones, and in different ways showed intense anxiety for the safety of their broods. The whimbrels and

11 Numenius phœopus.

13 Totanus glareola.

greenshanks were always shy and cautious, keeping at a respectful distance and uttering loudly and incessantly their wild clear notes. It is remarkable that all these wading birds, when at their breeding stations habitually perch on the trees. The whimbrels used to perch on the tops of the fir trees, and fluttering their wings, perhaps to help keep their balance, would whistle defiantly at us. In the same way all the wading birds we found perched on the trees when disturbed.

Every marsh, and indeed every bit of marshy ground, had a pair or two of wood sandpipers. Most fussy and noisy birds they were, and so bold and tame that when once disturbed they were difficult to get rid of, and would follow one about so closely, crying anxiously all the while, that one's presence soon became known to every other bird anywhere near. It was curious that although reeves were as tame and almost as plentiful in some places as wood sandpipers, we never saw a single ruff, as the male bird of this species is called. The ruff is polygamous, and it is well known that it keeps apart from its harem when the young are hatched, and takes no share or responsibility in the troubles and anxieties connected with its offspring. Had there been any ruffs in the country we explored, I think it hardly likely that we should have missed them, so we must conclude that they had entirely deserted their families and had already gone south towards their winter quarters.

From Bella Guba we rowed up the Imandra to Raznavolok near the northern end of the lake, and on some marshes near there we made our best finds. Hitherto we had found birds in this country by no means plentiful, and we had been much disappointed

18 Totanus canescens. 14 Machetes pugnax.

by the dearth of bird-life in the enormous pine forests as well as on the large lakes. We were delighted, therefore, to find a great many interesting birds breeding on these marshes. Two of these, the bar-tailed godwit" and the dusky redshank," especially attracted our attention, because it had been the privilege of but a very few ornithologists to see these birds in

their breeding haunts. On arriving at the largest marsh, which was a fivemile trudge from our camp, we arranged to work it systematically. However, we had scarcely gone a hundred yards before a strange bird rose from the ground. We shot it and found with delight that it was a male bar-tailed godwit in a beautiful summer plumage-a dark-brown back and a rich salmon pink breast. A long search near the place from which the bird had risen

as

was unproductive-neither its nests nor the eggs or young could be found. Then we began to search the marsh rather excitedly, and some way off we put up the female-not nearly so brilliant a bird, with a buff rather than salmon-colored breast. Still we could find neither eggs nor young, but at this were not very surprised, these marshes or bogs are profusely overgrown with a multitude of creeping plants, such as dwarf birch and many kinds of berry-bearing plants besides thick moss and grass. That day we found many other birds but saw no more godwits. On the next day, however, we carried out our plan of a systematic search and were successful in finding two more pairs of godwits. The male bird of one of these pairs was evidently in charge of young ones. He flew round us in a very excited way, and although he did not hover about quite near us, like the sandpipers and reeves, he often swooped

over our

heads with a rush and then retired to a tree-top and quivered his wings and Limosa lapponica.

called loudly. We kept as quiet as the flies would allow, and after a time I saw four young birds running on the ground at some distance. I rushed madly to them; they separated, and I managed to keep only two in view. These I caught, but the other two had hidden themselves so cleverly and quickly that although we knew just where they must be we could not discover them, and of course nothing would make them budge now that danger threatened. Young birds which run as soon as they are hatched know well the value of lying flat and keeping as still as stones. My friend afterwards found a brood on another marsh, but these he failed to catch. In each case the male bird was evidently attending to the young as the female was found at some considerable distance. These young godwits were only a few days old, and were beautifully clothed with soft down. They were great prizes, and, as far as I know, were the first young in down of the bar-tailed godwit to be obtained, although Mr. H. L. Popham has told me that he had seen them on the Yenesi in Siberia but had been unable to secure any.

The dusky or spotted redshanks which we discovered on several marshes were an even greater find than the godwits, because since the days of Wolley, fifty years ago, our knowledge of their breeding haunts has scarcely increased. Unfortunately, however, we were unable to discover either eggs or young of these birds notwithstanding hours of watching and searching. One day I watched a pair for two hours without success, so wary were the birds. When I was in view they flew wildly about uttering an incessant rattling alarm note. Then when I got well hidden they kept quiet, and my hopes of their visiting the nest or young revived. I waited. Meanwhile the mosquitoes gathered in thicker and

16 Totanus fuscus,

thicker swarms.

My veil getting disarranged touched the back of my neck, and immediately a cluster of mosquitoes settled on the place. A slight exclamation and an incautious movement were impossible to prevent, and the ever-watchful redshanks saw me and began their fuss and clamor again. I had to change my hiding-place and wait again, but the mosquitoes and the redshanks always got the best of it in the end, and at last I came to the conclusion that my patience was insufficient for the task. Knowledge.

