Newton says [(38)] that bird migration is "most strangely and unaccountably confounded by many writers with the subject of Distribution," but the very act of the bird which extends its range, the first step in distribution, is migration. The histories of present-day distribution and migration are irrevocably interwoven; as Mr P.A. Taverner remarks [(51)], "migration is a dispersal, and conversely, this dispersal, as it manifests itself, is migration," whilst distribution is the outcome of dispersal.

Broadly speaking, all birds migrate, though the length of the journey varies in different species, and in some cases in individuals of the same or closely allied species, from the merest change of elevation to a voyage almost as wide as the world itself. The sedentary red grouse nests on the moors, often less than 1000 feet above the sea, but "when snow-bright the moor expands" it feeds and resides in the cultivated valley, and as shown by the committee appointed to study grouse disease, not infrequently migrates from range to range across wide valleys. Many tropical birds, usually considered non-migratory, are subject to short movements, the origin and purpose of which is search for food and safe nesting places.

The knot breeds in countless numbers in Arctic Greenland and America, so far north that only a handful of ornithologists have traced its home; it travels south in summer so far as Damara Land. The Arctic tern has a northern breeding range extending perhaps as far north as that of any bird, and it has been taken far to the south of South America in the Antarctic regions; if the thesis that the further north the bird goes in summer the further south it travels in winter is correct, as it can be proved to be with some species, some of these terns must annually travel about 22,000 miles [(21)]. Between these extremes are an endless variety of distances travelled and methods of migration, with striking differences in the performances of individuals of the same species. Take one instance, a song thrush reared in a nest in our own garden. We may see and recognise this bird up to the middle of July, but what trained ornithologist can, yet, say with certainty where that bird will be by the end of the month or in three to four months time? We know that all through the winter there are some song thrushes near the house, and that they are the birds which not only begin to sing early but actually nest with us; we know too that before there is any marked immigration of northern thrushes there is a recorded emigration from our southern coasts, presumably of thrushes which have nested with us, beginning towards the end of July; further we know that there is an autumn immigration of Scandinavian or other northern song thrushes, sub-specifically distinct to the expert eye, and some, small and dark, whose origin is by no means proved, as well as later emigrations of birds to the Continent or Ireland, both regular and occasioned by exceptional weather. Will our young July thrush remain in England or will it join one of these streams, and if so which? We do not know yet. I repeat "yet," for the study of races, sub-species or local variations is commanding more and more attention; the patient work of the "splitters," scorned by the old school of "lumpers," will eventually solve many of the problems of to-day.

The ancients—a usefully ambiguous term—realised that birds migrated; our immediate forefathers of two or three centuries ago realised that certain birds vanished in winter and wondered how; and within modern times the phenomena of migration, the "mystery of mysteries," has been the subject of much study, speculation, and literary exposition. Indeed a full bibliography of migration would be a considerable volume. Even workers within the last few years have declared that certain phenomena were beyond human understanding, only to be explained by instinct, a word capable of most varied interpretation. In truth there is much to learn, much to which we must still answer—we do not know; but the speculative theory of yesterday is now either myth or fact, and the theory of to-day may be proved true and add something to the data of which knowledge is built. The wildest speculations, based on slender locally ascertained facts or on no foundation whatever except the fertility of the brain, have been offered as solutions of the mysteries; the literature of migration is a jumble of contradictions. John Legg, in 1780, said "In relating so many instances of unparalleled credulity, I confess I cannot suppress the irascible passion" [(33)], and Herr Otto Herman, only a few years ago, pointing out the ingenious dogmas "void of every firm foundation," says that "really it is a field in which every thinking ornithologist may create new theses to any extent and more or less incredible" [(31)].

Herr Herman's system of "ornithophænology," the accumulation of substantiated observations and facts, will not prove everything, but his work in Hungary, that of Dr Merriam and Mr Cooke in America, and of Mr W. Eagle Clarke in Britain, each aided by a numerous band of careful workers, are striking examples of what can be accomplished. Whatever errors future enlightenment may show in their conclusions their ascertained facts will remain positive knowledge; theirs is not what Herr Herman himself described as "pretended authority."

In order to grasp the problems of migration it is necessary to get rid of the puerile and insular aspect of the subject, namely that migrants are merely those birds which come to us, like the swallow and cuckoo in the spring, and those, like the fieldfare and brambling, which visit us in winter but are not with us in summer. The complication of the subject may be demonstrated by a rough classification of the migrants to be observed in the British Islands.

Arbitrary grouping of the members of an avifauna is only for general convenience; many species are represented in more than one group.

1. Permanent Residents: birds which remain in Britain all the year round. These are comparatively few in number, and largely consist of insular races of birds which perform regular and often long migration journeys in other parts of their range. Most, if not all, perform short migrations, in some cases only seasonal changes of altitude, spending summer on the hills and winter in the lowlands; examples, the red grouse and dipper. Others, like the tits and creepers are nomadic and more or less gregarious in the colder months. Few appear to remain in the same locality at all seasons, but possibly some of our British robins and song thrushes, both sub-species of migratory Continental forms, may be non-migratory.

2. Summer Residents: birds which nest in our islands, leaving in autumn for countries to the south, and return in spring. In addition to the regular summer visitors, which all leave in autumn, this group includes a number of wagtails, pipits, finches and other birds which are represented in winter in our islands by a proportion which remain.

3. Winter Residents: birds which nest to the north or east of our islands and arrive in Britain in autumn, leaving in spring for their breeding area. With birds like the fieldfare, brambling and jack snipe, which do not nest in Britain, must be included many (for example the robin, rook, song thrush and common snipe) which are also permanent residents.