re-establishing the Byzantine Empire. The precise degree of significance to be attached to the influence of this society has been computed in varying degrees by writers of equal authority *; but it is indisputable that it was the Philiké Hetairia which gave coherence and unity of aim to a movement which had hitherto been lacking in these characteristics. With the events of the Greek insurrection of 1821-1829 it is unnecessary to deal in detail. They are narrated in innumerable text-books, and, in a well-known monograph, Prof. Alison Phillips has unravelled the intricacies of a singularly confused episode with characteristic lucidity and skill.† The enthusiasm of Lord Byron, the knight-errantry of Lord Cochrane, General Church and other Philhellenist volunteers cast over the war a glamour which in truth it only partially deserved. Never surely did any movement display a more confused and perplexing medley of brutality and nobility, of conspicuous heroism and consummate cowardice, of pure-minded patriotism and sordid self-seeking, of self-sacrificing loyalty and time-serving treachery. Nevertheless, the first three years of the revolutionary war (1821-1823) were marked by conspicuous and all but consistent success. In 1822 a Constituent Assembly met and promulgated a constitution; a legislative assembly was elected on a popular franchise, and an executive of five members was appointed under the presidency of Alexander Mavrocordatos.

But a new phase of the struggle opened in 1824, when the Sultan called in the aid of his powerful vassal, Mehemet Ali of Egypt. In that year Mehemet Ali's son, Ibrahim Pasha, occupied Crete, and in 1825 he crossed to the Morea itself, which was completely devastated by the Egyptian troops. Missolonghi, after an heroic defence, to which English volunteers largely contributed, fell in 1826, and in 1827, despite the efforts of Lord Cochrane and General Church, Athens was compelled to surrender.

The Greek cause seemed desperate. It could be saved only, if at all, by foreign intervention. Was such assistance likely to be forthcoming? In order to answer that question we must refer briefly to the diplomatic situation and examine the

*E.g. by Finlay and Gordon respectively.

+ The War of Greek Independence. Smith, Elder & Co. 1898.

attitude assumed by the several Powers towards events in the Near East.

To Russia, the secular enemy of the Turks, the dictator of the treaties of Kainardji, of Jassy, and of Bucharest, the Greeks, when raising the standard of insurrection, naturally looked for encouragement and assistance. The more so since at the moment the Czar's Foreign Minister was Capodistrias, himself a Greek, and the destined champion of Greek independence. The Czar Alexander was by now too deeply committed to Metternich's interpretation of the Holy Alliance to give any countenance to a revolutionary movement. The Greeks, after all, were rebels against the authority of a legitimate ruler, they were morally indistinguishable from the rebels in Spain, in Portugal, in Naples, and as such to be left to their fate. This was the verdict of the allied monarchs at Verona. In the delivery of it Great Britain had no part. But the Czar Alexander, though he 'discerned the revolutionary march in 'the troubles of the Peloponnese,' had his own quarrel with the Sultan. Between 1822 and 1826 events tended to bring the two movements, the Greek insurrection and the Russian dispute with Turkey, though in origin quite distinct, into closer and eventually inextricable relations. In 1825 Alexander died and was succeeded by his brother Nicholas, a man of very different temper. For the Greeks Nicholas cared as little as Alexander, but he was even less disposed to allow the Sultan to play fast and loose with Russia.

What was the attitude of Great Britain towards the new developments of the Eastern Question? Officially, Canning adhered to the principle of non-intervention which had been laid down, in opposition to the Holy Alliance, by Lord Castlereagh. He was, however, like most of his countrymen, warmly interested in the Greek cause, and he ardently desired that they might succeed in throwing off the Ottoman yoke. Towards the end of 1825 the Greeks had formally placed themselves under British protection, and had implored Great Britain to send them a king. To this request it was, of course, impossible to accede, and Canning was obliged to make it clear that Great Britain could not depart from her policy of strict though benevolent neutrality.

Both in England and Russia, however, the tide of Philhellenist sentiment was rising rapidly and might at any

moment get beyond the control of the Governments. More particularly was this the case after Ibrahim's devastation of the Morea. Accordingly, on the accession of the Czar Nicholas, Canning induced the Duke of Wellington to undertake a special mission to St. Petersburg. He was to adjust, if possible, the disputes between Russia and Turkey, and so avert the threatened war, and also to arrive at a common understanding on the Greek Question. The Protocol of St. Petersburg (1826) was the result. In the following year France came in, and in 1827 Canning concluded with Russia and France the Treaty of London (July 1827). Under this Treaty the three Powers agreed to force an armistice upon the belligerents and to recognise the autonomy of Greece under Turkish suzerainty. This Treaty was the crown of Canning's policy. From first to last he had striven to attain two objects: (1) to secure, without any violation of formal neutrality, virtual independence for the Greeks; and (2) to prevent the Russian Czar from taking advantage of the Greek movement, for which he cared little, to realise ambitions for which he cared much. But the Turk, obstinate as ever, frustrated Canning's policy and played straight into the hands of Russia.