The majority of wading birds have a larger and richer plumage in summer than in winter, and these redshanks were of a very handsome sooty-black color spotted with white. Their beaks were dark, but their legs were of a rich crimson, which looked very bright against their black breasts.

To find these two species in their breeding haunts was especially interesting to us, because both birds visit the shores of England on their migrations in spring and autumn.

Harry F. Witherby, F. Z. S.

Two things lie at the root of good manners as they are taught in the New Testament. The first is self-suppression,-the consciousness in the individual that he is part of a community whose welfare is of more importance than his capacity to do what he will with his own; and the second is sympathy, the power to be "all things to all men." To be without the first unfits a man for social life altogether; to be without the latter forces him to live his life, as it were, among foreigners, unable himself to speak any language but his own. Three writers in the New Testament concern themselves with courtesy-St. James, St. Paul, and St. Peter-and from their letters something like a philosophy of good breeding might be built up.

Before a man considers his attitude towards his neighbors he must consider his attitude towards himself. In this matter, St. Paul tells us, he ought to be just as possible. He is "not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think soberly." Evidently he is to avoid not only spiritual pride, but the fanciful self-accusations

so common among converts. Self-respecting individuals make honest communities, but if a society would spread it must avoid self-satisfaction, lest it become hidebound. "We are members one of another," writes St. Paul, therefore "let no man seek his own, but each his neighbor's good," for "no man liveth to himself." This theory the Apostle pushes very far, recommending his more cultivated converts to sacrifice to some extent their religious liberty rather than hurt the feelings of simpler people. Early Christian communities were made up of very varied elements. Nobles, artisans, and slaves, superstitious adherents of a decaying my. thology, devout Jews, and men of the world but newly dissatisfied with the cynical agnosticism in which they had been bred, met together to hear "the thing preached" and to eat a common meal in remembrance of a common Master. Without courtesy-a courtesy which would not stop short of sacrifice

these jarring elements could not have been kept within the bond of peace. We know, says the Apostle, writing to the Corinthians, "that an idol is

nothing at all," and that the observance of certain days and the eating or abstaining from certain foods are in themselves of no consequence. He is persuaded that all meats are clean and "all days the same," but if any man thinks differently, he is none the worse Christian for his intellectual mistake. Good manners require of the wise man that he should neither "despise" nor "set him at naught"; indeed, he had better forego the tangible advantage of his superior wisdom when in company with the scrupulous person. If his faith is purer than his neighbor's, he must "have it to himself before God," for the end of the commandment is not knowledge but charity. Every man is exhorted to enter as far as possible into the point of view of his neighbor, and to show him sympathy to the extent of his power, even if it be only the sympathy of indignation. "Who is offended and I burn not," we read; and again, "Who is weak and I am not weak." "Him that is weak in the faith," St. Paul goes on, "receive ye, but not to doubtful disputation." Disputations cannot avail to give peace to a weak man, but by entering into the pain of his doubt one man by his sympathy may possibly reveal to another the sympathy of God, and so teach him more about religion than if he could convince his intellect of all the articles of all the creeds.

With regard to conversation the New Testament lays down stringent Puritan rules. There is to be no "foolish talking" or "jesting which is not convenient"; no discussion of the conduct of those of whose doings "it is a shame to speak"; no wrangling or "clamor"; no fruitless argumentation, "dotings about questions, and strifes of words." "Cheerfulness" is continually enjoined; "murmuring," "bitterness," "malice," and "evil surmisings" are continually deprecated. "Courtesy" is to be observed at all times, and St. Peter ex

horts his friends not to forget it even during the fiery trials of persecution. Paul remembered it before his judges when, after wishing that Agrippa were a Christian, "and altogether such as himself," he added "except these bonds." He remembered it also on another notable occasion, when by his reassuring words he stopped the suicide of the jailor whose death might have meant his own escape.

"How near to good is what is fair," said Ben Jonson. Morals and manners are indeed inextricably interwoven, and it is often impossible to distinguish between charity and courtesy. There is one man in the New Testament whose name has come down to posterity solely on account of what we may perhaps be allowed to call his gentlemanlike conduct towards St. Paul. "The Lord give mercy to the house of Onesiphorus," the Apostle writes, "for he oft refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chain. But when he was in Rome he sought me out very diligently and found me. The Lord grant that he may find mercy in that day." The reiterated suggestion that "that day" would be one of mercy and not of triumph to the free man who was not ashamed to be seen with "the prisoner of the Lord" might make us suppose that St. Paul doubted if his friend belonged to the faith, and that he ascribed his action to his Christian courtesy rather than to his courteous Christianity.

The gulf existing between slaves and their masters in the first century was a difficult one for charity to bridge or courtesy to cover. The Apostolic attitude towards slavery is at first sight somewhat astonishing. The teachings of Christ strike at its roots; but with the possible exception of St. James, none of His immediate followers condemned slavery as an institution. Paul, it is true, declares that "in Christ" there is "neither bond nor

St.