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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Rasselas, by Samuel Johnson, Edited by Henry
+Morley
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Rasselas
+ Prince of Abyssinia
+
+
+Author: Samuel Johnson
+
+Editor: Henry Morley
+
+Release Date: January 31, 2013 [eBook #652]
+[This file was first posted on September 17, 1996]
+[Last updated September 8, 2020]
+
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RASSELAS***
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1889 Cassell & Company edition by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+ [Picture: Book cover]
+
+ CASSELL’S NATIONAL LIBRARY.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+ RASSELAS
+ PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ BY
+
+ SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.
+
+ [Picture: Decorative image]
+
+ CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED:
+ LONDON, PARIS & MELBOURNE.
+ 1889.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+RASSELAS was written by Samuel Johnson in the year 1759, when his age was
+fifty. He had written his _London_ in 1738; his _Vanity of Human Wishes_
+in 1740; his _Rambler_ between March, 1750, and March, 1752. In 1755 his
+_Dictionary_ had appeared, and Dublin, by giving him its honorary LL.D.,
+had enabled his friends to call him “Doctor” Johnson. His friends were
+many, and his honour among men was great. He owed them to his union of
+intellectual power with unflinching probity. But he had worked hard,
+battling against the wolf without, and the black dog within—poverty and
+hypochondria. He was still poor, though his personal wants did not
+exceed a hundred pounds a year. His wife had been seven years dead, and
+he missed her sorely. His old mother, who lived to the age of ninety,
+died poor in January of this year, 1759. In her old age, Johnson had
+sought to help her from his earnings. At her death there were some
+little debts, and there were costs of burial. That he might earn enough
+to pay them he wrote _Rasselas_.
+
+_Rasselas_ was written in the evenings of one week, and sent to press
+while being written. Johnson earned by it a hundred pounds, with
+twenty-five pounds more for a second edition. It was published in March
+or April; Johnson never read it after it had been published until more
+than twenty years afterwards. Then, finding it in a chaise with Boswell,
+he took it up and read it eagerly.
+
+This is one of Johnson’s letters to his mother, written after he knew
+that her last illness had come upon her. It is dated about ten days
+before her death. The “Miss” referred to in it was a faithful friend.
+“Miss” was his home name for an affectionate step-daughter, Lucy Porter:—
+
+ “HONOURED MADAM,—
+
+ “The account which Miss gives me of your health pierces my heart.
+ God comfort and preserve you, and save you, for the sake of Jesus
+ Christ.
+
+ “I would have Miss read to you from time to time the Passion of our
+ Saviour; and sometimes the sentences in the Communion Service
+ beginning—’Come unto me, all ye that travail and are heavy laden, and
+ I will give you rest.’
+
+ “I have just now read a physical book which inclines me to think that
+ a strong infusion of the bark would do you good. Do, dear mother,
+ try it.
+
+ “Pray, send me your blessing, and forgive all that I have done amiss
+ to you. And whatever you would have done, and what debts you would
+ have paid first, or anything else that you would direct, let Miss put
+ it down; I shall endeavour to obey you.
+
+ “I have got twelve guineas to send you” [six were borrowed. There
+ was a note in Johnson’s Diary of six guineas repaid to Allen, the
+ printer, who had lent them when he wanted to send money to his dying
+ mother], “but unhappily am at a loss how to send it to-night. If I
+ cannot send it to-night, it will come by the next post.
+
+ “Pray, do not omit anything mentioned in this letter. God bless you
+ for ever and ever.
+
+ “I am,
+ “Your dutiful Son,
+ “SAM. JOHNSON.
+
+ “_Jan._ 13, 1759.”
+
+That is the personal side of the tale of _Rasselas_. In that way Johnson
+suddenly, on urgent pressure, carried out a design that had been in his
+mind. The success of Eastern tales, written as a form of moral essay, in
+the _Rambler_ and _Adventurer_, upon suggestion, no doubt, of Addison’s
+_Vision of Mirza_, had prompted him to express his view of life more
+fully than in essay form by way of Oriental apologue; and his early work
+on Father Lobo’s Voyage to Abyssinia, caused him to choose Abyssinia for
+the land in which to lay his fable.
+
+But Johnson’s _Rasselas_ has also a close relation to the time when it
+was written, as Johnson himself had to the time in which he lived. From
+the beginning of the century—and especially, in England, since the
+beginning of the reign of George the Second—there had been a growing
+sense of the ills of life, associated in some minds with doubt whether
+there could be a just God ruling this unhappy world. Hard problems of
+humanity pressed more and more on earnest minds. The feeling expressed
+in Johnson’s _Vanity of Human __Wishes_ had deepened everywhere by the
+year 1759. This has intense expression in _Rasselas_, where all the joys
+of life, without active use of the energies of life, can give no joy; and
+where all uses of the energies of men are for the attainment of ideals
+worthless or delusive. This life was to Johnson, and to almost all the
+earnest thinkers of his time, unhappy in itself—a school-house where the
+rod was ever active. But in its unhappiness Johnson found no power that
+could overthrow his faith. To him this world was but a place of
+education for the happiness that would be to the faithful in the world to
+come. There was a great dread for him in the question, Who shall be
+found faithful? But there was no doubt in his mind that the happiness of
+man is to be found only beyond the grave. This was a feeling spread
+through Europe in the darkness gathering before the outburst of the storm
+of the great French Revolution. Even Gray, in his _Ode on a Distant
+Prospect of Eton College_, regarded Eton boys at their sports as “little
+victims,” unconscious of the doom of miseries awaiting them in life.
+Thus Johnson’s _Rasselas_ is a book doubly typical. We have in it the
+spirit of the writer when it best expressed the spirit of his time.
+
+ H. M.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+DESCRIPTION OF A PALACE IN A VALLEY.
+
+
+YE who listen with credulity to the whispers of fancy, and pursue with
+eagerness the phantoms of hope; who expect that age will perform the
+promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will be
+supplied by the morrow, attend to the history of Rasselas, Prince of
+Abyssinia.
+
+Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty Emperor in whose dominions the
+father of waters begins his course—whose bounty pours down the streams of
+plenty, and scatters over the world the harvests of Egypt.
+
+According to the custom which has descended from age to age among the
+monarchs of the torrid zone, Rasselas was confined in a private palace,
+with the other sons and daughters of Abyssinian royalty, till the order
+of succession should call him to the throne.
+
+The place which the wisdom or policy of antiquity had destined for the
+residence of the Abyssinian princes was a spacious valley in the kingdom
+of Amhara, surrounded on every side by mountains, of which the summits
+overhang the middle part. The only passage by which it could be entered
+was a cavern that passed under a rock, of which it had long been disputed
+whether it was the work of nature or of human industry. The outlet of
+the cavern was concealed by a thick wood, and the mouth which opened into
+the valley was closed with gates of iron, forged by the artificers of
+ancient days, so massive that no man, without the help of engines, could
+open or shut them.
+
+From the mountains on every side rivulets descended that filled all the
+valley with verdure and fertility, and formed a lake in the middle,
+inhabited by fish of every species, and frequented by every fowl whom
+nature has taught to dip the wing in water. This lake discharged its
+superfluities by a stream, which entered a dark cleft of the mountain on
+the northern side, and fell with dreadful noise from precipice to
+precipice till it was heard no more.
+
+The sides of the mountains were covered with trees, the banks of the
+brooks were diversified with flowers; every blast shook spices from the
+rocks, and every month dropped fruits upon the ground. All animals that
+bite the grass or browse the shrubs, whether wild or tame, wandered in
+this extensive circuit, secured from beasts of prey by the mountains
+which confined them. On one part were flocks and herds feeding in the
+pastures, on another all the beasts of chase frisking in the lawns, the
+sprightly kid was bounding on the rocks, the subtle monkey frolicking in
+the trees, and the solemn elephant reposing in the shade. All the
+diversities of the world were brought together, the blessings of nature
+were collected, and its evils extracted and excluded.
+
+The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants with all the
+necessaries of life, and all delights and superfluities were added at the
+annual visit which the Emperor paid his children, when the iron gate was
+opened to the sound of music, and during eight days every one that
+resided in the valley was required to propose whatever might contribute
+to make seclusion pleasant, to fill up the vacancies of attention, and
+lessen the tediousness of time. Every desire was immediately granted.
+All the artificers of pleasure were called to gladden the festivity; the
+musicians exerted the power of harmony, and the dancers showed their
+activity before the princes, in hopes that they should pass their lives
+in blissful captivity, to which those only were admitted whose
+performance was thought able to add novelty to luxury. Such was the
+appearance of security and delight which this retirement afforded, that
+they to whom it was new always desired that it might be perpetual; and as
+those on whom the iron gate had once closed were never suffered to
+return, the effect of longer experience could not be known. Thus every
+year produced new scenes of delight, and new competitors for
+imprisonment.
+
+The palace stood on an eminence, raised about thirty paces above the
+surface of the lake. It was divided into many squares or courts, built
+with greater or less magnificence according to the rank of those for whom
+they were designed. The roofs were turned into arches of massive stone,
+joined by a cement that grew harder by time, and the building stood from
+century to century, deriding the solstitial rains and equinoctial
+hurricanes, without need of reparation.
+
+This house, which was so large as to be fully known to none but some
+ancient officers, who successively inherited the secrets of the place,
+was built as if Suspicion herself had dictated the plan. To every room
+there was an open and secret passage; every square had a communication
+with the rest, either from the upper storeys by private galleries, or by
+subterraneous passages from the lower apartments. Many of the columns
+had unsuspected cavities, in which a long race of monarchs had deposited
+their treasures. They then closed up the opening with marble, which was
+never to be removed but in the utmost exigences of the kingdom, and
+recorded their accumulations in a book, which was itself concealed in a
+tower, not entered but by the Emperor, attended by the prince who stood
+next in succession.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+THE DISCONTENT OF RASSELAS IN THE HAPPY VALLEY.
+
+
+HERE the sons and daughters of Abyssinia lived only to know the soft
+vicissitudes of pleasure and repose, attended by all that were skilful to
+delight, and gratified with whatever the senses can enjoy. They wandered
+in gardens of fragrance, and slept in the fortresses of security. Every
+art was practised to make them pleased with their own condition. The
+sages who instructed them told them of nothing but the miseries of public
+life, and described all beyond the mountains as regions of calamity,
+where discord was always racing, and where man preyed upon man. To
+heighten their opinion of their own felicity, they were daily entertained
+with songs, the subject of which was the Happy Valley. Their appetites
+were excited by frequent enumerations of different enjoyments, and
+revelry and merriment were the business of every hour, from the dawn of
+morning to the close of the evening.
+
+These methods were generally successful; few of the princes had ever
+wished to enlarge their bounds, but passed their lives in full conviction
+that they had all within their reach that art or nature could bestow, and
+pitied those whom nature had excluded from this seat of tranquillity as
+the sport of chance and the slaves of misery.
+
+Thus they rose in the morning and lay down at night, pleased with each
+other and with themselves, all but Rasselas, who, in the twenty-sixth
+year of his age, began to withdraw himself from the pastimes and
+assemblies, and to delight in solitary walks and silent meditation. He
+often sat before tables covered with luxury, and forgot to taste the
+dainties that were placed before him; he rose abruptly in the midst of
+the song, and hastily retired beyond the sound of music. His attendants
+observed the change, and endeavoured to renew his love of pleasure. He
+neglected their officiousness, repulsed their invitations, and spent day
+after day on the banks of rivulets sheltered with trees, where he
+sometimes listened to the birds in the branches, sometimes observed the
+fish playing in the streams, and anon cast his eyes upon the pastures and
+mountains filled with animals, of which some were biting the herbage, and
+some sleeping among the bushes. The singularity of his humour made him
+much observed. One of the sages, in whose conversation he had formerly
+delighted, followed him secretly, in hope of discovering the cause of his
+disquiet. Rasselas, who knew not that any one was near him, having for
+some time fixed his eyes upon the goats that were browsing among the
+rocks, began to compare their condition with his own.
+
+“What,” said he, “makes the difference between man and all the rest of
+the animal creation? Every beast that strays beside me has the same
+corporal necessities with myself: he is hungry, and crops the grass; he
+is thirsty, and drinks the stream; his thirst and hunger are appeased; he
+is satisfied, and sleeps; he rises again, and is hungry; he is again fed,
+and is at rest. I am hungry and thirsty, like him, but when thirst and
+hunger cease, I am not at rest. I am, like him, pained with want, but am
+not, like him, satisfied with fulness. The intermediate hours are
+tedious and gloomy; I long again to be hungry that I may again quicken
+the attention. The birds peck the berries or the corn, and fly away to
+the groves, where they sit in seeming happiness on the branches, and
+waste their lives in tuning one unvaried series of sounds. I likewise
+can call the lutist and the singer; but the sounds that pleased me
+yesterday weary me to-day, and will grow yet more wearisome to-morrow. I
+can discover in me no power of perception which is not glutted with its
+proper pleasure, yet I do not feel myself delighted. Man surely has some
+latent sense for which this place affords no gratification; or he has
+some desire distinct from sense, which must be satisfied before he can be
+happy.”
+
+After this he lifted up his head, and seeing the moon rising, walked
+towards the palace. As he passed through the fields, and saw the animals
+around him, “Ye,” said he, “are happy, and need not envy me that walk
+thus among you, burdened with myself; nor do I, ye gentle beings, envy
+your felicity; for it is not the felicity of man. I have many distresses
+from which you are free; I fear pain when I do not feel it; I sometimes
+shrink at evils recollected, and sometimes start at evils anticipated:
+surely the equity of Providence has balanced peculiar sufferings with
+peculiar enjoyments.”
+
+With observations like these the Prince amused himself as he returned,
+uttering them with a plaintive voice, yet with a look that discovered him
+to feel some complacence in his own perspicacity, and to receive some
+solace of the miseries of life from consciousness of the delicacy with
+which he felt and the eloquence with which he bewailed them. He mingled
+cheerfully in the diversions of the evening, and all rejoiced to find
+that his heart was lightened.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+THE WANTS OF HIM THAT WANTS NOTHING.
+
+
+ON the next day, his old instructor, imagining that he had now made
+himself acquainted with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing it by
+counsel, and officiously sought an opportunity of conference, which the
+Prince, having long considered him as one whose intellects were
+exhausted, was not very willing to afford. “Why,” said he, “does this
+man thus intrude upon me? Shall I never be suffered to forget these
+lectures, which pleased only while they were new, and to become new again
+must be forgotten?” He then walked into the wood, and composed himself
+to his usual meditations; when, before his thoughts had taken any settled
+form, he perceived his pursuer at his side, and was at first prompted by
+his impatience to go hastily away; but being unwilling to offend a man
+whom he had once reverenced and still loved, he invited him to sit down
+with him on the bank.
+
+The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change which had been
+lately observed in the Prince, and to inquire why he so often retired
+from the pleasures of the palace to loneliness and silence. “I fly from
+pleasure,” said the Prince, “because pleasure has ceased to please: I am
+lonely because I am miserable, and am unwilling to cloud with my presence
+the happiness of others.” “You, sir,” said the sage, “are the first who
+has complained of misery in the Happy Valley. I hope to convince you
+that your complaints have no real cause. You are here in full possession
+of all the Emperor of Abyssinia can bestow; here is neither labour to be
+endured nor danger to be dreaded, yet here is all that labour or danger
+can procure or purchase. Look round and tell me which of your wants is
+without supply: if you want nothing, how are you unhappy?”
+
+“That I want nothing,” said the Prince, “or that I know not what I want,
+is the cause of my complaint: if I had any known want, I should have a
+certain wish; that wish would excite endeavour, and I should not then
+repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the western mountains, or to
+lament when the day breaks, and sleep will no longer hide me from myself.
+When I see the kids and the lambs chasing one another, I fancy that I
+should be happy if I had something to pursue. But, possessing all that I
+can want, I find one day and one hour exactly like another, except that
+the latter is still more tedious than the former. Let your experience
+inform me how the day may now seem as short as in my childhood, while
+nature was yet fresh, and every moment showed me what I never had
+observed before. I have already enjoyed too much: give me something to
+desire.” The old man was surprised at this new species of affliction,
+and knew not what to reply, yet was unwilling to be silent. “Sir,” said
+he, “if you had seen the miseries of the world, you would know how to
+value your present state.” “Now,” said the Prince, “you have given me
+something to desire. I shall long to see the miseries of the world,
+since the sight of them is necessary to happiness.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+THE PRINCE CONTINUES TO GRIEVE AND MUSE.
+
+
+AT this time the sound of music proclaimed the hour of repast, and the
+conversation was concluded. The old man went away sufficiently
+discontented to find that his reasonings had produced the only conclusion
+which they were intended to prevent. But in the decline of life, shame
+and grief are of short duration: whether it be that we bear easily what
+we have borne long; or that, finding ourselves in age less regarded, we
+less regard others; or that we look with slight regard upon afflictions
+to which we know that the hand of death is about to put an end.
+
+The Prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could not
+speedily quiet his emotions. He had been before terrified at the length
+of life which nature promised him, because he considered that in a long
+time much must be endured: he now rejoiced in his youth, because in many
+years much might be done. The first beam of hope that had been ever
+darted into his mind rekindled youth in his cheeks, and doubled the
+lustre of his eyes. He was fired with the desire of doing something,
+though he knew not yet, with distinctness, either end or means. He was
+now no longer gloomy and unsocial; but considering himself as master of a
+secret stock of happiness, which he could only enjoy by concealing it, he
+affected to be busy in all the schemes of diversion, and endeavoured to
+make others pleased with the state of which he himself was weary. But
+pleasures can never be so multiplied or continued as not to leave much of
+life unemployed; there were many hours, both of the night and day, which
+he could spend without suspicion in solitary thought. The load of life
+was much lightened; he went eagerly into the assemblies, because he
+supposed the frequency of his presence necessary to the success of his
+purposes; he retired gladly to privacy, because he had now a subject of
+thought. His chief amusement was to picture to himself that world which
+he had never seen, to place himself in various conditions, to be
+entangled in imaginary difficulties, and to be engaged in wild
+adventures; but, his benevolence always terminated his projects in the
+relief of distress, the detection of fraud, the defeat of oppression, and
+the diffusion of happiness.
+
+Thus passed twenty months of the life of Rasselas. He busied himself so
+intensely in visionary bustle that he forgot his real solitude; and
+amidst hourly preparations for the various incidents of human affairs,
+neglected to consider by what means he should mingle with mankind.
+
+One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself an orphan
+virgin robbed of her little portion by a treacherous lover, and crying
+after him for restitution. So strongly was the image impressed upon his
+mind that he started up in the maid’s defence, and ran forward to seize
+the plunderer with all the eagerness of real pursuit. Fear naturally
+quickens the flight of guilt. Rasselas could not catch the fugitive with
+his utmost efforts; but, resolving to weary by perseverance him whom he
+could not surpass in speed, he pressed on till the foot of the mountain
+stopped his course.
+
+Here he recollected himself, and smiled at his own useless impetuosity.
+Then raising his eyes to the mountain, “This,” said he, “is the fatal
+obstacle that hinders at once the enjoyment of pleasure and the exercise
+of virtue. How long is it that my hopes and wishes have flown beyond
+this boundary of my life, which yet I never have attempted to surmount?”
+
+Struck with this reflection, he sat down to muse, and remembered that
+since he first resolved to escape from his confinement, the sun had
+passed twice over him in his annual course. He now felt a degree of
+regret with which he had never been before acquainted. He considered how
+much might have been done in the time which had passed, and left nothing
+real behind it. He compared twenty months with the life of man. “In
+life,” said he, “is not to be counted the ignorance of infancy or
+imbecility of age. We are long before we are able to think, and we soon
+cease from the power of acting. The true period of human existence may
+be reasonably estimated at forty years, of which I have mused away the
+four-and-twentieth part. What I have lost was certain, for I have
+certainly possessed it; but of twenty months to come, who can assure me?”
+
+The consciousness of his own folly pierced him deeply, and he was long
+before he could be reconciled to himself. “The rest of my time,” said
+he, “has been lost by the crime or folly of my ancestors, and the absurd
+institutions of my country; I remember it with disgust, yet without
+remorse: but the months that have passed since new light darted into my
+soul, since I formed a scheme of reasonable felicity, have been
+squandered by my own fault. I have lost that which can never be
+restored; I have seen the sun rise and set for twenty months, an idle
+gazer on the light of heaven; in this time the birds have left the nest
+of their mother, and committed themselves to the woods and to the skies;
+the kid has forsaken the teat, and learned by degrees to climb the rocks
+in quest of independent sustenance. I only have made no advances, but am
+still helpless and ignorant. The moon, by more than twenty changes,
+admonished me of the flux of life; the stream that rolled before my feet
+upbraided my inactivity. I sat feasting on intellectual luxury,
+regardless alike of the examples of the earth and the instructions of the
+planets. Twenty months are passed: who shall restore them?”
+
+These sorrowful meditations fastened upon his mind; he passed four months
+in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves, and was awakened to
+more vigorous exertion by hearing a maid, who had broken a porcelain cup,
+remark that what cannot be repaired is not to be regretted.
+
+This was obvious; and Rasselas reproached himself that he had not
+discovered it—having not known, or not considered, how many useful hints
+are obtained by chance, and how often the mind, hurried by her own ardour
+to distant views, neglects the truths that lie open before her. He for a
+few hours regretted his regret, and from that time bent his whole mind
+upon the means of escaping from the Valley of Happiness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+THE PRINCE MEDITATES HIS ESCAPE.
+
+
+HE now found that it would be very difficult to effect that which it was
+very easy to suppose effected. When he looked round about him, he saw
+himself confined by the bars of nature, which had never yet been broken,
+and by the gate through which none that had once passed it were ever able
+to return. He was now impatient as an eagle in a grate. He passed week
+after week in clambering the mountains to see if there was any aperture
+which the bushes might conceal, but found all the summits inaccessible by
+their prominence. The iron gate he despaired to open for it was not only
+secured with all the power of art, but was always watched by successive
+sentinels, and was, by its position, exposed to the perpetual observation
+of all the inhabitants.
+
+He then examined the cavern through which the waters of the lake were
+discharged; and, looking down at a time when the sun shone strongly upon
+its mouth, he discovered it to be full of broken rocks, which, though
+they permitted the stream to flow through many narrow passages, would
+stop any body of solid bulk. He returned discouraged and dejected; but
+having now known the blessing of hope, resolved never to despair.
+
+In these fruitless researches he spent ten months. The time, however,
+passed cheerfully away—in the morning he rose with new hope; in the
+evening applauded his own diligence; and in the night slept soundly after
+his fatigue. He met a thousand amusements, which beguiled his labour and
+diversified his thoughts. He discerned the various instincts of animals
+and properties of plants, and found the place replete with wonders, of
+which he proposed to solace himself with the contemplation if he should
+never be able to accomplish his flight—rejoicing that his endeavours,
+though yet unsuccessful, had supplied him with a source of inexhaustible
+inquiry. But his original curiosity was not yet abated; he resolved to
+obtain some knowledge of the ways of men. His wish still continued, but
+his hope grew less. He ceased to survey any longer the walls of his
+prison, and spared to search by new toils for interstices which he knew
+could not be found, yet determined to keep his design always in view, and
+lay hold on any expedient that time should offer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+A DISSERTATION ON THE ART OF FLYING.
+
+
+AMONG the artists that had been allured into the Happy Valley, to labour
+for the accommodation and pleasure of its inhabitants, was a man eminent
+for his knowledge of the mechanic powers, who had contrived many engines
+both of use and recreation. By a wheel which the stream turned he forced
+the water into a tower, whence it was distributed to all the apartments
+of the palace. He erected a pavilion in the garden, around which he kept
+the air always cool by artificial showers. One of the groves,
+appropriated to the ladies, was ventilated by fans, to which the rivulets
+that ran through it gave a constant motion; and instruments of soft music
+were played at proper distances, of which some played by the impulse of
+the wind, and some by the power of the stream.
+
+This artist was sometimes visited by Rasselas who was pleased with every
+kind of knowledge, imagining that the time would come when all his
+acquisitions should be of use to him in the open world. He came one day
+to amuse himself in his usual manner, and found the master busy in
+building a sailing chariot. He saw that the design was practicable upon
+a level surface, and with expressions of great esteem solicited its
+completion. The workman was pleased to find himself so much regarded by
+the Prince, and resolved to gain yet higher honours. “Sir,” said he,
+“you have seen but a small part of what the mechanic sciences can
+perform. I have been long of opinion that, instead of the tardy
+conveyance of ships and chariots, man might use the swifter migration of
+wings, that the fields of air are open to knowledge, and that only
+ignorance and idleness need crawl upon the ground.”
+
+This hint rekindled the Prince’s desire of passing the mountains. Having
+seen what the mechanist had already performed, he was willing to fancy
+that he could do more, yet resolved to inquire further before he suffered
+hope to afflict him by disappointment. “I am afraid,” said he to the
+artist, “that your imagination prevails over your skill, and that you now
+tell me rather what you wish than what you know. Every animal has his
+element assigned him; the birds have the air, and man and beasts the
+earth.” “So,” replied the mechanist, “fishes have the water, in which
+yet beasts can swim by nature and man by art. He that can swim needs not
+despair to fly; to swim is to fly in a grosser fluid, and to fly is to
+swim in a subtler. We are only to proportion our power of resistance to
+the different density of matter through which we are to pass. You will
+be necessarily up-borne by the air if you can renew any impulse upon it
+faster than the air can recede from the pressure.”
+
+“But the exercise of swimming,” said the Prince, “is very laborious; the
+strongest limbs are soon wearied. I am afraid the act of flying will be
+yet more violent; and wings will be of no great use unless we can fly
+further than we can swim.”
+
+“The labour of rising from the ground,” said the artist, “will be great,
+as we see it in the heavier domestic fowls; but as we mount higher the
+earth’s attraction and the body’s gravity will be gradually diminished,
+till we shall arrive at a region where the man shall float in the air
+without any tendency to fall; no care will then be necessary but to move
+forward, which the gentlest impulse will effect. You, sir, whose
+curiosity is so extensive, will easily conceive with what pleasure a
+philosopher, furnished with wings and hovering in the sky, would see the
+earth and all its inhabitants rolling beneath him, and presenting to him
+successively, by its diurnal motion, all the countries within the same
+parallel. How must it amuse the pendent spectator to see the moving
+scene of land and ocean, cities and deserts; to survey with equal
+security the marts of trade and the fields of battle; mountains infested
+by barbarians, and fruitful regions gladdened by plenty and lulled by
+peace. How easily shall we then trace the Nile through all his passages,
+pass over to distant regions, and examine the face of nature from one
+extremity of the earth to the other.”
+
+“All this,” said the Prince, “is much to be desired, but I am afraid that
+no man will be able to breathe in these regions of speculation and
+tranquillity. I have been told that respiration is difficult upon lofty
+mountains, yet from these precipices, though so high as to produce great
+tenuity of air, it is very easy to fall; therefore I suspect that from
+any height where life can be supported, there may be danger of too quick
+descent.”
+
+“Nothing,” replied the artist, “will ever be attempted if all possible
+objections must be first overcome. If you will favour my project, I will
+try the first flight at my own hazard. I have considered the structure
+of all volant animals, and find the folding continuity of the bat’s wings
+most easily accommodated to the human form. Upon this model I shall
+begin my task to-morrow, and in a year expect to tower into the air
+beyond the malice and pursuit of man. But I will work only on this
+condition, that the art shall not be divulged, and that you shall not
+require me to make wings for any but ourselves.”
+
+“Why,” said Rasselas, “should you envy others so great an advantage? All
+skill ought to be exerted for universal good; every man has owed much to
+others, and ought to repay the kindness that he has received.”
+
+“If men were all virtuous,” returned the artist, “I should with great
+alacrity teach them to fly. But what would be the security of the good
+if the bad could at pleasure invade them from the sky? Against an army
+sailing through the clouds neither walls, mountains, nor seas could
+afford security. A flight of northern savages might hover in the wind
+and light with irresistible violence upon the capital of a fruitful
+reason. Even this valley, the retreat of princes, the abode of
+happiness, might be violated by the sudden descent of some of the naked
+nations that swarm on the coast of the southern sea!”
+
+The Prince promised secrecy, and waited for the performance, not wholly
+hopeless of success. He visited the work from time to time, observed its
+progress, and remarked many ingenious contrivances to facilitate motion
+and unite levity with strength. The artist was every day more certain
+that he should leave vultures and eagles behind him, and the contagion of
+his confidence seized upon the Prince. In a year the wings were
+finished; and on a morning appointed the maker appeared, furnished for
+flight, on a little promontory; he waved his pinions awhile to gather
+air, then leaped from his stand, and in an instant dropped into the lake.
+His wings, which were of no use in the air, sustained him in the water;
+and the Prince drew him to land half dead with terror and vexation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+THE PRINCE FINDS A MAN OF LEARNING.
+
+
+THE Prince was not much afflicted by this disaster, having suffered
+himself to hope for a happier event only because he had no other means of
+escape in view. He still persisted in his design to leave the Happy
+Valley by the first opportunity.
+
+His imagination was now at a stand; he had no prospect of entering into
+the world, and, notwithstanding all his endeavours to support himself,
+discontent by degrees preyed upon him, and he began again to lose his
+thoughts in sadness when the rainy season, which in these countries is
+periodical, made it inconvenient to wander in the woods.
+
+The rain continued longer and with more violence than had ever been
+known; the clouds broke on the surrounding mountains, and the torrents
+streamed into the plain on every side, till the cavern was too narrow to
+discharge the water. The lake overflowed its banks, and all the level of
+the valley was covered with the inundation. The eminence on which the
+palace was built, and some other spots of rising ground, were all that
+the eye could now discover. The herds and flocks left the pasture, and
+both the wild beasts and the tame retreated to the mountains.
+
+This inundation confined all the princes to domestic amusements, and the
+attention of Rasselas was particularly seized by a poem (which Imlac
+rehearsed) upon the various conditions of humanity. He commanded the
+poet to attend him in his apartment, and recite his verses a second time;
+then entering into familiar talk, he thought himself happy in having
+found a man who knew the world so well, and could so skilfully paint the
+scenes of life. He asked a thousand questions about things to which,
+though common to all other mortals, his confinement from childhood had
+kept him a stranger. The poet pitied his ignorance, and loved his
+curiosity, and entertained him from day to day with novelty and
+instruction so that the Prince regretted the necessity of sleep, and
+longed till the morning should renew his pleasure.
+
+As they were sitting together, the Prince commanded Imlac to relate his
+history, and to tell by what accident he was forced, or by what motive
+induced, to close his life in the Happy Valley. As he was going to begin
+his narrative, Rasselas was called to a concert, and obliged to restrain
+his curiosity till the evening.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+THE HISTORY OF IMLAC.
+
+
+THE close of the day is, in the regions of the torrid zone, the only
+season of diversion and entertainment, and it was therefore midnight
+before the music ceased and the princesses retired. Rasselas then called
+for his companion, and required him to begin the story of his life.
+
+“Sir,” said Imlac, “my history will not be long: the life that is devoted
+to knowledge passes silently away, and is very little diversified by
+events. To talk in public, to think in solitude, to read and to hear, to
+inquire and answer inquiries, is the business of a scholar. He wanders
+about the world without pomp or terror, and is neither known nor valued
+but by men like himself.
+
+“I was born in the kingdom of Goiama, at no great distance from the
+fountain of the Nile. My father was a wealthy merchant, who traded
+between the inland countries of Africa and the ports of the Red Sea. He
+was honest, frugal, and diligent, but of mean sentiments and narrow
+comprehension; he desired only to be rich, and to conceal his riches,
+lest he should be spoiled by the governors of the province.”
+
+“Surely,” said the Prince, “my father must be negligent of his charge if
+any man in his dominions dares take that which belongs to another. Does
+he not know that kings are accountable for injustice permitted as well as
+done? If I were Emperor, not the meanest of my subjects should be
+oppressed with impunity. My blood boils when I am told that a merchant
+durst not enjoy his honest gains for fear of losing them by the rapacity
+of power. Name the governor who robbed the people that I may declare his
+crimes to the Emperor!”
+
+“Sir,” said Imlac, “your ardour is the natural effect of virtue animated
+by youth. The time will come when you will acquit your father, and
+perhaps hear with less impatience of the governor. Oppression is, in the
+Abyssinian dominions, neither frequent nor tolerated; but no form of
+government has been yet discovered by which cruelty can be wholly
+prevented. Subordination supposes power on one part and subjection on
+the other; and if power be in the hands of men it will sometimes be
+abused. The vigilance of the supreme magistrate may do much, but much
+will still remain undone. He can never know all the crimes that are
+committed, and can seldom punish all that he knows.”
+
+“This,” said the Prince, “I do not understand; but I had rather hear thee
+than dispute. Continue thy narration.”
+
+“My father,” proceeded Imlac, “originally intended that I should have no
+other education than such as might qualify me for commerce; and
+discovering in me great strength of memory and quickness of apprehension,
+often declared his hope that I should be some time the richest man in
+Abyssinia.”
+
+“Why,” said the Prince, “did thy father desire the increase of his wealth
+when it was already greater than he durst discover or enjoy? I am
+unwilling to doubt thy veracity, yet inconsistencies cannot both be
+true.”
+
+“Inconsistencies,” answered Imlac, “cannot both be right; but, imputed to
+man, they may both be true. Yet diversity is not inconsistency. My
+father might expect a time of greater security. However, some desire is
+necessary to keep life in motion; and he whose real wants are supplied
+must admit those of fancy.”
+
+“This,” said the Prince, “I can in some measure conceive. I repent that
+I interrupted thee.”
+
+“With this hope,” proceeded Imlac, “he sent me to school. But when I had
+once found the delight of knowledge, and felt the pleasure of
+intelligence and the pride of invention, I began silently to despise
+riches, and determined to disappoint the purposes of my father, whose
+grossness of conception raised my pity. I was twenty years old before
+his tenderness would expose me to the fatigue of travel; in which time I
+had been instructed, by successive masters, in all the literature of my
+native country. As every hour taught me something new, I lived in a
+continual course of gratification; but as I advanced towards manhood, I
+lost much of the reverence with which I had been used to look on my
+instructors; because when the lessons were ended I did not find them
+wiser or better than common men.
+
+“At length my father resolved to initiate me in commerce; and, opening
+one of his subterranean treasuries, counted out ten thousand pieces of
+gold. ‘This, young man,’ said he, ‘is the stock with which you must
+negotiate. I began with less than a fifth part, and you see how
+diligence and parsimony have increased it. This is your own, to waste or
+improve. If you squander it by negligence or caprice, you must wait for
+my death before you will be rich; if in four years you double your stock,
+we will thenceforward let subordination cease, and live together as
+friends and partners, for he shall be always equal with me who is equally
+skilled in the art of growing rich.’
+
+“We laid out our money upon camels, concealed in bales of cheap goods,
+and travelled to the shore of the Red Sea. When I cast my eye on the
+expanse of waters, my heart bounded like that of a prisoner escaped. I
+felt an inextinguishable curiosity kindle in my mind, and resolved to
+snatch this opportunity of seeing the manners of other nations, and of
+learning sciences unknown in Abyssinia.
+
+“I remembered that my father had obliged me to the improvement of my
+stock, not by a promise, which I ought not to violate, but by a penalty,
+which I was at liberty to incur; and therefore determined to gratify my
+predominant desire, and, by drinking at the fountain of knowledge, to
+quench the thirst of curiosity.
+
+“As I was supposed to trade without connection with my father, it was
+easy for me to become acquainted with the master of a ship, and procure a
+passage to some other country. I had no motives of choice to regulate my
+voyage. It was sufficient for me that, wherever I wandered, I should see
+a country which I had not seen before. I therefore entered a ship bound
+for Surat, having left a letter for my father declaring my intention.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+THE HISTORY OF IMLAC (_continued_).
