Now it is true that all these people are called barons, counts, viscounts, &c., but my friend belongs to a right good family, and would have been more than the equal of many of them had they met in Paris, London, St. Petersburg, Berlin, or Vienna.  The title of baron, &c., seems to me to be always given to a diplomat ex-officio.  However, barons or no barons, the rule of exclusiveness laid down by the ’sacred circle’ at Constantinople is to be deplored as it injures society sadly.  Few large parties are given now except those got up by the great people.  When an outsider sends out invitations for a ball, or any other kind of reunion, the negotiations that go on between the swells as to whether they should patronise it or not are comical in the extreme.  Should ever so slight an omission in the form of these invitations, or a mere accident in the delivery thereof, appear to them to touch their dignity, they will probably all absent themselves in a body, even were it question of the marriage or the funeral of one of their oldest and most respectable acquaintances.  Not being one of them, and not caring very much for artificial society, I look on with great amusement.  Some one gave great offence on a late occasion, while describing society in Pera, by suggesting that if there were a European court here things would be very different; so they might.  People would then find their level, as they do in other capitals.

I feel very sorry for the members of the ‘sacred circle.’  Not only do they lose much now, but it will be awkward for them when they go back from whence they came.  A short time ago I asked a very high and mighty personage if she did not fear the change that must come when she left Constantinople.  She answered with great frankness:  ’I feel that most of what you say is correct, but before I came here I was very small fry; now I know I am a swell, and mean to enjoy myself.’  She was like those reckless ones who cried:  ‘Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.’  I have seen a stand made by one or two of these mighty ones, an attempt to break down the system of pompous exclusiveness, but that attempt unfortunately failed.

I must say that the foreign colonies in Pera are much to blame, for they worship with all their minds and all their strength their different chiefs and chieftainesses, and human nature being weak, &c. &c.

Apart from the ‘sacred circle’ there is a nice little society where people go in for enjoying themselves, and succeed in doing so very comfortably; but even there, with some few exceptions, there is that secret longing for one or two of the swells—­even a junior secretary of an embassy is looked upon as a desideratum.

The Greeks keep very much to themselves; so do the Armenians.  The Turks are exceedingly fond of going into society, but their domestic arrangements tend to prevent their entertaining.

His Majesty the Sultan frequently invites European ladies to his dinner parties, and those who have had that honour must have thoroughly enjoyed the delicious music and the pleasant entertainments after dinner at the Palace of Yildiz.  I don’t see why His Imperial Majesty’s example is not followed by some of his subjects; perhaps we may yet come to that by-and-by.