another, a petty maritime
State for a great one. Her weakness is in asking material favours at
the same time as she pays compliments. Greece is almost our ally in
the Near East. French rivalry has bound British and Greeks together.
In our employ are Greeks; in the French employ, Turks. There is no
question but our employees are the cleverer and the more capable, but
there is a continual clash on psychological grounds. The Greeks make
mistakes and the British are not ready to make allowances. The
Englishman demands that his friend shall be a "sportsman"--the Turk is,
the Greek is not. Therefore we cannot fit Greece into the jig-saw
puzzle which we call the comity of nations. The question is, can
Greece cut herself to fit--ought she to?

It is strange to come into the martial display of Athens and find the
old war still going on, see the numbers of worn soldiers weighed down
with all the impedimenta of "fighting order" coming home on leave or
returning to the front, to see the Turkish prisoners of war jobbing at
the station and on the streets, to see the handsome Evzones, the
soldiers of the King's bodyguard, strutting together in fine style
along the cobbled roadway. It is impressive, and shows Greece in a new
light. Then the Constituent Assembly with its new Turkish members in
their fezes rather takes the eye as a novel synthesis of political
interest in the Near East. Athens is a great capital where much that
is vital in the future of Europe is at stake. It stands somewhat aside
from the general misery of Europe, and for that reason more perhaps can
be seen.

Not that Greece has not its poor--its appalling beggars, its miserable
war-cripples, its refugees. An extensive strike was in progress in
February; it had to be settled by a threat of mobilization. "Any
workman not in his place on Monday morning will be called up for the
next draft to Asia Minor" proved an effectual way of meeting demands
for higher pay. Of the refugees, pity is first awakened for the
Russians. Just outside the city of Athens, in old barracks, lie the
survivors of the tuberculosis hospitals evacuated from the Crimea--pale
and haggard as death--strange wisps of humanity, attended by devoted
Russian doctors and nurses; but fed on the scantiest of dry army
rations, short of medicine and comfort of all kinds. One ward of dying
women with staring eyes, an unforgettable impression!

Whilst in Greece, every Englishman should visit our