+
+
+“WHEN I first entered upon the world of waters, and lost sight of land, I
+looked round about me in pleasing terror, and thinking my soul enlarged
+by the boundless prospect, imagined that I could gaze around me for ever
+without satiety; but in a short time I grew weary of looking on barren
+uniformity, where I could only see again what I had already seen. I then
+descended into the ship, and doubted for awhile whether all my future
+pleasures would not end, like this, in disgust and disappointment. ‘Yet
+surely,’ said I, ‘the ocean and the land are very different. The only
+variety of water is rest and motion. But the earth has mountains and
+valleys, deserts and cities; it is inhabited by men of different customs
+and contrary opinions; and I may hope to find variety in life, though I
+should miss it in nature.’
+
+“With this thought I quieted my mind, and amused myself during the
+voyage, sometimes by learning from the sailors the art of navigation,
+which I have never practised, and sometimes by forming schemes for my
+conduct in different situations, in not one of which I have been ever
+placed.
+
+“I was almost weary of my naval amusements when we safely landed at
+Surat. I secured my money and, purchasing some commodities for show,
+joined myself to a caravan that was passing into the inland country. My
+companions, for some reason or other, conjecturing that I was rich, and,
+by my inquiries and admiration, finding that I was ignorant, considered
+me as a novice whom they had a right to cheat, and who was to learn, at
+the usual expense, the art of fraud. They exposed me to the theft of
+servants and the exaction of officers, and saw me plundered upon false
+pretences, without any advantage to themselves but that of rejoicing in
+the superiority of their own knowledge.”
+
+“Stop a moment,” said the Prince; “is there such depravity in man as that
+he should injure another without benefit to himself? I can easily
+conceive that all are pleased with superiority; but your ignorance was
+merely accidental, which, being neither your crime nor your folly, could
+afford them no reason to applaud themselves; and the knowledge which they
+had, and which you wanted, they might as effectually have shown by
+warning as betraying you.”
+
+“Pride,” said Imlac, “is seldom delicate; it will please itself with very
+mean advantages, and envy feels not its own happiness but when it may be
+compared with the misery of others. They were my enemies because they
+grieved to think me rich, and my oppressors because they delighted to
+find me weak.”
+
+“Proceed,” said the Prince; “I doubt not of the facts which you relate,
+but imagine that you impute them to mistaken motives.”
+
+“In this company,” said Imlac, “I arrived at Agra, the capital of
+Hindostan, the city in which the Great Mogul commonly resides. I applied
+myself to the language of the country, and in a few months was able to
+converse with the learned men; some of whom I found morose and reserved,
+and others easy and communicative; some were unwilling to teach another
+what they had with difficulty learned themselves; and some showed that
+the end of their studies was to gain the dignity of instructing.
+
+“To the tutor of the young princes I recommended myself so much that I
+was presented to the Emperor as a man of uncommon knowledge. The Emperor
+asked me many questions concerning my country and my travels, and though
+I cannot now recollect anything that he uttered above the power of a
+common man, he dismissed me astonished at his wisdom and enamoured of his
+goodness.
+
+“My credit was now so high that the merchants with whom I had travelled
+applied to me for recommendations to the ladies of the Court. I was
+surprised at their confidence of solicitation and greatly reproached them
+with their practices on the road. They heard me with cold indifference,
+and showed no tokens of shame or sorrow.
+
+“They then urged their request with the offer of a bribe, but what I
+would not do for kindness I would not do for money, and refused them, not
+because they had injured me, but because I would not enable them to
+injure others; for I knew they would have made use of my credit to cheat
+those who should buy their wares.
+
+“Having resided at Agra till there was no more to be learned, I travelled
+into Persia, where I saw many remains of ancient magnificence and
+observed many new accommodations of life. The Persians are a nation
+eminently social, and their assemblies afforded me daily opportunities of
+remarking characters and manners, and of tracing human nature through all
+its variations.
+
+“From Persia I passed into Arabia, where I saw a nation pastoral and
+warlike, who lived without any settled habitation, whose wealth is their
+flocks and herds, and who have carried on through ages an hereditary war
+with mankind, though they neither covet nor envy their possessions.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+IMLAC’S HISTORY (_continued_)—A DISSERTATION UPON POETRY.
+
+
+“WHEREVER I went I found that poetry was considered as the highest
+learning, and regarded with a veneration somewhat approaching to that
+which man would pay to angelic nature. And yet it fills me with wonder
+that in almost all countries the most ancient poets are considered as the
+best; whether it be that every other kind of knowledge is an acquisition
+greatly attained, and poetry is a gift conferred at once; or that the
+first poetry of every nation surprised them as a novelty, and retained
+the credit by consent which it received by accident at first; or whether,
+as the province of poetry is to describe nature and passion, which are
+always the same, the first writers took possession of the most striking
+objects for description and the most probable occurrences for fiction,
+and left nothing to those that followed them but transcription of the
+same events and new combinations of the same images. Whatever be the
+reason, it is commonly observed that the early writers are in possession
+of nature, and their followers of art; that the first excel in strength
+and invention, and the latter in elegance and refinement.
+
+“I was desirous to add my name to this illustrious fraternity. I read
+all the poets of Persia and Arabia, and was able to repeat by memory the
+volumes that are suspended in the mosque of Mecca. But I soon found that
+no man was ever great by imitations. My desire of excellence impelled me
+to transfer my attention to nature and to life. Nature was to be my
+subject, and men to be my auditors. I could never describe what I had
+not seen. I could not hope to move those with delight or terror whose
+interests and opinions I did not understand.
+
+“Being now resolved to be a poet, I saw everything with a new purpose; my
+sphere of attention was suddenly magnified; no kind of knowledge was to
+be overlooked. I ranged mountains and deserts for images and
+resemblances, and pictured upon my mind every tree of the forest and
+flower of the valley. I observed with equal care the crags of the rock
+and the pinnacles of the palace. Sometimes I wandered along the mazes of
+the rivulet, and sometimes watched the changes of the summer clouds. To
+a poet nothing can be useless. Whatever is beautiful and whatever is
+dreadful must be familiar to his imagination; he must be conversant with
+all that is awfully vast or elegantly little. The plants of the garden,
+the animals of the wood, the minerals of the earth, and meteors of the
+sky, must all concur to store his mind with inexhaustible variety; for
+every idea is useful for the enforcement or decoration of moral or
+religious truth, and he who knows most will have most power of
+diversifying his scenes and of gratifying his reader with remote
+allusions and unexpected instruction.
+
+“All the appearances of nature I was therefore careful to study, and
+every country which I have surveyed has contributed something to my
+poetical powers.”
+
+“In so wide a survey,” said the Prince, “you must surely have left much
+unobserved. I have lived till now within the circuit of the mountains,
+and yet cannot walk abroad without the sight of something which I had
+never beheld before, or never heeded.”
+
+“This business of a poet,” said Imlac, “is to examine, not the
+individual, but the species; to remark general properties and large
+appearances. He does not number the streaks of the tulip, or describe
+the different shades of the verdure of the forest. He is to exhibit in
+his portraits of nature such prominent and striking features as recall
+the original to every mind, and must neglect the minuter discriminations,
+which one may have remarked and another have neglected, for those
+characteristics which are alike obvious to vigilance and carelessness.
+
+“But the knowledge of nature is only half the task of a poet; he must be
+acquainted likewise with all the modes of life. His character requires
+that he estimate the happiness and misery of every condition, observe the
+power of all the passions in all their combinations, and trace the
+changes of the human mind, as they are modified by various institutions
+and accidental influences of climate or custom, from the sprightliness of
+infancy to the despondence of decrepitude. He must divest himself of the
+prejudices of his age and country; he must consider right and wrong in
+their abstracted and invariable state; he must disregard present laws and
+opinions, and rise to general and transcendental truths, which will
+always be the same. He must, therefore, content himself with the slow
+progress of his name, contemn the praise of his own time, and commit his
+claims to the justice of posterity. He must write as the interpreter of
+nature and the legislator of mankind, and consider himself as presiding
+over the thoughts and manners of future generations, as a being superior
+to time and place.
+
+“His labour is not yet at an end. He must know many languages and many
+sciences, and, that his style may be worthy of his thoughts, must by
+incessant practice familiarise to himself every delicacy of speech and
+grace of harmony.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+IMLAC’S NARRATIVE (_continued_)—A HINT OF PILGRIMAGE.
+
+
+IMLAC now felt the enthusiastic fit, and was proceeding to aggrandise his
+own profession, when then Prince cried out: “Enough! thou hast convinced
+me that no human being can ever be a poet. Proceed with thy narration.”
+
+“To be a poet,” said Imlac, “is indeed very difficult.”
+
+“So difficult,” returned the Prince, “that I will at present hear no more
+of his labours. Tell me whither you went when you had seen Persia.”
+
+“From Persia,” said the poet, “I travelled through Syria, and for three
+years resided in Palestine, where I conversed with great numbers of the
+northern and western nations of Europe, the nations which are now in
+possession of all power and all knowledge, whose armies are irresistible,
+and whose fleets command the remotest parts of the globe. When I
+compared these men with the natives of our own kingdom and those that
+surround us, they appeared almost another order of beings. In their
+countries it is difficult to wish for anything that may not be obtained;
+a thousand arts, of which we never heard, are continually labouring for
+their convenience and pleasure, and whatever their own climate has denied
+them is supplied by their commerce.”
+
+“By what means,” said the Prince, “are the Europeans thus powerful? or
+why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa for trade or
+conquest, cannot the Asiatics and Africans invade their coast, plant
+colonies in their ports, and give laws to their natural princes? The
+same wind that carries them back would bring us thither.”
+
+“They are more powerful, sir, than we,” answered Imlac, “because they are
+wiser; knowledge will always predominate over ignorance, as man governs
+the other animals. But why their knowledge is more than ours I know not
+what reason can be given but the unsearchable will of the Supreme Being.”
+
+“When,” said the Prince with a sigh, “shall I be able to visit Palestine,
+and mingle with this mighty confluence of nations? Till that happy
+moment shall arrive, let me fill up the time with such representations as
+thou canst give me. I am not ignorant of the motive that assembles such
+numbers in that place, and cannot but consider it as the centre of wisdom
+and piety, to which the best and wisest men of every land must be
+continually resorting.”
+
+“There are some nations,” said Imlac, “that send few visitants to
+Palestine; for many numerous and learned sects in Europe concur to
+censure pilgrimage as superstitious, or deride it as ridiculous.”
+
+“You know,” said the Prince, “how little my life has made me acquainted
+with diversity of opinions; it will be too long to hear the arguments on
+both sides; you, that have considered them, tell me the result.”
+
+“Pilgrimage,” said Imlac, “like many other acts of piety, may be
+reasonable or superstitious, according to the principles upon which it is
+performed. Long journeys in search of truth are not commanded. Truth,
+such as is necessary to the regulation of life, is always found where it
+is honestly sought. Change of place is no natural cause of the increase
+of piety, for it inevitably produces dissipation of mind. Yet, since men
+go every day to view the fields where great actions have been performed,
+and return with stronger impressions of the event, curiosity of the same
+kind may naturally dispose us to view that country whence our religion
+had its beginning, and I believe no man surveys those awful scenes
+without some confirmation of holy resolutions. That the Supreme Being
+may be more easily propitiated in one place than in another is the dream
+of idle superstition, but that some places may operate upon our own minds
+in an uncommon manner is an opinion which hourly experience will justify.
+He who supposes that his vices may be more successfully combated in
+Palestine, will perhaps find himself mistaken; yet he may go thither
+without folly; he who thinks they will be more freely pardoned,
+dishonours at once his reason and religion.”
+
+“These,” said the Prince, “are European distinctions. I will consider
+them another time. What have you found to be the effect of knowledge?
+Are those nations happier than we?”
+
+“There is so much infelicity,” said the poet, “in the world, that scarce
+any man has leisure from his own distresses to estimate the comparative
+happiness of others. Knowledge is certainly one of the means of
+pleasure, as is confessed by the natural desire which every mind feels of
+increasing its ideas. Ignorance is mere privation, by which nothing can
+be produced; it is a vacuity in which the soul sits motionless and torpid
+for want of attraction, and, without knowing why, we always rejoice when
+we learn, and grieve when we forget. I am therefore inclined to conclude
+that if nothing counteracts the natural consequence of learning, we grow
+more happy as out minds take a wider range.
+
+“In enumerating the particular comforts of life, we shall find many
+advantages on the side of the Europeans. They cure wounds and diseases
+with which we languish and perish. We suffer inclemencies of weather
+which they can obviate. They have engines for the despatch of many
+laborious works, which we must perform by manual industry. There is such
+communication between distant places that one friend can hardly be said
+to be absent from another. Their policy removes all public
+inconveniences; they have roads cut through the mountains, and bridges
+laid over their rivers. And, if we descend to the privacies of life,
+their habitations are more commodious and their possessions are more
+secure.”
+
+“They are surely happy,” said the Prince, “who have all these
+conveniences, of which I envy none so much as the facility with which
+separated friends interchange their thoughts.”
+
+“The Europeans,” answered Imlac, “are less unhappy than we, but they are
+not happy. Human life is everywhere a state in which much is to be
+endured and little to be enjoyed.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+THE STORY OF IMLAC (_continued_).
+
+
+“I AM not willing,” said the Prince, “to suppose that happiness is so
+parsimoniously distributed to mortals, nor can I believe but that, if I
+had the choice of life, I should be able to fill every day with pleasure.
+I would injure no man, and should provoke no resentments; I would relieve
+every distress, and should enjoy the benedictions of gratitude. I would
+choose my friends among the wise and my wife among the virtuous, and
+therefore should be in no danger from treachery or unkindness. My
+children should by my care be learned and pious, and would repay to my
+age what their childhood had received. What would dare to molest him who
+might call on every side to thousands enriched by his bounty or assisted
+by his power? And why should not life glide away in the soft
+reciprocation of protection and reverence? All this may be done without
+the help of European refinements, which appear by their effects to be
+rather specious than useful. Let us leave them and pursue our journey.”
+
+“From Palestine,” said Imlac, “I passed through many regions of Asia; in
+the more civilised kingdoms as a trader, and among the barbarians of the
+mountains as a pilgrim. At last I began to long for my native country,
+that I might repose after my travels and fatigues in the places where I
+had spent my earliest years, and gladden my old companions with the
+recital of my adventures. Often did I figure to myself those with whom I
+had sported away the gay hours of dawning life, sitting round me in its
+evening, wondering at my tales and listening to my counsels.
+
+“When this thought had taken possession of my mind, I considered every
+moment as wasted which did not bring me nearer to Abyssinia. I hastened
+into Egypt, and, notwithstanding my impatience, was detained ten months
+in the contemplation of its ancient magnificence and in inquiries after
+the remains of its ancient learning. I found in Cairo a mixture of all
+nations: some brought thither by the love of knowledge, some by the hope
+of gain; many by the desire of living after their own manner without
+observation, and of lying hid in the obscurity of multitudes; for in a
+city populous as Cairo it is possible to obtain at the same time the
+gratifications of society and the secrecy of solitude.
+
+“From Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked on the Red Sea, passing
+along the coast till I arrived at the port from which I had departed
+twenty years before. Here I joined myself to a caravan, and re-entered
+my native country.
+
+“I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen and the congratulations of my
+friends, and was not without hope that my father, whatever value he had
+set upon riches, would own with gladness and pride a son who was able to
+add to the felicity and honour of the nation. But I was soon convinced
+that my thoughts were vain. My father had been dead fourteen years,
+having divided his wealth among my brothers, who were removed to some
+other provinces. Of my companions, the greater part was in the grave; of
+the rest, some could with difficulty remember me, and some considered me
+as one corrupted by foreign manners.
+
+“A man used to vicissitudes is not easily dejected. I forgot, after a
+time, my disappointment, and endeavoured to recommend myself to the
+nobles of the kingdom; they admitted me to their tables, heard my story,
+and dismissed me. I opened a school, and was prohibited to teach. I
+then resolved to sit down in the quiet of domestic life, and addressed a
+lady that was fond of my conversation, but rejected my suit because my
+father was a merchant.
+
+“Wearied at last with solicitation and repulses, I resolved to hide
+myself for ever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion or
+caprice of others. I waited for the time when the gate of the Happy
+Valley should open, that I might bid farewell to hope and fear; the day
+came, my performance was distinguished with favour, and I resigned myself
+with joy to perpetual confinement.”
+
+“Hast thou here found happiness at last?” said Rasselas. “Tell me,
+without reserve, art thou content with thy condition, or dost thou wish
+to be again wandering and inquiring? All the inhabitants of this valley
+celebrate their lot, and at the annual visit of the Emperor invite others
+to partake of their felicity.”
+
+“Great Prince,” said Imlac, “I shall speak the truth. I know not one of
+all your attendants who does not lament the hour when he entered this
+retreat. I am less unhappy than the rest, because I have a mind replete
+with images, which I can vary and combine at pleasure. I can amuse my
+solitude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins to fade from my
+memory, and by recollection of the accidents of my past life. Yet all
+this ends in the sorrowful consideration that my acquirements are now
+useless, and that none of my pleasures can be again enjoyed. The rest,
+whose minds have no impression but of the present moment, are either
+corroded by malignant passions or sit stupid in the gloom of perpetual
+vacancy.”
+
+“What passions can infest those,” said the Prince, “who have no rivals?
+We are in a place where impotence precludes malice, and where all envy is
+repressed by community of enjoyments.”
+
+“There may be community,” said Imlac, “of material possessions, but there
+can never be community of love or of esteem. It must happen that one
+will please more than another; he that knows himself despised will always
+be envious, and still more envious and malevolent if he is condemned to
+live in the presence of those who despise him. The invitations by which
+they allure others to a state which they feel to be wretched, proceed
+from the natural malignity of hopeless misery. They are weary of
+themselves and of each other, and expect to find relief in new
+companions. They envy the liberty which their folly has forfeited, and
+would gladly see all mankind imprisoned like themselves.
+
+“From this crime, however, I am wholly free. No man can say that he is
+wretched by my persuasion. I look with pity on the crowds who are
+annually soliciting admission to captivity, and wish that it were lawful
+for me to warn them of their danger.”
+
+“My dear Imlac,” said the Prince, “I will open to thee my whole heart. I
+have long meditated an escape from the Happy Valley. I have examined the
+mountain on every side, but find myself insuperably barred—teach me the
+way to break my prison; thou shalt be the companion of my flight, the
+guide of my rambles, the partner of my fortune, and my sole director in
+the _choice of life_.
+
+“Sir,” answered the poet, “your escape will be difficult, and perhaps you
+may soon repent your curiosity. The world, which you figure to yourself
+smooth and quiet as the lake in the valley, you will find a sea foaming
+with tempests and boiling with whirlpools; you will be sometimes
+overwhelmed by the waves of violence, and sometimes dashed against the
+rocks of treachery. Amidst wrongs and frauds, competitions and
+anxieties, you will wish a thousand times for these seats of quiet, and
+willingly quit hope to be free from fear.”
+
+“Do not seek to deter me from my purpose,” said the Prince. “I am
+impatient to see what thou hast seen; and since thou art thyself weary of
+the valley, it is evident that thy former state was better than this.
+Whatever be the consequence of my experiment, I am resolved to judge with
+mine own eyes of the various conditions of men, and then to make
+deliberately my _choice of life_.”
+
+“I am afraid,” said Imlac, “you are hindered by stronger restraints than
+my persuasions; yet, if your determination is fixed, I do not counsel you
+to despair. Few things are impossible to diligence and skill.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+RASSELAS DISCOVERS THE MEANS OF ESCAPE.
+
+
+THE Prince now dismissed his favourite to rest; but the narrative of
+wonders and novelties filled his mind with perturbation. He revolved all
+that he had heard, and prepared innumerable questions for the morning.
+
+Much of his uneasiness was now removed. He had a friend to whom he could
+impart his thoughts, and whose experience could assist him in his
+designs. His heart was no longer condemned to swell with silent
+vexation. He thought that even the Happy Valley might be endured with
+such a companion, and that if they could range the world together he
+should have nothing further to desire.
+
+In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground dried. The Prince
+and Imlac then walked out together, to converse without the notice of the
+rest. The Prince, whose thoughts were always on the wing, as he passed
+by the gate said, with a countenance of sorrow, “Why art thou so strong,
+and why is man so weak?”
+
+“Man is not weak,” answered his companion; “knowledge is more than
+equivalent to force. The master of mechanics laughs at strength. I can
+burst the gate, but cannot do it secretly. Some other expedient must be
+tried.”
+
+As they were walking on the side of the mountain they observed that the
+coneys, which the rain had driven from their burrows, had taken shelter
+among the bushes, and formed holes behind them tending upwards in an
+oblique line. “It has been the opinion of antiquity,” said Imlac, “that
+human reason borrowed many arts from the instinct of animals; let us,
+therefore, not think ourselves degraded by learning from the coney. We
+may escape by piercing the mountain in the same direction. We will begin
+where the summit hangs over the middle part, and labour upward till we
+shall issue out beyond the prominence.”
+
+The eyes of the Prince, when he heard this proposal, sparkled with joy.
+The execution was easy and the success certain.
+
+No time was now lost. They hastened early in the morning to choose a
+place proper for their mine. They clambered with great fatigue among
+crags and brambles, and returned without having discovered any part that
+favoured their design. The second and the third day were spent in the
+same manner, and with the same frustration; but on the fourth day they
+found a small cavern concealed by a thicket, where they resolved to make
+their experiment.
+
+Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and remove earth, and they
+fell to their work on the next day with more eagerness than vigour. They
+were presently exhausted by their efforts, and sat down to pant upon the
+grass. The Prince for a moment appeared to be discouraged. “Sir,” said
+his companion, “practice will enable us to continue our labour for a
+longer time. Mark, however, how far we have advanced, and ye will find
+that our toil will some time have an end. Great works are performed not
+by strength, but perseverance; yonder palace was raised by single stones,
+yet you see its height and spaciousness. He that shall walk with vigour
+three hours a day, will pass in seven years a space equal to the
+circumference of the globe.”
+
+They returned to their work day after day, and in a short time found a
+fissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with very little
+obstruction. This Rasselas considered as a good omen. “Do not disturb
+your mind,” said Imlac, “with other hopes or fears than reason may
+suggest; if you are pleased with the prognostics of good, you will be
+terrified likewise with tokens of evil, and your whole life will be a
+prey to superstition. Whatever facilitates our work is more than an
+omen; it is a cause of success. This is one of those pleasing surprises
+which often happen to active resolution. Many things difficult to design
+prove easy to performance.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+RASSELAS AND IMLAC RECEIVE AN UNEXPECTED VISIT.
+
+
+THEY had now wrought their way to the middle, and solaced their toil with
+the approach of liberty, when the Prince, coming down to refresh himself
+with air, found his sister Nekayah standing at the mouth of the cavity.
+He started, and stood confused, afraid to tell his design, and yet
+hopeless to conceal it. A few moments determined him to repose on her
+fidelity, and secure her secrecy by a declaration without reserve.
+
+“Do not imagine,” said the Princess, “that I came hither as a spy. I had
+long observed from my window that you and Imlac directed your walk every
+day towards the same point, but I did not suppose you had any better
+reason for the preference than a cooler shade or more fragrant bank, nor
+followed you with any other design than to partake of your conversation.
+Since, then, not suspicion, but fondness, has detected you, let me not
+lose the advantage of my discovery. I am equally weary of confinement
+with yourself, and not less desirous of knowing what is done or suffered
+in the world. Permit me to fly with you from this tasteless
+tranquillity, which will yet grow more loathsome when you have left me.
+You may deny me to accompany you, but cannot hinder me from following.”
+
+The Prince, who loved Nekayah above his other sisters, had no inclination
+to refuse her request, and grieved that he had lost an opportunity of
+showing his confidence by a voluntary communication. It was, therefore,
+agreed that she should leave the valley with them; and that in the
+meantime she should watch, lest any other straggler should, by chance or
+curiosity, follow them to the mountain.
+
+At length their labour was at an end. They saw light beyond the
+prominence, and, issuing to the top of the mountain, beheld the Nile, yet
+a narrow current, wandering beneath them.
+
+The Prince looked round with rapture, anticipated all the pleasures of
+travel, and in thought was already transported beyond his father’s
+dominions. Imlac, though very joyful at his escape, had less expectation
+of pleasure in the world, which he had before tried and of which he had
+been weary.
+
+Rasselas was so much delighted with a wider horizon, that he could not
+soon be persuaded to return into the valley. He informed his sister that
+the way was now open, and that nothing now remained but to prepare for
+their departure.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS LEAVE THE VALLEY, AND SEE MANY WONDERS.
+
+
+THE Prince and Princess had jewels sufficient to make them rich whenever
+they came into a place of commerce, which, by Imlac’s direction, they hid
+in their clothes, and on the night of the next full moon all left the
+valley. The Princess was followed only by a single favourite, who did
+not know whither she was going.
+
+They clambered through the cavity, and began to go down on the other
+side. The Princess and her maid turned their eyes toward every part, and
+seeing nothing to bound their prospect, considered themselves in danger
+of being lost in a dreary vacuity. They stopped and trembled. “I am
+almost afraid,” said the Princess, “to begin a journey of which I cannot
+perceive an end, and to venture into this immense plain where I may be
+approached on every side by men whom I never saw.” The Prince felt
+nearly the same emotions, though he thought it more manly to conceal
+them.
+
+Imlac smiled at their terrors, and encouraged them to proceed. But the
+Princess continued irresolute till she had been imperceptibly drawn
+forward too far to return.
+
+In the morning they found some shepherds in the field, who set some milk
+and fruits before them. The Princess wondered that she did not see a
+palace ready for her reception and a table spread with delicacies; but
+being faint and hungry, she drank the milk and ate the fruits, and
+thought them of a higher flavour than the products of the valley.
+
+They travelled forward by easy journeys, being all unaccustomed to toil
+and difficulty, and knowing that, though they might be missed, they could
+not be pursued. In a few days they came into a more populous region,
+where Imlac was diverted with the admiration which his companions
+expressed at the diversity of manners, stations, and employments. Their
+dress was such as might not bring upon them the suspicion of having
+anything to conceal; yet the Prince, wherever he came, expected to be
+obeyed, and the Princess was frighted because those who came into her
+presence did not prostrate themselves. Imlac was forced to observe them
+with great vigilance, lest they should betray their rank by their unusual
+behaviour, and detained them several weeks in the first village to
+accustom them to the sight of common mortals.
+
+By degrees the royal wanderers were taught to understand that they had
+for a time laid aside their dignity, and were to expect only such regard
+as liberality and courtesy could procure. And Imlac having by many
+admonitions prepared them to endure the tumults of a port and the
+ruggedness of the commercial race, brought them down to the sea-coast.
+
+The Prince and his sister, to whom everything was new, were gratified
+equally at all places, and therefore remained for some months at the port
+without any inclination to pass further. Imlac was content with their
+stay, because he did not think it safe to expose them, unpractised in the
+world, to the hazards of a foreign country.
+
+At last he began to fear lest they should be discovered, and proposed to
+fix a day for their departure. They had no pretensions to judge for
+themselves, and referred the whole scheme to his direction. He therefore
+took passage in a ship to Suez, and, when the time came, with great
+difficulty prevailed on the Princess to enter the vessel. They had a
+quick and prosperous voyage, and from Suez travelled by land to Cairo.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+THEY ENTER CAIRO, AND FIND EVERY MAN HAPPY.
+
+
+AS they approached the city, which filled the strangers with
+astonishment, “This,” said Imlac to the Prince, “is the place where
+travellers and merchants assemble from all corners of the earth. You
+will here find men of every character and every occupation. Commerce is
+here honourable. I will act as a merchant, and you shall live as
+strangers who have no other end of travel than curiosity; it will soon be
+observed that we are rich. Our reputation will procure us access to all
+whom we shall desire to know; you shall see all the conditions of
+humanity, and enable yourselves at leisure to make your _choice of
+life_.”
+
+They now entered the town, stunned by the noise and offended by the
+crowds. Instruction had not yet so prevailed over habit but that they
+wondered to see themselves pass undistinguished along the streets, and
+met by the lowest of the people without reverence or notice. The
+Princess could not at first bear the thought of being levelled with the
+vulgar, and for some time continued in her chamber, where she was served
+by her favourite Pekuah, as in the palace of the valley.
+
+Imlac, who understood traffic, sold part of the jewels the next day, and
+hired a house, which he adorned with such magnificence that he was
+immediately considered as a merchant of great wealth. His politeness
+attracted many acquaintances, and his generosity made him courted by many
+dependants. His companions, not being able to mix in the conversation,
+could make no discovery of their ignorance or surprise, and were
+gradually initiated in the world as they gained knowledge of the
+language.
+
+The Prince had by frequent lectures been taught the use and nature of
+money; but the ladies could not for a long time comprehend what the
+merchants did with small pieces of gold and silver, or why things of so
+little use should be received as an equivalent to the necessaries of
+life.
+
+They studied the language two years, while Imlac was preparing to set
+before them the various ranks and conditions of mankind. He grew
+acquainted with all who had anything uncommon in their fortune or
+conduct. He frequented the voluptuous and the frugal, the idle and the
+busy, the merchants and the men of learning.
+
+The Prince now being able to converse with fluency, and having learned
+the caution necessary to be observed in his intercourse with strangers,
+began to accompany Imlac to places of resort, and to enter into all
+assemblies, that he might make his _choice of life_.
+
+For some time he thought choice needless, because all appeared to him
+really happy. Wherever he went he met gaiety and kindness, and heard the
+song of joy or the laugh of carelessness. He began to believe that the
+world overflowed with universal plenty, and that nothing was withheld
+either from want or merit; that every hand showered liberality and every
+heart melted with benevolence: “And who then,” says he, “will be suffered
+to be wretched?”
+
+Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to crush the
+hope of inexperience: till one day, having sat awhile silent, “I know
+not,” said the Prince, “what can be the reason that I am more unhappy
+than any of our friends. I see them perpetually and unalterably
+cheerful, but feel my own mind restless and uneasy. I am unsatisfied
+with those pleasures which I seem most to court. I live in the crowds of
+jollity, not so much to enjoy company as to shun myself, and am only loud
+and merry to conceal my sadness.”
+
+“Every man,” said Imlac, “may by examining his own mind guess what passes
+in the minds of others. When you feel that your own gaiety is
+counterfeit, it may justly lead you to suspect that of your companions
+not to be sincere. Envy is commonly reciprocal. We are long before we
+are convinced that happiness is never to be found, and each believes it
+possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of obtaining it for himself.
+In the assembly where you passed the last night there appeared such
+sprightliness of air and volatility of fancy as might have suited beings
+of a higher order, formed to inhabit serener regions, inaccessible to
+care or sorrow; yet, believe me, Prince, was there not one who did not
+dread the moment when solitude should deliver him to the tyranny of
+reflection.”
+
+“This,” said the Prince, “may be true of others since it is true of me;
+yet, whatever be the general infelicity of man, one condition is more
+happy than another, and wisdom surely directs us to take the least evil
+in the _choice of life_.”
+
+“The causes of good and evil,” answered Imlac, “are so various and
+uncertain, so often entangled with each other, so diversified by various
+relations, and so much subject to accidents which cannot be foreseen,
+that he who would fix his condition upon incontestable reasons of
+preference must live and die inquiring and deliberating.”
+
+“But, surely,” said Rasselas, “the wise men, to whom we listen with
+reverence and wonder, chose that mode of life for themselves which they
+thought most likely to make them happy.”
+
+“Very few,” said the poet, “live by choice. Every man is placed in the
+present condition by causes which acted without his foresight, and with
+which he did not always willingly co-operate, and therefore you will
+rarely meet one who does not think the lot of his neighbour better than
+his own.”
+
+“I am pleased to think,” said the Prince, “that my birth has given me at
+least one advantage over others by enabling me to determine for myself.
+I have here the world before me. I will review it at leisure: surely
+happiness is somewhere to be found.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+THE PRINCE ASSOCIATES WITH YOUNG MEN OF SPIRIT AND GAIETY.
+
+
+RASSELAS rose next day, and resolved to begin his experiments upon life.
+“Youth,” cried he, “is the time of gladness: I will join myself to the
+young men whose only business is to gratify their desires, and whose time
+is all spent in a succession of enjoyments.”
+
+To such societies he was readily admitted, but a few days brought him
+back weary and disgusted. Their mirth was without images, their laughter
+without motive; their pleasures were gross and sensual, in which the mind
+had no part; their conduct was at once wild and mean—they laughed at
+order and at law, but the frown of power dejected and the eye of wisdom
+abashed them.
+
+The Prince soon concluded that he should never be happy in a course of
+life of which he was ashamed. He thought it unsuitable to a reasonable
+being to act without a plan, and to be sad or cheerful only by chance.
+“Happiness,” said he, “must be something solid and permanent, without
+fear and without uncertainty.”
+
+But his young companions had gained so much of his regard by their
+frankness and courtesy that he could not leave them without warning and
+remonstrance. “My friends,” said he, “I have seriously considered our
+manners and our prospects, and find that we have mistaken our own
+interest. The first years of man must make provision for the last. He
+that never thinks, never can be wise. Perpetual levity must end in
+ignorance; and intemperance, though it may fire the spirits for an hour,
+will make life short or miserable. Let us consider that youth is of no
+long duration, and that in mature age, when the enchantments of fancy
+shall cease, and phantoms of delight dance no more about us, we shall
+have no comforts but the esteem of wise men and the means of doing good.
+Let us therefore stop while to stop is in our power: let us live as men
+who are some time to grow old, and to whom it will be the most dreadful
+of all evils to count their past years by follies, and to be reminded of
+their former luxuriance of health only by the maladies which riot has
+produced.”
+
+They stared awhile in silence one upon another, and at last drove him
+away by a general chorus of continued laughter.
+
+The consciousness that his sentiments were just and his intention kind
+was scarcely sufficient to support him against the horror of derision.
+But he recovered his tranquillity and pursued his search.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+THE PRINCE FINDS A WISE AND HAPPY MAN.
+
+
+AS he was one day walking in the street he saw a spacious building which
+all were by the open doors invited to enter. He followed the stream of
+people, and found it a hall or school of declamation, in which professors
+read lectures to their auditory. He fixed his eye upon a sage raised
+above the rest, who discoursed with great energy on the government of the
+passions. His look was venerable, his action graceful, his pronunciation
+clear, and his diction elegant. He showed with great strength of
+sentiment and variety of illustration that human nature is degraded and
+debased when the lower faculties predominate over the higher; that when
+fancy, the parent of passion, usurps the dominion of the mind, nothing
+ensues but the natural effect of unlawful government, perturbation, and
+confusion; that she betrays the fortresses of the intellect to rebels,
+and excites her children to sedition against their lawful sovereign. He
+compared reason to the sun, of which the light is constant, uniform, and
+lasting; and fancy to a meteor, of bright but transitory lustre,
+irregular in its motion and delusive in its direction.
+
+He then communicated the various precepts given from time to time for the
+conquest of passion, and displayed the happiness of those who had
+obtained the important victory, after which man is no longer the slave of
+fear nor the fool of hope; is no more emaciated by envy, inflamed by
+anger, emasculated by tenderness, or depressed by grief; but walks on
+calmly through the tumults or privacies of life, as the sun pursues alike
+his course through the calm or the stormy sky.
+
+He enumerated many examples of heroes immovable by pain or pleasure, who
+looked with indifference on those modes or accidents to which the vulgar
+give the names of good and evil. He exhorted his hearers to lay aside
+their prejudices, and arm themselves against the shafts of malice or
+misfortune, by invulnerable patience: concluding that this state only was
+happiness, and that this happiness was in every one’s power.
+
+Rasselas listened to him with the veneration due to the instructions of a
+superior being, and waiting for him at the door, humbly implored the
+liberty of visiting so great a master of true wisdom. The lecturer
+hesitated a moment, when Rasselas put a purse of gold into his hand,
+which he received with a mixture of joy and wonder.
