6 RECOLLECTIONS OF FORTY YEARS. 



tell some of their Eastern stories. One of these 

 struck me very much, because of the very delicate 

 sentiments which it expressed as to the superior 

 morality of woman. Here it is very prosaically 

 translated : 



" ' A moth was in love with the light. Incessantly 

 attracted towards it, the moth flew close up to it. 

 But no sooner had the tip of its wing been slightly 

 scorched than it flew off again, throwing itself at 

 the feet of the cruel one, filling the air with its 

 plaintive cries. 



" ' In the meanwhile the light was dying out; 

 before throwing out its last flicker it said to its 

 lover : " Moth, you have made much ado about 

 a slight singeing of your wings ; you have re- 

 proached me unjustly ; I have loved you in silence ; 

 my flame is about to expire; I am dying. Adieu. 

 Fly to other loves ! " ' 



" Our caravan started again at an early hour, after 

 having had the satisfaction of contemplating in all 

 their splendour the Southern Cross upon the one side 

 and upon the other the North Star, an old friend 

 who had often guided me in my voyages through the 

 desert. Having reached the banks of the Nile at 

 Abu-Hamet, on January 1st, 1857, I was anxious to 

 get to Berber before nightfall, in order to wish a 

 happy new year to the Viceroy. I hurried my drome- 

 dary forward, and did seventy-five miles in the day. 

 I found the Prince alone in his tent, crying bitterly ^ 



