speeches are democratic, full of kindness and consideration for his people, revealing a real desire and determination to lead them along the road to that prosperity which should be the heritage of a people dowered with a soil so fertile in precious minerals. . . . Yet, of course, other men in other countries have made great speeches and done nothing!"
In paying tribute to the personality of M. Kemal Pasha, so far as I could then judge it, I said that he seemed to me a man of moderation, who would always use his great influence to prevent bloodshed. Yet one trembles at the thought of the moment when the army goes into Constantinople! The slightest friction, through no fault of the great general himself, might have appalling results. Yet I have sufficient confidence in the Turks to know they would not willingly harm one religious order. It could only be by accident . . . yet it would be terrible, and must not happen. . . .
"Nothing will happen, your Holiness," I went on, "unless the Greeks begin it. In their tragic and hasty exodus from Thrace were they not reminded, in terror of what might be, of their own conduct in Asia Minor?" Yet the Pope's face was very anxious. There was great pathos in his voice.
In what almost tragic situations a Pope thus often finds himself! The spiritual father of both sides; nevertheless neutral, or, if not neutral, criticised by both . . . always expected to dispense generosity and mercy—and receiving none; no wonder the strain of the war killed both Benedict XV. and Pius X.
In Angora I told M. Kemal Pasha of the Pope's great desire for peace. What was to be the Pasha's beau geste towards Christianity. I suggested he might, as S. Sophia was a Christian Church, give it back to the Pope, as spiritual head of Christendom.
M. Kemal Pasha replied: "Had there been only one branch of the Christian Church, although S. Sophia has now become part of our Moslem traditions, it might have been possible. As the Christian Church is so much divided, it is impossible. We should only