+
+“I have found,” said the Prince at his return to Imlac, “a man who can
+teach all that is necessary to be known; who, from the unshaken throne of
+rational fortitude, looks down on the scenes of life changing beneath
+him. He speaks, and attention watches his lips. He reasons, and
+conviction closes his periods. This man shall be my future guide: I will
+learn his doctrines and imitate his life.”
+
+“Be not too hasty,” said Imlac, “to trust or to admire the teachers of
+morality: they discourse like angels, but they live like men.”
+
+Rasselas, who could not conceive how any man could reason so forcibly
+without feeling the cogency of his own arguments, paid his visit in a few
+days, and was denied admission. He had now learned the power of money,
+and made his way by a piece of gold to the inner apartment, where he
+found the philosopher in a room half darkened, with his eyes misty and
+his face pale. “Sir,” said he, “you are come at a time when all human
+friendship is useless; what I suffer cannot be remedied: what I have lost
+cannot be supplied. My daughter, my only daughter, from whose tenderness
+I expected all the comforts of my age, died last night of a fever. My
+views, my purposes, my hopes, are at an end: I am now a lonely being,
+disunited from society.”
+
+“Sir,” said the Prince, “mortality is an event by which a wise man can
+never be surprised: we know that death is always near, and it should
+therefore always be expected.” “Young man,” answered the philosopher,
+“you speak like one that has never felt the pangs of separation.” “Have
+you then forgot the precepts,” said Rasselas, “which you so powerfully
+enforced? Has wisdom no strength to arm the heart against calamity?
+Consider that external things are naturally variable, but truth and
+reason are always the same.” “What comfort,” said the mourner, “can
+truth and reason afford me? Of what effect are they now, but to tell me
+that my daughter will not be restored?”
+
+The Prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult misery with
+reproof, went away, convinced of the emptiness of rhetorical sounds, and
+the inefficacy of polished periods and studied sentences.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+A GLIMPSE OF PASTORAL LIFE.
+
+
+HE was still eager upon the same inquiry; and having heard of a hermit
+that lived near the lowest cataract of the Nile, and filled the whole
+country with the fame of his sanctity, resolved to visit his retreat, and
+inquire whether that felicity which public life could not afford was to
+be found in solitude, and whether a man whose age and virtue made him
+venerable could teach any peculiar art of shunning evils or enduring
+them.
+
+Imlac and the Princess agreed to accompany him, and after the necessary
+preparations, they began their journey. Their way lay through the
+fields, where shepherds tended their flocks and the lambs were playing
+upon the pasture. “This,” said the poet, “is the life which has been
+often celebrated for its innocence and quiet; let us pass the heat of the
+day among the shepherds’ tents, and know whether all our searches are not
+to terminate in pastoral simplicity.”
+
+The proposal pleased them; and they induced the shepherds, by small
+presents and familiar questions, to tell the opinion of their own state.
+They were so rude and ignorant, so little able to compare the good with
+the evil of the occupation, and so indistinct in their narratives and
+descriptions, that very little could be learned from them. But it was
+evident that their hearts were cankered with discontent; that they
+considered themselves as condemned to labour for the luxury of the rich,
+and looked up with stupid malevolence towards those that were placed
+above them.
+
+The Princess pronounced with vehemence that she would never suffer these
+envious savages to be her companions, and that she should not soon be
+desirous of seeing any more specimens of rustic happiness; but could not
+believe that all the accounts of primeval pleasures were fabulous, and
+was in doubt whether life had anything that could be justly preferred to
+the placid gratification of fields and woods. She hoped that the time
+would come when, with a few virtuous and elegant companions, she should
+gather flowers planted by her own hands, fondle the lambs of her own ewe,
+and listen without care, among brooks and breezes, to one of her maidens
+reading in the shade.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+THE DANGER OF PROSPERITY.
+
+
+ON the next day they continued their journey till the heat compelled them
+to look round for shelter. At a small distance they saw a thick wood,
+which they no sooner entered than they perceived that they were
+approaching the habitations of men. The shrubs were diligently cut away
+to open walks where the shades ware darkest; the boughs of opposite trees
+were artificially interwoven; seats of flowery turf were raised in vacant
+spaces; and a rivulet that wantoned along the side of a winding path had
+its banks sometimes opened into small basins, and its stream sometimes
+obstructed by little mounds of stone heaped together to increase its
+murmurs.
+
+They passed slowly through the wood, delighted with such unexpected
+accommodations, and entertained each other with conjecturing what or who
+he could be that in those rude and unfrequented regions had leisure and
+art for such harmless luxury.
+
+As they advanced they heard the sound of music, and saw youths and
+virgins dancing in the grove; and going still farther beheld a stately
+palace built upon a hill surrounded by woods. The laws of Eastern
+hospitality allowed them to enter, and the master welcomed them like a
+man liberal and wealthy.
+
+He was skilful enough in appearances soon to discern that they were no
+common guests, and spread his table with magnificence. The eloquence of
+Imlac caught his attention, and the lofty courtesy of the Princess
+excited his respect. When they offered to depart, he entreated their
+stay, and was the next day more unwilling to dismiss them than before.
+They were easily persuaded to stop, and civility grew up in time to
+freedom and confidence.
+
+The Prince now saw all the domestics cheerful and all the face of nature
+smiling round the place, and could not forbear to hope that he should
+find here what he was seeking; but when he was congratulating the master
+upon his possessions he answered with a sigh, “My condition has indeed
+the appearance of happiness, but appearances are delusive. My prosperity
+puts my life in danger; the Bassa of Egypt is my enemy, incensed only by
+my wealth and popularity. I have been hitherto protected against him by
+the princes of the country; but as the favour of the great is uncertain I
+know not how soon my defenders may be persuaded to share the plunder with
+the Bassa. I have sent my treasures into a distant country, and upon the
+first alarm am prepared to follow them. Then will my enemies riot in my
+mansion, and enjoy the gardens which I have planted.”
+
+They all joined in lamenting his danger and deprecating his exile; and
+the Princess was so much disturbed with the tumult of grief and
+indignation that she retired to her apartment. They continued with their
+kind inviter a few days longer, and then went to find the hermit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+THE HAPPINESS OF SOLITUDE—THE HERMIT’S HISTORY.
+
+
+THEY came on the third day, by the direction of the peasants, to the
+hermit’s cell. It was a cavern in the side of a mountain, overshadowed
+with palm trees, at such a distance from the cataract that nothing more
+was heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as composes the mind to
+pensive meditation, especially when it was assisted by the wind whistling
+among the branches. The first rude essay of Nature had been so much
+improved by human labour that the cave contained several apartments
+appropriated to different uses, and often afforded lodging to travellers
+whom darkness or tempests happened to overtake.
+
+The hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness of the
+evening. On one side lay a book with pens and paper; on the other
+mechanical instruments of various kinds. As they approached him
+unregarded, the Princess observed that he had not the countenance of a
+man that had found or could teach the way to happiness.
+
+They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid like a man not
+unaccustomed to the forms of Courts. “My children,” said he, “if you
+have lost your way, you shall be willingly supplied with such
+conveniences for the night as this cavern will afford. I have all that
+Nature requires, and you will not expect delicacies in a hermit’s cell.”
+
+They thanked him; and, entering, were pleased with the neatness and
+regularity of the place. The hermit set flesh and wine before them,
+though he fed only upon fruits and water. His discourse was cheerful
+without levity, and pious without enthusiasm. He soon gained the esteem
+of his guests, and the Princess repented her hasty censure.
+
+At last Imlac began thus: “I do not now wonder that your reputation is so
+far extended: we have heard at Cairo of your wisdom, and came hither to
+implore your direction for this young man and maiden in the _choice of
+life_.”
+
+“To him that lives well,” answered the hermit, “every form of life is
+good; nor can I give any other rule for choice than to remove all
+apparent evil.”
+
+“He will most certainly remove from evil,” said the Prince, “who shall
+devote himself to that solitude which you have recommended by your
+example.”
+
+“I have indeed lived fifteen years in solitude,” said the hermit, “but
+have no desire that my example should gain any imitators. In my youth I
+professed arms, and was raised by degrees to the highest military rank.
+I have traversed wide countries at the head of my troops, and seen many
+battles and sieges. At last, being disgusted by the preferments of a
+younger officer, and feeling that my vigour was beginning to decay, I
+resolved to close my life in peace, having found the world full of
+snares, discord, and misery. I had once escaped from the pursuit of the
+enemy by the shelter of this cavern, and therefore chose it for my final
+residence. I employed artificers to form it into chambers, and stored it
+with all that I was likely to want.
+
+“For some time after my retreat I rejoiced like a tempest-beaten sailor
+at his entrance into the harbour, being delighted with the sudden change
+of the noise and hurry of war to stillness and repose. When the pleasure
+of novelty went away, I employed my hours in examining the plants which
+grow in the valley, and the minerals which I collected from the rocks.
+But that inquiry is now grown tasteless and irksome. I have been for
+some time unsettled and distracted: my mind is disturbed with a thousand
+perplexities of doubt and vanities of imagination, which hourly prevail
+upon me, because I have no opportunities of relaxation or diversion. I
+am sometimes ashamed to think that I could not secure myself from vice
+but by retiring from the exercise of virtue, and begin to suspect that I
+was rather impelled by resentment than led by devotion into solitude. My
+fancy riots in scenes of folly, and I lament that I have lost so much,
+and have gained so little. In solitude, if I escape the example of bad
+men, I want likewise the counsel and conversation of the good. I have
+been long comparing the evils with the advantages of society, and resolve
+to return into the world to-morrow. The life of a solitary man will be
+certainly miserable, but not certainly devout.”
+
+They heard his resolution with surprise, but after a short pause offered
+to conduct him to Cairo. He dug up a considerable treasure which he had
+hid among the rocks, and accompanied them to the city, on which, as he
+approached it, he gazed with rapture.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+THE HAPPINESS OF A LIFE LED ACCORDING TO NATURE.
+
+
+RASSELAS went often to an assembly of learned men, who met at stated
+times to unbend their minds and compare their opinions. Their manners
+were somewhat coarse, but their conversation was instructive, and their
+disputations acute, though sometimes too violent, and often continued
+till neither controvertist remembered upon what question he began. Some
+faults were almost general among them: every one was pleased to hear the
+genius or knowledge of another depreciated.
+
+In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the hermit, and
+the wonder with which he heard him censure a course of life which he had
+so deliberately chosen and so laudably followed. The sentiments of the
+hearers were various. Some were of opinion that the folly of his choice
+had been justly punished by condemnation to perpetual perseverance. One
+of the youngest among them, with great vehemence, pronounced him a
+hypocrite. Some talked of the right of society to the labour of
+individuals, and considered retirement as a desertion of duty. Others
+readily allowed that there was a time when the claims of the public were
+satisfied, and when a man might properly sequester himself, to review his
+life and purify his heart.
+
+One who appeared more affected with the narrative than the rest thought
+it likely that the hermit would in a few years go back to his retreat,
+and perhaps, if shame did not restrain or death intercept him, return
+once more from his retreat into the world. “For the hope of happiness,”
+said he, “is so strongly impressed that the longest experience is not
+able to efface it. Of the present state, whatever it be, we feel and are
+forced to confess the misery; yet when the same state is again at a
+distance, imagination paints it as desirable. But the time will surely
+come when desire will no longer be our torment and no man shall be
+wretched but by his own fault.
+
+“This,” said a philosopher who had heard him with tokens of great
+impatience, “is the present condition of a wise man. The time is already
+come when none are wretched but by their own fault. Nothing is more idle
+than to inquire after happiness which Nature has kindly placed within our
+reach. The way to be happy is to live according to Nature, in obedience
+to that universal and unalterable law with which every heart is
+originally impressed; which is not written on it by precept, but engraven
+by destiny; not instilled by education, but infused at our nativity. He
+that lives according to Nature will suffer nothing from the delusions of
+hope or importunities of desire; he will receive and reject with
+equability of temper; and act or suffer as the reason of things shall
+alternately prescribe. Other men may amuse themselves with subtle
+definitions or intricate ratiocination. Let them learn to be wise by
+easier means: let them observe the hind of the forest and the linnet of
+the grove: let them consider the life of animals, whose motions are
+regulated by instinct; they obey their guide, and are happy. Let us
+therefore at length cease to dispute, and learn to live: throw away the
+encumbrance of precepts, which they who utter them with so much pride and
+pomp do not understand, and carry with us this simple and intelligible
+maxim: that deviation from Nature is deviation from happiness.”
+
+When he had spoken he looked round him with a placid air, and enjoyed the
+consciousness of his own beneficence.
+
+“Sir,” said the Prince with great modesty, “as I, like all the rest of
+mankind, am desirous of felicity, my closest attention has been fixed
+upon your discourse: I doubt not the truth of a position which a man so
+learned has so confidently advanced. Let me only know what it is to live
+according to Nature.”
+
+“When I find young men so humble and so docile,” said the philosopher, “I
+can deny them no information which my studies have enabled me to afford.
+To live according to Nature is to act always with due regard to the
+fitness arising from the relations and qualities of causes and effects;
+to concur with the great and unchangeable scheme of universal felicity;
+to co-operate with the general disposition and tendency of the present
+system of things.”
+
+The Prince soon found that this was one of the sages whom he should
+understand less as he heard him longer. He therefore bowed and was
+silent; and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied and the rest
+vanquished, rose up and departed with the air of a man that had
+co-operated with the present system.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+THE PRINCE AND HIS SISTER DIVIDE BETWEEN THEM THE WORK OF OBSERVATION.
+
+
+RASSELAS returned home full of reflections, doubting how to direct his
+future steps. Of the way to happiness he found the learned and simple
+equally ignorant; but as he was yet young, he flattered himself that he
+had time remaining for more experiments and further inquiries. He
+communicated to Imlac his observations and his doubts, but was answered
+by him with new doubts and remarks that gave him no comfort. He
+therefore discoursed more frequently and freely with his sister, who had
+yet the same hope with himself, and always assisted him to give some
+reason why, though he had been hitherto frustrated, he might succeed at
+last.
+
+“We have hitherto,” said she, “known but little of the world; we have
+never yet been either great or mean. In our own country, though we had
+royalty, we had no power; and in this we have not yet seen the private
+recesses of domestic peace. Imlac favours not our search, lest we should
+in time find him mistaken. We will divide the task between us; you shall
+try what is to be found in the splendour of Courts, and I will range the
+shades of humbler life. Perhaps command and authority may be the supreme
+blessings, as they afford the most opportunities of doing good; or
+perhaps what this world can give may be found in the modest habitations
+of middle fortune—too low for great designs, and too high for penury and
+distress.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+THE PRINCE EXAMINES THE HAPPINESS OF HIGH STATIONS.
+
+
+RASSELAS applauded the design, and appeared next day with a splendid
+retinue at the Court of the Bassa. He was soon distinguished for his
+magnificence, and admitted, as a Prince whose curiosity had brought him
+from distant countries, to an intimacy with the great officers and
+frequent conversation with the Bassa himself.
+
+He was at first inclined to believe that the man must be pleased with his
+own condition whom all approached with reverence and heard with
+obedience, and who had the power to extend his edicts to a whole kingdom.
+“There can be no pleasure,” said he, “equal to that of feeling at once
+the joy of thousands all made happy by wise administration. Yet, since
+by the law of subordination this sublime delight can be in one nation but
+the lot of one, it is surely reasonable to think that there is some
+satisfaction more popular and accessible, and that millions can hardly be
+subjected to the will of a single man, only to fill his particular breast
+with incommunicable content.”
+
+These thoughts were often in his mind, and he found no solution of the
+difficulty. But as presents and civilities gained him more familiarity,
+he found that almost every man who stood high in his employment hated all
+the rest and was hated by them, and that their lives were a continual
+succession of plots and detections, stratagems and escapes, faction and
+treachery. Many of those who surrounded the Bassa were sent only to
+watch and report his conduct: every tongue was muttering censure, and
+every eye was searching for a fault.
+
+At last the letters of revocation arrived: the Bassa was carried in
+chains to Constantinople, and his name was mentioned no more.
+
+“What are we now to think of the prerogatives of power?” said Rasselas to
+his sister: “is it without efficacy to good, or is the subordinate degree
+only dangerous, and the supreme safe and glorious? Is the Sultan the
+only happy man in his dominions, or is the Sultan himself subject to the
+torments of suspicion and the dread of enemies?”
+
+In a short time the second Bassa was deposed. The Sultan that had
+advanced him was murdered by the Janissaries, and his successor had other
+views or different favourites.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+THE PRINCESS PURSUES HER INQUIRY WITH MORE DILIGENCE THAN SUCCESS.
+
+
+THE Princess in the meantime insinuated herself into many families; for
+there are few doors through which liberality, joined with good humour,
+cannot find its way. The daughters of many houses were airy and
+cheerful; but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to the conversation of
+Imlac and her brother to be much pleased with childish levity and prattle
+which had no meaning. She found their thoughts narrow, their wishes low,
+and their merriment often artificial. Their pleasures, poor as they
+were, could not be preserved pure, but were embittered by petty
+competitions and worthless emulation. They were always jealous of the
+beauty of each other, of a quality to which solicitude can add nothing,
+and from which detraction can take nothing away. Many were in love with
+triflers like themselves, and many fancied that they were in love when in
+truth they were only idle. Their affection was not fixed on sense or
+virtue, and therefore seldom ended but in vexation. Their grief,
+however, like their joy, was transient; everything floated in their mind
+unconnected with the past or future, so that one desire easily gave way
+to another, as a second stone, cast into the water, effaces and confounds
+the circles of the first.
+
+With these girls she played as with inoffensive animals, and found them
+proud of her countenance and weary of her company.
+
+But her purpose was to examine more deeply, and her affability easily
+persuaded the hearts that were swelling with sorrow to discharge their
+secrets in her ear, and those whom hope flattered or prosperity delighted
+often courted her to partake their pleasure.
+
+The Princess and her brother commonly met in the evening in a private
+summerhouse on the banks of the Nile, and related to each other the
+occurrences of the day. As they were sitting together the Princess cast
+her eyes upon the river that flowed before her. “Answer,” said she,
+“great father of waters, thou that rollest thy goods through eighty
+nations, to the invocations of the daughter of thy native king. Tell me
+if thou waterest through all thy course a single habitation from which
+thou dost not hear the murmurs of complaint.”
+
+“You are then,” said Rasselas, “not more successful in private houses
+than I have been in Courts.” “I have, since the last partition of our
+provinces,” said the Princess, “enabled myself to enter familiarly into
+many families, where there was the fairest show of prosperity and peace,
+and know not one house that is not haunted by some fury that destroys
+their quiet.
+
+“I did not seek ease among the poor, because I concluded that there it
+could not be found. But I saw many poor whom I had supposed to live in
+affluence. Poverty has in large cities very different appearances. It
+is often concealed in splendour and often in extravagance. It is the
+care of a very great part of mankind to conceal their indigence from the
+rest. They support themselves by temporary expedients, and every day is
+lost in contriving for the morrow.
+
+“This, however, was an evil which, though frequent, I saw with less pain,
+because I could relieve it. Yet some have refused my bounties; more
+offended with my quickness to detect their wants than pleased with my
+readiness to succour them; and others, whose exigencies compelled them to
+admit my kindness, have never been able to forgive their benefactress.
+Many, however, have been sincerely grateful without the ostentation of
+gratitude or the hope of other favours.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+THE PRINCESS CONTINUES HER REMARKS UPON PRIVATE LIFE.
+
+
+NEKAYAH, perceiving her brother’s attention fixed, proceeded in her
+narrative.
+
+“In families where there is or is not poverty there is commonly discord.
+If a kingdom be, as Imlac tells us, a great family, a family likewise is
+a little kingdom, torn with factions and exposed to revolutions. An
+unpractised observer expects the love of parents and children to be
+constant and equal. But this kindness seldom continues beyond the years
+of infancy; in a short time the children become rivals to their parents.
+Benefits are allowed by reproaches, and gratitude debased by envy.
+
+“Parents and children seldom act in concert; each child endeavours to
+appropriate the esteem or the fondness of the parents; and the parents,
+with yet less temptation, betray each other to their children. Thus,
+some place their confidence in the father and some in the mother, and by
+degrees the house is filled with artifices and feuds.
+
+“The opinions of children and parents, of the young and the old, are
+naturally opposite, by the contrary effects of hope and despondency, of
+expectation and experience, without crime or folly on either side. The
+colours of life in youth and age appear different, as the face of Nature
+in spring and winter. And how can children credit the assertions of
+parents which their own eyes show them to be false?
+
+“Few parents act in such a manner as much to enforce their maxims by the
+credit of their lives. The old man trusts wholly to slow contrivance and
+gradual progression; the youth expects to force his way by genius,
+vigour, and precipitance. The old man pays regard to riches, and the
+youth reverences virtue. The old man deifies prudence; the youth commits
+himself to magnanimity and chance. The young man, who intends no ill,
+believes that none is intended, and therefore acts with openness and
+candour; but his father; having suffered the injuries of fraud, is
+impelled to suspect and too often allured to practise it. Age looks with
+anger on the temerity of youth, and youth with contempt on the
+scrupulosity of age. Thus parents and children for the greatest part
+live on to love less and less; and if those whom Nature has thus closely
+united are the torments of each other, where shall we look for tenderness
+and consolations?”
+
+“Surely,” said the Prince, “you must have been unfortunate in your choice
+of acquaintance. I am unwilling to believe that the most tender of all
+relations is thus impeded in its effects by natural necessity.”
+
+“Domestic discord,” answered she, “is not inevitably and fatally
+necessary, but yet it is not easily avoided. We seldom see that a whole
+family is virtuous; the good and the evil cannot well agree, and the evil
+can yet less agree with one another. Even the virtuous fall sometimes to
+variance, when their virtues are of different kinds and tending to
+extremes. In general, those parents have most reverence who most deserve
+it, for he that lives well cannot be despised.
+
+“Many other evils infest private life. Some are the slaves of servants
+whom they have trusted with their affairs. Some are kept in continual
+anxiety by the caprice of rich relations, whom they cannot please and
+dare not offend. Some husbands are imperious and some wives perverse,
+and, as it is always more easy to do evil than good, though the wisdom or
+virtue of one can very rarely make many happy, the folly or vice of one
+makes many miserable.”
+
+“If such be the general effect of marriage,” said the Prince, “I shall
+for the future think it dangerous to connect my interest with that of
+another, lest I should be unhappy by my partner’s fault.”
+
+“I have met,” said the Princess, “with many who live single for that
+reason, but I never found that their prudence ought to raise envy. They
+dream away their time without friendship, without fondness, and are
+driven to rid themselves of the day, for which they have no use, by
+childish amusements or vicious delights. They act as beings under the
+constant sense of some known inferiority that fills their minds with
+rancour and their tongues with censure. They are peevish at home and
+malevolent abroad, and, as the outlaws of human nature, make it their
+business and their pleasure to disturb that society which debars them
+from its privileges. To live without feeling or exciting sympathy, to be
+fortunate without adding to the felicity of others, or afflicted without
+tasting the balm of pity, is a state more gloomy than solitude; it is not
+retreat but exclusion from mankind. Marriage has many pains, but
+celibacy has no pleasures.”
+
+“What then is to be done?” said Rasselas. “The more we inquire the less
+we can resolve. Surely he is most likely to please himself that has no
+other inclination to regard.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+DISQUISITION UPON GREATNESS.
+
+
+THE conversation had a short pause. The Prince, having considered his
+sister’s observation, told her that she had surveyed life with prejudice
+and supposed misery where she did not find it. “Your narrative,” says
+he, “throws yet a darker gloom upon the prospects of futurity. The
+predictions of Imlac were but faint sketches of the evils painted by
+Nekayah. I have been lately convinced that quiet is not the daughter of
+grandeur or of power; that her presence is not to be bought by wealth nor
+enforced by conquest. It is evident that as any man acts in a wider
+compass he must be more exposed to opposition from enmity or miscarriage
+from chance. Whoever has many to please or to govern must use the
+ministry of many agents, some of whom will be wicked and some ignorant,
+by some he will be misled and by others betrayed. If he gratifies one he
+will offend another; those that are not favoured will think themselves
+injured, and since favours can be conferred but upon few the greater
+number will be always discontented.”
+
+“The discontent,” said the Princess, “which is thus unreasonable, I hope
+that I shall always have spirit to despise and you power to repress.”
+
+“Discontent,” answered Rasselas, “will not always be without reason under
+the most just and vigilant administration of public affairs. None,
+however attentive, can always discover that merit which indigence or
+faction may happen to obscure, and none, however powerful, can always
+reward it. Yet he that sees inferior desert advanced above him will
+naturally impute that preference to partiality or caprice, and indeed it
+can scarcely be hoped that any man, however magnanimous by Nature or
+exalted by condition, will be able to persist for ever in fixed and
+inexorable justice of distribution; he will sometimes indulge his own
+affections and sometimes those of his favourites; he will permit some to
+please him who can never serve him; he will discover in those whom he
+loves qualities which in reality they do not possess, and to those from
+whom he receives pleasure he will in his turn endeavour to give it. Thus
+will recommendations sometimes prevail which were purchased by money or
+by the more destructive bribery of flattery and servility.
+
+“He that hath much to do will do something wrong, and of that wrong must
+suffer the consequences, and if it were possible that he should always
+act rightly, yet, when such numbers are to judge of his conduct, the bad
+will censure and obstruct him by malevolence and the good sometimes by
+mistake.
+
+“The highest stations cannot therefore hope to be the abodes of
+happiness, which I would willingly believe to have fled from thrones and
+palaces to seats of humble privacy and placid obscurity. For what can
+hinder the satisfaction or intercept the expectations of him whose
+abilities are adequate to his employments, who sees with his own eyes the
+whole circuit of his influence, who chooses by his own knowledge all whom
+he trusts, and whom none are tempted to deceive by hope or fear? Surely
+he has nothing to do but to love and to be loved; to be virtuous and to
+be happy.”
+
+“Whether perfect happiness would be procured by perfect goodness,” said
+Nekayah, “this world will never afford an opportunity of deciding. But
+this, at least, may be maintained, that we do not always find visible
+happiness in proportion to visible virtue. All natural and almost all
+political evils are incident alike to the bad and good; they are
+confounded in the misery of a famine, and not much distinguished in the
+fury of a faction; they sink together in a tempest and are driven
+together from their country by invaders. All that virtue can afford is
+quietness of conscience and a steady prospect of a happier state; this
+may enable us to endure calamity with patience, but remember that
+patience must oppose pain.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+RASSELAS AND NEKAYAH CONTINUE THEIR CONVERSATION.
+
+
+“DEAR Princess,” said Rasselas, “you fall into the common errors of
+exaggeratory declamation, by producing in a familiar disquisition
+examples of national calamities and scenes of extensive misery which are
+found in books rather than in the world, and which, as they are horrid,
+are ordained to be rare. Let us not imagine evils which we do not feel,
+nor injure life by misrepresentations. I cannot bear that querulous
+eloquence which threatens every city with a siege like that of Jerusalem,
+that makes famine attend on every flight of locust, and suspends
+pestilence on the wing of every blast that issues from the south.
+
+“On necessary and inevitable evils which overwhelm kingdoms at once all
+disputation is vain; when they happen they must be endured. But it is
+evident that these bursts of universal distress are more dreaded than
+felt; thousands and tens of thousands flourish in youth and wither in
+age, without the knowledge of any other than domestic evils, and share
+the same pleasures and vexations, whether their kings are mild or cruel,
+whether the armies of their country pursue their enemies or retreat
+before them. While Courts are disturbed with intestine competitions and
+ambassadors are negotiating in foreign countries, the smith still plies
+his anvil and the husbandman drives his plough forward; the necessaries
+of life are required and obtained, and the successive business of the
+season continues to make its wonted revolutions.
+
+“Let us cease to consider what perhaps may never happen, and what, when
+it shall happen, will laugh at human speculation. We will not endeavour
+to modify the motions of the elements or to fix the destiny of kingdoms.
+It is our business to consider what beings like us may perform, each
+labouring for his own happiness by promoting within his circle, however
+narrow, the happiness of others.
+
+“Marriage is evidently the dictate of Nature; men and women were made to
+be the companions of each other, and therefore I cannot be persuaded but
+that marriage is one of the means of happiness.”
+
+“I know not,” said the Princess, “whether marriage be more than one of
+the innumerable modes of human misery. When I see and reckon the various
+forms of connubial infelicity, the unexpected causes of lasting discord,
+the diversities of temper, the oppositions of opinion, the rude
+collisions of contrary desire where both are urged by violent impulses,
+the obstinate contest of disagreeing virtues where both are supported by
+consciousness of good intention, I am sometimes disposed to think, with
+the severer casuists of most nations, that marriage is rather permitted
+than approved, and that none, but by the instigation of a passion too
+much indulged, entangle themselves with indissoluble compact.”
+
+“You seem to forget,” replied Rasselas, “that you have, even now
+represented celibacy as less happy than marriage. Both conditions may be
+bad, but they cannot both be worse. Thus it happens, when wrong opinions
+are entertained, that they mutually destroy each other and leave the mind
+open to truth.”
+
+“I did not expect,” answered, the Princess, “to hear that imputed to
+falsehood which is the consequence only of frailty. To the mind, as to
+the eye, it is difficult to compare with exactness objects vast in their
+extent and various in their parts. When we see or conceive the whole at
+once, we readily note the discriminations and decide the preference, but
+of two systems, of which neither can be surveyed by any human being in
+its full compass of magnitude and multiplicity of complication, where is
+the wonder that, judging of the whole by parts, I am alternately affected
+by one and the other as either presses on my memory or fancy? We differ
+from ourselves just as we differ from each other when we see only part of
+the question, as in the multifarious relations of politics and morality,
+but when we perceive the whole at once, as in numerical computations, all
+agree in one judgment, and none ever varies in his opinion.”
+
+“Let us not add,” said the Prince, “to the other evils of life the
+bitterness of controversy, nor endeavour to vie with each other in
+subtilties of argument. We are employed in a search of which both are
+equally to enjoy the success or suffer by the miscarriage; it is
+therefore fit that we assist each other. You surely conclude too hastily
+from the infelicity of marriage against its institution; will not the
+misery of life prove equally that life cannot be the gift of Heaven? The
+world must be peopled by marriage or peopled without it.”
+
+“How the world is to be peopled,” returned Nekayah, “is not my care and
+need not be yours. I see no danger that the present generation should
+omit to leave successors behind them; we are not now inquiring for the
+world, but for ourselves.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+THE DEBATE ON MARRIAGE (_continued_).
+
+
+“THE good of the whole,” says Rasselas, “is the same with the good of all
+its parts. If marriage be best for mankind, it must be evidently best
+for individuals; or a permanent and necessary duty must be the cause of
+evil, and some must be inevitably sacrificed to the convenience of
+others. In the estimate which you have made of the two states, it
+appears that the incommodities of a single life are in a great measure
+necessary and certain, but those of the conjugal state accidental and
+avoidable. I cannot forbear to flatter myself that prudence and
+benevolence will make marriage happy. The general folly of mankind is
+the cause of general complaint. What can be expected but disappointment
+and repentance from a choice made in the immaturity of youth, in the
+ardour of desire, without judgment, without foresight, without inquiry
+after conformity of opinions, similarity of manners, rectitude of
+judgment, or purity of sentiment?
+
+“Such is the common process of marriage. A youth and maiden, meeting by
+chance or brought together by artifice, exchange glances, reciprocate
+civilities, go home and dream of one another. Having little to divert
+attention or diversify thought, they find themselves uneasy when they are
+apart, and therefore conclude that they shall be happy together. They
+marry, and discover what nothing but voluntary blindness before had
+concealed; they wear out life in altercations, and charge Nature with
+cruelty.
+
+“From those early marriages proceeds likewise the rivalry of parents and
+children: the son is eager to enjoy the world before the father is
+willing to forsake it, and there is hardly room at once for two
+generations. The daughter begins to bloom before the mother can be
+content to fade, and neither can forbear to wish for the absence of the
+other.
+
+“Surely all these evils may be avoided by that deliberation and delay
+which prudence prescribes to irrevocable choice. In the variety and
+jollity of youthful pleasures, life may be well enough supported without
+the help of a partner. Longer time will increase experience, and wider
+views will allow better opportunities of inquiry and selection; one
+advantage at least will be certain, the parents will be visibly older
+than their children.”
+
+“What reason cannot collect,” said Nekayah, “and what experiment has not
+yet taught, can be known only from the report of others. I have been
+told that late marriages are not eminently happy. This is a question too
+important to be neglected; and I have often proposed it to those whose
+accuracy of remark and comprehensiveness of knowledge made their
+suffrages worthy of regard. They have generally determined that it is
+dangerous for a man and woman to suspend their fate upon each other at a
+time when opinions are fixed and habits are established, when friendships
+have been contracted on both sides, when life has been planned into
+method, and the mind has long enjoyed the contemplation of its own
+prospects.
+
+“It is scarcely possible that two travelling through the world under the
+conduct of chance should have been both directed to the same path, and it
+will not often happen that either will quit the track which custom has
+made pleasing. When the desultory levity of youth has settled into
+regularity, it is soon succeeded by pride ashamed to yield, or obstinacy
+delighting to contend. And even though mutual esteem produces mutual
+desire to please, time itself, as it modifies unchangeably the external
+mien, determines likewise the direction of the passions, and gives an
+inflexible rigidity to the manners. Long customs are not easily broken;
+he that attempts to change the course of his own life very often labours
+in vain, and how shall we do that for others which we are seldom able to
+do for ourselves?”
+
+“But surely,” interposed the Prince, “you suppose the chief motive of
+choice forgotten or neglected. Whenever I shall seek a wife, it shall be
+my first question whether she be willing to be led by reason.”
+
+“Thus it is,” said Nekayah, “that philosophers are deceived. There are a
+thousand familiar disputes which reason never can decide; questions that
+elude investigation, and make logic ridiculous; cases where something
+must be done, and where little can be said. Consider the state of
+mankind, and inquire how few can be supposed to act upon any occasions,
+whether small or great, with all the reasons of action present to their
+minds. Wretched would be the pair, above all names of wretchedness, who
+should be doomed to adjust by reason every morning all the minute details
+of a domestic day.
+
+“Those who marry at an advanced age will probably escape the
+encroachments of their children, but in the diminution of this advantage
+they will be likely to leave them, ignorant and helpless, to a guardian’s
+mercy; or if that should not happen, they must at least go out of the
+world before they see those whom they love best either wise or great.
+
+“From their children, if they have less to fear, they have less also to
+hope; and they lose without equivalent the joys of early love, and the
+convenience of uniting with manners pliant and minds susceptible of new
+impressions, which might wear away their dissimilitudes by long
+cohabitation, as soft bodies by continual attrition conform their
+surfaces to each other.
+
+“I believe it will be found that those who marry late are best pleased
+with their children, and those who marry early with their partners.”
+
+“The union of these two affections,” said Rasselas, “would produce all
+that could be wished. Perhaps there is a time when marriage might unite
+them—a time neither too early for the father nor too late for the
+husband.”
+
+“Every hour,” answered the Princess, “confirms my prejudice in favour of
+the position so often uttered by the mouth of Imlac, that ‘Nature sets
+her gifts on the right hand and on the left.’ Those conditions which
+flatter hope and attract desire are so constituted that as we approach
+one we recede from another. There are goods so opposed that we cannot
+seize both, but by too much prudence may pass between them at too great a
+distance to reach either. This is often the fate of long consideration;
+he does nothing who endeavours to do more than is allowed to humanity.
+Flatter not yourself with contrarieties of pleasure. Of the blessings
+set before you make your choice, and be content. No man can taste the
+fruits of autumn while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of the
+spring; no man can at the same time fill his cup from the source and from
+the mouth of the Nile.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+IMLAC ENTERS, AND CHANGES THE CONVERSATION.
