of the world described in the "Arabian Nights," where I indulge
from time to time, in the midst of Paris, in the distractions of a
vizier of Samarcand or Bagdad. There, when the shutters are closed, in
my _gynaeceum_ (or women's apartment), illuminated by lamps which shed a
soft lustre upon us, while the bluish-grey smoke from my narguile
perfumes the atmosphere, my houris lull me to sleep to the music of
their taraboucks.

With all this I am not quite so satisfied, as I would have liked to
describe myself, with certain incidents which have occurred in
connection with my harem. Certainly, they are all the natural
consequences of our life in Paris; for I don't suppose you imagine that
I had not foreseen the psychological effect which entirely new ideas
would unavoidably produce upon the profoundly ignorant minds of my
houris. Besides, a progressive and judicious emancipation from their
previous restraints formed part of my programme for them. But the
introduction into the harem of certain high-class lady's-maids,
indispensable for initiating my little animals into the subtle mysteries
of Parisian toilets, has of necessity led to their making a number of
discoveries, which have contributed in a remarkable degree to their
civilization:--hardly, however, in those elements which I could have
most desired. They have all of them got to know a great deal more than
was necessary for them about those famous "customs of our harems in
France," the principles of which I had endeavoured to teach them. Thus I
even noticed the other day that I set Zouhra and Nazli laughing when I
reminded them of some point of etiquette. Although they are still imbued
with the good principles of their native education, it is evident they
are being corrupted by the poison of Liberalism. This I am convinced of
by certain airs of assurance which they have put on, by their
coquetries, and by novel and unexpected caprices which they now display.

The "Rights of Woman" have clearly been divulged to them. They talk of
walking out by themselves, of visiting the popular theatres and
music-halls, and even Mabille, the illuminations of which struck their
fancy very much the other night, as we were passing the Avenue Montaigne
in the carriage, on our way back from the Bois. One little instance will
illustrate the situation for you. Mohammed's rank and titles have ceased
to impress them with any respect; and the day before yesterday Zouhra
actually had the impude