XIII

A MONTH'S HOLIDAY IN ASIA MINOR

After the fall spent in America in raising the necessary funds, it was
the now famous Carmania which carried us to England. In spite of a few
days' rest at my old home, and the stimulus of a Grenfell clan
gathering in London, my wife and I were both in need of something
which could direct our minds from our problems, and Boxing Day found
us bound for Paris, Turin, Milan, and Rome.

Just before Christmas I had had a meeting at the famous office of the
Hudson Bay Company in London, and attended another of their
interesting luncheons where their directors meet. My old friend Lord
Strathcona presided. I could not help noting that after all the lapse
of years since we first met at Hudson Bay House in Montreal, he still
retained his abstemious habits. He was ninety-three, and still at his
post as High Commissioner for a great people, as well as leading
councillor of a dozen companies. His memory of Labrador and his days
there, and his love for it, had not abated one whit. Hearing that the
hospital steamer Strathcona needed a new boiler and considerable
repairs, he ordered me to have the work undertaken at once and the
bill sent to him. He, moreover, insisted that we should spend some
days with him at his beautiful country house near London, an
invitation which we accepted for our return, but which we were never
fated to realize, for before the appointed date that able man had
crossed the last bar.

It is said to be better to be lucky than rich. We had expected in Rome
to do only what the Romans of our pocket-book do. But we fell in with
some old acquaintances whose pleasure it is to give pleasure, and New
Year's night was made memorable by a concert given by the choir of the
Sistine Chapel, to which we were taken by the editor of the
"Churchman" and later of the "Constructive Quarterly," an old friend
of ours, Dr. Silas McBee. A glimpse into the British Embassy gave us
an insight into the problem of Roman modern politics and the factions
of the Black and White.

Rome is always delightful. One is glad to forget the future and live
for the time in the past. Sitting in the Coliseum in the moonlight I
could see the gladiators fighting to amuse the civilized man of that
period, and gentle women and innocent men dying horrible deaths for
truths that have made us what we are, but which we now sometimes
regard so lightly.

I confess that religious buildings, religious pictures, religio