and telegraphs, railways and the customs. Foreigners are to be appointed as inspectors in the departments of public works, the administration of justice and the police. In a word, home-rule in the full sense of the term is to be introduced.

Simultaneously in Constantinople the Ambassadors of the Great Powers were concerting ways and means of bettering the lot of the Armenians in the Ottoman Empire. Here, too, a breach at once inevitable and irreparable is to be made in the sovereignty of the Porte. True, the Armenians declare, and no doubt quite sincerely, that they are not separatists, nor even autonomists. They desire in their own interests to see Turkey thriving and rich, and they ask to be protected in their lives and property. And for this purpose, they add, the reforms foreshadowed by the Treaty of Berlin and drawn up in the year 1895 would be adequate. A European GovernorGeneral is the first of their demands, a functionary who shall have a council to advise him. Then comes the creation of a body of gendarmes, Moslem and Christian. But, above all else, efficient European supervision and control is demanded. Lastly, they call for a satisfactory solution of the agrarian problem, which is intricate and contentious. The author of the renewed petitions to the Powers, Nubar Pasha, in conversation with the present writer and also in his exposés, has set forth the Armenian claims with a logical force which is unanswerable and a spirit of fairness which disarms criticism.

What it all amounts to is briefly this. The Turks, as a ruling race, have been authoritatively disqualified. Hence all the civilised nationalities in the Empire, if only they are numerous enough, must in fairness be withdrawn from his sceptre. That in plain language is the principle underlying the action of the Powers. Its application will involve the abdication of the Turks in the country which they still call their own. That the Arabs, for instance, are a cultured people needs no proof in the 20th century. Even the Kurds will not remain under the Turks, for they are comprised in the Armenian Constitution under the name of Mohammedans. It is, in grim earnest, the painless dissolution of Turkey that is being accomplished.

Meanwhile the Turks themselves are labouring hard in the direction in which disaster lies. The crime which deprived the army of the services of its Generalissimo, Nazim Pasha, engendered the criminal murder of which Mahmoud Shefket was the victim. And now a system of repression is in full swing which may aptly be compared, with due deductions for the new age, to that of Marius or Sylla. The assassination of Mahmoud Shefket was at once seized upon by the Cabinet as a pretext for the extermination of the Opposition. For instance, the evidence adduced against the Sultan's son-in-law, Damad Salih-evidence on the strength of which he was hanged -is admitted by friends of the Government to have been unconvincing. The same testimony was of course held to be sufficient for the death sentence which was passed on Prince Sabah-Eddin and Reshid, whom the present writer believes to be incapable of sympathising with such a dastardly crime. One of the most gallant officers of the army, Colonel Fuad, was tried and condemned for having in his possession a proclamation to the army. The prisoners who were thus summarily dealt with were denied the right of calling witnesses, of employing civil or military counsel, or of taking any effective measures to clear themselves in the eyes of the Court.

Throughout all these changes the tone of what people are agreed to call Europe is disconcerting. It desires peace, but is unable or unwilling to make its voice sound with firmness and decision. It abhors wanton bloodshed, yet witnesses it in the Balkans unmoved. It has a Conference of Ambassadors in London working upon questions arising out of the war; another Conference of Ambassadors in Constantinople busy in elaborating reforms; and a most important Conference in Paris whose members, as they belong to the respective countries at war with each other, are strictly speaking debarred from meeting each other. Meanwhile, commercial and industrial enterprise is paralysed, and misery is spreading.

The explanation is that there is no Europe yet in the sense implied, certainly no group of States pursuing a policy marked by unity of purpose. National interests almost always outweigh those ends which are common to them all. And for this there are several grounds. Each of the States pursues advantages for itself which

cannot readily be brought into harmony with those sought for by the others. Again, only Powers of the first class have votes, the others not being even consulted. Lastly, there are special difficulties in the particular case of the Near East-difficulties which affect States of the composite as distinguished from the national type. A country with many Slavs and Roumanians must tread warily. Lesser groups of allied Powers have to surmount like obstacles. The number of hard-and-fast partnerships at present existing is small, yet there is probably not one that does not gall the States which are parties to it. Strong to withstand, check, retard, they are incapable of building up. Once they set their hands to a task of a constructive nature, they discover how hopeless it is to work together. The type of alliance which binds France and Russia is perhaps the least irksome, owing to geographical distance and the different planes on which lie their respective interests throughout Europe and Asia. Yet tedious and irritating negotiations were necessary between them before they could make up their minds about such eminently civilising projects as railway construction between Erzeroum and the Black Sea. Indeed the conversations on this topic are still going on.