+
+
+HERE Imlac entered, and interrupted them. “Imlac,” said Rasselas, “I
+have been taking from the Princess the dismal history of private life,
+and am almost discouraged from further search.”
+
+“It seems to me,” said Imlac, “that while you are making the choice of
+life you neglect to live. You wander about a single city, which, however
+large and diversified, can now afford few novelties, and forget that you
+are in a country famous among the earliest monarchies for the power and
+wisdom of its inhabitants—a country where the sciences first dawned that
+illuminate the world, and beyond which the arts cannot be traced of civil
+society or domestic life.
+
+“The old Egyptians have left behind them monuments of industry and power
+before which all European magnificence is confessed to fade away. The
+ruins of their architecture are the schools of modern builders; and from
+the wonders which time has spared we may conjecture, though uncertainly,
+what it has destroyed.”
+
+“My curiosity,” said Rasselas, “does not very strongly lead me to survey
+piles of stone or mounds of earth. My business is with man. I came
+hither not to measure fragments of temples or trace choked aqueducts, but
+to look upon the various scenes of the present world.”
+
+“The things that are now before us,” said the Princess, “require
+attention, and deserve it. What have I to do with the heroes or the
+monuments of ancient times—with times which can never return, and heroes
+whose form of life was different from all that the present condition of
+mankind requires or allows?”
+
+“To know anything,” returned the poet, “we must know its effects; to see
+men, we must see their works, that we may learn what reason has dictated
+or passion has excited, and find what are the most powerful motives of
+action. To judge rightly of the present, we must oppose it to the past;
+for all judgment is comparative, and of the future nothing can be known.
+The truth is that no mind is much employed upon the present; recollection
+and anticipation fill up almost all our moments. Our passions are joy
+and grief, love and hatred, hope and fear. Of joy and grief, the past is
+the object, and the future of hope and fear; even love and hatred respect
+the past, for the cause must have been before the effect.
+
+“The present state of things is the consequence of the former; and it is
+natural to inquire what were the sources of the good that we enjoy, or
+the evils that we suffer. If we act only for ourselves, to neglect the
+study of history is not prudent. If we are entrusted with the care of
+others, it is not just. Ignorance, when it is voluntary, is criminal;
+and he may properly be charged with evil who refused to learn how he
+might prevent it.
+
+“There is no part of history so generally useful as that which relates to
+the progress of the human mind, the gradual improvement of reason, the
+successive advances of science, the vicissitudes of learning and
+ignorance (which are the light and darkness of thinking beings), the
+extinction and resuscitation of arts, and the revolutions of the
+intellectual world. If accounts of battles and invasions are peculiarly
+the business of princes, the useful or elegant arts are not to be
+neglected; those who have kingdoms to govern have understandings to
+cultivate.
+
+“Example is always more efficacious than precept. A soldier is formed in
+war, and a painter must copy pictures. In this, contemplative life has
+the advantage. Great actions are seldom seen, but the labours of art are
+always at hand for those who desire to know what art has been able to
+perform.
+
+“When the eye or the imagination is struck with any uncommon work, the
+next transition of an active mind is to the means by which it was
+performed. Here begins the true use of such contemplation. We enlarge
+our comprehension by new ideas, and perhaps recover some art lost to
+mankind, or learn what is less perfectly known in our own country. At
+least we compare our own with former times, and either rejoice at our
+improvements, or, what is the first motion towards good, discover our
+defects.”
+
+“I am willing,” said the Prince, “to see all that can deserve my search.”
+
+“And I,” said the Princess, “shall rejoice to learn something of the
+manners of antiquity.”
+
+“The most pompous monument of Egyptian greatness, and one of the most
+bulky works of manual industry,” said Imlac, “are the Pyramids: fabrics
+raised before the time of history, and of which the earliest narratives
+afford us only uncertain traditions. Of these the greatest is still
+standing, very little injured by time.”
+
+“Let us visit them to-morrow,” said Nekayah. “I have often heard of the
+Pyramids, and shall not rest till I have seen them, within and without,
+with my own eyes.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+THEY VISIT THE PYRAMIDS.
+
+
+THE resolution being thus taken, they set out the next day. They laid
+tents upon their camels, being resolved to stay among the Pyramids till
+their curiosity was fully satisfied. They travelled gently, turned aside
+to everything remarkable, stopped from time to time and conversed with
+the inhabitants, and observed the various appearances of towns ruined and
+inhabited, of wild and cultivated nature.
+
+When they came to the Great Pyramid they were astonished at the extent of
+the base and the height of the top. Imlac explained to them the
+principles upon which the pyramidal form was chosen for a fabric intended
+to co-extend its duration with that of the world: he showed that its
+gradual diminution gave it such stability as defeated all the common
+attacks of the elements, and could scarcely be overthrown by earthquakes
+themselves, the least resistible of natural violence. A concussion that
+should shatter the pyramid would threaten the dissolution of the
+continent.
+
+They measured all its dimensions, and pitched their tents at its foot.
+Next day they prepared to enter its interior apartments, and having hired
+the common guides, climbed up to the first passage; when the favourite of
+the Princess, looking into the cavity, stepped back and trembled.
+“Pekuah,” said the Princess, “of what art thou afraid?”
+
+“Of the narrow entrance,” answered the lady, “and of the dreadful gloom.
+I dare not enter a place which must surely be inhabited by unquiet souls.
+The original possessors of these dreadful vaults will start up before us,
+and perhaps shut us in for ever.” She spoke, and threw her arms round
+the neck of her mistress.
+
+“If all your fear be of apparitions,” said the Prince, “I will promise
+you safety. There is no danger from the dead: he that is once buried
+will be seen no more.”
+
+“That the dead are seen no more,” said Imlac, “I will not undertake to
+maintain against the concurrent and unvaried testimony of all ages and of
+all nations. There is no people, rude or learned, among whom apparitions
+of the dead are not related and believed. This opinion, which perhaps
+prevails as far as human nature is diffused, could become universal only
+by its truth: those that never heard of one another would not have agreed
+in a tale which nothing but experience can make credible. That it is
+doubted by single cavillers can very little weaken the general evidence,
+and some who deny it with their tongues confess it by their fears.
+
+“Yet I do not mean to add new terrors to those which have already seized
+upon Pekuah. There can be no reason why spectres should haunt the
+Pyramid more than other places, or why they should have power or will to
+hurt innocence and purity. Our entrance is no violation of their
+privileges: we can take nothing from them; how, then, can we offend
+them?”
+
+“My dear Pekuah,” said the Princess, “I will always go before you, and
+Imlac shall follow you. Remember that you are the companion of the
+Princess of Abyssinia.”
+
+“If the Princess is pleased that her servant should die,” returned the
+lady, “let her command some death less dreadful than enclosure in this
+horrid cavern. You know I dare not disobey you—I must go if you command
+me; but if I once enter, I never shall come back.”
+
+The Princess saw that her fear was too strong for expostulation or
+reproof, and, embracing her, told her that she should stay in the tent
+till their return. Pekuah was not yet satisfied, but entreated the
+Princess not to pursue so dreadful a purpose as that of entering the
+recesses of the Pyramids. “Though I cannot teach courage,” said Nekayah,
+“I must not learn cowardice, nor leave at last undone what I came hither
+only to do.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+THEY ENTER THE PYRAMID.
+
+
+PEKUAH descended to the tents, and the rest entered the Pyramid. They
+passed through the galleries, surveyed the vaults of marble, and examined
+the chest in which the body of the founder is supposed to have been
+deposited. They then sat down in one of the most spacious chambers to
+rest awhile before they attempted to return.
+
+“We have now,” said Imlac, “gratified our minds with an exact view of the
+greatest work of man, except the wall of China.
+
+“Of the wall it is very easy to assign the motive. It secured a wealthy
+and timorous nation from the incursions of barbarians, whose
+unskilfulness in the arts made it easier for them to supply their wants
+by rapine than by industry, and who from time to time poured in upon the
+inhabitants of peaceful commerce as vultures descend upon domestic fowl.
+Their celerity and fierceness made the wall necessary, and their
+ignorance made it efficacious.
+
+“But for the Pyramids, no reason has ever been given adequate to the cost
+and labour of the work. The narrowness of the chambers proves that it
+could afford no retreat from enemies, and treasures might have been
+reposited at far less expense with equal security. It seems to have been
+erected only in compliance with that hunger of imagination which preys
+incessantly upon life, and must be always appeased by some employment.
+Those who have already all that they can enjoy must enlarge their
+desires. He that has built for use till use is supplied must begin to
+build for vanity, and extend his plan to the utmost power of human
+performance that he may not be soon reduced to form another wish.
+
+“I consider this mighty structure as a monument of the insufficiency of
+human enjoyments. A king whose power is unlimited, and whose treasures
+surmount all real and imaginary wants, is compelled to solace, by the
+erection of a pyramid, the satiety of dominion and tastelessness of
+pleasures, and to amuse the tediousness of declining life by seeing
+thousands labouring without end, and one stone, for no purpose, laid upon
+another. Whoever thou art that, not content with a moderate condition,
+imaginest happiness in royal magnificence, and dreamest that command or
+riches can feed the appetite of novelty with perpetual gratifications,
+survey the Pyramids, and confess thy folly!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+THE PRINCESS MEETS WITH AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE.
+
+
+THEY rose up, and returned through the cavity at which they had entered;
+and the Princess prepared for her favourite a long narrative of dark
+labyrinths and costly rooms, and of the different impressions which the
+varieties of the way had made upon her. But when they came to their
+train, they found every one silent and dejected: the men discovered shame
+and fear in their countenances, and the women were weeping in their
+tents.
+
+What had happened they did not try to conjecture, but immediately
+inquired. “You had scarcely entered into the Pyramid,” said one of the
+attendants, “when a troop of Arabs rushed upon us: we were too few to
+resist them, and too slow to escape. They were about to search the
+tents, set us on our camels, and drive us along before them, when the
+approach of some Turkish horsemen put them to flight: but they seized the
+Lady Pekuah with her two maids, and carried them away: the Turks are now
+pursuing them by our instigation, but I fear they will not be able to
+overtake them.”
+
+The Princess was overpowered with surprise and grief. Rasselas, in the
+first heat of his resentment, ordered his servants to follow him, and
+prepared to pursue the robbers with his sabre in his hand. “Sir,” said
+Imlac, “what can you hope from violence or valour? The Arabs are mounted
+on horses trained to battle and retreat; we have only beasts of burden.
+By leaving our present station we may lose the Princess, but cannot hope
+to regain Pekuah.”
+
+In a short time the Turks returned, having not been able to reach the
+enemy. The Princess burst out into new lamentations, and Rasselas could
+scarcely forbear to reproach them with cowardice; but Imlac was of
+opinion that the escape of the Arabs was no addition to their misfortune,
+for perhaps they would have killed their captives rather than have
+resigned them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+THEY RETURN TO CAIRO WITHOUT PEKUAH.
+
+
+THERE was nothing to be hoped from longer stay. They returned to Cairo,
+repenting of their curiosity, censuring the negligence of the government,
+lamenting their own rashness, which had neglected to procure a guard,
+imagining many expedients by which the loss of Pekuah might have been
+prevented, and resolving to do something for her recovery, though none
+could find anything proper to be done.
+
+Nekayah retired to her chamber, where her women attempted to comfort her
+by telling her that all had their troubles, and that Lady Pekuah had
+enjoyed much happiness in the world for a long time, and might reasonably
+expect a change of fortune. They hoped that some good would befall her
+wheresoever she was, and that their mistress would find another friend
+who might supply her place.
+
+The Princess made them no answer; and they continued the form of
+condolence, not much grieved in their hearts that the favourite was lost.
+
+Next day the Prince presented to the Bassa a memorial of the wrong which
+he had suffered, and a petition for redress. The Bassa threatened to
+punish the robbers, but did not attempt to catch them; nor indeed could
+any account or description be given by which he might direct the pursuit.
+
+It soon appeared that nothing would be done by authority. Governors
+being accustomed to hear of more crimes than they can punish, and more
+wrongs than they can redress, set themselves at ease by indiscriminate
+negligence, and presently forget the request when they lose sight of the
+petitioner.
+
+Imlac then endeavoured to gain some intelligence by private agents. He
+found many who pretended to an exact knowledge of all the haunts of the
+Arabs, and to regular correspondence with their chiefs, and who readily
+undertook the recovery of Pekuah. Of these, some were furnished with
+money for their journey, and came back no more; some were liberally paid
+for accounts which a few days discovered to be false. But the Princess
+would not suffer any means, however improbable, to be left untried.
+While she was doing something, she kept her hope alive. As one expedient
+failed, another was suggested; when one messenger returned unsuccessful,
+another was despatched to a different quarter.
+
+Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been heard; the
+hopes which they had endeavoured to raise in each other grew more
+languid; and the Princess, when she saw nothing more to be tried, sunk
+down inconsolable in hopeless dejection. A thousand times she reproached
+herself with the easy compliance by which she permitted her favourite to
+stay behind her. “Had not my fondness,” said she, “lessened my
+authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of her terrors. She ought to
+have feared me more than spectres. A severe look would have overpowered
+her; a peremptory command would have compelled obedience. Why did
+foolish indulgence prevail upon me? Why did I not speak, and refuse to
+hear?”
+
+“Great Princess,” said Imlac, “do not reproach yourself for your virtue,
+or consider that as blameable by which evil has accidentally been caused.
+Your tenderness for the timidity of Pekuah was generous and kind. When
+we act according to our duty, we commit the events to Him by whose laws
+our actions are governed, and who will suffer none to be finally punished
+for obedience. When, in prospect of some good, whether natural or moral,
+we break the rules prescribed us, we withdraw from the direction of
+superior wisdom, and take all consequences upon ourselves. Man cannot so
+far know the connection of causes and events as that he may venture to do
+wrong in order to do right. When we pursue our end by lawful means, we
+may always console our miscarriage by the hope of future recompense.
+When we consult only our own policy, and attempt to find a nearer way to
+good by over-leaping the settled boundaries of right and wrong, we cannot
+be happy even by success, because we cannot escape the consciousness of
+our fault; but if we miscarry, the disappointment is irremediably
+embittered. How comfortless is the sorrow of him who feels at once the
+pangs of guilt and the vexation of calamity which guilt has brought upon
+him!
+
+“Consider, Princess, what would have been your condition if the Lady
+Pekuah had entreated to accompany you, and, being compelled to stay in
+the tents, had been carried away; or how would you have borne the thought
+if you had forced her into the Pyramid, and she had died before you in
+agonies of terror?”
+
+“Had either happened,” said Nekayah, “I could not have endured life till
+now; I should have been tortured to madness by the remembrance of such
+cruelty, or must have pined away in abhorrence of myself.”
+
+“This, at least,” said Imlac, “is the present reward of virtuous conduct,
+that no unlucky consequence can oblige us to repent it.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+THE PRINCESS LANGUISHES FOR WANT OF PEKUAH.
+
+
+NEKAYAH, being thus reconciled to herself, found that no evil is
+insupportable but that which is accompanied with consciousness of wrong.
+She was from that time delivered from the violence of tempestuous sorrow,
+and sunk into silent pensiveness and gloomy tranquillity. She sat from
+morning to evening recollecting all that had been done or said by her
+Pekuah, treasured up with care every trifle on which Pekuah had set an
+accidental value, and which might recall to mind any little incident or
+careless conversation. The sentiments of her whom she now expected to
+see no more were treasured in her memory as rules of life, and she
+deliberated to no other end than to conjecture on any occasion what would
+have been the opinion and counsel of Pekuah.
+
+The women by whom she was attended knew nothing of her real condition,
+and therefore she could not talk to them but with caution and reserve.
+She began to remit her curiosity, having no great desire to collect
+notions which she had no convenience of uttering. Rasselas endeavoured
+first to comfort and afterwards to divert her; he hired musicians, to
+whom she seemed to listen, but did not hear them; and procured masters to
+instruct her in various arts, whose lectures, when they visited her
+again, were again to be repeated. She had lost her taste of pleasure and
+her ambition of excellence; and her mind, though forced into short
+excursions, always recurred to the image of her friend.
+
+Imlac was every morning earnestly enjoined to renew his inquiries, and
+was asked every night whether he had yet heard of Pekuah; till, not being
+able to return the Princess the answer that she desired, he was less and
+less willing to come into her presence. She observed his backwardness,
+and commanded him to attend her. “You are not,” said she, “to confound
+impatience with resentment, or to suppose that I charge you with
+negligence because I repine at your unsuccessfulness. I do not much
+wonder at your absence. I know that the unhappy are never pleasing, and
+that all naturally avoid the contagion of misery. To hear complaints is
+wearisome alike to the wretched and the happy; for who would cloud by
+adventitious grief the short gleams of gaiety which life allows us, or
+who that is struggling under his own evils will add to them the miseries
+of another?
+
+“The time is at hand when none shall be disturbed any longer by the sighs
+of Nekayah: my search after happiness is now at an end. I am resolved to
+retire from the world, with all its flatteries and deceits, and will hide
+myself in solitude, without any other care than to compose my thoughts
+and regulate my hours by a constant succession of innocent occupations,
+till, with a mind purified from earthly desires, I shall enter into that
+state to which all are hastening, and in which I hope again to enjoy the
+friendship of Pekuah.”
+
+“Do not entangle your mind,” said Imlac, “by irrevocable determinations,
+nor increase the burden of life by a voluntary accumulation of misery.
+The weariness of retirement will continue to increase when the loss of
+Pekuah is forgot. That you have been deprived of one pleasure is no very
+good reason for rejection of the rest.”
+
+“Since Pekuah was taken from me,” said the Princess, “I have no pleasure
+to reject or to retain. She that has no one to love or trust has little
+to hope. She wants the radical principle of happiness. We may perhaps
+allow that what satisfaction this world can afford must arise from the
+conjunction of wealth, knowledge, and goodness. Wealth is nothing but as
+it is bestowed, and knowledge nothing but as it is communicated. They
+must therefore be imparted to others, and to whom could I now delight to
+impart them? Goodness affords the only comfort which can be enjoyed
+without a partner, and goodness may be practised in retirement.”
+
+“How far solitude may admit goodness or advance it, I shall not,” replied
+Imlac, “dispute at present. Remember the confession of the pious hermit.
+You will wish to return into the world when the image of your companion
+has left your thoughts.”
+
+“That time,” said Nekayah, “will never come. The generous frankness, the
+modest obsequiousness, and the faithful secrecy of my dear Pekuah will
+always be more missed as I shall live longer to see vice and folly.”
+
+“The state of a mind oppressed with a sudden calamity,” said Imlac, “is
+like that of the fabulous inhabitants of the new-created earth, who, when
+the first night came upon them, supposed that day would never return.
+When the clouds of sorrow gather over us, we see nothing beyond them, nor
+can imagine how they will be dispelled; yet a new day succeeded to the
+night, and sorrow is never long without a dawn of ease. But they who
+restrain themselves from receiving comfort do as the savages would have
+done had they put out their eyes when it was dark. Our minds, like our
+bodies, are in continual flux; something is hourly lost, and something
+acquired. To lose much at once is inconvenient to either, but while the
+vital power remains uninjured, nature will find the means of reparation.
+Distance has the same effect on the mind as on the eye; and while we
+glide along the stream of time, whatever we leave behind us is always
+lessening, and that which we approach increasing in magnitude. Do not
+suffer life to stagnate: it will grow muddy for want of motion; commit
+yourself again to the current of the world; Pekuah will vanish by
+degrees; you will meet in your way some other favourite, or learn to
+diffuse yourself in general conversation.”
+
+“At least,” said the Prince, “do not despair before all remedies have
+been tried. The inquiry after the unfortunate lady is still continued,
+and shall be carried on with yet greater diligence, on condition that you
+will promise to wait a year for the event, without any unalterable
+resolution.”
+
+Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise to her
+brother, who had been obliged by Imlac to require it. Imlac had, indeed,
+no great hope of regaining Pekuah; but he supposed that if he could
+secure the interval of a year, the Princess would be then in no danger of
+a cloister.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+PEKUAH IS STILL REMEMBERED. THE PROGRESS OF SORROW.
+
+
+NEKAYAH, seeing that nothing was omitted for the recovery of her
+favourite, and having by her promise set her intention of retirement at a
+distance, began imperceptibly to return to common cares and common
+pleasures. She rejoiced without her own consent at the suspension of her
+sorrows, and sometimes caught herself with indignation in the act of
+turning away her mind from the remembrance of her whom yet she resolved
+never to forget.
+
+She then appointed a certain hour of the day for meditation on the merits
+and fondness of Pekuah, and for some weeks retired constantly at the time
+fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen and her countenance clouded.
+By degrees she grew less scrupulous, and suffered any important and
+pressing avocation to delay the tribute of daily tears. She then yielded
+to less occasions, and sometimes forgot what she was indeed afraid to
+remember, and at last wholly released herself from the duty of periodical
+affliction.
+
+Her real love of Pekuah was not yet diminished. A thousand occurrences
+brought her back to memory, and a thousand wants, which nothing but the
+confidence of friendship can supply, made her frequently regretted. She
+therefore solicited Imlac never to desist from inquiry, and to leave no
+art of intelligence untried, that at least she might have the comfort of
+knowing that she did not suffer by negligence or sluggishness. “Yet
+what,” said she, “is to be expected from our pursuit of happiness, when
+we find the state of life to be such that happiness itself is the cause
+of misery? Why should we endeavour to attain that of which the
+possession cannot be secured? I shall henceforward fear to yield my
+heart to excellence, however bright, or to fondness, however tender, lest
+I should lose again what I have lost in Pekuah.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+THE PRINCESS HEARS NEWS OF PEKUAH.
+
+
+IN seven mouths one of the messengers who had been sent away upon the day
+when the promise was drawn from the Princess, returned, after many
+unsuccessful rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with an account that
+Pekuah was in the hands of an Arab chief, who possessed a castle or
+fortress on the extremity of Egypt. The Arab, whose revenue was plunder,
+was willing to restore her, with her two attendants, for two hundred
+ounces of gold.
+
+The price was no subject of debate. The Princess was in ecstasies when
+she heard that her favourite was alive, and might so cheaply be ransomed.
+She could not think of delaying for a moment Pekuah’s happiness or her
+own, but entreated her brother to send back the messenger with the sum
+required. Imlac, being consulted, was not very confident of the veracity
+of the relater, and was still more doubtful of the Arab’s faith, who
+might, if he were too liberally trusted, detain at once the money and the
+captives. He thought it dangerous to put themselves in the power of the
+Arab by going into his district; and could not expect that the rover
+would so much expose himself as to come into the lower country, where he
+might be seized by the forces of the Bassa.
+
+It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust. But Imlac, after
+some deliberation, directed the messenger to propose that Pekuah should
+be conducted by ten horsemen to the monastery of St. Anthony, which is
+situated in the deserts of Upper Egypt, where she should be met by the
+same number, and her ransom should be paid.
+
+That no time might be lost, as they expected that the proposal would not
+be refused, they immediately began their journey to the monastery; and
+when they arrived, Imlac went forward with the former messenger to the
+Arab’s fortress. Rasselas was desirous to go with them; but neither his
+sister nor Imlac would consent. The Arab, according to the custom of his
+nation, observed the laws of hospitality with great exactness to those
+who put themselves into his power, and in a few days brought Pekuah, with
+her maids, by easy journeys, to the place appointed, where, receiving the
+stipulated price, he restored her, with great respect, to liberty and her
+friends, and undertook to conduct them back towards Cairo beyond all
+danger of robbery or violence.
+
+The Princess and her favourite embraced each other with transport too
+violent to be expressed, and went out together to pour the tears of
+tenderness in secret, and exchange professions of kindness and gratitude.
+After a few hours they returned into the refectory of the convent, where,
+in the presence of the prior and his brethren, the Prince required of
+Pekuah the history of her adventures.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+THE ADVENTURES OF THE LADY PEKUAH.
+
+
+“AT what time and in what manner I was forced away,” said Pekuah, “your
+servants have told you. The suddenness of the event struck me with
+surprise, and I was at first rather stupefied than agitated with any
+passion of either fear or sorrow. My confusion was increased by the
+speed and tumult of our flight, while we were followed by the Turks, who,
+as it seemed, soon despaired to overtake us, or were afraid of those whom
+they made a show of menacing.
+
+“When the Arabs saw themselves out of danger, they slackened their
+course; and as I was less harassed by external violence, I began to feel
+more uneasiness in my mind. After some time we stopped near a spring
+shaded with trees, in a pleasant meadow, where we were set upon the
+ground, and offered such refreshments as our masters were partaking. I
+was suffered to sit with my maids apart from the rest, and none attempted
+to comfort or insult us. Here I first began to feel the full weight of
+my misery. The girls sat weeping in silence, and from time to time
+looked on me for succour. I knew not to what condition we were doomed,
+nor could conjecture where would be the place of our captivity, or whence
+to draw any hope of deliverance. I was in the hands of robbers and
+savages, and had no reason to suppose that their pity was more than their
+justice, or that they would forbear the gratification of any ardour of
+desire or caprice of cruelty. I, however, kissed my maids, and
+endeavoured to pacify them by remarking that we were yet treated with
+decency, and that since we were now carried beyond pursuit, there was no
+danger of violence to our lives.
+
+“When we were to be set again on horseback, my maids clung round me, and
+refused to be parted; but I commanded them not to irritate those who had
+us in their power. We travelled the remaining part of the day through an
+unfrequented and pathless country, and came by moonlight to the side of a
+hill, where the rest of the troop was stationed. Their tents were
+pitched and their fires kindled, and our chief was welcomed as a man much
+beloved by his dependents.
+
+“We were received into a large tent, where we found women who had
+attended their husbands in the expedition. They set before us the supper
+which they had provided, and I ate it rather to encourage my maids than
+to comply with any appetite of my own. When the meat was taken away,
+they spread the carpets for repose. I was weary, and hoped to find in
+sleep that remission of distress which nature seldom denies. Ordering
+myself, therefore, to be undressed, I observed that the women looked very
+earnestly upon me, not expecting, I suppose, to see me so submissively
+attended. When my upper vest was taken off, they were apparently struck
+with the splendour of my clothes, and one of them timorously laid her
+hand upon the embroidery. She then went out, and in a short time came
+back with another woman, who seemed to be of higher rank and greater
+authority. She did, at her entrance, the usual act of reverence, and,
+taking me by the hand placed me in a smaller tent, spread with finer
+carpets, where I spent the night quietly with my maids.
+
+“In the morning, as I was sitting on the grass, the chief of the troop
+came towards me. I rose up to receive him, and he bowed with great
+respect. ‘Illustrious lady,’ said he, ‘my fortune is better than I had
+presumed to hope: I am told by my women that I have a princess in my
+camp.’ ‘Sir,’ answered I, ‘your women have deceived themselves and you;
+I am not a princess, but an unhappy stranger who intended soon to have
+left this country, in which I am now to be imprisoned for ever.’
+‘Whoever or whencesoever you are,’ returned the Arab, ‘your dress and
+that of your servants show your rank to be high and your wealth to be
+great. Why should you, who can so easily procure your ransom, think
+yourself in danger of perpetual captivity? The purpose of my incursions
+is to increase my riches, or, more properly, to gather tribute. The sons
+of Ishmael are the natural and hereditary lords of this part of the
+continent, which is usurped by late invaders and low-born tyrants, from
+whom we are compelled to take by the sword what is denied to justice.
+The violence of war admits no distinction: the lance that is lifted at
+guilt and power will sometimes fall on innocence and gentleness.’
+
+“‘How little,’ said I, ‘did I expect that yesterday it should have fallen
+upon me!’
+
+“’Misfortunes,’ answered the Arab, ‘should always be expected. If the
+eye of hostility could learn reverence or pity, excellence like yours had
+been exempt from injury. But the angels of affliction spread their toils
+alike for the virtuous and the wicked, for the mighty and the mean. Do
+not be disconsolate; I am not one of the lawless and cruel rovers of the
+desert; I know the rules of civil life; I will fix your ransom, give a
+passport to your messenger, and perform my stipulation with nice
+punctuality.’
+
+“You will easily believe that I was pleased with his courtesy, and
+finding that his predominant passion was desire for money, I began now to
+think my danger less, for I knew that no sum would be thought too great
+for the release of Pekuah. I told him that he should have no reason to
+charge me with ingratitude if I was used with kindness, and that any
+ransom which could be expected for a maid of common rank would be paid,
+but that he must not persist to rate me as a princess. He said he would
+consider what he should demand, and then, smiling, bowed and retired.
+
+“Soon after the women came about me, each contending to be more officious
+than the other, and my maids themselves were served with reverence. We
+travelled onward by short journeys. On the fourth day the chief told me
+that my ransom must be two hundred ounces of gold, which I not only
+promised him, but told him that I would add fifty more if I and my maids
+were honourably treated.
+
+“I never knew the power of gold before. From that time I was the leader
+of the troop. The march of every day was longer or shorter as I
+commanded, and the tents were pitched where I chose to rest. We now had
+camels and other conveniences for travel; my own women were always at my
+side, and I amused myself with observing the manners of the vagrant
+nations, and with viewing remains of ancient edifices, with which these
+deserted countries appear to have been in some distant age lavishly
+embellished.
+
+“The chief of the band was a man far from illiterate: he was able to
+travel by the stars or the compass, and had marked in his erratic
+expeditions such places as are most worthy the notice of a passenger. He
+observed to me that buildings are always best preserved in places little
+frequented and difficult of access; for when once a country declines from
+its primitive splendour, the more inhabitants are left, the quicker ruin
+will be made. Walls supply stones more easily than quarries; and palaces
+and temples will be demolished to make stables of granite and cottages of
+porphyry.’”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+THE ADVENTURES OF PEKUAH (_continued_).
+
+
+“WE wandered about in this manner for some weeks, either, as our chief
+pretended, for my gratification, or, as I rather suspected, for some
+convenience of his own. I endeavoured to appear contented where
+sullenness and resentment would have been of no use, and that endeavour
+conduced much to the calmness of my mind; but my heart was always with
+Nekayah, and the troubles of the night much overbalanced the amusements
+of the day. My women, who threw all their cares upon their mistress, set
+their minds at ease from the time when they saw me treated with respect,
+and gave themselves up to the incidental alleviations of our fatigue
+without solicitude or sorrow. I was pleased with their pleasure, and
+animated with their confidence. My condition had lost much of its
+terror, since I found that the Arab ranged the country merely to get
+riches. Avarice is a uniform and tractable vice: other intellectual
+distempers are different in different constitutions of mind; that which
+soothes the pride of one will offend the pride of another; but to the
+favour of the covetous there is a ready way—bring money, and nothing is
+denied.
+
+“At last we came to the dwelling of our chief; a strong and spacious
+house, built with stone in an island of the Nile, which lies, as I was
+told, under the tropic. ‘Lady,’ said the Arab, ‘you shall rest after
+your journey a few weeks in this place, where you are to consider
+yourself as Sovereign. My occupation is war: I have therefore chosen
+this obscure residence, from which I can issue unexpected, and to which I
+can retire unpursued. You may now repose in security: here are few
+pleasures, but here is no danger.’ He then led me into the inner
+apartments, and seating me on the richest couch, bowed to the ground.
+
+“His women, who considered me as a rival, looked on me with malignity;
+but being soon informed that I was a great lady detained only for my
+ransom, they began to vie with each other in obsequiousness and
+reverence.
+
+“Being again comforted with new assurances of speedy liberty, I was for
+some days diverted from impatience by the novelty of the place. The
+turrets overlooked the country to a great distance, and afforded a view
+of many windings of the stream. In the day I wandered from one place to
+another, as the course of the sun varied the splendour of the prospect,
+and saw many things which I had never seen before. The crocodiles and
+river-horses are common in this unpeopled region; and I often looked upon
+them with terror, though I knew they could not hurt me. For some time I
+expected to see mermaids and tritons, which, as Imlac has told me, the
+European travellers have stationed in the Nile; but no such beings ever
+appeared, and the Arab, when I inquired after them, laughed at my
+credulity.
+
+“At night the Arab always attended me to a tower set apart for celestial
+observations, where he endeavoured to teach me the names and courses of
+the stars. I had no great inclination to this study; but an appearance
+of attention was necessary to please my instructor, who valued himself
+for his skill, and in a little while I found some employment requisite to
+beguile the tediousness of time, which was to be passed always amidst the
+same objects. I was weary of looking in the morning on things from which
+I had turned away weary in the evening: I therefore was at last willing
+to observe the stars rather than do nothing, but could not always compose
+my thoughts, and was very often thinking on Nekayah when others imagined
+me contemplating the sky. Soon after, the Arab went upon another
+expedition, and then my only pleasure was to talk with my maids about the
+accident by which we were carried away, and the happiness we should all
+enjoy at the end of our captivity.”
+
+“There were women in your Arab’s fortress,” said the Princess; “why did
+you not make them your companions, enjoy their conversation, and partake
+their diversions? In a place where they found business or amusement, why
+should you alone sit corroded with idle melancholy? or why could not you
+bear for a few months that condition to which they were condemned for
+life?”
+
+“The diversions of the women,” answered Pekuah, “were only childish play,
+by which the mind accustomed to stronger operations could not be kept
+busy. I could do all which they delighted in doing by powers merely
+sensitive, while my intellectual faculties were flown to Cairo. They ran
+from room to room, as a bird hops from wire to wire in his cage. They
+danced for the sake of motion, as lambs frisk in a meadow. One sometimes
+pretended to be hurt that the rest might be alarmed, or hid herself that
+another might seek her. Part of their time passed in watching the
+progress of light bodies that floated on the river, and part in marking
+the various forms into which clouds broke in the sky.
+
+“Their business was only needlework, in which I and my maids sometimes
+helped them; but you know that the mind will easily straggle from the
+fingers, nor will you suspect that captivity and absence from Nekayah
+could receive solace from silken flowers.
+
+“Nor was much satisfaction to be hoped from their conversation: for of
+what could they be expected to talk? They had seen nothing, for they had
+lived from early youth in that narrow spot: of what they had not seen
+they could have no knowledge, for they could not read. They had no idea
+but of the few things that were within their view, and had hardly names
+for anything but their clothes and their food. As I bore a superior
+character, I was often called to terminate their quarrels, which I
+decided as equitably as I could. If it could have amused me to hear the
+complaints of each against the rest, I might have been often detained by
+long stories; but the motives of their animosity were so small that I
+could not listen without interrupting the tale.”
+
+“How,” said Rasselas, “can the Arab, whom you represented as a man of
+more than common accomplishments, take any pleasure in his seraglio, when
+it is filled only with women like these? Are they exquisitely
+beautiful?”
+
+“They do not,” said Pekuah, “want that unaffecting and ignoble beauty
+which may subsist without sprightliness or sublimity, without energy of
+thought or dignity of virtue. But to a man like the Arab such beauty was
+only a flower casually plucked and carelessly thrown away. Whatever
+pleasures he might find among them, they were not those of friendship or
+society. When they were playing about him he looked on them with
+inattentive superiority; when they vied for his regard he sometimes
+turned away disgusted. As they had no knowledge, their talk could take
+nothing from the tediousness of life; as they had no choice, their
+fondness, or appearance of fondness, excited in him neither pride nor
+gratitude. He was not exalted in his own esteem by the smiles of a woman
+who saw no other man, nor was much obliged by that regard of which he
+could never know the sincerity, and which he might often perceive to be
+exerted not so much to delight him as to pain a rival. That which he
+gave, and they received, as love, was only a careless distribution of
+superfluous time, such love as man can bestow upon that which he
+despises, such as has neither hope nor fear, neither joy nor sorrow.”
+
+“You have reason, lady, to think yourself happy,” said Imlac, “that you
+have been thus easily dismissed. How could a mind, hungry for knowledge,
+be willing, in an intellectual famine, to lose such a banquet as Pekuah’s
+conversation?”
