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 country, "our" victories, and "our" ghazi Pasha! It was in a Christian church that I once heard the following prayer: "May the all powerful God bless our beloved nation Turkey, and all the heroic sons and children of this nation to which we are so proud to belong. Give grace and health to our commander, Mustapha Kemal Pasha the ghazi, and to all the Ministers of the National Assembly, and all those who have sacrificed their life and comfort for our welfare." The priest assured me that no one had "asked" him to offer up any such prayer, which was the spontaneous expression of his own feelings!

All Armenians consider themselves "at home" in Turkey; as the Welsh are "at home" in England. About the same proportion know the language, the national songs, history and literature, as we find in Wales. The priest preaches in Turkish because he desires the congregation to understand him; though, if he knows Armenian, part of the Mass is said in that language, for the sake of sentiment.

In these days, of course, the races have been provoked to mutual jealousies and suspicions. I overheard greetings that certainly sounded like the happy reunion of long-parted friends, and were, indeed, accompanied by all the outward and visible signs of affection, which the dignity of the European must always suppress.

"We have missed you," cried the affectionate Turk; "life is not what it used to be. None of us can take your place."

And the Armenian replied at once: "It was cruel to turn us against you. Those horrible English—that Lloyd George!"

They spoke of the happy days when the Armenians took care of Turkish children, whose parents had gone on pilgrimage to Mecca. Now they have come back the best of friends; and I believe, as they do, that not even the English could ever separate them again.

One of the guests, the Italian director of the Ottoman Bank, was very anxious that Colonel Mougin and I should not miss these signs of a permanent