Inquiry immediately makes it clear that man must first have come to know iron through meteorites. Except for the great masses at Ovifak in Greenland, which are outside the question, iron from earthly sources is not known to occur in the native state. It does, however, occur in metallic form in meteorites (FIG. 2) and is the only metal to do so. In this form it may be found in solid lumps of metal weighing as much as 50 tons (Bacubirito), 36½ tons (Ahnighito), or 15⅔ tons (Chupaderos). But of course most of it occurs in much more manageable sizes—in pieces as large as a man’s head, a hen's egg, a pea, or only as dust. But all meteorites are not solid iron, Very many are a mixture of iron and stone (FIGS. 1, 3) or what is to all intents and purposes merely stone (FIG. 4), and so useless to man as a source of iron. All meteorites fall into one of these three classes.

In connexion with the publication of the report on the neolithic settlement at Koln-Lindenthal I undertook, in the autumn of 1933, with the support of the Notgemeinschaft der deutschen Wissenschaft, two months’ exploration in Hungary, Rumania and Jugoslavia. Apart from museum researches in prehistory the chief object of this journey was to study the building methods of the primitive peasant cultures in these countries. In compiling the report on the ‘band keramik’ settlement at Koln-Lindenthal it was found necessary, in order to elucidate many of the finds, to compare them with ethnographic material from settlements peopled by primitive peasants in modern Europe. This method proved no less helpful than when employed earlier by Oelmann, Menghinl and others in dealing with other prehistoric studies. Prehistoric cultures invariably comprise objects the use of which can only be ascertained by comparison with cognate ethnographic or cultural material. For, owing to the conservative character of the peasant, modern primitive peasant cultures have retained certain structures and institutions which are derived, without a doubt, from archaic, even neolithic prototypes. Comparison of modern material with our prehistoric finds by no means postulates a direct historic connexion between the two, especially when the objects compared are widely separated in place, culture, nationality and race. Rather is ethnography called in to furnish a sound basis for assumptions about our finds by relating them to similar phenomena of modern times.

Roman barrows have long been known on the Continent and in R this country, but until recent years they have hardly received the attention they deserve. In the forties and fifties of last century a number of Roman barrows suffered from the jaunty zeal of tophatted antiquaries and their attendant ladies who, as at the opening of the Holborough barrow in 1844, contrived to pass the time ‘at intervals between digging and pic-nicing, in games of various descriptions … and in other amusements’, but who were sometimes glad of the shelter ‘afforded by the hole we had ourselves dug … in which we managed so to interlace parasols and umbrellas … as to form a tolerably impenetrable roof over our heads’.

Few places in the world have given rise to more fantastic speculation than this volcanic island, 70 square miles in area, lying in the Pacific Ocean, lat. 27° 10′ s., long. 109° 20′ w. Actually the so-called ‘mysteries of Easter Island’, or rather the explanations which have been offered, are not the work of trained men of science. It is natural that the huge statues, standing erect as they do in a naked landscape against a background of black and yellow, should have appealed to the poetical imagination. But those who wish to face with candour the problems presented by certain parts of the world may well be annoyed when the poets’ lyrical love of mystery becomes the starting-point of speculation. The best students of Easter Island have always told us that it was Polynesian and could only be explained by Polynesia. The evidence that we have now obtained is merely an addition to what was already a formidable pile. Nevertheless we expect that before long others will come forward again with tales of a lost continent of Lemuria, submerged beneath the waters of the Pacific; and that Easter Island is one of its peaks, peopled with Lemurian idols!

The principal questions concerning the origin and chronology of Anglo-Saxon sculpture are still awaiting their final settlement. As there is so little external evidence for dating the monuments, it seems probable that only such a method as that so successfully adopted by Mlle. Henry in her book on Irish sculpture can offer a useful approach to the problems they raise. This method implies a separate analysis of each decorative element, research as to its origin, and a comparison wherever possible of its various evolutionary stages with better dated examples in other arts or other countries. The arrangement of the different motives in series can be collated by the evidence offered when they occur on the same monument, and by this means at least approximate dates for single monuments can be obtained.

If the description of the 6th century Massalian Periplus, preserved in the Ora Maritima of Rufus Festus Avienus,l does not refer to Tarragona, as almost all scholars agree with Professor Bosch Gimpera2 in believing, then one can only say that to no other city of the Spanish coast can that account of its walls be applied with greater appropriateness.

Seldom does it happen, as at Tarragona, that the ancient walls retain intact throughout the ages the embodiment of history amid the modern life of the city, and nowhere else with such charm and grandeur as that of Cesse with its true Iberian atmosphere. Usually the huge blocks of the primitive cyclopean wall are overlaid with reconstructions and refacings of the Roman, Visigothic and Medieval periods and of the modern Spanish fortifications.

Aconcession to excavate the site of Tell el Amarna was given to the Egypt Exploration Society in 1920, and with the exception of two seasons the Society has sent an expedition there every year since that date. Beginning with the central town site, at the point where the Deutsche Orient-Gesellschaft had left it before the war, the work of the first two seasons was confined to the southern half of the city, although it included several important outlying buildings of a nondomestic character and the ‘Eastern Village’ of workmen’s houses. The discovery of the North Palace in 1923 turned the attention of the excavators to the distant end of the site, leading them to the building of a new house from which to work and to the discovery of other official buildings at the extreme north of the bay, and a group of houses connected with them. These last have not yet been completely excavated.