+
+“I am inclined to believe,” answered Pekuah, “that he was for some time
+in suspense; for, notwithstanding his promise, whenever I proposed to
+despatch a messenger to Cairo he found some excuse for delay. While I
+was detained in his house he made many incursions into the neighbouring
+countries, and perhaps he would have refused to discharge me had his
+plunder been equal to his wishes. He returned always courteous, related
+his adventures, delighted to hear my observations, and endeavoured to
+advance my acquaintance with the stars. When I importuned him to send
+away my letters, he soothed me with professions of honour and sincerity;
+and when I could be no longer decently denied, put his troop again in
+motion, and left me to govern in his absence. I was much afflicted by
+this studied procrastination, and was sometimes afraid that I should be
+forgotten; that you would leave Cairo, and I must end my days in an
+island of the Nile.
+
+“I grew at last hopeless and dejected, and cared so little to entertain
+him, that he for a while more frequently talked with my maids. That he
+should fall in love with them or with me, might have been equally fatal,
+and I was not much pleased with the growing friendship. My anxiety was
+not long, for, as I recovered some degree of cheerfulness, he returned to
+me, and I could not forbear to despise my former uneasiness.
+
+“He still delayed to send for my ransom, and would perhaps never have
+determined had not your agent found his way to him. The gold, which he
+would not fetch, he could not reject when it was offered. He hastened to
+prepare for our journey hither, like a man delivered from the pain of an
+intestine conflict. I took leave of my companions in the house, who
+dismissed me with cold indifference.”
+
+Nekayah having heard her favourite’s relation, rose and embraced her, and
+Rasselas gave her a hundred ounces of gold, which she presented to the
+Arab for the fifty that were promised.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+THE HISTORY OF A MAN OF LEARNING.
+
+
+THEY returned to Cairo, and were so well pleased at finding themselves
+together that none of them went much abroad. The Prince began to love
+learning, and one day declared to Imlac that he intended to devote
+himself to science and pass the rest of his days in literary solitude.
+
+“Before you make your final choice,” answered Imlac, “you ought to
+examine its hazards, and converse with some of those who are grown old in
+the company of themselves. I have just left the observatory of one of
+the most learned astronomers in the world, who has spent forty years in
+unwearied attention to the motion and appearances of the celestial
+bodies, and has drawn out his soul in endless calculations. He admits a
+few friends once a month to hear his deductions and enjoy his
+discoveries. I was introduced as a man of knowledge worthy of his
+notice. Men of various ideas and fluent conversation are commonly
+welcome to those whose thoughts have been long fixed upon a single point,
+and who find the images of other things stealing away. I delighted him
+with my remarks. He smiled at the narrative of my travels, and was glad
+to forget the constellations and descend for a moment into the lower
+world.
+
+“On the next day of vacation I renewed my visit, and was so fortunate as
+to please him again. He relaxed from that time the severity of his rule,
+and permitted me to enter at my own choice. I found him always busy, and
+always glad to be relieved. As each knew much which the other was
+desirous of learning, we exchanged our notions with great delight. I
+perceived that I had every day more of his confidence, and always found
+new cause of admiration in the profundity of his mind. His comprehension
+is vast, his memory capacious and retentive, his discourse is methodical,
+and his expression clear.
+
+“His integrity and benevolence are equal to his learning. His deepest
+researches and most favourite studies are willingly interrupted for any
+opportunity of doing good by his counsel or his riches. To his closest
+retreat, at his most busy moments, all are admitted that want his
+assistance; ‘For though I exclude idleness and pleasure, I will never,’
+says he, ‘bar my doors against charity. To man is permitted the
+contemplation of the skies, but the practice of virtue is commanded.’”
+
+“Surely,” said the Princess, “this man is happy.”
+
+“I visited him,” said Imlac, “with more and more frequency, and was every
+time more enamoured of his conversation; he was sublime without
+haughtiness, courteous without formality, and communicative without
+ostentation. I was at first, great Princess, of your opinion, thought
+him the happiest of mankind, and often congratulated him on the blessing
+that he enjoyed. He seemed to hear nothing with indifference but the
+praises of his condition, to which he always returned a general answer,
+and diverted the conversation to some other topic.
+
+“Amidst this willingness to be pleased and labour to please, I had
+quickly reason to imagine that some painful sentiment pressed upon his
+mind. He often looked up earnestly towards the sun, and let his voice
+fall in the midst of his discourse. He would sometimes, when we were
+alone, gaze upon me in silence with the air of a man who longed to speak
+what he was yet resolved to suppress. He would often send for me with
+vehement injunction of haste, though when I came to him he had nothing
+extraordinary to say; and sometimes, when I was leaving him, would call
+me back, pause a few moments, and then dismiss me.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+THE ASTRONOMER DISCOVERS THE CAUSE OF HIS UNEASINESS.
+
+
+“AT last the time came when the secret burst his reserve. We were
+sitting together last night in the turret of his house watching the
+immersion of a satellite of Jupiter. A sudden tempest clouded the sky
+and disappointed our observation. We sat awhile silent in the dark, and
+then he addressed himself to me in these words: ‘Imlac, I have long
+considered thy friendship as the greatest blessing of my life. Integrity
+without knowledge is weak and useless, and knowledge without integrity is
+dangerous and dreadful. I have found in thee all the qualities requisite
+for trust—benevolence, experience, and fortitude. I have long discharged
+an office which I must soon quit at the call of Nature, and shall rejoice
+in the hour of imbecility and pain to devolve it upon thee.’
+
+“I thought myself honoured by this testimony, and protested that whatever
+could conduce to his happiness would add likewise to mine.
+
+“‘Hear, Imlac, what thou wilt not without difficulty credit. I have
+possessed for five years the regulation of the weather and the
+distribution of the seasons. The sun has listened to my dictates, and
+passed from tropic to tropic by my direction; the clouds at my call have
+poured their waters, and the Nile has overflowed at my command. I have
+restrained the rage of the dog-star, and mitigated the fervours of the
+crab. The winds alone, of all the elemental powers, have hitherto
+refused my authority, and multitudes have perished by equinoctial
+tempests which I found myself unable to prohibit or restrain. I have
+administered this great office with exact justice, and made to the
+different nations of the earth an impartial dividend of rain and
+sunshine. What must have been the misery of half the globe if I had
+limited the clouds to particular regions, or confined the sun to either
+side of the equator?’”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+THE OPINION OF THE ASTRONOMER IS EXPLAINED AND JUSTIFIED.
+
+
+“I SUPPOSE he discovered in me, through the obscurity of the room, some
+tokens of amazement and doubt, for after a short pause he proceeded
+thus:—
+
+“‘Not to be easily credited will neither surprise nor offend me, for I am
+probably the first of human beings to whom this trust has been imparted.
+Nor do I know whether to deem this distinction a reward or punishment.
+Since I have possessed it I have been far less happy than before, and
+nothing but the consciousness of good intention could have enabled me to
+support the weariness of unremitted vigilance.’
+
+“‘How long, sir,’ said I, ‘has this great office been in your hands?’
+
+“‘About ten years ago,’ said he, ‘my daily observations of the changes of
+the sky led me to consider whether, if I had the power of the seasons, I
+could confer greater plenty upon the inhabitants of the earth. This
+contemplation fastened on my mind, and I sat days and nights in imaginary
+dominion, pouring upon this country and that the showers of fertility,
+and seconding every fall of rain with a due proportion of sunshine. I
+had yet only the will to do good, and did not imagine that I should ever
+have the power.
+
+“‘One day as I was looking on the fields withering with heat, I felt in
+my mind a sudden wish that I could send rain on the southern mountains,
+and raise the Nile to an inundation. In the hurry of my imagination I
+commanded rain to fall; and by comparing the time of my command with that
+of the inundation, I found that the clouds had listened to my lips.’
+
+“‘Might not some other cause,’ said I, ‘produce this concurrence? The
+Nile does not always rise on the same day.’
+
+“‘Do not believe,’ said he, with impatience, ‘that such objections could
+escape me. I reasoned long against my own conviction, and laboured
+against truth with the utmost obstinacy. I sometimes suspected myself of
+madness, and should not have dared to impart this secret but to a man
+like you, capable of distinguishing the wonderful from the impossible,
+and the incredible from the false.’
+
+“‘Why, sir,’ said I, ‘do you call that incredible which you know, or
+think you know, to be true?’
+
+“‘Because,’ said he, ‘I cannot prove it by any external evidence; and I
+know too well the laws of demonstration to think that my conviction ought
+to influence another, who cannot, like me, be conscious of its force. I
+therefore shall not attempt to gain credit by disputation. It is
+sufficient that I feel this power that I have long possessed, and every
+day exerted it. But the life of man is short; the infirmities of age
+increase upon me, and the time will soon come when the regulator of the
+year must mingle with the dust. The care of appointing a successor has
+long disturbed me; the night and the day have been spent in comparisons
+of all the characters which have come to my knowledge, and I have yet
+found none so worthy as thyself.’”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+THE ASTRONOMER LEAVES IMLAC HIS DIRECTIONS.
+
+
+“‘HEAR, therefore, what I shall impart with attention, such as the
+welfare of a world requires. If the task of a king be considered as
+difficult, who has the care only of a few millions, to whom he cannot do
+much good or harm, what must be the anxiety of him on whom depends the
+action of the elements and the great gifts of light and heat? Hear me,
+therefore, with attention.
+
+“‘I have diligently considered the position of the earth and sun, and
+formed innumerable schemes, in which I changed their situation. I have
+sometimes turned aside the axis of the earth, and sometimes varied the
+ecliptic of the sun, but I have found it impossible to make a disposition
+by which the world may be advantaged; what one region gains another loses
+by an imaginable alteration, even without considering the distant parts
+of the solar system with which we are acquainted. Do not, therefore, in
+thy administration of the year, indulge thy pride by innovation; do not
+please thyself with thinking that thou canst make thyself renowned to all
+future ages by disordering the seasons. The memory of mischief is no
+desirable fame. Much less will it become thee to let kindness or
+interest prevail. Never rob other countries of rain to pour it on thine
+own. For us the Nile is sufficient.’
+
+“I promised that when I possessed the power I would use it with
+inflexible integrity; and he dismissed me, pressing my hand. ‘My heart,’
+said he, ‘will be now at rest, and my benevolence will no more destroy my
+quiet; I have found a man of wisdom and virtue, to whom I can cheerfully
+bequeath the inheritance of the sun.’”
+
+The Prince heard this narration with very serious regard; but the
+Princess smiled, and Pekuah convulsed herself with laughter. “Ladies,”
+said Imlac, “to mock the heaviest of human afflictions is neither
+charitable nor wise. Few can attain this man’s knowledge and few
+practise his virtues, but all may suffer his calamity. Of the
+uncertainties of our present state, the most dreadful and alarming is the
+uncertain continuance of reason.”
+
+The Princess was recollected, and the favourite was abashed. Rasselas,
+more deeply affected, inquired of Imlac whether he thought such maladies
+of the mind frequent, and how they were contracted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+THE DANGEROUS PREVALENCE OF IMAGINATION.
+
+
+“DISORDERS of intellect,” answered Imlac, “happen much more often than
+superficial observers will easily believe. Perhaps if we speak with
+rigorous exactness, no human mind is in its right state. There is no man
+whose imagination does not sometimes predominate over his reason who can
+regulate his attention wholly by his will, and whose ideas will come and
+go at his command. No man will be found in whose mind airy notions do
+not sometimes tyrannise, and force him to hope or fear beyond the limits
+of sober probability. All power of fancy over reason is a degree of
+insanity, but while this power is such as we can control and repress it
+is not visible to others, nor considered as any deprivation of the mental
+faculties; it is not pronounced madness but when it becomes ungovernable,
+and apparently influences speech or action.
+
+“To indulge the power of fiction and send imagination out upon the wing
+is often the sport of those who delight too much in silent speculation.
+When we are alone we are not always busy; the labour of excogitation is
+too violent to last long; the ardour of inquiry will sometimes give way
+to idleness or satiety. He who has nothing external that can divert him
+must find pleasure in his own thoughts, and must conceive himself what he
+is not; for who is pleased with what he is? He then expatiates in
+boundless futurity, and culls from all imaginable conditions that which
+for the present moment he should most desire, amuses his desires with
+impossible enjoyments, and confers upon his pride unattainable dominion.
+The mind dances from scene to scene, unites all pleasures in all
+combinations, and riots in delights which Nature and fortune, with all
+their bounty, cannot bestow.
+
+“In time some particular train of ideas fixes the attention; all other
+intellectual gratifications are rejected; the mind, in weariness or
+leisure, recurs constantly to the favourite conception, and feasts on the
+luscious falsehood whenever she is offended with the bitterness of truth.
+By degrees the reign of fancy is confirmed; she grows first imperious and
+in time despotic. Then fictions begin to operate as realities, false
+opinions fasten upon the mind, and life passes in dreams of rapture or of
+anguish.
+
+“This, sir, is one of the dangers of solitude, which the hermit has
+confessed not always to promote goodness, and the astronomer’s misery has
+proved to be not always propitious to wisdom.”
+
+“I will no more,” said the favourite, “imagine myself the Queen of
+Abyssinia. I have often spent the hours which the Princess gave to my
+own disposal in adjusting ceremonies and regulating the Court; I have
+repressed the pride of the powerful and granted the petitions of the
+poor; I have built new palaces in more happy situations, planted groves
+upon the tops of mountains, and have exulted in the beneficence of
+royalty, till, when the Princess entered, I had almost forgotten to bow
+down before her.”
+
+“And I,” said the Princess, “will not allow myself any more to play the
+shepherdess in my waking dreams. I have often soothed my thoughts with
+the quiet and innocence of pastoral employments, till I have in my
+chamber heard the winds whistle and the sheep bleat; sometimes freed the
+lamb entangled in the thicket, and sometimes with my crook encountered
+the wolf. I have a dress like that of the village maids, which I put on
+to help my imagination, and a pipe on which I play softly, and suppose
+myself followed by my flocks.”
+
+“I will confess,” said the Prince, “an indulgence of fantastic delight
+more dangerous than yours. I have frequently endeavoured to imagine the
+possibility of a perfect government, by which all wrong should be
+restrained, all vice reformed, and all the subjects preserved in
+tranquillity and innocence. This thought produced innumerable schemes of
+reformation, and dictated many useful regulations and salutary effects.
+This has been the sport and sometimes the labour of my solitude, and I
+start when I think with how little anguish I once supposed the death of
+my father and my brothers.”
+
+“Such,” said Imlac, “are the effects of visionary schemes. When we first
+form them, we know them to be absurd, but familiarise them by degrees,
+and in time lose sight of their folly.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+THEY DISCOURSE WITH AN OLD MAN.
+
+
+THE evening was now far past, and they rose to return home. As they
+walked along the banks of the Nile, delighted with the beams of the moon
+quivering on the water, they saw at a small distance an old man whom the
+Prince had often heard in the assembly of the sages. “Yonder,” said he,
+“is one whose years have calmed his passions, but not clouded his reason.
+Let us close the disquisitions of the night by inquiring what are his
+sentiments of his own state, that we may know whether youth alone is to
+struggle with vexation, and whether any better hope remains for the
+latter part of life.”
+
+Here the sage approached and saluted them. They invited him to join
+their walk, and prattled awhile as acquaintance that had unexpectedly met
+one another. The old man was cheerful and talkative, and the way seemed
+short in his company. He was pleased to find himself not disregarded,
+accompanied them to their house, and, at the Prince’s request, entered
+with them. They placed him in the seat of honour, and set wine and
+conserves before him.
+
+“Sir,” said the Princess, “an evening walk must give to a man of learning
+like you pleasures which ignorance and youth can hardly conceive. You
+know the qualities and the causes of all that you behold—the laws by
+which the river flows, the periods in which the planets perform their
+revolutions. Everything must supply you with contemplation, and renew
+the consciousness of your own dignity.”
+
+“Lady,” answered he, “let the gay and the vigorous expect pleasure in
+their excursions: it is enough that age can attain ease. To me the world
+has lost its novelty. I look round, and see what I remember to have seen
+in happier days. I rest against a tree, and consider that in the same
+shade I once disputed upon the annual overflow of the Nile with a friend
+who is now silent in the grave. I cast my eyes upwards, fix them on the
+changing moon, and think with pain on the vicissitudes of life. I have
+ceased to take much delight in physical truth; for what have I to do with
+those things which I am soon to leave?”
+
+“You may at least recreate yourself,” said Imlac, “with the recollection
+of an honourable and useful life, and enjoy the praise which all agree to
+give you.”
+
+“Praise,” said the sage with a sigh, “is to an old man an empty sound. I
+have neither mother to be delighted with the reputation of her son, nor
+wife to partake the honours of her husband. I have outlived my friends
+and my rivals. Nothing is now of much importance; for I cannot extend my
+interest beyond myself. Youth is delighted with applause, because it is
+considered as the earnest of some future good, and because the prospect
+of life is far extended; but to me, who am now declining to decrepitude,
+there is little to be feared from the malevolence of men, and yet less to
+be hoped from their affection or esteem. Something they may yet take
+away, but they can give me nothing. Riches would now be useless, and
+high employment would be pain. My retrospect of life recalls to my view
+many opportunities of good neglected, much time squandered upon trifles,
+and more lost in idleness and vacancy. I leave many great designs
+unattempted, and many great attempts unfinished. My mind is burdened
+with no heavy crime, and therefore I compose myself to tranquillity;
+endeavour to abstract my thoughts from hopes and cares which, though
+reason knows them to be vain, still try to keep their old possession of
+the heart; expect, with serene humility, that hour which nature cannot
+long delay, and hope to possess in a better state that happiness which
+here I could not find, and that virtue which here I have not attained.”
+
+He arose and went away, leaving his audience not much elated with the
+hope of long life. The Prince consoled himself with remarking that it
+was not reasonable to be disappointed by this account; for age had never
+been considered as the season of felicity, and if it was possible to be
+easy in decline and weakness, it was likely that the days of vigour and
+alacrity might be happy; that the noon of life might be bright, if the
+evening could be calm.
+
+The Princess suspected that age was querulous and malignant, and
+delighted to repress the expectations of those who had newly entered the
+world. She had seen the possessors of estates look with envy on their
+heirs, and known many who enjoyed pleasures no longer than they could
+confine it to themselves.
+
+Pekuah conjectured that the man was older than he appeared, and was
+willing to impute his complaints to delirious dejection; or else supposed
+that he had been unfortunate, and was therefore discontented. “For
+nothing,” said she, “is more common than to call our own condition the
+condition of life.”
+
+Imlac, who had no desire to see them depressed, smiled at the comforts
+which they could so readily procure to themselves; and remembered that at
+the same age he was equally confident of unmingled prosperity, and
+equally fertile of consolatory expedients. He forbore to force upon them
+unwelcome knowledge, which time itself would too soon impress. The
+Princess and her lady retired; the madness of the astronomer hung upon
+their minds; and they desired Imlac to enter upon his office, and delay
+next morning the rising of the sun.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+THE PRINCESS AND PEKUAH VISIT THE ASTRONOMER.
+
+
+THE Princess and Pekuah, having talked in private of Imlac’s astronomer,
+thought his character at once so amiable and so strange that they could
+not be satisfied without a nearer knowledge, and Imlac was requested to
+find the means of bringing them together.
+
+This was somewhat difficult. The philosopher had never received any
+visits from women, though he lived in a city that had in it many
+Europeans, who followed the manners of their own countries, and many from
+other parts of the world, that lived there with European liberty. The
+ladies would not be refused, and several schemes were proposed for the
+accomplishment of their design. It was proposed to introduce them as
+strangers in distress, to whom the sage was always accessible; but after
+some deliberation it appeared that by this artifice no acquaintance could
+be formed, for their conversation would be short, and they could not
+decently importune him often. “This,” said Rasselas, “is true; but I
+have yet a stronger objection against the misrepresentation of your
+state. I have always considered it as treason against the great republic
+of human nature to make any man’s virtues the means of deceiving him,
+whether on great or little occasions. All imposture weakens confidence
+and chills benevolence. When the sage finds that you are not what you
+seemed, he will feel the resentment natural to a man who, conscious of
+great abilities, discovers that he has been tricked by understandings
+meaner than his own, and perhaps the distrust which he can never
+afterwards wholly lay aside may stop the voice of counsel and close the
+hand of charity; and where will you find the power of restoring his
+benefactions to mankind, or his peace to himself?”
+
+To this no reply was attempted, and Imlac began to hope that their
+curiosity would subside; but next day Pekuah told him she had now found
+an honest pretence for a visit to the astronomer, for she would solicit
+permission to continue under him the studies in which she had been
+initiated by the Arab, and the Princess might go with her, either as a
+fellow-student, or because a woman could not decently come alone. “I am
+afraid,” said Imlac, “that he will soon be weary of your company. Men
+advanced far in knowledge do not love to repeat the elements of their
+art, and I am not certain that even of the elements, as he will deliver
+them, connected with inferences and mingled with reflections, you are a
+very capable auditress.” “That,” said Pekuah, “must be my care. I ask
+of you only to take me thither. My knowledge is perhaps more than you
+imagine it, and by concurring always with his opinions I shall make him
+think it greater than it is.”
+
+The astronomer, in pursuance of this resolution, was told that a foreign
+lady, travelling in search of knowledge, had heard of his reputation, and
+was desirous to become his scholar. The uncommonness of the proposal
+raised at once his surprise and curiosity, and when after a short
+deliberation he consented to admit her, he could not stay without
+impatience till the next day.
+
+The ladies dressed themselves magnificently, and were attended by Imlac
+to the astronomer, who was pleased to see himself approached with respect
+by persons of so splendid an appearance. In the exchange of the first
+civilities he was timorous and bashful; but when the talk became regular,
+he recollected his powers, and justified the character which Imlac had
+given. Inquiring of Pekuah what could have turned her inclination
+towards astronomy, he received from her a history of her adventure at the
+Pyramid, and of the time passed in the Arab’s island. She told her tale
+with ease and elegance, and her conversation took possession of his
+heart. The discourse was then turned to astronomy. Pekuah displayed
+what she knew. He looked upon her as a prodigy of genius, and entreated
+her not to desist from a study which she had so happily begun.
+
+They came again and again, and were every time more welcome than before.
+The sage endeavoured to amuse them, that they might prolong their visits,
+for he found his thoughts grow brighter in their company; the clouds of
+solitude vanished by degrees as he forced himself to entertain them, and
+he grieved when he was left, at their departure, to his old employment of
+regulating the seasons.
+
+The Princess and her favourite had now watched his lips for several
+months, and could not catch a single word from which they could judge
+whether he continued or not in the opinion of his preternatural
+commission. They often contrived to bring him to an open declaration;
+but he easily eluded all their attacks, and, on which side soever they
+pressed him, escaped from them to some other topic.
+
+As their familiarity increased, they invited him often to the house of
+Imlac, where they distinguished him by extraordinary respect. He began
+gradually to delight in sublunary pleasures. He came early and departed
+late; laboured to recommend himself by assiduity and compliance; excited
+their curiosity after new arts, that they might still want his
+assistance; and when they made any excursion of pleasure or inquiry,
+entreated to attend them.
+
+By long experience of his integrity and wisdom, the Prince and his sister
+were convinced that he might be trusted without danger; and lest he
+should draw any false hopes from the civilities which he received,
+discovered to him their condition, with the motives of their journey, and
+required his opinion on the choice of life.
+
+“Of the various conditions which the world spreads before you which you
+shall prefer,” said the sage, “I am not able to instruct you. I can only
+tell that I have chosen wrong. I have passed my time in study without
+experience—in the attainment of sciences which can for the most part be
+but remotely useful to mankind. I have purchased knowledge at the
+expense of all the common comforts of life; I have missed the endearing
+elegance of female friendship, and the happy commerce of domestic
+tenderness. If I have obtained any prerogatives above other students,
+they have been accompanied with fear, disquiet, and scrupulosity; but
+even of these prerogatives, whatever they were, I have, since my thoughts
+have been diversified by more intercourse with the world, begun to
+question the reality. When I have been for a few days lost in pleasing
+dissipation, I am always tempted to think that my inquiries have ended in
+error, and that I have suffered much, and suffered it in vain.”
+
+Imlac was delighted to find that the sage’s understanding was breaking
+through its mists, and resolved to detain him from the planets till he
+should forget his task of ruling them, and reason should recover its
+original influence.
+
+From this time the astronomer was received into familiar friendship, and
+partook of all their projects and pleasures; his respect kept him
+attentive, and the activity of Rasselas did not leave much time
+unengaged. Something was always to be done; the day was spent in making
+observations, which furnished talk for the evening, and the evening was
+closed with a scheme for the morrow.
+
+The sage confessed to Imlac that since he had mingled in the gay tumults
+of life, and divided his hours by a succession of amusements, he found
+the conviction of his authority over the skies fade gradually from his
+mind, and began to trust less to an opinion which he never could prove to
+others, and which he now found subject to variation, from causes in which
+reason had no part. “If I am accidentally left alone for a few hours,”
+said he, “my inveterate persuasion rushes upon my soul, and my thoughts
+are chained down by some irresistible violence; but they are soon
+disentangled by the Prince’s conversation, and instantaneously released
+at the entrance of Pekuah. I am like a man habitually afraid of
+spectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and wonders at the dread which
+harassed him in the dark; yet, if his lamp be extinguished, feels again
+the terrors which he knows that when it is light he shall feel no more.
+But I am sometimes afraid, lest I indulge my quiet by criminal
+negligence, and voluntarily forget the great charge with which I am
+entrusted. If I favour myself in a known error, or am determined by my
+own ease in a doubtful question of this importance, how dreadful is my
+crime!”
+
+“No disease of the imagination,” answered Imlac, “is so difficult of cure
+as that which is complicated with the dread of guilt; fancy and
+conscience then act interchangeably upon us, and so often shift their
+places, that the illusions of one are not distinguished from the dictates
+of the other. If fancy presents images not moral or religious, the mind
+drives them away when they give it pain; but when melancholy notions take
+the form of duty, they lay hold on the faculties without opposition,
+because we are afraid to exclude or banish them. For this reason the
+superstitious are often melancholy, and the melancholy almost always
+superstitious.
+
+“But do not let the suggestions of timidity overpower your better reason;
+the danger of neglect can be but as the probability of the obligation,
+which, when you consider it with freedom, you find very little, and that
+little growing every day less. Open your heart to the influence of the
+light, which from time to time breaks in upon you; when scruples
+importune you, which you in your lucid moments know to be vain, do not
+stand to parley, but fly to business or to Pekuah; and keep this thought
+always prevalent, that you are only one atom of the mass of humanity, and
+have neither such virtue nor vice as that you should be singled out for
+supernatural favours or afflictions.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+THE PRINCE ENTERS, AND BRINGS A NEW TOPIC.
+
+
+“ALL this,” said the astronomer, “I have often thought; but my reason has
+been so long subjugated by an uncontrollable and overwhelming idea, that
+it durst not confide in its own decisions. I now see how fatally I
+betrayed my quiet, by suffering chimeras to prey upon me in secret; but
+melancholy shrinks from communication, and I never found a man before to
+whom I could impart my troubles, though I had been certain of relief. I
+rejoice to find my own sentiments confirmed by yours, who are not easily
+deceived, and can have no motive or purpose to deceive. I hope that time
+and variety will dissipate the gloom that has so long surrounded me, and
+the latter part of my days will be spent in peace.”
+
+“Your learning and virtue,” said Imlac, “may justly give you hopes.”
+
+Rasselas then entered, with the Princess and Pekuah, and inquired whether
+they had contrived any new diversion for the next day. “Such,” said
+Nekayah, “is the state of life, that none are happy but by the
+anticipation of change; the change itself is nothing; when we have made
+it the next wish is to change again. The world is not yet exhausted: let
+me see something to-morrow which I never saw before.”
+
+“Variety,” said Rasselas, “is so necessary to content, that even the
+Happy Valley disgusted me by the recurrence of its luxuries; yet I could
+not forbear to reproach myself with impatience when I saw the monks of
+St. Anthony support, without complaint, a life, not of uniform delight,
+but uniform hardship.”
+
+“Those men,” answered Imlac, “are less wretched in their silent convent
+than the Abyssinian princes in their prison of pleasure. Whatever is
+done by the monks is incited by an adequate and reasonable motive. Their
+labour supplies them with necessaries; it therefore cannot be omitted,
+and is certainly rewarded. Their devotion prepares them for another
+state, and reminds them of its approach while it fits them for it. Their
+time is regularly distributed; one duty succeeds another, so that they
+are not left open to the distraction of unguided choice, nor lost in the
+shades of listless inactivity. There is a certain task to be performed
+at an appropriated hour, and their toils are cheerful, because they
+consider them as acts of piety by which they are always advancing towards
+endless felicity.”
+
+“Do you think,” said Nekayah, “that the monastic rule is a more holy and
+less imperfect state than any other? May not he equally hope for future
+happiness who converses openly with mankind, who succours the distressed
+by his charity, instructs the ignorant by his learning, and contributes
+by his industry to the general system of life, even though he should omit
+some of the mortifications which are practised in the cloister, and allow
+himself such harmless delights as his condition may place within his
+reach?”
+
+“This,” said Imlac, “is a question which has long divided the wise and
+perplexed the good. I am afraid to decide on either part. He that lives
+well in the world is better than he that lives well in a monastery. But
+perhaps everyone is not able to stem the temptations of public life, and
+if he cannot conquer he may properly retreat. Some have little power to
+do good, and have likewise little strength to resist evil. Many are
+weary of the conflicts with adversity, and are willing to eject those
+passions which have long busied them in vain. And many are dismissed by
+age and diseases from the more laborious duties of society. In
+monasteries the weak and timorous may be happily sheltered, the weary may
+repose, and the penitent may meditate. Those retreats of prayer and
+contemplation have something so congenial to the mind of man, that
+perhaps there is scarcely one that does not purpose to close his life in
+pious abstraction, with a few associates serious as himself.”
+
+“Such,” said Pekuah, “has often been my wish, and I have heard the
+Princess declare that she should not willingly die in a crowd.”
+
+“The liberty of using harmless pleasures,” proceeded Imlac, “will not be
+disputed, but it is still to be examined what pleasures are harmless.
+The evil of any pleasure that Nekayah can image is not in the act itself
+but in its consequences. Pleasure in itself harmless may become
+mischievous by endearing to us a state which we know to be transient and
+probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts from that of which every hour
+brings us nearer to the beginning, and of which no length of time will
+bring us to the end. Mortification is not virtuous in itself, nor has
+any other use but that it disengages us from the allurements of sense.
+In the state of future perfection to which we all aspire there will be
+pleasure without danger and security without restraint.”
+
+The Princess was silent, and Rasselas, turning to the astronomer, asked
+him whether he could not delay her retreat by showing her something which
+she had not seen before.
+
+“Your curiosity,” said the sage, “has been so general, and your pursuit
+of knowledge so vigorous, that novelties are not now very easily to be
+found; but what you can no longer procure from the living may be given by
+the dead. Among the wonders of this country are the catacombs, or the
+ancient repositories in which the bodies of the earliest generations were
+lodged, and where, by the virtue of the gums which embalmed them, they
+yet remain without corruption.”
+
+“I know not,” said Rasselas, “what pleasure the sight of the catacombs
+can afford; but, since nothing else is offered, I am resolved to view
+them, and shall place this with my other things which I have done because
+I would do something.”
+
+They hired a guard of horsemen, and the next day visited the catacombs.
+When they were about to descend into the sepulchral caves, “Pekuah,” said
+the Princess, “we are now again invading the habitations of the dead; I
+know that you will stay behind. Let me find you safe when I return.”
+“No, I will not be left,” answered Pekuah, “I will go down between you
+and the Prince.”
+
+They then all descended, and roved with wonder through the labyrinth of
+subterraneous passages, where the bodies were laid in rows on either
+side.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+IMLAC DISCOURSES ON THE NATURE OF THE SOUL.
+
+
+“WHAT reason,” said the Prince, “can be given why the Egyptians should
+thus expensively preserve those carcases which some nations consume with
+fire, others lay to mingle with the earth, and all agree to remove from
+their sight as soon as decent rites can be performed?”
+
+“The original of ancient customs,” said Imlac, “is commonly unknown, for
+the practice often continues when the cause has ceased; and concerning
+superstitious ceremonies it is vain to conjecture; for what reason did
+not dictate, reason cannot explain. I have long believed that the
+practice of embalming arose only from tenderness to the remains of
+relations or friends; and to this opinion I am more inclined because it
+seems impossible that this care should have been general; had all the
+dead been embalmed, their repositories must in time have been more
+spacious than the dwellings of the living. I suppose only the rich or
+honourable were secured from corruption, and the rest left to the course
+of nature.
+
+“But it is commonly supposed that the Egyptians believed the soul to live
+as long as the body continued undissolved, and therefore tried this
+method of eluding death.”
+
+“Could the wise Egyptians,” said Nekayah, “think so grossly of the soul?
+If the soul could once survive its separation, what could it afterwards
+receive or suffer from the body?”
+
+“The Egyptians would doubtless think erroneously,” said the astronomer,
+“in the darkness of heathenism and the first dawn of philosophy. The
+nature of the soul is still disputed amidst all our opportunities of
+clearer knowledge; some yet say that it may be material, who,
+nevertheless, believe it to be immortal.”
+
+“Some,” answered Imlac, “have indeed said that the soul is material, but
+I can scarcely believe that any man has thought it who knew how to think;
+for all the conclusions of reason enforce the immateriality of mind, and
+all the notices of sense and investigations of science concur to prove
+the unconsciousness of matter.
+
+“It was never supposed that cogitation is inherent in matter, or that
+every particle is a thinking being. Yet if any part of matter be devoid
+of thought, what part can we suppose to think? Matter can differ from
+matter only in form, density, bulk, motion, and direction of motion. To
+which of these, however varied or combined, can consciousness be annexed?
+To be round or square, to be solid or fluid, to be great or little, to be
+moved slowly or swiftly, one way or another, are modes of material
+existence all equally alien from the nature of cogitation. If matter be
+once without thought, it can only be made to think by some new
+modification; but all the modifications which it can admit are equally
+unconnected with cogitative powers.”
+
+“But the materialists,” said the astronomer, “urge that matter may have
+qualities with which we are unacquainted.”
+
+“He who will determine,” returned Imlac, “against that which he knows
+because there may be something which he knows not; he that can set
+hypothetical possibility against acknowledged certainty, is not to be
+admitted among reasonable beings. All that we know of matter is, that
+matter is inert, senseless, and lifeless; and if this conviction cannot
+he opposed but by referring us to something that we know not, we have all
+the evidence that human intellect can admit. If that which is known may
+be overruled by that which is unknown, no being, not omniscient, can
+arrive at certainty.”
+
+“Yet let us not,” said the astronomer, “too arrogantly limit the
+Creator’s power.”
+
+“It is no limitation of Omnipotence,” replied the poet, “to suppose that
+one thing is not consistent with another, that the same proposition
+cannot be at once true and false, that the same number cannot be even and
+odd, that cogitation cannot be conferred on that which is created
+incapable of cogitation.”
+
+“I know not,” said Nekayah, “any great use of this question. Does that
+immateriality, which in my opinion you have sufficiently proved,
+necessarily include eternal duration?”
+
+“Of immateriality,” said Imlac, “our ideas are negative, and therefore
+obscure. Immateriality seems to imply a natural power of perpetual
+duration as a consequence of exemption from all causes of decay: whatever
+perishes is destroyed by the solution of its contexture and separation of
+its parts; nor can we conceive how that which has no parts, and therefore
+admits no solution, can be naturally corrupted or impaired.”
+
+“I know not,” said Rasselas, “how to conceive anything without extension:
+what is extended must have parts, and you allow that whatever has parts
+may be destroyed.”