Between Great Britain and Russia official relations are of the friendliest. The two Governments are actuated by admirable intentions; they agree apparently even as to aims, but they differ about the means of achieving them. And so unbridgeable is the chasm that separates them that they have as yet proved unable to do a stroke of good work in common.

For several years Great Britain and Russia have been endeavouring to elaborate a positive policy towards Persia-a policy which would make the most of those sporadic elements of progress still to be found in that illstarred country and would enable the Persian nation to lead a quiet, modest but independent life of its own. And they have not yet succeeded. It is fair to say that the mutual differences at the outset were enormous-on the British side an unbounded faith in the regenerative virtue of representative institutions, on the Russian the still vital traditions of bygone ages of absolutism. The British politician displayed his usual faith in the sacramental virtue of a parliament selected by the people, and insisted

on that being made the centre of the new State system; while the Slav, impatient of restraint and delay, demanded government by an autocrat. Now neither of these formulæ could be applied to Persia just then. The conditions of the country were too complex to be met by any such simple mode of action. Accordingly a compromise resulted which satisfied neither Government and produced no satisfactory results. That under these conditions the two Empires should have differed is not surprising. The astonishing thing is that they are not yet at one upon a programme of reform.

But far easier questions, which were subsequently raised, had to be left unanswered. The direction of the Trans-Persian railway has long been under consideration, and has elicited thorough discussion, private and public. But no result has followed, no perceptible progress has been made, and voices have been lifted up of late denouncing the Anglo-Russian agreement as unfruitful, and favouring a new departure which would confer more liberty of action upon Great Britain, and therefore larger opportunities of self-improvement and independence upon Persia. That this tendency is accentuated and is visibly spreading will not be gainsaid by those who can feel the nation's pulse. How far it is desirable that it should influence the Government is a grave but open question which requires careful handling.

The arrangement between the two States respecting Persia was come to, it must be confessed, without a clear understanding on the British side of the conditions of the Iranian people, their potentialities, and their political limitations. Their capacity for self-government was taken for granted; suitable candidates for the various posts in the Administration were assumed to be sufficiently numerous; and no difficulty was apprehended about stimulating the masses to active interest in political affairs. As a matter of fact, the masses are indifferent to political change; there is no class which can supply able administrators; and the few prominent men available are endowed with the dangerous gift of cleverness divorced from judgment and character. The nation, accustomed to feel the strong arm of one man whose will was law, felt itself lost when his place became vacant, and an irresponsible body began to turn things topsy-turvy. A people never alters its

character in a night, even to adjust itself to revolutionary change. Time is needed for compromise, for assimilation; and during this slow process the old spirit lives and moves. In Persia between the Medjliss and the people there was no organic bond. Many of the deputies were appointed by the Government; the Medjliss itself nominated others. The Senate was never convened at all. In a word, the Constitution was a farce not only unworthy but also disastrous. The Parliament poured out the vials of its wrath against Russia as the enemy of popular government, and subjected the Anglo-Russian agreement to a severe strain. Disorders resulted which ended in the disappearance of the Medjliss, the suspension of the Constitution, the spread of anarchy, and the occupation of several districts by Russian troops.

It may be taken as proven that the old-world system of misrule is become inadequate to a country like Iran, situated on the commercial highroad between civilised nations. Hence unless Persia disappears as a political community, it must soon enter upon a new and progressive stage. But the need of gradation should not be ignored. Strong government is still a necessity in the country, and neither the Medjliss nor the Senate can be relied upon as a substitute. Yet there is not one strong man in the land, qualified by intellectual vision, force of will, and acknowledged integrity to lead the nation. Its best educated citizen at the present moment is the Regent, Nasr-ulMulk, and he is also one of the weakest. After his long stay in Europe he intends to return to Teheran at the end of August to order elections to the Medjliss, to convoke the Senate, and generally to lay the foundation for some sort of political framework accommodated to present needs and capable of future development. This moving of the waters is largely the work of the British Foreign Office. To Russia, whose cold assent has been obtained, the idea of another Persian parliament is profoundly distasteful. And should the new legislature deliberately give umbrage to the Tsardom, as did the old, Petersburg is resolved to act with unwonted energy.

In so far as the Russian troops in Persia are preventing brigandage, they are the benefactors of the people. But the Persians must be got to maintain order in their own country without the help of benefactors, and the