strait to meet her in sweet seclusion. One night the lamp went out, but he attempted the feat all the same only to perish on the dark and stormy waters, and when the next morning she learned of the tragedy, she threw herself into the cruel waves that her spirit might join his. Byron swam from one shore to the other to demonstrate that it was not an impossible accomplishment.

With such memories we soon emerge from the Dardanelles into the wider Sea of Marmora, the ancient Propontis. Approaching our destination, we pass the Islands of the Princes, Prinkipo and the rest, which pleasantly break the monotony of a watery expanse. Here have been monasteries in the past. Here fair princesses have taken the veil to escape from a cruel and unjust despotism. Here princes of the realm, dethroned or in disfavor, have been in confinement. Here the attractive surroundings and the salubrious breezes are now being utilized for summer residence. It was to a rocky islet here that the dogs of Constantinople, when they were expelled from their age-long occupancy of the city, were taken in our day to die of starvation. It was at Prinkipo, where the conference was called in 1919 of all the factions in Russia to see if there was not a way of composing their differences, but the Allied effort in this direction was a failure, because the response was not sufficient to secure even a gathering of the clans.

We make our way steadily along, and on our right we see what was anciently known as Chalcedon. Here in 451 A. D. sat the fourth ecumenical council, with five to six hundred bishops present, the most largely attended of any in the history of the Christian Church. The glory of the place has long since departed. With reference to its early settlement by Greek colonists, a later colony seeking a location

was directed by the Delphic Oracle to build over against the "city of the blind." As we approach the point indicated on the opposite shore, we feel that those of Chalcedon were indeed blind not to have selected this for their new habitation, for here is Contantinople, whose position is absolutely unequalled. Though an actual entrance into its narrow and untidy streets proves disenchanting, apart from the historic, the view of it from the water is most satisfying and even enthralling. Its domes and pinnacles, its minarets and towers, in the mellow haze of a sunrise or in the afterglow of a sunset make it look like a celestial city, like a New Jerusalem let down from heaven.

The Asiatic part of the city is known as Scutari. Near this were buried 8,000 British soldiers and sailors, who died in the Crimean War, notwithstanding all that Florence Nightingale did to alleviate the sufferings of the dying. A hospital there bears her name. Said Longfellow :

"Lo! in that house of misery

A lady with a lamp I see

Pass through the glimmering gloom,

And flit from room to room.

And slow, as in a dream of bliss,

The speechless sufferer turns to kiss
Her shadow, as it falls

Upon the darkening walls."

Her memory still survives that sanguinary conflict in the early fifties of the nineteenth century. No less impressive is the Mohammedan burial ground here. It stretches away for miles under dark cypresses, and its dead outnumber the living in the adjoining streets.

What gives Scutari special preeminence is that on its heights was fought an epochal battle. In the time of Constantine there had been great political confusion, no less than three rival emperors struggling for the mastery in the West, and as many in the East. Maxentius, the last of the first. group, was defeated by Constantine near the Milvian Bridge at Rome in the year 312. To commemorate this victory was erected near the Roman Forum the Arch of Constantine, which has been standing there since 315 A. D. It was during this campaign that Constantine, according to contemporary authorities including the ecclesiastical historian Eusebius, had his vision of the cross emblazoned in the sky, with the motto, "By this conquer." He became a convert to Christianity, manifestly sincere but with many imperfections. With reference to these he must be judged by the standards of his age. Stanley very properly said that he was "Great" because of what he did, and not because of what he was. He had the foresight and the astuteness to recognize that Christianity was the coming power, and he determined to be identified therewith.

No sooner had he triumphed in the West than he decided to grapple with the only survivor of the three emperors in the East, Licinius, who met with his initial reverse at Adrianople and with his final defeat in 324 at Chrysopolis, which was our modern Scutari, where Constantine by his brilliant achievement became sole emperor of the whole empire. From that moment there opened up to him his splendid career. He substituted the luminous cross for the Roman eagles on the imperial standards, doubtless saying with Paul, "Far be it from me to glory, save in the cross. Just across the water he was to establish himself, at Stamboul, as it long has been called. Thither, after presiding at