Vol. XXXIV] Cyapman, In Memoriam: Daniel Giraud Elijot. 7 
began his studies of birds, Baird, Cassin, and Lawrence were the 
only working ornithologists in America. ‘There were no bird-clubs, 
no A. O. U., no Museum of Natural History in the city in which he 
resided. There was, however, in New York at that time a taxi- 
dermist, John G. Bell, whom it will be remembered accompanied 
Audubon in 1843 on the Upper Missouri Expedition. Many of Dr. 
Elliot’s specimens were preserved by Bell, to whom, indeed, was 
entrusted the task of mounting the Elliot collection after it had 
been acquired by the American Museum. It was the memorialist’s 
privilege to know Bell during the latter years of his life. He was a 
man of marked personality and ardent enthusiasms, and it is more 
than probable that he was of assistance to young Elliot, not only 
in the preparation and identification of specimens, but that he also 
was influential in developing his inherent love for the study of birds. 
In an address given before the Linnean Society on March 24, 
1914, acknowledging the receipt of the Society’s Medal of Honor, 
Dr. Elliot himself presents us with an interesting sketch of the con- 
ditions under which he began his life-work: 
“T do not suppose that my boyhood was different from that of 
any other lad who had been inoculated with the virus that was to 
strengthen and increase in power more and more with the passing 
years, until it should dominate and control his entire life. I 
began to make a collection of birds — why I began I have no idea, 
probably could not help it — and when it verged toward comple- 
tion I did not know what to do with it, for there was no one of my 
age anywhere to be found who sympathized with me in my pursuit, 
or with whom I could rejoice upon the acquisition of some rare 
specimen; I was practically alone. My cousin Jacob Giraud, the 
author of the “Birds of Long Island,”’ had just entered upon the 
close of his career, and wrote no more; Audubon, with decayed 
mental faculties had entered upon the last year of his life; DeKay 
had died in Albany, and in all the cities and within the boundaries 
of our great state there was but one working ornithologist, George 
Newbold Lawrence, a man greatly older than myself, whose sons 
were my friends and companions, but who had not inherited their 
father’s scientific taste, and their interest in birds was simply 
that of shooting and eating them; a gastronomic fancy shared in 
by all the rest of the population. ...In Massachusetts there were 
