Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

Things have changed. In 1969 when the Convention for the Conservation of the Vicuna was drafted, in an attempt to save the vicuna from its tumbling decline towards extinction, both the science and the philosophy of wildlife conservation were radically different. It is thus a tribute to the prescience of those involved at the time that the rescue plan had, even through the harsh lens of hindsight, a d- tinctly Twenty First Century flavour. After all, it was predicated on the expectation that if vicuna could be saved, they would one day become a valued asset, generating revenue for the human communities that fostered their survival. Embodied in this aspiration are the main structures of modern biodiversity conservation - not only is it to be underpinned by science, but that science should be of both the natural and the social genres, woven into inter-disciplinarity, and thereby taking heed of e- nomics, governance, ownership and the like, alongside biology. In addition, it should include, as a major strut, the human dimension, taking account of the affected constituencies with their varied stakes in alternative outcomes. This c- temporary framework for thinking about biodiversity conservation is inseparable from such wider, and inherently political, notions as community-based conser- tion and ultimately sustainable use.

This is the story of two airmen - an RAF Rear Gunner and a Luftwaffe Pilot. Alexander Ollar was raised in the Highlands of Scotland. He became an exceptional sporting shot and volunteered as an RAF Air Gunner in 1939. Helmut Lent enrolled for pilot training in the Luftwaffe as soon as he was old enough. Both were men of integrity and honour. Alec completed his first tour of 34 operations with 115 Squadron and was awarded the Distinguished Flying Medal by the King. After a year as an instructor, Alec was commissioned and returned to 115 Squadron as Gunnery Leader. He took part in the first 1,000 bomber raid and was described by his Squadron Commander as the best rear gunner he had ever flown with. At the same time Helmut was building up an impressive score of victories as a night fighter pilot and a national hero who was decorated by the Fuhrer. In July 1942, just as both men reach the apex of their careers, they meet for the first time in the night skies over Hamburg. As this fascinating book reveals, only one will survive.

Things have changed. In 1969 when the Convention for the Conservation of the Vicuna was drafted, in an attempt to save the vicuna from its tumbling decline towards extinction, both the science and the philosophy of wildlife conservation were radically different. It is thus a tribute to the prescience of those involved at the time that the rescue plan had, even through the harsh lens of hindsight, a d- tinctly Twenty First Century flavour. After all, it was predicated on the expectation that if vicuna could be saved, they would one day become a valued asset, generating revenue for the human communities that fostered their survival. Embodied in this aspiration are the main structures of modern biodiversity conservation - not only is it to be underpinned by science, but that science should be of both the natural and the social genres, woven into inter-disciplinarity, and thereby taking heed of e- nomics, governance, ownership and the like, alongside biology. In addition, it should include, as a major strut, the human dimension, taking account of the affected constituencies with their varied stakes in alternative outcomes. This c- temporary framework for thinking about biodiversity conservation is inseparable from such wider, and inherently political, notions as community-based conser- tion and ultimately sustainable use."

In the years between about 1810 and 1840, Edinburgh-long and affectionately known as 'Auld Reekie'-came to think of itself and be widely regarded as something else: the city became 'Modern Athens', an epithet later turned to 'the Athens of the North'. The phrase is very well-known. It is also much used by those who have little understanding of the often confused and contradictory messages hidden within the apparent convenience of a trite or hackneyed term that conceals a myriad of nuanced meanings. This book examines the circumstances underlying a remarkable change in perception of a place and an age. It looks in detail at the 'when', the 'by whom', the 'why', the 'how', and the 'with what consequences' of this most interesting, if extremely complex, transformation of one city into an image-physical or spiritual, or both-of another. A very broad range of evidence is drawn upon, the story having not only topographical, artistic, and architectural dimensions but also social, cerebral, and philosophical ones. Edinburgh may well have been considered 'Athenian'. But, in essence, it remained what it had always been. Maybe, however, for a brief period it was really a sort of hybrid: 'Auld Greekie'.