to receive the attention it deserves, in spite of the rude and forceful way in which it was last injected into the councils of Europe. For it coincides with another event which temporarily at least seems more significant for European relations, namely the crisis in German finances. The two problems are so unlike that comparisons are unprofitable; but it is probable that the future international adjustments of the world will be more affected by the decisions shortly to be reached about the settlement of Turkey than those which may be reached concerning German reparations. The latter belong in the field of economics and tend therefore to be temporary in their effect. The processes of supply and demand, almost like laws of nature, tend to recover their equilibrium; and even obstacles may spring surprises, in the shape of Discovery and Invention, which accelerate recovery. The problem of Constantinople and the Straits, on the other hand, is primarily not one in economics but in history. It has a continuing interest for all concerned. Behind the narrow straits lies the vast, still potent continent of the Slav, rich in resources and in man power in spite of present conditions. The Danubian countries have a new interest in their outlet by sea since Italy, in the late war, secured and partly blocked the gateway of the Adriatic, which Austria-Hungary had opened as an alternative to the Black Sea route. Mohammedan Asia, with its resources almost untouched but its ancient poise disturbed by western exploitation, watches and waits; and its future history is bound to respond in some degree to the treatment accorded its representative in this issue. And France and Great Britain have already found how deeply the events in the Near

East can drive the wedge of divergent policies which threatens to separate them.

The Lord Chancellor was right, however, in one particular. The present policy of Britain is not based upon historical precedent. The Victorian façade is shattered. But sometimes one learns something from ruins; and if there is no desire to restore the old basis of agreement there is surely little in history to suggest that a permanent solution can be made to conform to the vagaries of the present, when Russians and Turks, century-old enemies, are friends for a day. Clearly the matter is one which calls for the application of experience. It cannot be decided without considering what the situation would be like were friends to become opponents and opponents friends. It is also one in which apparent outsiders may ultimately be deeply affected, as the past has shown. In short, solutions narrowly based upon the exigencies of the moment may prove as futile as those resting upon a blind regard for historical precedent. What is necessary necessary not only for the contestants but for the whole world, including America-is a settlement based upon considerations of the most general application. In no other international settlement is it so obviously in the interest of the contestants themselves that the problem should be thus envisaged. But it is equally obvious, in view of the momentous issues involved, that no great power can avoid a joint responsibility for the character of the settlement. Finally, the enforcement of a settlement affecting all cannot be left in the hands of any one of the late contestants. There must be some instrument of control, if not of administration, embodying the ultimate responsibility for carrying out common

decisions in the interest of all concerned. Anything short of this is not a settlement, as Europe is already beginning to appreciate.

But to return to our history. The following outline of the problem of the Straits is only a narrative of its successive phases down to the Congress of Berlin, reduced to its simplest form. It was written some years ago as a sort of enlarged memorandum for practical purposes. It is hoped that it may prove of service to students of international affairs; but it should be supplemented by other studies dealing with the economic as well as the political interests involved in the present crisis.

PARIS, October 23, 1922.

The "Question of the Straits" is one of the oldest and most persistent problems in European history. It dates from the dimmest antiquity of Greece: the myths of Jason and the Golden Fleece-which were not all myths. From the very first it showed its twofold aspect, commercial and strategic.

The political issue of the Trojan War, in the thirteenth century B. C., was the control of the Dardanelles. The frail craft from the Mediterranean, working their way slowly against persistent northeast winds and the strong current of the Hellespont (Dardanelles), were easy victims for those who held the stronghold on the southern shore into which they were apt to be forced to turn for supplies. The power of Troy was erected on this strategic-economic fact. Forcing the Greek sailors to halt there, it brought down to its own bazaars the raw materials and produce of the rich Black Sea trade. The remains of many cities before Troy, on the same hill commanding the mouth of the Dardanelles, show that beyond the dawn of history the control of the Straits enabled those pre-Trojan and Trojan predecessors of the Turks to reap rich harvest of market tolls and dues in about the same way the Turks have profited in modern times.

The Greeks gain the Straits

Agamemnon, leader of the Greek entente, finally cleared the waters for Aegean ships to reach the source of supplies instead of stopping at the Trojan entrepôt.

This was a larger fact in the development of ancient Greece than the historians appreciated, for history in the antique world paid little attention to economics. But in the period of Greek expansion, when colonies were planted throughout the Mediterranean, an important part of the movement was toward the Black Sea. Of these settlements less is known than of those of the west, on which early Roman civilization was so largely based; but they were a more intimate part of the Greek economy, for apart from the products of the farms of Thrace they tapped the Oriental trade routes in their harbors along the dangerous southern coast of the Black Sea, and they brought grain and gold from the posts along the northern shore.

Athens at the Straits

Yet, as Thucydides reminds us, the commerce of the Greeks did not amount to much before the ascendancy of Athens. Their ships were small and frail, merely enlarged row-boats, mostly unprovided with upper decks, and carrying their cargo in the open. Until the battle of Salamis Greek sea-power was insignificant. The Persian army of Darius could cross the Straits and ravage European territory with impunity; and Xerxes could throw his bridge of boats across the Hellespont from Abydos, almost at the very spot where the British garrison in 1922 stood waiting the onset of the Turk from Asia. After Salamis, sea-power as