do."

The American missionaries who have done so much for Bulgaria and
were permitted to work freely under the tolerant Turk, were only
allowed to travel through Serbia on condition they held no services.

I was astonished at the intense bitterness with which the ex-Queen
Natalie's conversion to Rome was spoken of. As the poor woman had
led a wretched life in Serbia and had left it for ever, her religion
could be no concern whatever now of the Serbs. But it seemed to be
considered on all sides as an insult to the nation.

Nor was it, so far as I could see, because the people were devout
believers--the upper classes certainly did not appear to be--but
because the Church was Serbian, and represented a frenzied and
intolerant Nationalism. To such an extent was this carried out that
a Catholic Albanian, of whom I subsequently saw a good deal, had to
add "itch" to the end of his name and conform to the Orthodox Church
outwardly in order to obtain leave to open a shop in Belgrade.

That frenzied Nationalism and not religion is at the base of this
intolerance is further proved by hatred of the Serb for the
Bulgarian Church, which on all points of dogma and doctrine and in
its services is precisely the same as that of the Serbs.

And this same frenzied Nationalism, if persisted in, may yet lead to
Serbia's undoing.

On looking back I see that my tour in Serbia was a turning point in
my Balkan studies. Till then the Balkans had been a happy hunting
ground filled by picturesque and amusing people, in which to collect
tales, sketch and forget home miseries for a time in a quite new
world.

I left Serbia with very mixed feelings. Much of the tour I had
enjoyed. After the police difficulties of the beginning I had met
with great hospitality and much kindness and it is always a pleasure
to penetrate an unknown land, ride through great forests and see the
new view open at the top of the pass. When the Belgrade police
visaed my passport for the last time they bade me a friendly
farewell. But I was severely disillusioned as to Great Serbia.
Instead of brethren pining to be united, I had found a mass of dark
intrigue--darker than I then knew--envy, hatred and all
uncharitableness. No love was lost between Serb and Montenegrin.
Alexander was to divorce his wife or go. "Something" would happen
soon. And I knew that if Prince Mirko really aspired to the throne
of Serbia he would be disappointed--no matter which way the cat
hopped.