There has been a certain amount of agitation for the abolition of the veil, but the tradition withstands reform, though it is now no more than a sort of toque, or turban, such as we also frequently wear. However, Halidé Hanoum—most advanced of feminists—has never herself abandoned the veil, probably seeing in it a Nationalist, if not a religious, symbolic significance. I wish I could reproduce at least some of the finest passages from some of her lectures. The noble spirit of her inspiration yet speaks, even to those unable to follow her words. No one can marvel that she set her hearers on fire to save “all that remained of the Turkish Empire—Anatolia.” As she has written, “It is the love of race which first made the Turks a mighty people. Whatever may come, rest assured our race cannot die. It hath immortal life. Though we stand alone against the world, our love of race will give us courage. Till we can once more stand proudly beside the nations, we will fear no obstacle and shrink from no self-sacrifice!” She gave to Mustapha Kemal Pasha, before his full powers were proven to all, the words found on the stone of an old Turkish Padishah: “God appointed me ruler, that the name and fame of the Turkish race might not be extinguished. I was not appointed to rule over a rich, but over a poor, people, scantily supplied with food and clothing. For the Turkish race I slept not at night, I rested not by day, I worked for my people till death.” Her work in Syria, interrupted, alas! by the war, has established her remarkable powers of organisation; and though she denies that she was ever actually in the Cabinet, no one can doubt that she would make a splendid Minister of Education. The deputies themselves are so eager for her admission to the Assembly, that we may easily soon hear that the department has been placed in her able hands. At Beyrout she converted the big building of the Dames de Nazareth into a fine school, where, faithful to her Western training, she gave special prominence to Swedish drill, and where, as in the American colleges, Moslem and Christian sit side by side. When the English advanced in Syria she handed over her schools, and her Armenian and Turkish orphans, to the Americans, with the womanly entreaty that they would “care for them and, above all, make them good boys and girls.”