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 a Nation"; and from Halidé Hanoum we want the thousand and one pictures of the agony of simple folk—desolate village homes, women who weep and work, the little ones crying, "What is it, mother?"; all that war means to men, all that men can endure for liberty and the right.

"What does it matter," she has written, "though the world call us pariah? We will die with honour. What does it matter if food be denied us by all our neighbours? Our own soil will keep us alive, sheltered in sackcloth!"

At Lausanne the patriot-passion is taunted for its arrogance. It is forgotten that self-made nations, like men, if made with honour, have certain rights and duties, which the most illustrious and ancient lineage cannot bestow. Moreover, we carry with ease what has come down to us through the centuries; what we have suffered and fought for, we grasp, crying maybe somewhat loudly: "Hands off!" To be in Turkey, and to learn of the heroism of her people, is to understand her moderation.

I was naturally keenly interested in the Pasha's views on women; I have been still more interested to hear that, since I was at Angora, he has put his theories into practice.

I have never spoken in England or the United States without having to answer the most absurd questions on life in a harem. This time, in London, the old nonsense was trotted out, and my replies either invented or distorted.

I was interviewed during our own Suffrage agitation, and expressed my conviction that "women must either have full liberty to earn their livelihoods in any profession, or be sheltered and protected as Turkish women are sheltered and protected." Next morning a large poster appeared with the legend, under my portrait, "English writer urges polygamy!"

The paper inserted my prompt denial, but, of course, that never was read by thousands who had