for besides the official meetings of the blind sub-congress, they had arranged several social evenings with much good music and recitation. All there seemed thoroughly happy. They attended the opening and closing meetings of the Congress, the Concerts, the Theatre, the National Costume Ball, etc. Mr. Robert Bergh, a quiet, good-humoured blind man, was our president, and much interesting information on blind matters was reported, and many subjects ardently discussed. Our ever-sprightly friend, Miss Melchoir, of Denmark, told us how she had started what is perhaps the first home for blind babies in Europe. It is now an important branch of the institution in which she lives and works. One morning, Dr. Privat came and spoke charmingly on Dr. Zamenhof, his interest in the blind, and his work as an oculist.

The Finns have the reputation of being a silent race. At first they seemed to be rather shy, but as the week wore on they became increasingly anxious to talk to their foreign visitors. One felt everywhere, in the streets, in the “Akceptejo,” in the blind school, that they are a seriously-minded folk, somewhat slow in thought and very cautious in adding up bills, but thoroughly trustworthy and keenly anxious to promote universal fellowship. They seem to be idealists with a strong love of poetry, which one of them attributed to the rhythmic nature of their language, but which I venture to think is an essential part of their character. Their voices, like those of the Swedes, are very clear, and the tone of their famous mixed choir, “Suomen Laulu,” which sang unaccompanied in the concert room and in the theatre, was as pure and thrilling as that of the best choirs of the north of England without the least suspicion of harshness. It was with real delight that I heard an old grey-bearded bard in the theatre chant some runes of the great epic, “Kalevala,” to a beautiful old—perhaps pre-historic—modal melody. Here, too, we heard much Finnish music, saw national dances, and enjoyed a Finnish play acted in Esperanto.

The temperature at Helsingfors during August is very pleasant, and the weather was very kind except for one wet morning and occasional showers. The air is fresh and invigorating until you get into the large halls, for the Finns seem to think that doors and windows are meant to be kept shut. They are doubtless quite right for nine months in the year, and the short summer does not give them time to cultivate a taste for draughts.

Helsingfors is essentially a modern town with good hotels and restaurants, electric light, good tram and telephone services, and many fine buildings in quite modern style. There are several nice promenades and parks where bands play in the evenings, and the streets are wide, though alas! they are paved generally with round cobbles which tire one’s feet and make the traffic noisy. The market, where one can buy country produce and household utensils, is open every day till noon, but so far as we could find the shops contained little that could not be bought in other towns in Europe, excepting, perhaps, some fine cut glass, said to be made in Finland.

The buildings in which our meetings were held were spacious, and the “akceptejo” (headquarters), where the Congress had Post office, Bank, books for sale, light refreshments and conversation rooms, was a general meeting place for Esperantists of all nations.

Drinks containing more than two-and-a-half per cent. of alcohol are prohibited by law. However, one hears thrilling stories of fishermen turned smuggler-millionaires, and one sometimes meets people who steer an erratic course.

The arrangements for the comfort and entertainment of the members of the Congress were perfect in every detail.

On Wednesday, August 16th, some sixty of us started for a tour through Finland. We had sleeping cars to Viborg, a much older town than Helsingfors, where we spent most of Thursday. The principal sight seems to be the museum, but they kept the finest exhibits on the upper floors, and as many of us