BISHOP IN ARCTIC CIRCLE

Taranaki Daily News, 27 May 1933, Page 10 (Supplement)

BISHOP IN ARCTIC CIRCLE

AN EXTENSIVE FLOCK. A TALK AT TROMSO. A traveller in the Far North has brought back' tidings of the most northerly bishopric in the world, whose seat is inside the Arctic Circle, in the little old Norwegian town of Tromso, says the Children’s Newspaper. Its bishop is the youngest in. all Scandinavia, not yet 50, and has need to be young, for his diocese is not one that can be governed from an armchair. His flock includes such unfamiliar folk as the Nomad Lapps of Finnmarken, the fishermen of the Lofoten Isles, and the' hunters of the Arctic regions who go after Polar bears,, seal, and walrus; and when he visits the remoter corners of his diocese he has sometimes to travel four days by steamer and two or three more in a sleigh drawn by reindeer before he reaches his destination.

On such occasions he is garbed in leather leggings, moccasins, reindeerskin jacket, and fur gauntlets, and looks much more like a trapper than a bishop. The episcopal mansion is a simple brown log-house standing on an eminence overlooking ' the little town. Its master, aS simple as the house, opened the door himself to admit the traveller; and afterwards, sitting in 'his pleasant booklined study, talked to him on that most entrancing of subjects, the work that lies nearest a man’s heart.

“It is strange to observe Nature’s influence on the human spirit,” he said. “These men live, so to speak, with their faces perpetually turned toward the storm, yet they are, contrary to what you might expect, gay, impulsive, fearless, and care-free. Their optimism has a strong dash of humour in it (genuine humour always flourishes best under conditions of deepest gravity), but they are profoundly religious. The fishermen of Lofoten and Finnmarken always take a clergyman or a lay preacher on their fishing expeditions. As for the Lapps, their church-going season is July and Augmt, for in the dark winter months, when the sun never rises, they cannot easily move about. During the days of the Midnight Sun there will be as many as 50 christenings in a church on a single Sunday. “But it is the fishermen who are the backbone of the population,” the bishop went on. “They have an uncommonly wide outlook and are capable of forming their own ideas of things. Culturally they stand on a surprisingly high level. I believe that there is more reading and thinking done up here than in the more southerly regions. We have more time on our hands, and also a greater need of the things of the spirit.” The bishop is himself a writer,, besides being a shepherd of souls, and his books have been translated into, many tongues. AN UNKNOWN GENIUS. SCULPTOR WHO LEFT HIS MARK. An unknown Elizabethan genius in sculpture has left his mark in a tiny Surrey church. A small marble panel of exquisite workmanship, set in the wall of All Saints Church, Sanderstead, depicts John Ownsted, “Master of Her Most Dread Majestie’s Horse for 40 years,” who died in 1600. . The colours on this little alabaster gem still remain here and there, for those were days when marble monuments were painted after being carved. The figure of the Horse Master, a famous character in his day, is depicted kneeling at a prie-dieu, in full armour, in an attitude of devotion. Nothing finer of its kind is known in England. Yet the artist who carved this figure is quite unknown. Close .by is the rambling Tudor mansion, now an hotel, which was a minor palace of the great queen. Here she would take her first rest when journeying into Sussex on horseback, for here was the holiday camp of the horses from the royal stable in London. Horses are still' out at grass in the neighbouring meadows. And the same families who attended the little church in Elizabeth’s day number their descendants among the present pew-holders. The church is little changed, the manor house hardly at all. But motor-buses rattle by at a speed Elizabeth never contemplated, even when the Invincible Armada of her enemy, dark Philip of Spain, was beating up the Channel, and her captains were hurrying to give him a good English welcome. Good Master John Ownstead must have been a busy man in. those days. A pious man too, giving grateful thanks to God when the Spanish galleons lay shattered on the stormy coasts of Scotland and Ireland and the danger to his beloved queen and country was over. But nobody knows who carved this kneeling figure in gem-like alabaster for the walls of Sanderstead Church. PALESTINE’S NEW. PORT. MODERN HARBOUR AT HAIFA. The Palestine coast has always lacked a really good harbour, but this is now being put right. The best haven has been at Haifa, but its waters were so shallow that big vessels were compelled to anchor some distance off shore. Since 1929 work has been going on to improve the harbour. Two great breakwaters have been built to enclose the harbour. One is a mile and a half long and the other half a mile. , The seaward ends are 600 feet apart, .leaving a wide entrance. The harbour has been dredged to give 31 feet of. water by the quayside; and *97 acres are being dredged to 37 feet. When the work is completed the biggest ships sailing the Mediterranean will be able to use the harbour. About 90 acres of land have been reclaimed as a result of the harbour works. The new quay is 2200 feet long. Concrete piles have .been driven 50 feet into the new land to provide firm foundations for the great transit sheds that are being erected close to the quay. The works are to cost over a million pounds and it is hoped the harbour will be completed in October. Haifa is likely to develop enormously as a port, for it is the Mediterranean terminus of the vast new pipe-line that is to carry petroletun from the oil-wells of Irak, and a new railway has been proposed from Haifa to Bagdad. THE BROKEN SPECTACLES. WHAT A LITTLE WORLD THIS IS. A pair of broken spectacles need not be a very serious affair. We might, if we are lucky, have them repaired and returned in a day or two, or if we are not quite so lucky in a week or two. But consider the case of a shortsighted man whose home is in a little town of the Northern Territory of Australia, many hundreds of miles from the nearest big town where necessary repairs can be made. This is how it worked out. The spectacles were broken on Friday. The little town was a port of call on an airway, and next day a plane was due, The spectacles were repaired in Brisbane on Monday, put on Tuesday’s plane, and on Wednesday they were reclining on the nose of their owner. In the four days they were absent from him the spectacles' travelled 2538 miles. It is not always an advantage to have a shop just round the comer.