+
+“Consider your own conceptions,” replied Imlac, “and the difficulty will
+be less. You will find substance without extension. An ideal form is no
+less real than material bulk; yet an ideal form has no extension. It is
+no less certain, when you think on a pyramid, that your mind possesses
+the idea of a pyramid, than that the pyramid itself is standing. What
+space does the idea of a pyramid occupy more than the idea of a grain of
+corn? or how can either idea suffer laceration? As is the effect, such
+is the cause; as thought, such is the power that thinks, a power
+impassive and indiscerptible.”
+
+“But the Being,” said Nekayah, “whom I fear to name, the Being which made
+the soul, can destroy it.”
+
+“He surely can destroy it,” answered Imlac, “since, however imperishable,
+it receives from a superior nature its power of duration. That it will
+not perish by any inherent cause of decay or principle of corruption, may
+be shown by philosophy; but philosophy can tell no more. That it will
+not be annihilated by Him that made it, we must humbly learn from higher
+authority.”
+
+The whole assembly stood awhile silent and collected. “Let us return,”
+said Rasselas, “from this scene of mortality. How gloomy would be these
+mansions of the dead to him who did not know that he should never die;
+that what now acts shall continue its agency, and what now thinks shall
+think on for ever. Those that lie here stretched before us, the wise and
+the powerful of ancient times, warn us to remember the shortness of our
+present state; they were perhaps snatched away while they were busy, like
+us, in the _choice of life_.”
+
+“To me,” said the Princess, “the choice of life is become less important;
+I hope hereafter to think only on the choice of eternity.”
+
+They then hastened out of the caverns, and under the protection of their
+guard returned to Cairo.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+THE CONCLUSION, IN WHICH NOTHING IS CONCLUDED.
+
+
+IT was now the time of the inundation of the Nile. A few days after
+their visit to the catacombs the river began to rise.
+
+They were confined to their house. The whole region being under water,
+gave them no invitation to any excursions; and being well supplied with
+materials for talk, they diverted themselves with comparisons of the
+different forms of life which they had observed, and with various schemes
+of happiness which each of them had formed.
+
+Pekuah was never so much charmed with any place as the Convent of St.
+Anthony, where the Arab restored her to the Princess, and wished only to
+fill it with pious maidens and to be made prioress of the order. She was
+weary of expectation and disgust, and would gladly be fixed in some
+unvariable state.
+
+The Princess thought that, of all sublunary things, knowledge was the
+best. She desired first to learn all sciences, and then proposed to
+found a college of learned women, in which she would preside, that, by
+conversing with the old and educating the young, she might divide her
+time between the acquisition and communication of wisdom, and raise up
+for the next age models of prudence and patterns of piety.
+
+The Prince desired a little kingdom in which he might administer justice
+in his own person and see all the parts of government with his own eyes;
+but he could never fix the limits of his dominion, and was always adding
+to the number of his subjects.
+
+Imlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along the stream of
+life without directing their course to any particular port.
+
+Of those wishes that they had formed they well knew that none could be
+obtained. They deliberated awhile what was to be done, and resolved,
+when the inundation should cease, to return to Abyssinia.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ Printed by Cassell & Company, Limited, La Belle Sauvage, London, E.C.
+
+
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Rasselas, by Samuel Johnson, Edited by Henry
+Morley
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Rasselas
+ Prince of Abyssinia
+
+
+Author: Samuel Johnson
+
+Editor: Henry Morley
+
+Release Date: January 31, 2013 [eBook #652]
+[This file was first posted on September 17, 1996]
+[Last updated September 8, 2020]
+
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RASSELAS***
+</pre>
+<p>Transcribed from the 1889 Cassell &amp; Company edition by
+David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">
+<a href="images/coverb.jpg">
+<img alt=
+"Book cover"
+title=
+"Book cover"
+src="images/covers.jpg" />
+</a></p>
+<p style="text-align: center">CASSELL&rsquo;S NATIONAL
+LIBRARY.</p>
+<div class="gapshortline">&nbsp;</div>
+<h1><span class="smcap">Rasselas</span><br />
+<span class="GutSmall">PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA</span></h1>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span
+class="GutSmall">BY</span></p>
+<p style="text-align: center">SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">
+<a href="images/p0b.jpg">
+<img alt=
+"Decorative image"
+title=
+"Decorative image"
+src="images/p0s.jpg" />
+</a></p>
+<p style="text-align: center">CASSELL &amp; COMPANY, <span
+class="smcap">Limited</span>:<br />
+<span class="GutSmall">LONDON, PARIS &amp; MELBOURNE.</span><br
+/>
+1889.</p>
+<h2><a name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+5</span>INTRODUCTION.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Rasselas</span> was written by Samuel
+Johnson in the year 1759, when his age was fifty.&nbsp; He had
+written his <i>London</i> in 1738; his <i>Vanity of Human
+Wishes</i> in 1740; his <i>Rambler</i> between March, 1750, and
+March, 1752.&nbsp; In 1755 his <i>Dictionary</i> had appeared,
+and Dublin, by giving him its honorary LL.D., had enabled his
+friends to call him &ldquo;Doctor&rdquo; Johnson.&nbsp; His
+friends were many, and his honour among men was great.&nbsp; He
+owed them to his union of intellectual power with unflinching
+probity.&nbsp; But he had worked hard, battling against the wolf
+without, and the black dog within&mdash;poverty and
+hypochondria.&nbsp; He was still poor, though his personal wants
+did not exceed a hundred pounds a year.&nbsp; His wife had been
+seven years dead, and he missed her sorely.&nbsp; His old mother,
+who lived to the age of ninety, died poor in January of this
+year, 1759.&nbsp; In her old age, Johnson had sought to help her
+from his earnings.&nbsp; At her death there were some little
+debts, and there were costs of burial.&nbsp; That he might earn
+enough to pay them he wrote <i>Rasselas</i>.</p>
+<p><i>Rasselas</i> was written in the evenings of one week, and
+sent to press while being written.&nbsp; Johnson earned by it a
+hundred pounds, with <a name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+6</span>twenty-five pounds more for a second edition.&nbsp; It
+was published in March or April; Johnson never read it after it
+had been published until more than twenty years afterwards.&nbsp;
+Then, finding it in a chaise with Boswell, he took it up and read
+it eagerly.</p>
+<p>This is one of Johnson&rsquo;s letters to his mother, written
+after he knew that her last illness had come upon her.&nbsp; It
+is dated about ten days before her death.&nbsp; The
+&ldquo;Miss&rdquo; referred to in it was a faithful friend.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Miss&rdquo; was his home name for an affectionate
+step-daughter, Lucy Porter:&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote><p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Honoured
+Madam</span>,&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The account which Miss gives me of your health pierces
+my heart.&nbsp; God comfort and preserve you, and save you, for
+the sake of Jesus Christ.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I would have Miss read to you from time to time the
+Passion of our Saviour; and sometimes the sentences in the
+Communion Service beginning&mdash;&rsquo;Come unto me, all ye
+that travail and are heavy laden, and I will give you
+rest.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have just now read a physical book which inclines me
+to think that a strong infusion of the bark would do you
+good.&nbsp; Do, dear mother, try it.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Pray, send me your blessing, and forgive all that I
+have done amiss to you.&nbsp; And whatever you would have done,
+and what debts you would have paid first, or anything else that
+you would direct, let Miss put it down; I shall endeavour to obey
+you.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have got twelve guineas to send you&rdquo; [six were
+borrowed.&nbsp; There was a note in Johnson&rsquo;s Diary of six
+guineas repaid to Allen, the printer, who had lent them when he
+wanted to send money to his dying mother], &ldquo;but unhappily
+<a name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 7</span>am at a loss
+how to send it to-night.&nbsp; If I cannot send it to-night, it
+will come by the next post.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Pray, do not omit anything mentioned in this
+letter.&nbsp; God bless you for ever and ever.</p>
+<p style="text-align: right">&ldquo;I am,<br />
+&ldquo;Your dutiful Son,<br />
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Sam. Johnson</span>.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Jan.</i> 13, 1759.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>That is the personal side of the tale of
+<i>Rasselas</i>.&nbsp; In that way Johnson suddenly, on urgent
+pressure, carried out a design that had been in his mind.&nbsp;
+The success of Eastern tales, written as a form of moral essay,
+in the <i>Rambler</i> and <i>Adventurer</i>, upon suggestion, no
+doubt, of Addison&rsquo;s <i>Vision of Mirza</i>, had prompted
+him to express his view of life more fully than in essay form by
+way of Oriental apologue; and his early work on Father
+Lobo&rsquo;s Voyage to Abyssinia, caused him to choose Abyssinia
+for the land in which to lay his fable.</p>
+<p>But Johnson&rsquo;s <i>Rasselas</i> has also a close relation
+to the time when it was written, as Johnson himself had to the
+time in which he lived.&nbsp; From the beginning of the
+century&mdash;and especially, in England, since the beginning of
+the reign of George the Second&mdash;there had been a growing
+sense of the ills of life, associated in some minds with doubt
+whether there could be a just God ruling this unhappy
+world.&nbsp; Hard problems of humanity pressed more and more on
+earnest minds.&nbsp; The feeling expressed in Johnson&rsquo;s
+<i>Vanity of Human </i><a name="page8"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 8</span><i>Wishes</i> had deepened everywhere
+by the year 1759.&nbsp; This has intense expression in
+<i>Rasselas</i>, where all the joys of life, without active use
+of the energies of life, can give no joy; and where all uses of
+the energies of men are for the attainment of ideals worthless or
+delusive.&nbsp; This life was to Johnson, and to almost all the
+earnest thinkers of his time, unhappy in itself&mdash;a
+school-house where the rod was ever active.&nbsp; But in its
+unhappiness Johnson found no power that could overthrow his
+faith.&nbsp; To him this world was but a place of education for
+the happiness that would be to the faithful in the world to
+come.&nbsp; There was a great dread for him in the question, Who
+shall be found faithful?&nbsp; But there was no doubt in his mind
+that the happiness of man is to be found only beyond the
+grave.&nbsp; This was a feeling spread through Europe in the
+darkness gathering before the outburst of the storm of the great
+French Revolution.&nbsp; Even Gray, in his <i>Ode on a Distant
+Prospect of Eton College</i>, regarded Eton boys at their sports
+as &ldquo;little victims,&rdquo; unconscious of the doom of
+miseries awaiting them in life.&nbsp; Thus Johnson&rsquo;s
+<i>Rasselas</i> is a book doubly typical.&nbsp; We have in it the
+spirit of the writer when it best expressed the spirit of his
+time.</p>
+<p style="text-align: right">H. M.</p>
+<h2><a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>CHAPTER
+I<br />
+DESCRIPTION OF A PALACE IN A VALLEY.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Ye</span> who listen with credulity to the
+whispers of fancy, and pursue with eagerness the phantoms of
+hope; who expect that age will perform the promises of youth, and
+that the deficiencies of the present day will be supplied by the
+morrow, attend to the history of Rasselas, Prince of
+Abyssinia.</p>
+<p>Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty Emperor in whose
+dominions the father of waters begins his course&mdash;whose
+bounty pours down the streams of plenty, and scatters over the
+world the harvests of Egypt.</p>
+<p>According to the custom which has descended from age to age
+among the monarchs of the torrid zone, Rasselas was confined in a
+private palace, with the other sons and daughters of Abyssinian
+royalty, till the order of succession should call him to the
+throne.</p>
+<p>The place which the wisdom or policy of antiquity had destined
+for the residence of the Abyssinian princes was a spacious valley
+in the kingdom of Amhara, surrounded on every side by mountains,
+of which the summits overhang the middle part.&nbsp; The only
+passage by which it could be entered was a cavern that passed
+under a rock, of which it had long been disputed whether it was
+the work of nature or of human industry.&nbsp; The outlet of the
+cavern was concealed by a thick wood, and the mouth which opened
+into the valley was closed with gates of iron, forged by the
+artificers of ancient days, so massive that no man, without the
+help of engines, could open or shut them.</p>
+<p>From the mountains on every side rivulets descended that
+filled all the valley with verdure and fertility, and formed a
+lake in the middle, inhabited by fish of every species, and
+frequented by every fowl whom nature has taught to dip the wing
+in water.&nbsp; This lake discharged its superfluities by a
+stream, which entered a dark cleft of the mountain on the
+northern side, and fell with dreadful noise from precipice to
+precipice till it was heard no more.</p>
+<p>The sides of the mountains were covered with trees, the banks
+of the brooks were diversified with flowers; every blast shook
+spices from the rocks, and every month dropped fruits upon the
+ground.&nbsp; All animals that bite the grass or browse the
+shrubs, whether wild or tame, wandered in this extensive circuit,
+secured from beasts of prey by the mountains which confined
+them.&nbsp; On one part were flocks and herds feeding in the
+pastures, on another all the beasts of chase frisking in the
+lawns, the sprightly kid was bounding on the rocks, the subtle
+monkey frolicking in the trees, and the solemn elephant reposing
+in the shade.&nbsp; All the diversities of the world were brought
+together, the blessings of nature were collected, and its evils
+extracted and excluded.</p>
+<p>The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants with
+all the necessaries of life, and all delights and superfluities
+were added at the annual visit which the Emperor paid his
+children, when the iron gate was opened to the sound of music,
+and during eight days every one that resided in the valley was
+required to propose whatever might contribute to make seclusion
+pleasant, to fill up the vacancies of attention, and lessen the
+tediousness of time.&nbsp; Every desire was immediately
+granted.&nbsp; All the artificers of pleasure were called to
+gladden the festivity; the musicians exerted the power of
+harmony, and the dancers showed their activity before the
+princes, in hopes that they should pass their lives in blissful
+captivity, to which those only were admitted whose performance
+was thought able to add novelty to luxury.&nbsp; Such was the
+appearance of security and delight which this retirement
+afforded, that they to whom it was new always desired that it
+might be perpetual; and as those on whom the iron gate had once
+closed were never suffered to return, the effect of longer
+experience could not be known.&nbsp; Thus every year produced new
+scenes of delight, and new competitors for imprisonment.</p>
+<p>The palace stood on an eminence, raised about thirty paces
+above the surface of the lake.&nbsp; It was divided into many
+squares or courts, built with greater or less magnificence
+according to the rank of those for whom they were designed.&nbsp;
+The roofs were turned into arches of massive stone, joined by a
+cement that grew harder by time, and the building stood from
+century to century, deriding the solstitial rains and equinoctial
+hurricanes, without need of reparation.</p>
+<p>This house, which was so large as to be fully known to none
+but some ancient officers, who successively inherited the secrets
+of the place, was built as if Suspicion herself had dictated the
+plan.&nbsp; To every room there was an open and secret passage;
+every square had a communication with the rest, either from the
+upper storeys by private galleries, or by subterraneous passages
+from the lower apartments.&nbsp; Many of the columns had
+unsuspected cavities, in which a long race of monarchs had
+deposited their treasures.&nbsp; They then closed up the opening
+with marble, which was never to be removed but in the utmost
+exigences of the kingdom, and recorded their accumulations in a
+book, which was itself concealed in a tower, not entered but by
+the Emperor, attended by the prince who stood next in
+succession.</p>
+<h2><a name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+13</span>CHAPTER II<br />
+THE DISCONTENT OF RASSELAS IN THE HAPPY VALLEY.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Here</span> the sons and daughters of
+Abyssinia lived only to know the soft vicissitudes of pleasure
+and repose, attended by all that were skilful to delight, and
+gratified with whatever the senses can enjoy.&nbsp; They wandered
+in gardens of fragrance, and slept in the fortresses of
+security.&nbsp; Every art was practised to make them pleased with
+their own condition.&nbsp; The sages who instructed them told
+them of nothing but the miseries of public life, and described
+all beyond the mountains as regions of calamity, where discord
+was always racing, and where man preyed upon man.&nbsp; To
+heighten their opinion of their own felicity, they were daily
+entertained with songs, the subject of which was the Happy
+Valley.&nbsp; Their appetites were excited by frequent
+enumerations of different enjoyments, and revelry and merriment
+were the business of every hour, from the dawn of morning to the
+close of the evening.</p>
+<p>These methods were generally successful; few of the princes
+had ever wished to enlarge their bounds, but passed their lives
+in full conviction that they had all within their reach that art
+or nature could bestow, and pitied those whom nature had excluded
+from this seat of tranquillity as the sport of chance and the
+slaves of misery.</p>
+<p>Thus they rose in the morning and lay down at night, pleased
+with each other and with themselves, all but Rasselas, who, in
+the twenty-sixth year of his age, began to withdraw himself from
+the pastimes and assemblies, and to delight in solitary walks and
+silent meditation.&nbsp; He often sat before tables covered with
+luxury, and forgot to taste the dainties that were placed before
+him; he rose abruptly in the midst of the song, and hastily
+retired beyond the sound of music.&nbsp; His attendants observed
+the change, and endeavoured to renew his love of pleasure.&nbsp;
+He neglected their officiousness, repulsed their invitations, and
+spent day after day on the banks of rivulets sheltered with
+trees, where he sometimes listened to the birds in the branches,
+sometimes observed the fish playing in the streams, and anon cast
+his eyes upon the pastures and mountains filled with animals, of
+which some were biting the herbage, and some sleeping among the
+bushes.&nbsp; The singularity of his humour made him much
+observed.&nbsp; One of the sages, in whose conversation he had
+formerly delighted, followed him secretly, in hope of discovering
+the cause of his disquiet.&nbsp; Rasselas, who knew not that any
+one was near him, having for some time fixed his eyes upon the
+goats that were browsing among the rocks, began to compare their
+condition with his own.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;makes the difference
+between man and all the rest of the animal creation?&nbsp; Every
+beast that strays beside me has the same corporal necessities
+with myself: he is hungry, and crops the grass; he is thirsty,
+and drinks the stream; his thirst and hunger are appeased; he is
+satisfied, and sleeps; he rises again, and is hungry; he is again
+fed, and is at rest.&nbsp; I am hungry and thirsty, like him, but
+when thirst and hunger cease, I am not at rest.&nbsp; I am, like
+him, pained with want, but am not, like him, satisfied with
+fulness.&nbsp; The intermediate hours are tedious and gloomy; I
+long again to be hungry that I may again quicken the
+attention.&nbsp; The birds peck the berries or the corn, and fly
+away to the groves, where they sit in seeming happiness on the
+branches, and waste their lives in tuning one unvaried series of
+sounds.&nbsp; I likewise can call the lutist and the singer; but
+the sounds that pleased me yesterday weary me to-day, and will
+grow yet more wearisome to-morrow.&nbsp; I can discover in me no
+power of perception which is not glutted with its proper
+pleasure, yet I do not feel myself delighted.&nbsp; Man surely
+has some latent sense for which this place affords no
+gratification; or he has some desire distinct from sense, which
+must be satisfied before he can be happy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>After this he lifted up his head, and seeing the moon rising,
+walked towards the palace.&nbsp; As he passed through the fields,
+and saw the animals around him, &ldquo;Ye,&rdquo; said he,
+&ldquo;are happy, and need not envy me that walk thus among you,
+burdened with myself; nor do I, ye gentle beings, envy your
+felicity; for it is not the felicity of man.&nbsp; I have many
+distresses from which you are free; I fear pain when I do not
+feel it; I sometimes shrink at evils recollected, and sometimes
+start at evils anticipated: surely the equity of Providence has
+balanced peculiar sufferings with peculiar enjoyments.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>With observations like these the Prince amused himself as he
+returned, uttering them with a plaintive voice, yet with a look
+that discovered him to feel some complacence in his own
+perspicacity, and to receive some solace of the miseries of life
+from consciousness of the delicacy with which he felt and the
+eloquence with which he bewailed them.&nbsp; He mingled
+cheerfully in the diversions of the evening, and all rejoiced to
+find that his heart was lightened.</p>
+<h2><a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+17</span>CHAPTER III<br />
+THE WANTS OF HIM THAT WANTS NOTHING.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the next day, his old
+instructor, imagining that he had now made himself acquainted
+with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing it by counsel,
+and officiously sought an opportunity of conference, which the
+Prince, having long considered him as one whose intellects were
+exhausted, was not very willing to afford.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;does this man thus intrude
+upon me?&nbsp; Shall I never be suffered to forget these
+lectures, which pleased only while they were new, and to become
+new again must be forgotten?&rdquo;&nbsp; He then walked into the
+wood, and composed himself to his usual meditations; when, before
+his thoughts had taken any settled form, he perceived his pursuer
+at his side, and was at first prompted by his impatience to go
+hastily away; but being unwilling to offend a man whom he had
+once reverenced and still loved, he invited him to sit down with
+him on the bank.</p>
+<p>The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change which
+had been lately observed in the Prince, and to inquire why he so
+often retired from the pleasures of the palace to loneliness and
+silence.&nbsp; &ldquo;I fly from pleasure,&rdquo; said the
+Prince, &ldquo;because pleasure has ceased to please: I am lonely
+because I am miserable, and am unwilling to cloud with my
+presence the happiness of others.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;You,
+sir,&rdquo; said the sage, &ldquo;are the first who has
+complained of misery in the Happy Valley.&nbsp; I hope to
+convince you that your complaints have no real cause.&nbsp; You
+are here in full possession of all the Emperor of Abyssinia can
+bestow; here is neither labour to be endured nor danger to be
+dreaded, yet here is all that labour or danger can procure or
+purchase.&nbsp; Look round and tell me which of your wants is
+without supply: if you want nothing, how are you
+unhappy?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That I want nothing,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;or
+that I know not what I want, is the cause of my complaint: if I
+had any known want, I should have a certain wish; that wish would
+excite endeavour, and I should not then repine to see the sun
+move so slowly towards the western mountains, or to lament when
+the day breaks, and sleep will no longer hide me from
+myself.&nbsp; When I see the kids and the lambs chasing one
+another, I fancy that I should be happy if I had something to
+pursue.&nbsp; But, possessing all that I can want, I find one day
+and one hour exactly like another, except that the latter is
+still more tedious than the former.&nbsp; Let your experience
+inform me how the day may now seem as short as in my childhood,
+while nature was yet fresh, and every moment showed me what I
+never had observed before.&nbsp; I have already enjoyed too much:
+give me something to desire.&rdquo;&nbsp; The old man was
+surprised at this new species of affliction, and knew not what to
+reply, yet was unwilling to be silent.&nbsp; &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;if you had seen the miseries of the world, you
+would know how to value your present state.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Now,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;you have given me
+something to desire.&nbsp; I shall long to see the miseries of
+the world, since the sight of them is necessary to
+happiness.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+20</span>CHAPTER IV<br />
+THE PRINCE CONTINUES TO GRIEVE AND MUSE.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">At</span> this time the sound of music
+proclaimed the hour of repast, and the conversation was
+concluded.&nbsp; The old man went away sufficiently discontented
+to find that his reasonings had produced the only conclusion
+which they were intended to prevent.&nbsp; But in the decline of
+life, shame and grief are of short duration: whether it be that
+we bear easily what we have borne long; or that, finding
+ourselves in age less regarded, we less regard others; or that we
+look with slight regard upon afflictions to which we know that
+the hand of death is about to put an end.</p>
+<p>The Prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could
+not speedily quiet his emotions.&nbsp; He had been before
+terrified at the length of life which nature promised him,
+because he considered that in a long time much must be endured:
+he now rejoiced in his youth, because in many years much might be
+done.&nbsp; The first beam of hope that had been ever darted into
+his mind rekindled youth in his cheeks, and doubled the lustre of
+his eyes.&nbsp; He was fired with the desire of doing something,
+though he knew not yet, with distinctness, either end or
+means.&nbsp; He was now no longer gloomy and unsocial; but
+considering himself as master of a secret stock of happiness,
+which he could only enjoy by concealing it, he affected to be
+busy in all the schemes of diversion, and endeavoured to make
+others pleased with the state of which he himself was
+weary.&nbsp; But pleasures can never be so multiplied or
+continued as not to leave much of life unemployed; there were
+many hours, both of the night and day, which he could spend
+without suspicion in solitary thought.&nbsp; The load of life was
+much lightened; he went eagerly into the assemblies, because he
+supposed the frequency of his presence necessary to the success
+of his purposes; he retired gladly to privacy, because he had now
+a subject of thought.&nbsp; His chief amusement was to picture to
+himself that world which he had never seen, to place himself in
+various conditions, to be entangled in imaginary difficulties,
+and to be engaged in wild adventures; but, his benevolence always
+terminated his projects in the relief of distress, the detection
+of fraud, the defeat of oppression, and the diffusion of
+happiness.</p>
+<p>Thus passed twenty months of the life of Rasselas.&nbsp; He
+busied himself so intensely in visionary bustle that he forgot
+his real solitude; and amidst hourly preparations for the various
+incidents of human affairs, neglected to consider by what means
+he should mingle with mankind.</p>
+<p>One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself an
+orphan virgin robbed of her little portion by a treacherous
+lover, and crying after him for restitution.&nbsp; So strongly
+was the image impressed upon his mind that he started up in the
+maid&rsquo;s defence, and ran forward to seize the plunderer with
+all the eagerness of real pursuit.&nbsp; Fear naturally quickens
+the flight of guilt.&nbsp; Rasselas could not catch the fugitive
+with his utmost efforts; but, resolving to weary by perseverance
+him whom he could not surpass in speed, he pressed on till the
+foot of the mountain stopped his course.</p>
+<p>Here he recollected himself, and smiled at his own useless
+impetuosity.&nbsp; Then raising his eyes to the mountain,
+&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is the fatal obstacle that
+hinders at once the enjoyment of pleasure and the exercise of
+virtue.&nbsp; How long is it that my hopes and wishes have flown
+beyond this boundary of my life, which yet I never have attempted
+to surmount?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Struck with this reflection, he sat down to muse, and
+remembered that since he first resolved to escape from his
+confinement, the sun had passed twice over him in his annual
+course.&nbsp; He now felt a degree of regret with which he had
+never been before acquainted.&nbsp; He considered how much might
+have been done in the time which had passed, and left nothing
+real behind it.&nbsp; He compared twenty months with the life of
+man.&nbsp; &ldquo;In life,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is not to be
+counted the ignorance of infancy or imbecility of age.&nbsp; We
+are long before we are able to think, and we soon cease from the
+power of acting.&nbsp; The true period of human existence may be
+reasonably estimated at forty years, of which I have mused away
+the four-and-twentieth part.&nbsp; What I have lost was certain,
+for I have certainly possessed it; but of twenty months to come,
+who can assure me?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The consciousness of his own folly pierced him deeply, and he
+was long before he could be reconciled to himself.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;The rest of my time,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;has been lost
+by the crime or folly of my ancestors, and the absurd
+institutions of my country; I remember it with disgust, yet
+without remorse: but the months that have passed since new light
+darted into my soul, since I formed a scheme of reasonable
+felicity, have been squandered by my own fault.&nbsp; I have lost
+that which can never be restored; I have seen the sun rise and
+set for twenty months, an idle gazer on the light of heaven; in
+this time the birds have left the nest of their mother, and
+committed themselves to the woods and to the skies; the kid has
+forsaken the teat, and learned by degrees to climb the rocks in
+quest of independent sustenance.&nbsp; I only have made no
+advances, but am still helpless and ignorant.&nbsp; The moon, by
+more than twenty changes, admonished me of the flux of life; the
+stream that rolled before my feet upbraided my inactivity.&nbsp;
+I sat feasting on intellectual luxury, regardless alike of the
+examples of the earth and the instructions of the planets.&nbsp;
+Twenty months are passed: who shall restore them?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>These sorrowful meditations fastened upon his mind; he passed
+four months in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves,
+and was awakened to more vigorous exertion by hearing a maid, who
+had broken a porcelain cup, remark that what cannot be repaired
+is not to be regretted.</p>
+<p><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 25</span>This
+was obvious; and Rasselas reproached himself that he had not
+discovered it&mdash;having not known, or not considered, how many
+useful hints are obtained by chance, and how often the mind,
+hurried by her own ardour to distant views, neglects the truths
+that lie open before her.&nbsp; He for a few hours regretted his
+regret, and from that time bent his whole mind upon the means of
+escaping from the Valley of Happiness.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER V<br />
+THE PRINCE MEDITATES HIS ESCAPE.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">He</span> now found that it would be very
+difficult to effect that which it was very easy to suppose
+effected.&nbsp; When he looked round about him, he saw himself
+confined by the bars of nature, which had never yet been broken,
+and by the gate through which none that had once passed it were
+ever able to return.&nbsp; He was now impatient as an eagle in a
+grate.&nbsp; He passed week after week in clambering the
+mountains to see if there was any aperture which the bushes might
+conceal, but found all the summits inaccessible by their
+prominence.&nbsp; The iron gate he despaired to open for it was
+not only secured with all the power of art, but was always
+watched by successive sentinels, and was, by its position,
+exposed to the perpetual observation of all the inhabitants.</p>
+<p>He then examined the cavern through which the waters of the
+lake were discharged; and, looking down at a time when the sun
+shone strongly upon its mouth, he discovered it to be full of
+broken rocks, which, though they permitted the stream to flow
+through many narrow passages, would stop any body of solid
+bulk.&nbsp; He returned discouraged and dejected; but having now
+known the blessing of hope, resolved never to despair.</p>
+<p>In these fruitless researches he spent ten months.&nbsp; The
+time, however, passed cheerfully away&mdash;in the morning he
+rose with new hope; in the evening applauded his own diligence;
+and in the night slept soundly after his fatigue.&nbsp; He met a
+thousand amusements, which beguiled his labour and diversified
+his thoughts.&nbsp; He discerned the various instincts of animals
+and properties of plants, and found the place replete with
+wonders, of which he proposed to solace himself with the
+contemplation if he should never be able to accomplish his
+flight&mdash;rejoicing that his endeavours, though yet
+unsuccessful, had supplied him with a source of inexhaustible
+inquiry.&nbsp; <a name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+27</span>But his original curiosity was not yet abated; he
+resolved to obtain some knowledge of the ways of men.&nbsp; His
+wish still continued, but his hope grew less.&nbsp; He ceased to
+survey any longer the walls of his prison, and spared to search
+by new toils for interstices which he knew could not be found,
+yet determined to keep his design always in view, and lay hold on
+any expedient that time should offer.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI<br />
+A DISSERTATION ON THE ART OF FLYING.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Among</span> the artists that had been
+allured into the Happy Valley, to labour for the accommodation
+and pleasure of its inhabitants, was a man eminent for his
+knowledge of the mechanic powers, who had contrived many engines
+both of use and recreation.&nbsp; By a wheel which the stream
+turned he forced the water into a tower, whence it was
+distributed to all the apartments of the palace.&nbsp; He erected
+a pavilion in the garden, around which he kept the air always
+cool by artificial showers.&nbsp; One of the groves, appropriated
+to the ladies, was ventilated by fans, to which the rivulets that
+ran through it gave a constant motion; and instruments of soft
+music were played at proper distances, of which some played by
+the impulse of the wind, and some by the power of the stream.</p>
+<p>This artist was sometimes visited by Rasselas who was pleased
+with every kind of knowledge, imagining that the time would come
+when all his acquisitions should be of use to him in the open
+world.&nbsp; He came one day to amuse himself in his usual
+manner, and found the master busy in building a sailing
+chariot.&nbsp; He saw that the design was practicable upon a
+level surface, and with expressions of great esteem solicited its
+completion.&nbsp; The workman was pleased to find himself so much
+regarded by the Prince, and resolved to gain yet higher
+honours.&nbsp; &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you have seen
+but a small part of what the mechanic sciences can perform.&nbsp;
+I have been long of opinion that, instead of the tardy conveyance
+of ships and chariots, man might use the swifter migration of
+wings, that the fields of air are open to knowledge, and that
+only ignorance and idleness need crawl upon the
+ground.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>This hint rekindled the Prince&rsquo;s desire of passing the
+mountains.&nbsp; Having seen what the mechanist had already
+performed, he was willing to fancy that he could do more, yet
+resolved to inquire further before he suffered hope to afflict
+him by disappointment.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; said he
+to the artist, &ldquo;that your imagination prevails over your
+skill, and that you now tell me rather what you wish than what
+you know.&nbsp; Every animal has his element assigned him; the
+birds have the air, and man and beasts the earth.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;So,&rdquo; replied the mechanist, &ldquo;fishes have the
+water, in which yet beasts can swim by nature and man by
+art.&nbsp; He that can swim needs not despair to fly; to swim is
+to fly in a grosser fluid, and to fly is to swim in a
+subtler.&nbsp; We are only to proportion our power of resistance
+to the different density of matter through which we are to
+pass.&nbsp; You will be necessarily up-borne by the air if you
+can renew any impulse upon it faster than the air can recede from
+the pressure.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But the exercise of swimming,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;is very laborious; the strongest limbs are soon
+wearied.&nbsp; I am afraid the act of flying will be yet more
+violent; and wings will be of no great use unless we can fly
+further than we can swim.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The labour of rising from the ground,&rdquo; said the
+artist, &ldquo;will be great, as we see it in the heavier
+domestic fowls; but as we mount higher the earth&rsquo;s
+attraction and the body&rsquo;s gravity will be gradually
+diminished, till we shall arrive at a region where the man shall
+float in the air without any tendency to fall; no care will then
+be necessary but to move forward, which the gentlest impulse will
+effect.&nbsp; You, sir, whose curiosity is so extensive, will
+easily conceive with what pleasure a philosopher, furnished with
+wings and hovering in the sky, would see the earth and all its
+inhabitants rolling beneath him, and presenting to him
+successively, by its diurnal motion, all the countries within the
+same parallel.&nbsp; How must it amuse the pendent spectator to
+see the moving scene of land and ocean, cities and deserts; to
+survey with equal security the marts of trade and the fields of
+battle; mountains infested by barbarians, and fruitful regions
+gladdened by plenty and lulled by peace.&nbsp; How easily shall
+we then trace the Nile through all his passages, pass over to
+distant regions, and examine the face of nature from one
+extremity of the earth to the other.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;All this,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;is much to be
+desired, but I am afraid that no man will be able to breathe in
+these regions of speculation and tranquillity.&nbsp; I have been
+told that respiration is difficult upon lofty mountains, yet from
+these precipices, though so high as to produce great tenuity of
+air, it is very easy to fall; therefore I suspect that from any
+height where life can be supported, there may be danger of too
+quick descent.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; replied the artist, &ldquo;will ever be
+attempted if all possible objections must be first
+overcome.&nbsp; If you will favour my project, I will try the
+first flight at my own hazard.&nbsp; I have considered the
+structure of all volant animals, and find the folding continuity
+of the bat&rsquo;s wings most easily accommodated to the human
+form.&nbsp; Upon this model I shall begin my task to-morrow, and
+in a year expect to tower into the air beyond the malice and
+pursuit of man.&nbsp; But I will work only on this condition,
+that the art shall not be divulged, and that you shall not
+require me to make wings for any but ourselves.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;should you envy
+others so great an advantage?&nbsp; All skill ought to be exerted
+for universal good; every man has owed much to others, and ought
+to repay the kindness that he has received.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If men were all virtuous,&rdquo; returned the artist,
+&ldquo;I should with great alacrity teach them to fly.&nbsp; But
+what would be the security of the good if the bad could at
+pleasure invade them from the sky?&nbsp; Against an army sailing
+through the clouds neither walls, mountains, nor seas could
+afford security.&nbsp; A flight of northern savages might hover
+in the wind and light with irresistible violence upon the capital
+of a fruitful reason.&nbsp; Even this valley, the retreat of
+princes, the abode of happiness, might be violated by the sudden
+descent of some of the naked nations that swarm on the coast of
+the southern sea!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Prince promised secrecy, and waited for the performance,
+not wholly hopeless of success.&nbsp; He visited the work from
+time to time, observed its progress, and remarked many ingenious
+contrivances to facilitate motion and unite levity with
+strength.&nbsp; The artist was every day more certain that he
+should leave vultures and eagles behind him, and the contagion of
+his confidence seized upon the Prince.&nbsp; In a year the wings
+were finished; and on a morning appointed the maker appeared,
+furnished for flight, on a little promontory; he waved his
+pinions awhile to gather air, then leaped from his stand, and in
+an instant dropped into the lake.&nbsp; His wings, which were of
+no use in the air, sustained him in the water; and the Prince
+drew him to land half dead with terror and vexation.</p>
+<h2><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+33</span>CHAPTER VII<br />
+THE PRINCE FINDS A MAN OF LEARNING.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Prince was not much afflicted
+by this disaster, having suffered himself to hope for a happier
+event only because he had no other means of escape in view.&nbsp;
+He still persisted in his design to leave the Happy Valley by the
+first opportunity.</p>
+<p>His imagination was now at a stand; he had no prospect of
+entering into the world, and, notwithstanding all his endeavours
+to support himself, discontent by degrees preyed upon him, and he
+began again to lose his thoughts in sadness when the rainy
+season, which in these countries is periodical, made it
+inconvenient to wander in the woods.</p>
+<p>The rain continued longer and with more violence than had ever
+been known; the clouds broke on the surrounding mountains, and
+the torrents streamed into the plain on every side, till the
+cavern was too narrow to discharge the water.&nbsp; The lake
+overflowed its banks, and all the level of the valley was covered
+with the inundation.&nbsp; The eminence on which the palace was
+built, and some other spots of rising ground, were all that the
+eye could now discover.&nbsp; The herds and flocks left the
+pasture, and both the wild beasts and the tame retreated to the
+mountains.</p>
