The Turkish dwelling, as every one knows, is divided into two parts, the _harem_ and the _selamlik_. The _selamlik_ is the part reserved for the man. Here he works, eats, sees his friends, takes his siesta, and sometimes sleeps at night. The wife never enters it, but, just as the man rules in the _selamlik_, so does she govern in the harem. She orders and arranges everything just as she chooses, and does whatever she wants to, except that of course she cannot receive male visitors. If she does not feel like seeing her husband, she can even refuse to do that, sending a polite message requesting him to return at some other time. Although the _selamlik_ is, as a rule, only separated from the _harem_ by one small door and a narrow corridor, they are, in reality, like two distinct houses, far away from one another. The male friends of the effendi who come to see him, and the ladies who call upon the hanum, neither encounter nor hear each other, and frequently are mutually unknown. In the same way, the two establishments are supplied with different servants and very commonly separate kitchens. Husband and wife seek their amusements in their own way, spending their time and their money without reference to each other, and rarely even dine together, having almost nothing in common. It is very unusual for the man to enter the harem in the character of husband or companion or as the guide and educator of his children; his visits are those of the lover: on crossing that threshold, he puts away all his cares and worries, giving himself up entirely to the soft distractions of the moment: his object is to be amused and diverted, and it would never occur to him to look there for the light and guidance of a mind more clear and serene than his own, or for even a sympathetic interest in his affairs; and, indeed, the women of Turkey would be found to be but poorly adapted to satisfy such demands were they made. The husband, moreover, is at no pains to surround himself with that halo of wisdom or strength or intelligence which might be calculated to increase his importance in his wife’s eyes. What would be the use? He is already the god of the temple, claiming worship and adoration as a right. There is no need for him to make himself more attractive. The honor which, of his bounty, he pays his wife in going to see her at all itself calls for a sentiment of gratitude sufficiently like love to satisfy him. The word “woman” has for him absolutely no association with the mind or with any of his outside interests and occupations. She belongs exclusively to his private life, and on this account he dislikes to so much as hear the word pronounced in public. If he has to announce the birth of a daughter, he will say, “‘A veiled one’ or ‘a hidden one’ or ‘a little stranger’ has been born to me.” And so it is that any real intimacy between husband and wife is out of the question: all those depths and secret recesses of the soul which can