I have delivered the message of M. Kemal Pasha and Father Babadjanian to the Holy Father. He will receive, also, fuller impressions of my interesting trip through Anatolia; and fuller descriptions of this country and those people who have made so splendid a fight for freedom and independence.
Throughout the length and breadth of Anatolia, prayers for peace have been echoed and re-echoed. There must be peace; but not at the expense of the sovereign rights of the people.
It is a comfort to the Turks, nevertheless, to know that the head of the Catholic Church stretches out the hand of friendship towards them, and prays for their peace and prosperity through the brotherhood of Moslems and Christians in the East.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THREE DIPLOMATS AT ROME—THE GUARDIANSHIP OF THE HOLY TOMB
In Rome I met three diplomats; as different from each other as night from day, as the Pope of Rome from the Khalif of Islam—a false comparison often made in New Turkey to-day.
We have described the Pope; the sanctity of his office, the odour of piety in which he dwells. The Pope is not of the world; he is above the world-elected, not born. The Khalif, like an hereditary king, inherits his position as Head of Islam; which means that he owes his position to the hazard of fortune, not to personality or virtue.
I have met all the Khalifs from Abdul Hamid to his present descendant, who was, when I saw him, the third in succession. He appeared to me a kindly, cultured gentleman and a talented artist. My host at that time, Prince Youssouff Zeddine, heir to the then Sultan, had frequently invited me to the Palace, and always spoke highly of his younger brother. The Prince had a touching affection for England, and, with Djémal Pasha (then Minister of Marine) for interpreter, would gladly listen to endless stories of olden and modern days. Passing from Alfred and the cakes; through Drake, Gordon, and Princess Mary; to his favourite tale of the Suffragettes chained to the grille at Westminster, I sought to inspire this unhappy man with memories of the greatness of the England he loved so well.
If, by any chance, I varied a phrase or omitted the slightest detail, he would beg Djémal “to respectfully remind Mademoiselle that she is going too fast!” It is difficult, indeed, to believe that the man who laughed so heartily at the words “Votes for Women,” could have ended his own existence. He dared to say to the Turkish Parliament, “On no account must we be on the wrong side with England”; and the next day he was dead!