to the funds, and Hamdoullah Soubhi came from Angora for the re-opening. "As our territory has become smaller, our intellectual empire must become wider," said Hussein Raghib. "That is the spirit behind the club." I had, unfortunately, to leave for Lausanne before the opening ceremony.
I have just been to the famous Hadgi Bairam Mosque, and found its chief charm, as I expected, in the exquisite colouring of the carpets and antique faïences. These glowing scarlets and blues, mauves and terra-cottas, surely compensate, in some measure, for all the grey that overshadows life. Europe would not seem so sordid if we imported more bright colours from the East—for our East Ends! Nothing fascinates me so much as the atmosphere of a mosque; the un-selfconsciousness and natural reverence of the men at prayers; out of the world, in Allah's home.
Surely faith is the same for all men, making all men equal!
"The gods," said my guide, "are three—Goodness, Beauty, and Truth."
"To which I would add Courage," was my response.
"As you please," he answered.
He told me that "The Pasha" and the first Deputies all came to visit the Mosque before the opening of the Grand National Assembly, joined by everyone in Angora—even sceptics—"to lift our hands to Heaven in prayer, confident that victory must be ours."
We went on to the tomb of the Sainted Man, robed in shawl and turban, after the picturesque Eastern manner. The guardian of the tomb was seated before it on his crossed legs, reading the Koran; and around him were many women, weeping over their prayers. . . . "Is it for peace, or for their dead?" I wondered!
That afternoon I determined to try and find out