+<p>This inundation confined all the princes to domestic
+amusements, and the attention of Rasselas was particularly seized
+by a poem (which Imlac rehearsed) upon the various conditions of
+humanity.&nbsp; He commanded the poet to attend him in his
+apartment, and recite his verses a second time; then entering
+into familiar talk, he thought himself happy in having found a
+man who knew the world so well, and could so skilfully paint the
+scenes of life.&nbsp; He asked a thousand questions about things
+to which, though common to all other mortals, his confinement
+from childhood had kept him a stranger.&nbsp; The poet pitied his
+ignorance, and loved his curiosity, and entertained him from day
+to day with novelty and instruction so that the Prince regretted
+the necessity of sleep, and longed till the morning should renew
+his pleasure.</p>
+<p>As they were sitting together, the Prince commanded Imlac to
+relate his history, and to tell by what accident he was forced,
+or by what motive induced, to close his life in the Happy
+Valley.&nbsp; As he was going to begin his narrative, Rasselas
+was called to a concert, and obliged to restrain his curiosity
+till the evening.</p>
+<h2><a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+35</span>CHAPTER VIII<br />
+THE HISTORY OF IMLAC.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> close of the day is, in the
+regions of the torrid zone, the only season of diversion and
+entertainment, and it was therefore midnight before the music
+ceased and the princesses retired.&nbsp; Rasselas then called for
+his companion, and required him to begin the story of his
+life.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;my history will not be
+long: the life that is devoted to knowledge passes silently away,
+and is very little diversified by events.&nbsp; To talk in
+public, to think in solitude, to read and to hear, to inquire and
+answer inquiries, is the business of a scholar.&nbsp; He wanders
+about the world without pomp or terror, and is neither known nor
+valued but by men like himself.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I was born in the kingdom of Goiama, at no great
+distance from the fountain of the Nile.&nbsp; My father was a
+wealthy merchant, who traded between the inland countries of
+Africa and the ports of the Red Sea.&nbsp; He was honest, frugal,
+and diligent, but of mean sentiments and narrow comprehension; he
+desired only to be rich, and to conceal his riches, lest he
+should be spoiled by the governors of the province.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;my father must
+be negligent of his charge if any man in his dominions dares take
+that which belongs to another.&nbsp; Does he not know that kings
+are accountable for injustice permitted as well as done?&nbsp; If
+I were Emperor, not the meanest of my subjects should be
+oppressed with impunity.&nbsp; My blood boils when I am told that
+a merchant durst not enjoy his honest gains for fear of losing
+them by the rapacity of power.&nbsp; Name the governor who robbed
+the people that I may declare his crimes to the
+Emperor!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;your ardour is the
+natural effect of virtue animated by youth.&nbsp; The time will
+come when you will acquit your father, and perhaps hear with less
+impatience of the governor.&nbsp; Oppression is, in the
+Abyssinian dominions, neither frequent nor tolerated; but no form
+of government has been yet discovered by which cruelty can be
+wholly prevented.&nbsp; Subordination supposes power on one part
+and subjection on the other; and if power be in the hands of men
+it will sometimes be abused.&nbsp; The vigilance of the supreme
+magistrate may do much, but much will still remain undone.&nbsp;
+He can never know all the crimes that are committed, and can
+seldom punish all that he knows.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;I do not
+understand; but I had rather hear thee than dispute.&nbsp;
+Continue thy narration.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My father,&rdquo; proceeded Imlac, &ldquo;originally
+intended that I should have no other education than such as might
+qualify me for commerce; and discovering in me great strength of
+memory and quickness of apprehension, often declared his hope
+that I should be some time the richest man in
+Abyssinia.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;did thy father
+desire the increase of his wealth when it was already greater
+than he durst discover or enjoy?&nbsp; I am unwilling to doubt
+thy veracity, yet inconsistencies cannot both be true.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Inconsistencies,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;cannot
+both be right; but, imputed to man, they may both be true.&nbsp;
+Yet diversity is not inconsistency.&nbsp; My father might expect
+a time of greater security.&nbsp; However, some desire is
+necessary to keep life in motion; and he whose real wants are
+supplied must admit those of fancy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;I can in some
+measure conceive.&nbsp; I repent that I interrupted
+thee.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;With this hope,&rdquo; proceeded Imlac, &ldquo;he sent
+me to school.&nbsp; But when I had once found the delight of
+knowledge, and felt the pleasure of intelligence and the pride of
+invention, I began silently to despise riches, and determined to
+disappoint the purposes of my father, whose grossness of
+conception raised my pity.&nbsp; I was twenty years old before
+his tenderness would expose me to the fatigue of travel; in which
+time I had been instructed, by successive masters, in all the
+literature of my native country.&nbsp; As every hour taught me
+something new, I lived in a continual course of gratification;
+but as I advanced towards manhood, I lost much of the reverence
+with which I had been used to look on my instructors; because
+when the lessons were ended I did not find them wiser or better
+than common men.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;At length my father resolved to initiate me in
+commerce; and, opening one of his subterranean treasuries,
+counted out ten thousand pieces of gold.&nbsp; &lsquo;This, young
+man,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;is the stock with which you must
+negotiate.&nbsp; I began with less than a fifth part, and you see
+how diligence and parsimony have increased it.&nbsp; This is your
+own, to waste or improve.&nbsp; If you squander it by negligence
+or caprice, you must wait for my death before you will be rich;
+if in four years you double your stock, we will thenceforward let
+subordination cease, and live together as friends and partners,
+for he shall be always equal with me who is equally skilled in
+the art of growing rich.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We laid out our money upon camels, concealed in bales
+of cheap goods, and travelled to the shore of the Red Sea.&nbsp;
+When I cast my eye on the expanse of waters, my heart bounded
+like that of a prisoner escaped.&nbsp; I felt an inextinguishable
+curiosity kindle in my mind, and resolved to snatch this
+opportunity of seeing the manners of other nations, and of
+learning sciences unknown in Abyssinia.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I remembered that my father had obliged me to the
+improvement of my stock, not by a promise, which I ought not to
+violate, but by a penalty, which I was at liberty to incur; and
+therefore determined to gratify my predominant desire, and, by
+drinking at the fountain of knowledge, to quench the thirst of
+curiosity.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;As I was supposed to trade without connection with my
+father, it was easy for me to become acquainted with the master
+of a ship, and procure a passage to some other country.&nbsp; I
+had no motives of choice to regulate my voyage.&nbsp; It was
+sufficient <a name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+40</span>for me that, wherever I wandered, I should see a country
+which I had not seen before.&nbsp; I therefore entered a ship
+bound for Surat, having left a letter for my father declaring my
+intention.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX<br />
+THE HISTORY OF IMLAC (<i>continued</i>).</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">When</span> I first entered upon
+the world of waters, and lost sight of land, I looked round about
+me in pleasing terror, and thinking my soul enlarged by the
+boundless prospect, imagined that I could gaze around me for ever
+without satiety; but in a short time I grew weary of looking on
+barren uniformity, where I could only see again what I had
+already seen.&nbsp; I then descended into the ship, and doubted
+for awhile whether all my future pleasures would not end, like
+this, in disgust and disappointment.&nbsp; &lsquo;Yet
+surely,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;the ocean and the land are very
+different.&nbsp; The only variety of water is rest and
+motion.&nbsp; But the earth has mountains and valleys, deserts
+and cities; it is inhabited by men of different customs and
+contrary opinions; and I may hope to find variety in life, though
+I should miss it in nature.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;With this thought I quieted my mind, and amused myself
+during the voyage, sometimes by learning from the sailors the art
+of navigation, which I have never practised, and sometimes by
+forming schemes for my conduct in different situations, in not
+one of which I have been ever placed.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I was almost weary of my naval amusements when we
+safely landed at Surat.&nbsp; I secured my money and, purchasing
+some commodities for show, joined myself to a caravan that was
+passing into the inland country.&nbsp; My companions, for some
+reason or other, conjecturing that I was rich, and, by my
+inquiries and admiration, finding that I was ignorant, considered
+me as a novice whom they had a right to cheat, and who was to
+learn, at the usual expense, the art of fraud.&nbsp; They exposed
+me to the theft of servants and the exaction of officers, and saw
+me plundered upon false pretences, without any advantage to
+themselves but that of rejoicing in the superiority of their own
+knowledge.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Stop a moment,&rdquo; said the Prince; &ldquo;is there
+such depravity in man as that he should injure another without
+benefit to himself?&nbsp; I can easily conceive that all are
+pleased with superiority; but your ignorance was merely
+accidental, which, being neither your crime nor your folly, could
+afford them no reason to applaud themselves; and the knowledge
+which they had, and which you wanted, they might as effectually
+have shown by warning as betraying you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Pride,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is seldom delicate; it
+will please itself with very mean advantages, and envy feels not
+its own happiness but when it may be compared with the misery of
+others.&nbsp; They were my enemies because they grieved to think
+me rich, and my oppressors because they delighted to find me
+weak.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Proceed,&rdquo; said the Prince; &ldquo;I doubt not of
+the facts which you relate, but imagine that you impute them to
+mistaken motives.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In this company,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;I arrived at
+Agra, the capital of Hindostan, the city in which the Great Mogul
+commonly resides.&nbsp; I applied myself to the language of the
+country, and in a few months was able to converse with the
+learned men; some of whom I found morose and reserved, and others
+easy and communicative; some were unwilling to teach another what
+they had with difficulty learned themselves; and some showed that
+the end of their studies was to gain the dignity of
+instructing.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To the tutor of the young princes I recommended myself
+so much that I was presented to the Emperor as a man of uncommon
+knowledge.&nbsp; The Emperor asked me many questions concerning
+my country and my travels, and though I cannot now recollect
+anything that he uttered above the power of a common man, he
+dismissed me astonished at his wisdom and enamoured of his
+goodness.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My credit was now so high that the merchants with whom
+I had travelled applied to me for recommendations to the ladies
+of the Court.&nbsp; I was surprised at their confidence of
+solicitation and greatly reproached them with their practices on
+the road.&nbsp; They heard me with cold indifference, and showed
+no tokens of shame or sorrow.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;They then urged their request with the offer of a
+bribe, but what I would not do for kindness I would not do for
+money, and refused them, not because they had injured me, but
+because I would not enable them to injure others; for I knew they
+would have made use of my credit to cheat those who should buy
+their wares.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Having resided at Agra till there was no more to be
+learned, I travelled into Persia, where I saw many remains of
+ancient magnificence and observed many new accommodations of
+life.&nbsp; The Persians <a name="page44"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 44</span>are a nation eminently social, and
+their assemblies afforded me daily opportunities of remarking
+characters and manners, and of tracing human nature through all
+its variations.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;From Persia I passed into Arabia, where I saw a nation
+pastoral and warlike, who lived without any settled habitation,
+whose wealth is their flocks and herds, and who have carried on
+through ages an hereditary war with mankind, though they neither
+covet nor envy their possessions.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER X<br />
+IMLAC&rsquo;S HISTORY (<i>continued</i>)&mdash;A DISSERTATION
+UPON POETRY.</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Wherever</span> I went I found that
+poetry was considered as the highest learning, and regarded with
+a veneration somewhat approaching to that which man would pay to
+angelic nature.&nbsp; And yet it fills me with wonder that in
+almost all countries the most ancient poets are considered as the
+best; whether it be that every other kind of knowledge is an
+acquisition greatly attained, and poetry is a gift conferred at
+once; or that the first poetry of every nation surprised them as
+a novelty, and retained the credit by consent which it received
+by accident at first; or whether, as the province of poetry is to
+describe nature and passion, which are always the same, the first
+writers took possession of the most striking objects for
+description and the most probable occurrences for fiction, and
+left nothing to those that followed them but transcription of the
+same events and new combinations of the same images.&nbsp;
+Whatever be the reason, it is commonly observed that the early
+writers are in possession of nature, and their followers of art;
+that the first excel in strength and invention, and the latter in
+elegance and refinement.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I was desirous to add my name to this illustrious
+fraternity.&nbsp; I read all the poets of Persia and Arabia, and
+was able to repeat by memory the volumes that are suspended in
+the mosque of Mecca.&nbsp; But I soon found that no man was ever
+great by imitations.&nbsp; My desire of excellence impelled me to
+transfer my attention to nature and to life.&nbsp; Nature was to
+be my subject, and men to be my auditors.&nbsp; I could never
+describe what I had not seen.&nbsp; I could not hope to move
+those with delight or terror whose interests and opinions I did
+not understand.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Being now resolved to be a poet, I saw everything with
+a new purpose; my sphere of attention was suddenly magnified; no
+kind of knowledge was to be overlooked.&nbsp; I ranged mountains
+and deserts for images and resemblances, and pictured upon my
+mind every tree of the forest and flower of the valley.&nbsp; I
+observed with equal care the crags of the rock and the pinnacles
+of the palace.&nbsp; Sometimes I wandered along the mazes of the
+rivulet, and sometimes watched the changes of the summer
+clouds.&nbsp; To a poet nothing can be useless.&nbsp; Whatever is
+beautiful and whatever is dreadful must be familiar to his
+imagination; he must be conversant with all that is awfully vast
+or elegantly little.&nbsp; The plants of the garden, the animals
+of the wood, the minerals of the earth, and meteors of the sky,
+must all concur to store his mind with inexhaustible variety; for
+every idea is useful for the enforcement or decoration of moral
+or religious truth, and he who knows most will have most power of
+diversifying his scenes and of gratifying his reader with remote
+allusions and unexpected instruction.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;All the appearances of nature I was therefore careful
+to study, and every country which I have surveyed has contributed
+something to my poetical powers.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In so wide a survey,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;you
+must surely have left much unobserved.&nbsp; I have lived till
+now within the circuit of the mountains, and yet cannot walk
+abroad without the sight of something which I had never beheld
+before, or never heeded.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This business of a poet,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is
+to examine, not the individual, but the species; to remark
+general properties and large appearances.&nbsp; He does not
+number the streaks of the tulip, or describe the different shades
+of the verdure of the forest.&nbsp; He is to exhibit in his
+portraits of nature such prominent and striking features as
+recall the original to every mind, and must neglect the minuter
+discriminations, which one may have remarked and another have
+neglected, for those characteristics which are alike obvious to
+vigilance and carelessness.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But the knowledge of nature is only half the task of a
+poet; he must be acquainted likewise with all the modes of
+life.&nbsp; His character requires that he estimate the happiness
+and misery of every condition, observe the power of all the
+passions in all their combinations, and trace the changes of the
+human mind, as they are modified by various institutions and
+accidental influences of climate or custom, from the
+sprightliness of infancy to the despondence of decrepitude.&nbsp;
+He must divest himself of the prejudices of his age and country;
+he must consider right and wrong in their abstracted and
+invariable state; he must disregard present laws and opinions,
+and rise to general and transcendental truths, which will always
+be the same.&nbsp; He must, therefore, content himself with the
+slow progress of his name, contemn the praise of his own time,
+and commit his claims to the justice of posterity.&nbsp; He must
+write as the interpreter of nature and the legislator of mankind,
+and consider himself as presiding over the thoughts and manners
+of future generations, as a being superior to time and place.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;His labour is not yet at an end.&nbsp; He must know
+many languages and many sciences, and, that his style may be
+worthy of his thoughts, must by incessant practice familiarise to
+himself every delicacy of speech and grace of harmony.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+49</span>CHAPTER XI<br />
+IMLAC&rsquo;S NARRATIVE (<i>continued</i>)&mdash;A HINT OF
+PILGRIMAGE.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Imlac</span> now felt the enthusiastic
+fit, and was proceeding to aggrandise his own profession, when
+then Prince cried out: &ldquo;Enough! thou hast convinced me that
+no human being can ever be a poet.&nbsp; Proceed with thy
+narration.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To be a poet,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is indeed very
+difficult.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;So difficult,&rdquo; returned the Prince, &ldquo;that I
+will at present hear no more of his labours.&nbsp; Tell me
+whither you went when you had seen Persia.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;From Persia,&rdquo; said the poet, &ldquo;I travelled
+through Syria, and for three years resided in Palestine, where I
+conversed with great numbers of the northern and western nations
+of Europe, the nations which are now in possession of all power
+and all knowledge, whose armies are irresistible, and whose
+fleets command the remotest parts of the globe.&nbsp; When I
+compared these men with the natives of our own kingdom and those
+that surround us, they appeared almost another order of
+beings.&nbsp; In their countries it is difficult to wish for
+anything that may not be obtained; a thousand arts, of which we
+never heard, are continually labouring for their convenience and
+pleasure, and whatever their own climate has denied them is
+supplied by their commerce.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;By what means,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;are the
+Europeans thus powerful? or why, since they can so easily visit
+Asia and Africa for trade or conquest, cannot the Asiatics and
+Africans invade their coast, plant colonies in their ports, and
+give laws to their natural princes?&nbsp; The same wind that
+carries them back would bring us thither.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;They are more powerful, sir, than we,&rdquo; answered
+Imlac, &ldquo;because they are wiser; knowledge will always
+predominate over ignorance, as man governs the other
+animals.&nbsp; But why their knowledge is more than ours I know
+not what reason can be given but the unsearchable will of the
+Supreme Being.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When,&rdquo; said the Prince with a sigh, &ldquo;shall
+I be able to visit Palestine, and mingle with this mighty
+confluence of nations?&nbsp; Till that happy moment shall arrive,
+let me fill up the time with such representations as thou canst
+give me.&nbsp; I am not ignorant of the motive that assembles
+such numbers in that place, and cannot but consider it as the
+centre of wisdom and piety, to which the best and wisest men of
+every land must be continually resorting.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There are some nations,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;that
+send few visitants to Palestine; for many numerous and learned
+sects in Europe concur to censure pilgrimage as superstitious, or
+deride it as ridiculous.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You know,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;how little my
+life has made me acquainted with diversity of opinions; it will
+be too long to hear the arguments on both sides; you, that have
+considered them, tell me the result.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Pilgrimage,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;like many other
+acts of piety, may be reasonable or superstitious, according to
+the principles upon which it is performed.&nbsp; Long journeys in
+search of truth are not commanded.&nbsp; Truth, such as is
+necessary to the regulation of life, is always found where it is
+honestly sought.&nbsp; Change of place is no natural cause of the
+increase of piety, for it inevitably produces dissipation of
+mind.&nbsp; Yet, since men go every day to view the fields where
+great actions have been performed, and return with stronger
+impressions of the event, curiosity of the same kind may
+naturally dispose us to view that country whence our religion had
+its beginning, and I believe no man surveys those awful scenes
+without some confirmation of holy resolutions.&nbsp; That the
+Supreme Being may be more easily propitiated in one place than in
+another is the dream of idle superstition, but that some places
+may operate upon our own minds in an uncommon manner is an
+opinion which hourly experience will justify.&nbsp; He who
+supposes that his vices may be more successfully combated in
+Palestine, will perhaps find himself mistaken; yet he may go
+thither without folly; he who thinks they will be more freely
+pardoned, dishonours at once his reason and religion.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;These,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;are European
+distinctions.&nbsp; I will consider them another time.&nbsp; What
+have you found to be the effect of knowledge?&nbsp; Are those
+nations happier than we?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There is so much infelicity,&rdquo; said the poet,
+&ldquo;in the world, that scarce any man has leisure from his own
+distresses to estimate the comparative happiness of others.&nbsp;
+Knowledge is certainly one of the means of pleasure, as is
+confessed by the natural desire which every mind feels of
+increasing its ideas.&nbsp; Ignorance is mere privation, by which
+nothing can be produced; it is a vacuity in which the soul sits
+motionless and torpid for want of attraction, and, without
+knowing why, we always rejoice when we learn, and grieve when we
+forget.&nbsp; I am therefore inclined to conclude that if nothing
+counteracts the natural consequence of learning, we grow more
+happy as out minds take a wider range.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In enumerating the particular comforts of life, we
+shall find many advantages on the side of the Europeans.&nbsp;
+They cure wounds and diseases with which we languish and
+perish.&nbsp; We suffer inclemencies of weather which they can
+obviate.&nbsp; They have engines for the despatch of many
+laborious works, which we must perform by manual industry.&nbsp;
+There is such communication between distant places that one
+friend can hardly be said to be absent from another.&nbsp; Their
+policy removes all public inconveniences; they have roads cut
+through the mountains, and bridges laid over their rivers.&nbsp;
+And, if we descend to the privacies of life, their habitations
+are more commodious and their possessions are more
+secure.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;They are surely happy,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;who have all these conveniences, of which I envy none so
+much as the facility with which separated friends interchange
+their thoughts.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The Europeans,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;are less
+<a name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 54</span>unhappy
+than we, but they are not happy.&nbsp; Human life is everywhere a
+state in which much is to be endured and little to be
+enjoyed.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII<br />
+THE STORY OF IMLAC (<i>continued</i>).</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;I <span class="smcap">am</span> not willing,&rdquo;
+said the Prince, &ldquo;to suppose that happiness is so
+parsimoniously distributed to mortals, nor can I believe but
+that, if I had the choice of life, I should be able to fill every
+day with pleasure.&nbsp; I would injure no man, and should
+provoke no resentments; I would relieve every distress, and
+should enjoy the benedictions of gratitude.&nbsp; I would choose
+my friends among the wise and my wife among the virtuous, and
+therefore should be in no danger from treachery or
+unkindness.&nbsp; My children should by my care be learned and
+pious, and would repay to my age what their childhood had
+received.&nbsp; What would dare to molest him who might call on
+every side to thousands enriched by his bounty or assisted by his
+power?&nbsp; And why should not life glide away in the soft
+reciprocation of protection and reverence?&nbsp; All this may be
+done without the help of European refinements, which appear by
+their effects to be rather specious than useful.&nbsp; Let us
+leave them and pursue our journey.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;From Palestine,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;I passed
+through many regions of Asia; in the more civilised kingdoms as a
+trader, and among the barbarians of the mountains as a
+pilgrim.&nbsp; At last I began to long for my native country,
+that I might repose after my travels and fatigues in the places
+where I had spent my earliest years, and gladden my old
+companions with the recital of my adventures.&nbsp; Often did I
+figure to myself those with whom I had sported away the gay hours
+of dawning life, sitting round me in its evening, wondering at my
+tales and listening to my counsels.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When this thought had taken possession of my mind, I
+considered every moment as wasted which did not bring me nearer
+to Abyssinia.&nbsp; I hastened into Egypt, and, notwithstanding
+my impatience, was detained ten months in the contemplation of
+its ancient magnificence and in inquiries after the remains of
+its ancient learning.&nbsp; I found in Cairo a mixture of all
+nations: some brought thither by the love of knowledge, some by
+the hope of gain; many by the desire of living after their own
+manner without observation, and of lying hid in the obscurity of
+multitudes; for in a city populous as Cairo it is possible to
+obtain at the same time the gratifications of society and the
+secrecy of solitude.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;From Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked on the Red
+Sea, passing along the coast till I arrived at the port from
+which I had departed twenty years before.&nbsp; Here I joined
+myself to a caravan, and re-entered my native country.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen and the
+congratulations of my friends, and was not without hope that my
+father, whatever value he had set upon riches, would own with
+gladness and pride a son who was able to add to the felicity and
+honour of the nation.&nbsp; But I was soon convinced that my
+thoughts were vain.&nbsp; My father had been dead fourteen years,
+having divided his wealth among my brothers, who were removed to
+some other provinces.&nbsp; Of my companions, the greater part
+was in the grave; of the rest, some could with difficulty
+remember me, and some considered me as one corrupted by foreign
+manners.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;A man used to vicissitudes is not easily
+dejected.&nbsp; I forgot, after a time, my disappointment, and
+endeavoured to recommend myself to the nobles of the kingdom;
+they admitted me to their tables, heard my story, and dismissed
+me.&nbsp; I opened a school, and was prohibited to teach.&nbsp; I
+then resolved to sit down in the quiet of domestic life, and
+addressed a lady that was fond of my conversation, but rejected
+my suit because my father was a merchant.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Wearied at last with solicitation and repulses, I
+resolved to hide myself for ever from the world, and depend no
+longer on the opinion or caprice of others.&nbsp; I waited for
+the time when the gate of the Happy Valley should open, that I
+might bid farewell to hope and fear; the day came, my performance
+was distinguished with favour, and I resigned myself with joy to
+perpetual confinement.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Hast thou here found happiness at last?&rdquo; said
+Rasselas.&nbsp; &ldquo;Tell me, without reserve, art thou content
+with thy condition, or dost thou wish to be again wandering and
+inquiring?&nbsp; All the inhabitants of this valley celebrate
+their lot, and at the annual visit of the Emperor invite others
+to partake of their felicity.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Great Prince,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;I shall speak
+the truth.&nbsp; I know not one of all your attendants who does
+not lament the hour when he entered this retreat.&nbsp; I am less
+unhappy than the rest, because I have a mind replete with images,
+which I can vary and combine at pleasure.&nbsp; I can amuse my
+solitude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins to fade
+from my memory, and by recollection of the accidents of my past
+life.&nbsp; Yet all this ends in the sorrowful consideration that
+my acquirements are now useless, and that none of my pleasures
+can be again enjoyed.&nbsp; The rest, whose minds have no
+impression but of the present moment, are either corroded by
+malignant passions or sit stupid in the gloom of perpetual
+vacancy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What passions can infest those,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;who have no rivals?&nbsp; We are in a place where
+impotence precludes malice, and where all envy is repressed by
+community of enjoyments.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There may be community,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;of
+material possessions, but there can never be community of love or
+of esteem.&nbsp; It must happen that one will please more than
+another; he that knows himself despised will always be envious,
+and still more envious and malevolent if he is condemned to live
+in the presence of those who despise him.&nbsp; The invitations
+by which they allure others to a state which they feel to be
+wretched, proceed from the natural malignity of hopeless
+misery.&nbsp; They are weary of themselves and of each other, and
+expect to find relief in new companions.&nbsp; They envy the
+liberty which their folly has forfeited, and would gladly see all
+mankind imprisoned like themselves.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;From this crime, however, I am wholly free.&nbsp; No
+man can say that he is wretched by my persuasion.&nbsp; I look
+with pity on the crowds who are annually soliciting admission to
+captivity, and wish that it were lawful for me to warn them of
+their danger.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Imlac,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;I will
+open to thee my whole heart.&nbsp; I have long meditated an
+escape from the Happy Valley.&nbsp; I have examined the mountain
+on every side, but find myself insuperably barred&mdash;teach me
+the way to break my prison; thou shalt be the companion of my
+flight, the guide of my rambles, the partner of my fortune, and
+my sole director in the <i>choice of life</i>.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; answered the poet, &ldquo;your escape will
+be difficult, and perhaps you may soon repent your
+curiosity.&nbsp; The world, which you figure to yourself smooth
+and quiet as the lake in the valley, you will find a sea foaming
+with tempests and boiling with whirlpools; you will be sometimes
+overwhelmed by the waves of violence, and sometimes dashed
+against the rocks of treachery.&nbsp; Amidst wrongs and frauds,
+competitions and anxieties, you will wish a thousand <a
+name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>times for
+these seats of quiet, and willingly quit hope to be free from
+fear.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do not seek to deter me from my purpose,&rdquo; said
+the Prince.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am impatient to see what thou hast
+seen; and since thou art thyself weary of the valley, it is
+evident that thy former state was better than this.&nbsp;
+Whatever be the consequence of my experiment, I am resolved to
+judge with mine own eyes of the various conditions of men, and
+then to make deliberately my <i>choice of life</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;you are hindered
+by stronger restraints than my persuasions; yet, if your
+determination is fixed, I do not counsel you to despair.&nbsp;
+Few things are impossible to diligence and skill.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII<br />
+RASSELAS DISCOVERS THE MEANS OF ESCAPE.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Prince now dismissed his
+favourite to rest; but the narrative of wonders and novelties
+filled his mind with perturbation.&nbsp; He revolved all that he
+had heard, and prepared innumerable questions for the
+morning.</p>
+<p>Much of his uneasiness was now removed.&nbsp; He had a friend
+to whom he could impart his thoughts, and whose experience could
+assist him in his designs.&nbsp; His heart was no longer
+condemned to swell with silent vexation.&nbsp; He thought that
+even the Happy Valley might be endured with such a companion, and
+that if they could range the world together he should have
+nothing further to desire.</p>
+<p>In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground
+dried.&nbsp; The Prince and Imlac then walked out together, to
+converse without the notice of the rest.&nbsp; The Prince, whose
+thoughts were always on the wing, as he passed by the gate said,
+with a countenance of sorrow, &ldquo;Why art thou so strong, and
+why is man so weak?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Man is not weak,&rdquo; answered his companion;
+&ldquo;knowledge is more than equivalent to force.&nbsp; The
+master of mechanics laughs at strength.&nbsp; I can burst the
+gate, but cannot do it secretly.&nbsp; Some other expedient must
+be tried.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>As they were walking on the side of the mountain they observed
+that the coneys, which the rain had driven from their burrows,
+had taken shelter among the bushes, and formed holes behind them
+tending upwards in an oblique line.&nbsp;&nbsp; &ldquo;It has
+been the opinion of antiquity,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;that
+human reason borrowed many arts from the instinct of animals; let
+us, therefore, not think ourselves degraded by learning from the
+coney.&nbsp; We may escape by piercing the mountain in the same
+direction.&nbsp; We will begin where the summit hangs over the
+middle part, and labour upward till we shall issue out beyond the
+prominence.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The eyes of the Prince, when he heard this proposal, sparkled
+with joy.&nbsp; The execution was easy and the success
+certain.</p>
+<p>No time was now lost.&nbsp; They hastened early in the morning
+to choose a place proper for their mine.&nbsp; They clambered
+with great fatigue among crags and brambles, and returned without
+having discovered any part that favoured their design.&nbsp; The
+second and the third day were spent in the same manner, and with
+the same frustration; but on the fourth day they found a small
+cavern concealed by a thicket, where they resolved to make their
+experiment.</p>
+<p>Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and remove
+earth, and they fell to their work on the next day with more
+eagerness than vigour.&nbsp; They were presently exhausted by
+their efforts, and sat down to pant upon the grass.&nbsp; The
+Prince for a moment appeared to be discouraged.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said his companion, &ldquo;practice will
+enable us to continue our labour for a longer time.&nbsp; Mark,
+however, how far we have advanced, and ye will find that our toil
+will some time have an end.&nbsp; Great works are performed not
+by strength, but perseverance; yonder palace was raised by single
+stones, yet you see its height and spaciousness.&nbsp; He that
+shall walk with vigour three hours a day, will pass in seven
+years a space equal to the circumference of the globe.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They returned to their work day after day, and in a short time
+found a fissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with
+very little obstruction.&nbsp; This Rasselas considered as a good
+omen.&nbsp; &ldquo;Do not disturb your mind,&rdquo; said Imlac,
+&ldquo;with other hopes or fears than reason may suggest; if you
+are pleased with the prognostics of good, you will be terrified
+likewise with tokens of evil, and your whole life will be a prey
+to superstition.&nbsp; Whatever facilitates our work is more than
+an omen; it is a cause of success.&nbsp; This is one of those
+pleasing surprises which often happen to active resolution.&nbsp;
+Many things difficult to design prove easy to
+performance.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+64</span>CHAPTER XIV<br />
+RASSELAS AND IMLAC RECEIVE AN UNEXPECTED VISIT.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">They</span> had now wrought their way to
+the middle, and solaced their toil with the approach of liberty,
+when the Prince, coming down to refresh himself with air, found
+his sister Nekayah standing at the mouth of the cavity.&nbsp; He
+started, and stood confused, afraid to tell his design, and yet
+hopeless to conceal it.&nbsp; A few moments determined him to
+repose on her fidelity, and secure her secrecy by a declaration
+without reserve.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do not imagine,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;that I
+came hither as a spy.&nbsp; I had long observed from my window
+that you and Imlac directed your walk every day towards the same
+point, but I did not suppose you had any better reason for the
+preference than a cooler shade or more fragrant bank, nor
+followed you with any other design than to partake of your
+conversation.&nbsp; Since, then, not suspicion, but fondness, has
+detected you, let me not lose the advantage of my
+discovery.&nbsp; I am equally weary of confinement with yourself,
+and not less desirous of knowing what is done or suffered in the
+world.&nbsp; Permit me to fly with you from this tasteless
+tranquillity, which will yet grow more loathsome when you have
+left me.&nbsp; You may deny me to accompany you, but cannot
+hinder me from following.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Prince, who loved Nekayah above his other sisters, had no
+inclination to refuse her request, and grieved that he had lost
+an opportunity of showing his confidence by a voluntary
+communication.&nbsp; It was, therefore, agreed that she should
+leave the valley with them; and that in the meantime she should
+watch, lest any other straggler should, by chance or curiosity,
+follow them to the mountain.</p>
+<p>At length their labour was at an end.&nbsp; They saw light
+beyond the prominence, and, issuing to the top of the mountain,
+beheld the Nile, yet a narrow current, wandering beneath
+them.</p>
+<p>The Prince looked round with rapture, anticipated all the
+pleasures of travel, and in thought was already transported
+beyond his father&rsquo;s dominions.&nbsp; Imlac, though very
+joyful at his escape, had less expectation of pleasure in the
+world, which he had before tried and of which he had been
+weary.</p>
+<p>Rasselas was so much delighted with a wider horizon, that he
+could not soon be persuaded to <a name="page66"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 66</span>return into the valley.&nbsp; He
+informed his sister that the way was now open, and that nothing
+now remained but to prepare for their departure.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV<br />
+THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS LEAVE THE VALLEY, AND SEE MANY
+WONDERS.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Prince and Princess had jewels
+sufficient to make them rich whenever they came into a place of
+commerce, which, by Imlac&rsquo;s direction, they hid in their
+clothes, and on the night of the next full moon all left the
+valley.&nbsp; The Princess was followed only by a single
+favourite, who did not know whither she was going.</p>
+<p>They clambered through the cavity, and began to go down on the
+other side.&nbsp; The Princess and her maid turned their eyes
+toward every part, and seeing nothing to bound their prospect,
+considered themselves in danger of being lost in a dreary
+vacuity.&nbsp; They stopped and trembled.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am
+almost afraid,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;to begin a
+journey of which I cannot perceive an end, and to venture into
+this immense plain where I may be approached on every side by men
+whom I never saw.&rdquo;&nbsp; The Prince felt nearly the same
+emotions, though he thought it more manly to conceal them.</p>
+<p>Imlac smiled at their terrors, and encouraged them to
+proceed.&nbsp; But the Princess continued irresolute till she had
+been imperceptibly drawn forward too far to return.</p>
+<p>In the morning they found some shepherds in the field, who set
+some milk and fruits before them.&nbsp; The Princess wondered
+that she did not see a palace ready for her reception and a table
+spread with delicacies; but being faint and hungry, she drank the