In order to carry out the Treaty of London the three Powers sent an allied squadron into the Levant; but the instructions given to the admirals were curiously, perhaps designedly, ambiguous. They were to prevent all collision between 'the contending parties without taking any part in the 'hostilities.' Fortunately the Turks cut the Gordian knot by firing on the allied squadron, and the result was 'the ' untoward accident of Navarino ' (October 20, 1827). By the evening of that day the Turko-Egyptian fleet 'had disappeared, and the Bay of Navarino was covered with their 'wrecks.'

Before Navarino was fought Canning was dead, and the policy of his successors robbed England of all the fruits of his patient and sagacious diplomacy. What Canning had foreseen so clearly and had laboured so assiduously to avoid immediately occurred. While the Duke of Wellington apologised to Turkey for the untoward accident,' Russia advanced single-handed against her, and after two years' hard fighting dictated the Treaty of Adrianople (14th September 1829). Russia obtained ample securities and compensation for herself, and on behalf

of Greece she wrung from the Porte a virtual acknowledgment of independence.

The final settlement of the affairs of Greece was relegated to a Conference in London, and by the Convention of London (7th May 1832)* Greece was declared to be an independent and monarchical State under the guarantee of the three Powers, who jointly guaranteed a loan of 60,000,000 francs.

It was comparatively easy for the protecting Powers to declare that the government of Greece should be a monarchy; it was more difficult to find a monarch. The Crown, having been successively declined by Prince John of Saxony and Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg (who preferred Belgium), was ultimately accepted by Prince Otto of Bavaria. Capodistrias, who had been President of the executive, was conveniently assassinated in 1831, and the way was clear for the Bavarian Princeling who, at the age of seventeen, ascended the Greek throne on January 25, 1833.

Greece was now fairly launched upon its career as an independent State. That it had already begun to disappoint its friends it would be idle to deny; and more disappointments were in store for them. But if Greece fell short of the hopes of its friends, the efforts of its friends seemed inadequate to Greece.

'The spirit of Greece,' writes Mr. Toynbee in a notable passage, ' had travailed, and only a principality was born, which gathered within its frontiers scarcely one-third of the race, and turned for its government to a foreign administration which had no bond of tradition or affinity with the population it was to rule. And yet something had been achieved. An oasis had been wrested from the Turkish wilderness, in which Hellenism could henceforth work out its own salvation untrammelled, and extend its borders little by little, until it brought within them at last the whole of its destined heritage. The fleeting glamour of dawn had passed, but it had brought the steady light of day, in which the work begun could be carried out soberly and indefatigably to its conclusion. The new kingdom, in fact, if it fulfilled its mission, might become the political nucleus and the spiritual example of a permanently awakened nation-an "education of Hellas" such as Pericles hoped to see Athens become in the greatest days of Ancient Greece.'

* The text of this important document will be found in Hertslet, 'Map of Europe by Treaty,' ii. pp. 893 seq.

The task committed by the Powers to King Otto could not, in the nature of things, have been an easy one, and the young King displayed little skill in overcoming difficulties. Consequently, a military revolt broke out in 1843 which compelled the King to dismiss his unpopular Bavarian advisers and to accept a constitution, based upon the French Charter of 1830, with a bi-cameral legislature and a responsible executive.* The King proved, however, unwilling or perhaps unable to fulfil the functions assigned to him under a 'constitutional' régime and in 1862 he was forced to abdicate.

The protecting Powers had again to look out for a 'constitutional' King. The Greek people looked, not unnaturally, to England for the production of this rare exotic, and by plebiscite offered the throne to Prince Alfred, the second son of Queen Victoria. The three Powers had, however, pledged themselves not to put any of their own cadets upon the Greek throne, and the offer had perforce to be declined.† Foiled in their attempt to obtain the services of an English Prince, the Greeks then tried to get an English Statesman as their King. The offer of the Crown was actually made to and declined by Lord Stanley, and Mr. Gladstone's name was also mentioned, much to his own amusement, in the same connection. Ultimately, however, Great Britain secured for the Greeks the services of Prince William George of Denmark, who in 1863 ascended the throne as King George I.

Perhaps with the view of commending the new Sovereign to his subjects, perhaps as a solatium for the failure to obtain an English King, England offered to hand over to Greece the Ionian Isles. The significance of these seven islands as the key of the Adriatic and as stepping-stones to Egypt had been keenly appreciated by Napoleon, who acquired them for France by the Treaty of Campo Formio (1797). Most of them fell into British hands between 1809 and 1814, and at the

* Details of this revolution will be found in 'British and Foreign State Papers, 1843-1844,' vol. xxxii. pp. 938 seq.

+ Cf. Joint Note of 15th December 1862 (State Papers, vol. lviii. p. 1107), and translation ap. Hertslet, iii. p. 2073.

Though I do love the country and never laughed at anything else in connection with it before, yet the seeing my own name, which was never meant to carry a title of any kind, placed in juxtaposition with that particular idea made me give way.' Mr. Gladstone to a friend-ap. Morley, Life, i. p. 620.