+milk and ate the fruits, and thought them of a higher flavour
+than the products of the valley.</p>
+<p>They travelled forward by easy journeys, being all
+unaccustomed to toil and difficulty, and knowing that, though
+they might be missed, they could not be pursued.&nbsp; In a few
+days they came into a more populous region, where Imlac was
+diverted with the admiration which his companions expressed at
+the diversity of manners, stations, and employments.&nbsp; Their
+dress was such as might not bring upon them the suspicion of
+having anything to conceal; yet the Prince, wherever he came,
+expected to be obeyed, and the Princess was frighted because
+those who came into her presence did not prostrate
+themselves.&nbsp; Imlac was forced to observe them with great
+vigilance, lest they should betray their rank by their unusual
+behaviour, and detained them several weeks in the first village
+to accustom them to the sight of common mortals.</p>
+<p>By degrees the royal wanderers were taught to understand that
+they had for a time laid aside their dignity, and were to expect
+only such regard as liberality and courtesy could procure.&nbsp;
+And Imlac having by many admonitions prepared them to endure the
+tumults of a port and the ruggedness of the commercial race,
+brought them down to the sea-coast.</p>
+<p>The Prince and his sister, to whom everything was new, were
+gratified equally at all places, and therefore remained for some
+months at the port without any inclination to pass further.&nbsp;
+Imlac was content with their stay, because he did not think it
+safe to expose them, unpractised in the world, to the hazards of
+a foreign country.</p>
+<p>At last he began to fear lest they should be discovered, and
+proposed to fix a day for their departure.&nbsp; They had no
+pretensions to judge for themselves, and referred the whole
+scheme to his direction.&nbsp; He therefore took passage in a
+ship to Suez, and, when the time came, with great difficulty <a
+name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 69</span>prevailed on
+the Princess to enter the vessel.&nbsp; They had a quick and
+prosperous voyage, and from Suez travelled by land to Cairo.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI<br />
+THEY ENTER CAIRO, AND FIND EVERY MAN HAPPY.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">As</span> they approached the city, which
+filled the strangers with astonishment, &ldquo;This,&rdquo; said
+Imlac to the Prince, &ldquo;is the place where travellers and
+merchants assemble from all corners of the earth.&nbsp; You will
+here find men of every character and every occupation.&nbsp;
+Commerce is here honourable.&nbsp; I will act as a merchant, and
+you shall live as strangers who have no other end of travel than
+curiosity; it will soon be observed that we are rich.&nbsp; Our
+reputation will procure us access to all whom we shall desire to
+know; you shall see all the conditions of humanity, and enable
+yourselves at leisure to make your <i>choice of
+life</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They now entered the town, stunned by the noise and offended
+by the crowds.&nbsp; Instruction had not yet so prevailed over
+habit but that they wondered to see themselves pass
+undistinguished along the streets, and met by the lowest of the
+people without reverence or notice.&nbsp; The Princess could not
+at first bear the thought of being levelled with the vulgar, and
+for some time continued in her chamber, where she was served by
+her favourite Pekuah, as in the palace of the valley.</p>
+<p>Imlac, who understood traffic, sold part of the jewels the
+next day, and hired a house, which he adorned with such
+magnificence that he was immediately considered as a merchant of
+great wealth.&nbsp; His politeness attracted many acquaintances,
+and his generosity made him courted by many dependants.&nbsp; His
+companions, not being able to mix in the conversation, could make
+no discovery of their ignorance or surprise, and were gradually
+initiated in the world as they gained knowledge of the
+language.</p>
+<p>The Prince had by frequent lectures been taught the use and
+nature of money; but the ladies could not for a long time
+comprehend what the merchants did with small pieces of gold and
+silver, or why things of so little use should be received as an
+equivalent to the necessaries of life.</p>
+<p>They studied the language two years, while Imlac was preparing
+to set before them the various ranks and conditions of
+mankind.&nbsp; He grew acquainted with all who had anything
+uncommon in their fortune or conduct.&nbsp; He frequented the
+voluptuous and the frugal, the idle and the busy, the merchants
+and the men of learning.</p>
+<p>The Prince now being able to converse with fluency, and having
+learned the caution necessary to be observed in his intercourse
+with strangers, began to accompany Imlac to places of resort, and
+to enter into all assemblies, that he might make his <i>choice of
+life</i>.</p>
+<p>For some time he thought choice needless, because all appeared
+to him really happy.&nbsp; Wherever he went he met gaiety and
+kindness, and heard the song of joy or the laugh of
+carelessness.&nbsp; He began to believe that the world overflowed
+with universal plenty, and that nothing was withheld either from
+want or merit; that every hand showered liberality and every
+heart melted with benevolence: &ldquo;And who then,&rdquo; says
+he, &ldquo;will be suffered to be wretched?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to
+crush the hope of inexperience: till one day, having sat awhile
+silent, &ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;what
+can be the reason that I am more unhappy than any of our
+friends.&nbsp; I see them perpetually and unalterably cheerful,
+but feel my own mind restless and uneasy.&nbsp; I am unsatisfied
+with those pleasures which I seem most to court.&nbsp; I live in
+the crowds of jollity, not so much to enjoy company as to shun
+myself, and am only loud and merry to conceal my
+sadness.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Every man,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;may by examining
+his own mind guess what passes in the minds of others.&nbsp; When
+you feel that your own gaiety is counterfeit, it may justly lead
+you to suspect that of your companions not to be sincere.&nbsp;
+Envy is commonly reciprocal.&nbsp; We are long before we are
+convinced that happiness is never to be found, and each believes
+it possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of obtaining it
+for himself.&nbsp; In the assembly where you passed the last
+night there appeared such sprightliness of air and volatility of
+fancy as might have suited beings of a higher order, formed to
+inhabit serener regions, inaccessible to care or sorrow; yet,
+believe me, Prince, was there not one who did not dread the
+moment when solitude should deliver him to the tyranny of
+reflection.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;may be true of
+others since it is true of me; yet, whatever be the general
+infelicity of man, one condition is more happy than another, and
+wisdom surely directs us to take the least evil in the <i>choice
+of life</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The causes of good and evil,&rdquo; answered Imlac,
+&ldquo;are so various and uncertain, so often entangled with each
+other, so diversified by various relations, and so much subject
+to accidents which cannot be foreseen, that he who would fix his
+condition upon incontestable reasons of preference must live and
+die inquiring and deliberating.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But, surely,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;the wise men,
+to whom we listen with reverence and wonder, chose that mode of
+life for themselves which they thought most likely to make them
+happy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Very few,&rdquo; said the poet, &ldquo;live by
+choice.&nbsp; Every man is placed in the present condition by
+causes which acted without his foresight, and with which he did
+not always willingly co-operate, and therefore you will rarely
+meet one who does not think the lot of his neighbour better than
+his own.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am pleased to think,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;that my birth has given me at least one advantage over
+others by enabling me to determine for myself.&nbsp; I have here
+the world before me.&nbsp; I will review it at leisure: surely
+happiness is somewhere to be found.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+74</span>CHAPTER XVII<br />
+THE PRINCE ASSOCIATES WITH YOUNG MEN OF SPIRIT AND GAIETY.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Rasselas</span> rose next day, and
+resolved to begin his experiments upon life.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Youth,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;is the time of gladness: I
+will join myself to the young men whose only business is to
+gratify their desires, and whose time is all spent in a
+succession of enjoyments.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>To such societies he was readily admitted, but a few days
+brought him back weary and disgusted.&nbsp; Their mirth was
+without images, their laughter without motive; their pleasures
+were gross and sensual, in which the mind had no part; their
+conduct was at once wild and mean&mdash;they laughed at order and
+at law, but the frown of power dejected and the eye of wisdom
+abashed them.</p>
+<p>The Prince soon concluded that he should never be happy in a
+course of life of which he was ashamed.&nbsp; He thought it
+unsuitable to a reasonable being to act without a plan, and to be
+sad or cheerful only by chance.&nbsp; &ldquo;Happiness,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;must be something solid and permanent, without
+fear and without uncertainty.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>But his young companions had gained so much of his regard by
+their frankness and courtesy that he could not leave them without
+warning and remonstrance.&nbsp; &ldquo;My friends,&rdquo; said
+he, &ldquo;I have seriously considered our manners and our
+prospects, and find that we have mistaken our own interest.&nbsp;
+The first years of man must make provision for the last.&nbsp; He
+that never thinks, never can be wise.&nbsp; Perpetual levity must
+end in ignorance; and intemperance, though it may fire the
+spirits for an hour, will make life short or miserable.&nbsp; Let
+us consider that youth is of no long duration, and that in mature
+age, when the enchantments of fancy shall cease, and phantoms of
+delight dance no more about us, we shall have no comforts but the
+esteem of wise men and the means of doing good.&nbsp; Let us
+therefore stop while to stop is in our power: let us live as men
+who are some time to grow old, and to whom it will be the most
+dreadful of all evils to count their past years by follies, and
+to be reminded of their former luxuriance of health only by the
+maladies which riot has produced.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They stared awhile in silence one upon another, and at last
+drove him away by a general chorus of continued laughter.</p>
+<p><a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>The
+consciousness that his sentiments were just and his intention
+kind was scarcely sufficient to support him against the horror of
+derision.&nbsp; But he recovered his tranquillity and pursued his
+search.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII<br />
+THE PRINCE FINDS A WISE AND HAPPY MAN.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">As</span> he was one day walking in the
+street he saw a spacious building which all were by the open
+doors invited to enter.&nbsp; He followed the stream of people,
+and found it a hall or school of declamation, in which professors
+read lectures to their auditory.&nbsp; He fixed his eye upon a
+sage raised above the rest, who discoursed with great energy on
+the government of the passions.&nbsp; His look was venerable, his
+action graceful, his pronunciation clear, and his diction
+elegant.&nbsp; He showed with great strength of sentiment and
+variety of illustration that human nature is degraded and debased
+when the lower faculties predominate over the higher; that when
+fancy, the parent of passion, usurps the dominion of the mind,
+nothing ensues but the natural effect of unlawful government,
+perturbation, and confusion; that she betrays the fortresses of
+the intellect to rebels, and excites her children to sedition
+against their lawful sovereign.&nbsp; He compared reason to the
+sun, of which the light is constant, uniform, and lasting; and
+fancy to a meteor, of bright but transitory lustre, irregular in
+its motion and delusive in its direction.</p>
+<p>He then communicated the various precepts given from time to
+time for the conquest of passion, and displayed the happiness of
+those who had obtained the important victory, after which man is
+no longer the slave of fear nor the fool of hope; is no more
+emaciated by envy, inflamed by anger, emasculated by tenderness,
+or depressed by grief; but walks on calmly through the tumults or
+privacies of life, as the sun pursues alike his course through
+the calm or the stormy sky.</p>
+<p>He enumerated many examples of heroes immovable by pain or
+pleasure, who looked with indifference on those modes or
+accidents to which the vulgar give the names of good and
+evil.&nbsp; He exhorted his hearers to lay aside their
+prejudices, and arm themselves against the shafts of malice or
+misfortune, by invulnerable patience: concluding that this state
+only was happiness, and that this happiness was in every
+one&rsquo;s power.</p>
+<p>Rasselas listened to him with the veneration due to the
+instructions of a superior being, and waiting for him at the
+door, humbly implored the liberty of visiting so great a master
+of true wisdom.&nbsp; The lecturer hesitated a moment, when
+Rasselas put a purse of gold into his hand, which he received
+with a mixture of joy and wonder.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have found,&rdquo; said the Prince at his return to
+Imlac, &ldquo;a man who can teach all that is necessary to be
+known; who, from the unshaken throne of rational fortitude, looks
+down on the scenes of life changing beneath him.&nbsp; He speaks,
+and attention watches his lips.&nbsp; He reasons, and conviction
+closes his periods.&nbsp; This man shall be my future guide: I
+will learn his doctrines and imitate his life.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Be not too hasty,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;to trust or
+to admire the teachers of morality: they discourse like angels,
+but they live like men.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Rasselas, who could not conceive how any man could reason so
+forcibly without feeling the cogency of his own arguments, paid
+his visit in a few days, and was denied admission.&nbsp; He had
+now learned the power of money, and made his way by a piece of
+gold to the inner apartment, where he found the philosopher in a
+room half darkened, with his eyes misty and his face pale.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you are come at a time when
+all human friendship is useless; what I suffer cannot be
+remedied: what I have lost cannot be supplied.&nbsp; My daughter,
+my only daughter, from whose tenderness I expected all the
+comforts of my age, died last night of a fever.&nbsp; My views,
+my purposes, my hopes, are at an end: I am now a lonely being,
+disunited from society.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;mortality is an
+event by which a wise man can never be surprised: we know that
+death is always near, and it should therefore always be
+expected.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Young man,&rdquo; answered the
+philosopher, &ldquo;you speak like one that has never felt the
+pangs of separation.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Have you then forgot the
+precepts,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;which you so powerfully
+enforced?&nbsp; Has wisdom no strength to arm the heart against
+calamity?&nbsp; Consider that external things are naturally
+variable, but truth and reason are always the same.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;What comfort,&rdquo; said the mourner, &ldquo;can truth
+and reason afford me?&nbsp; Of what effect are they now, but to
+tell me that my daughter will not be restored?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult
+misery with reproof, went away, convinced of the emptiness of
+rhetorical sounds, and the inefficacy of polished periods and
+studied sentences.</p>
+<h2><a name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+80</span>CHAPTER XIX<br />
+A GLIMPSE OF PASTORAL LIFE.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">He</span> was still eager upon the same
+inquiry; and having heard of a hermit that lived near the lowest
+cataract of the Nile, and filled the whole country with the fame
+of his sanctity, resolved to visit his retreat, and inquire
+whether that felicity which public life could not afford was to
+be found in solitude, and whether a man whose age and virtue made
+him venerable could teach any peculiar art of shunning evils or
+enduring them.</p>
+<p>Imlac and the Princess agreed to accompany him, and after the
+necessary preparations, they began their journey.&nbsp; Their way
+lay through the fields, where shepherds tended their flocks and
+the lambs were playing upon the pasture.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said the poet, &ldquo;is the life which has
+been often celebrated for its innocence and quiet; let us pass
+the heat of the day among the shepherds&rsquo; tents, and know
+whether all our searches are not to terminate in pastoral
+simplicity.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The proposal pleased them; and they induced the shepherds, by
+small presents and familiar questions, to tell the opinion of
+their own state.&nbsp; They were so rude and ignorant, so little
+able to compare the good with the evil of the occupation, and so
+indistinct in their narratives and descriptions, that very little
+could be learned from them.&nbsp; But it was evident that their
+hearts were cankered with discontent; that they considered
+themselves as condemned to labour for the luxury of the rich, and
+looked up with stupid malevolence towards those that were placed
+above them.</p>
+<p>The Princess pronounced with vehemence that she would never
+suffer these envious savages to be her companions, and that she
+should not soon be desirous of seeing any more specimens of
+rustic happiness; but could not believe that all the accounts of
+primeval pleasures were fabulous, and was in doubt whether life
+had anything that could be justly preferred to the placid
+gratification of fields and woods.&nbsp; She hoped that the time
+would come when, with a few virtuous and elegant companions, she
+should gather flowers planted by her own hands, fondle the lambs
+of her own ewe, and listen without care, among brooks and
+breezes, to one of her maidens reading in the shade.</p>
+<h2><a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+82</span>CHAPTER XX<br />
+THE DANGER OF PROSPERITY.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the next day they continued
+their journey till the heat compelled them to look round for
+shelter.&nbsp; At a small distance they saw a thick wood, which
+they no sooner entered than they perceived that they were
+approaching the habitations of men.&nbsp; The shrubs were
+diligently cut away to open walks where the shades ware darkest;
+the boughs of opposite trees were artificially interwoven; seats
+of flowery turf were raised in vacant spaces; and a rivulet that
+wantoned along the side of a winding path had its banks sometimes
+opened into small basins, and its stream sometimes obstructed by
+little mounds of stone heaped together to increase its
+murmurs.</p>
+<p>They passed slowly through the wood, delighted with such
+unexpected accommodations, and entertained each other with
+conjecturing what or who he could be that in those rude and
+unfrequented regions had leisure and art for such harmless
+luxury.</p>
+<p>As they advanced they heard the sound of music, and saw youths
+and virgins dancing in the grove; and going still farther beheld
+a stately palace built upon a hill surrounded by woods.&nbsp; The
+laws of Eastern hospitality allowed them to enter, and the master
+welcomed them like a man liberal and wealthy.</p>
+<p>He was skilful enough in appearances soon to discern that they
+were no common guests, and spread his table with
+magnificence.&nbsp; The eloquence of Imlac caught his attention,
+and the lofty courtesy of the Princess excited his respect.&nbsp;
+When they offered to depart, he entreated their stay, and was the
+next day more unwilling to dismiss them than before.&nbsp; They
+were easily persuaded to stop, and civility grew up in time to
+freedom and confidence.</p>
+<p>The Prince now saw all the domestics cheerful and all the face
+of nature smiling round the place, and could not forbear to hope
+that he should find here what he was seeking; but when he was
+congratulating the master upon his possessions he answered with a
+sigh, &ldquo;My condition has indeed the appearance of happiness,
+but appearances are delusive.&nbsp; My prosperity puts my life in
+danger; the Bassa of Egypt is my enemy, incensed only by my
+wealth and popularity.&nbsp; I have been hitherto protected
+against him by the princes of the country; but as the favour of
+the great is uncertain I know <a name="page84"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 84</span>not how soon my defenders may be
+persuaded to share the plunder with the Bassa.&nbsp; I have sent
+my treasures into a distant country, and upon the first alarm am
+prepared to follow them.&nbsp; Then will my enemies riot in my
+mansion, and enjoy the gardens which I have planted.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They all joined in lamenting his danger and deprecating his
+exile; and the Princess was so much disturbed with the tumult of
+grief and indignation that she retired to her apartment.&nbsp;
+They continued with their kind inviter a few days longer, and
+then went to find the hermit.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI<br />
+THE HAPPINESS OF SOLITUDE&mdash;THE HERMIT&rsquo;S HISTORY.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">They</span> came on the third day, by the
+direction of the peasants, to the hermit&rsquo;s cell.&nbsp; It
+was a cavern in the side of a mountain, overshadowed with palm
+trees, at such a distance from the cataract that nothing more was
+heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as composes the mind to
+pensive meditation, especially when it was assisted by the wind
+whistling among the branches.&nbsp; The first rude essay of
+Nature had been so much improved by human labour that the cave
+contained several apartments appropriated to different uses, and
+often afforded lodging to travellers whom darkness or tempests
+happened to overtake.</p>
+<p>The hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness
+of the evening.&nbsp; On one side lay a book with pens and paper;
+on the other mechanical instruments of various kinds.&nbsp; As
+they approached him unregarded, the Princess observed that he had
+not the countenance of a man that had found or could teach the
+way to happiness.</p>
+<p>They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid like a
+man not unaccustomed to the forms of Courts.&nbsp; &ldquo;My
+children,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;if you have lost your way, you
+shall be willingly supplied with such conveniences for the night
+as this cavern will afford.&nbsp; I have all that Nature
+requires, and you will not expect delicacies in a hermit&rsquo;s
+cell.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They thanked him; and, entering, were pleased with the
+neatness and regularity of the place.&nbsp; The hermit set flesh
+and wine before them, though he fed only upon fruits and
+water.&nbsp; His discourse was cheerful without levity, and pious
+without enthusiasm.&nbsp; He soon gained the esteem of his
+guests, and the Princess repented her hasty censure.</p>
+<p>At last Imlac began thus: &ldquo;I do not now wonder that your
+reputation is so far extended: we have heard at Cairo of your
+wisdom, and came hither to implore your direction for this young
+man and maiden in the <i>choice of life</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To him that lives well,&rdquo; answered the hermit,
+&ldquo;every form of life is good; nor can I give any other rule
+for choice than to remove all apparent evil.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He will most certainly remove from evil,&rdquo; said
+the Prince, &ldquo;who shall devote himself to that solitude
+which you have recommended by your example.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have indeed lived fifteen years in solitude,&rdquo;
+said the hermit, &ldquo;but have no desire that my example should
+gain any imitators.&nbsp; In my youth I professed arms, and was
+raised by degrees to the highest military rank.&nbsp; I have
+traversed wide countries at the head of my troops, and seen many
+battles and sieges.&nbsp; At last, being disgusted by the
+preferments of a younger officer, and feeling that my vigour was
+beginning to decay, I resolved to close my life in peace, having
+found the world full of snares, discord, and misery.&nbsp; I had
+once escaped from the pursuit of the enemy by the shelter of this
+cavern, and therefore chose it for my final residence.&nbsp; I
+employed artificers to form it into chambers, and stored it with
+all that I was likely to want.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;For some time after my retreat I rejoiced like a
+tempest-beaten sailor at his entrance into the harbour, being
+delighted with the sudden change of the noise and hurry of war to
+stillness and repose.&nbsp; When the pleasure of novelty went
+away, I employed my hours in examining the plants which grow in
+the valley, and the minerals which I collected from the
+rocks.&nbsp; But that inquiry is now grown tasteless and
+irksome.&nbsp; I have been for some time unsettled and
+distracted: my mind is disturbed with a thousand perplexities of
+doubt and vanities of imagination, which hourly prevail upon me,
+because I have no opportunities of relaxation or diversion.&nbsp;
+I am sometimes ashamed to think that I could not secure myself
+from vice but by retiring from the exercise of virtue, and begin
+to suspect that I was rather impelled by resentment than led by
+devotion into solitude.&nbsp; My fancy riots in scenes of folly,
+and I lament that I have lost so much, and have gained so
+little.&nbsp; In solitude, if I escape the example of bad men, I
+want likewise the counsel and conversation of the good.&nbsp; I
+have been long comparing the evils with <a
+name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 88</span>the
+advantages of society, and resolve to return into the world
+to-morrow.&nbsp; The life of a solitary man will be certainly
+miserable, but not certainly devout.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They heard his resolution with surprise, but after a short
+pause offered to conduct him to Cairo.&nbsp; He dug up a
+considerable treasure which he had hid among the rocks, and
+accompanied them to the city, on which, as he approached it, he
+gazed with rapture.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII<br />
+THE HAPPINESS OF A LIFE LED ACCORDING TO NATURE.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Rasselas</span> went often to an assembly
+of learned men, who met at stated times to unbend their minds and
+compare their opinions.&nbsp; Their manners were somewhat coarse,
+but their conversation was instructive, and their disputations
+acute, though sometimes too violent, and often continued till
+neither controvertist remembered upon what question he
+began.&nbsp; Some faults were almost general among them: every
+one was pleased to hear the genius or knowledge of another
+depreciated.</p>
+<p>In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the
+hermit, and the wonder with which he heard him censure a course
+of life which he had so deliberately chosen and so laudably
+followed.&nbsp; The sentiments of the hearers were various.&nbsp;
+Some were of opinion that the folly of his choice had been justly
+punished by condemnation to perpetual perseverance.&nbsp; One of
+the youngest among them, with great vehemence, pronounced him a
+hypocrite.&nbsp; Some talked of the right of society to the
+labour of individuals, and considered retirement as a desertion
+of duty.&nbsp; Others readily allowed that there was a time when
+the claims of the public were satisfied, and when a man might
+properly sequester himself, to review his life and purify his
+heart.</p>
+<p>One who appeared more affected with the narrative than the
+rest thought it likely that the hermit would in a few years go
+back to his retreat, and perhaps, if shame did not restrain or
+death intercept him, return once more from his retreat into the
+world.&nbsp; &ldquo;For the hope of happiness,&rdquo; said he,
+&ldquo;is so strongly impressed that the longest experience is
+not able to efface it.&nbsp; Of the present state, whatever it
+be, we feel and are forced to confess the misery; yet when the
+same state is again at a distance, imagination paints it as
+desirable.&nbsp; But the time will surely come when desire will
+no longer be our torment and no man shall be wretched but by his
+own fault.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said a philosopher who had heard him with
+tokens of great impatience, &ldquo;is the present condition of a
+wise man.&nbsp; The time is already come when none are wretched
+but by their own fault.&nbsp; Nothing is more idle than to
+inquire after happiness which Nature has kindly placed within our
+reach.&nbsp; The way to be happy is to live according to Nature,
+in obedience to that universal and unalterable law with which
+every heart is originally impressed; which is not written on it
+by precept, but engraven by destiny; not instilled by education,
+but infused at our nativity.&nbsp; He that lives according to
+Nature will suffer nothing from the delusions of hope or
+importunities of desire; he will receive and reject with
+equability of temper; and act or suffer as the reason of things
+shall alternately prescribe.&nbsp; Other men may amuse themselves
+with subtle definitions or intricate ratiocination.&nbsp; Let
+them learn to be wise by easier means: let them observe the hind
+of the forest and the linnet of the grove: let them consider the
+life of animals, whose motions are regulated by instinct; they
+obey their guide, and are happy.&nbsp; Let us therefore at length
+cease to dispute, and learn to live: throw away the encumbrance
+of precepts, which they who utter them with so much pride and
+pomp do not understand, and carry with us this simple and
+intelligible maxim: that deviation from Nature is deviation from
+happiness.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>When he had spoken he looked round him with a placid air, and
+enjoyed the consciousness of his own beneficence.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the Prince with great modesty,
+&ldquo;as I, like all the rest of mankind, am desirous of
+felicity, my closest attention has been fixed upon your
+discourse: I doubt not the truth of a position which a man so
+learned has so confidently advanced.&nbsp; Let me only know what
+it is to live according to Nature.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When I find young men so humble and so docile,&rdquo;
+said the philosopher, &ldquo;I can deny them no information which
+my studies have enabled me to afford.&nbsp; To live according to
+Nature is to act always with due regard to the fitness arising
+from the relations and qualities of causes and effects; to concur
+with the great and unchangeable scheme of universal felicity; to
+co-operate with the general disposition and tendency of the
+present system of things.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 92</span>The
+Prince soon found that this was one of the sages whom he should
+understand less as he heard him longer.&nbsp; He therefore bowed
+and was silent; and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied and
+the rest vanquished, rose up and departed with the air of a man
+that had co-operated with the present system.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII<br />
+THE PRINCE AND HIS SISTER DIVIDE BETWEEN THEM THE WORK OF
+OBSERVATION.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Rasselas</span> returned home full of
+reflections, doubting how to direct his future steps.&nbsp; Of
+the way to happiness he found the learned and simple equally
+ignorant; but as he was yet young, he flattered himself that he
+had time remaining for more experiments and further
+inquiries.&nbsp; He communicated to Imlac his observations and
+his doubts, but was answered by him with new doubts and remarks
+that gave him no comfort.&nbsp; He therefore discoursed more
+frequently and freely with his sister, who had yet the same hope
+with himself, and always assisted him to give some reason why,
+though he had been hitherto frustrated, he might succeed at
+last.</p>
+<p><a name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+93</span>&ldquo;We have hitherto,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;known
+but little of the world; we have never yet been either great or
+mean.&nbsp; In our own country, though we had royalty, we had no
+power; and in this we have not yet seen the private recesses of
+domestic peace.&nbsp; Imlac favours not our search, lest we
+should in time find him mistaken.&nbsp; We will divide the task
+between us; you shall try what is to be found in the splendour of
+Courts, and I will range the shades of humbler life.&nbsp;
+Perhaps command and authority may be the supreme blessings, as
+they afford the most opportunities of doing good; or perhaps what
+this world can give may be found in the modest habitations of
+middle fortune&mdash;too low for great designs, and too high for
+penury and distress.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV<br />
+THE PRINCE EXAMINES THE HAPPINESS OF HIGH STATIONS.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Rasselas</span> applauded the design, and
+appeared next day with a splendid retinue at the Court of the
+Bassa.&nbsp; He was soon distinguished for his magnificence, and
+admitted, as a Prince whose curiosity had brought him from
+distant countries, to an intimacy with the great officers and
+frequent conversation with the Bassa himself.</p>
+<p>He was at first inclined to believe that the man must be
+pleased with his own condition whom all approached with reverence
+and heard with obedience, and who had the power to extend his
+edicts to a whole kingdom.&nbsp; &ldquo;There can be no
+pleasure,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;equal to that of feeling at once
+the joy of thousands all made happy by wise administration.&nbsp;
+Yet, since by the law of subordination this sublime delight can
+be in one nation but the lot of one, it is surely reasonable to
+think that there is some satisfaction more popular and
+accessible, and that millions can hardly be subjected to the will
+of a single man, only to fill his particular breast with
+incommunicable content.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>These thoughts were often in his mind, and he found no
+solution of the difficulty.&nbsp; But as presents and civilities
+gained him more familiarity, he found that almost every man who
+stood high in his employment hated all the rest and was hated by
+them, and that their lives were a continual succession of plots
+and detections, stratagems and escapes, faction and
+treachery.&nbsp; Many of those who surrounded the Bassa were sent
+only to watch and <a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+95</span>report his conduct: every tongue was muttering censure,
+and every eye was searching for a fault.</p>
+<p>At last the letters of revocation arrived: the Bassa was
+carried in chains to Constantinople, and his name was mentioned
+no more.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What are we now to think of the prerogatives of
+power?&rdquo; said Rasselas to his sister: &ldquo;is it without
+efficacy to good, or is the subordinate degree only dangerous,
+and the supreme safe and glorious?&nbsp; Is the Sultan the only
+happy man in his dominions, or is the Sultan himself subject to
+the torments of suspicion and the dread of enemies?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>In a short time the second Bassa was deposed.&nbsp; The Sultan
+that had advanced him was murdered by the Janissaries, and his
+successor had other views or different favourites.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXV<br />
+THE PRINCESS PURSUES HER INQUIRY WITH MORE DILIGENCE THAN
+SUCCESS.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Princess in the meantime
+insinuated herself into many families; for there are few doors
+through which liberality, joined with good humour, cannot find
+its way.&nbsp; The daughters of many houses were airy and
+cheerful; but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to the
+conversation of Imlac and her brother to be much pleased with
+childish levity and prattle which had no meaning.&nbsp; She found
+their thoughts narrow, their wishes low, and their merriment
+often artificial.&nbsp; Their pleasures, poor as they were, could
+not be preserved pure, but were embittered by petty competitions
+and worthless emulation.&nbsp; They were always jealous of the
+beauty of each other, of a quality to which solicitude can add
+nothing, and from which detraction can take nothing away.&nbsp;
+Many were in love with triflers like themselves, and many fancied
+that they were in love when in truth they were only idle.&nbsp;
+Their affection was not fixed on sense or virtue, and therefore
+seldom ended but in vexation.&nbsp; Their grief, however, like
+their joy, was transient; everything floated in their mind
+unconnected with the past or future, so that one desire easily
+gave way to another, as a second stone, cast into the water,
+effaces and confounds the circles of the first.</p>
+<p>With these girls she played as with inoffensive animals, and
+found them proud of her countenance and weary of her company.</p>
+<p>But her purpose was to examine more deeply, and her affability
+easily persuaded the hearts that were swelling with sorrow to
+discharge their secrets in her ear, and those whom hope flattered
+or prosperity delighted often courted her to partake their
+pleasure.</p>
+<p>The Princess and her brother commonly met in the evening in a
+private summerhouse on the banks of the Nile, and related to each
+other the occurrences of the day.&nbsp; As they were sitting
+together the Princess cast her eyes upon the river that flowed
+before her.&nbsp; &ldquo;Answer,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;great
+father of waters, thou that rollest thy goods through eighty
+nations, to the invocations of the daughter of thy native
+king.&nbsp; Tell me if thou waterest through all thy course a
+single habitation from which thou dost not hear the murmurs of
+complaint.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You are then,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;not more
+successful in private houses than I have been in
+Courts.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;I have, since the last partition of
+our provinces,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;enabled myself to
+enter familiarly into many families, where there was the fairest
+show of prosperity and peace, and know not one house that is not
+haunted by some fury that destroys their quiet.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I did not seek ease among the poor, because I concluded
+that there it could not be found.&nbsp; But I saw many poor whom
+I had supposed to live in affluence.&nbsp; Poverty has in large
+cities very different appearances.&nbsp; It is often concealed in
+splendour and often in extravagance.&nbsp; It is the care of a
+very great part of mankind to conceal their indigence from the
+rest.&nbsp; They support themselves by temporary expedients, and
+every day is lost in contriving for the morrow.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This, however, was an evil which, though frequent, I
+saw with less pain, because I could relieve it.&nbsp; Yet some
+have refused my bounties; more offended with my quickness to
+detect their wants than pleased with my readiness to succour
+them; and others, whose exigencies compelled them to admit my
+kindness, have never been able to forgive their
+benefactress.&nbsp; Many, however, have been sincerely grateful
+without the ostentation of gratitude or the hope of other
+favours.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+99</span>CHAPTER XXVI<br />
+THE PRINCESS CONTINUES HER REMARKS UPON PRIVATE LIFE.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Nekayah</span>, perceiving her
+brother&rsquo;s attention fixed, proceeded in her narrative.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In families where there is or is not poverty there is
+commonly discord.&nbsp; If a kingdom be, as Imlac tells us, a
+great family, a family likewise is a little kingdom, torn with
+factions and exposed to revolutions.&nbsp; An unpractised
+observer expects the love of parents and children to be constant
+and equal.&nbsp; But this kindness seldom continues beyond the
+years of infancy; in a short time the children become rivals to
+their parents.&nbsp; Benefits are allowed by reproaches, and
+gratitude debased by envy.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Parents and children seldom act in concert; each child
+endeavours to appropriate the esteem or the fondness of the
+parents; and the parents, with yet less temptation, betray each
+other to their children.&nbsp; Thus, some place their confidence
+in the father and some in the mother, and by degrees the house is
+filled with artifices and feuds.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The opinions of children and parents, of the young and
+the old, are naturally opposite, by the contrary effects of hope
+and despondency, of expectation and experience, without crime or
+folly on either side.&nbsp; The colours of life in youth and age
+appear different, as the face of Nature in spring and
+winter.&nbsp; And how can children credit the assertions of
+parents which their own eyes show them to be false?</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Few parents act in such a manner as much to enforce
+their maxims by the credit of their lives.&nbsp; The old man
+trusts wholly to slow contrivance and gradual progression; the
+youth expects to force his way by genius, vigour, and
+precipitance.&nbsp; The old man pays regard to riches, and the
+youth reverences virtue.&nbsp; The old man deifies prudence; the
+youth commits himself to magnanimity and chance.&nbsp; The young
+man, who intends no ill, believes that none is intended, and
+therefore acts with openness and candour; but his father; having
+suffered the injuries of fraud, is impelled to suspect and too
+often allured to practise it.&nbsp; Age looks with anger on the
+temerity of youth, and youth with contempt on the scrupulosity of
+age.&nbsp; Thus parents and children for the greatest part live
+on to love less and less; and if those whom Nature has thus
+closely united are the torments of each other, where shall we
+look for tenderness and consolations?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;you must have
+been unfortunate in your choice of acquaintance.&nbsp; I am
+unwilling to believe that the most tender of all relations is
+thus impeded in its effects by natural necessity.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Domestic discord,&rdquo; answered she, &ldquo;is not
+inevitably and fatally necessary, but yet it is not easily
+avoided.&nbsp; We seldom see that a whole family is virtuous; the
+good and the evil cannot well agree, and the evil can yet less
+agree with one another.&nbsp; Even the virtuous fall sometimes to
+variance, when their virtues are of different kinds and tending
+to extremes.&nbsp; In general, those parents have most reverence
+who most deserve it, for he that lives well cannot be
+despised.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Many other evils infest private life.&nbsp; Some are
+the slaves of servants whom they have trusted with their
+affairs.&nbsp; Some are kept in continual anxiety by the caprice
+of rich relations, whom they cannot please and dare not
+offend.&nbsp; Some husbands are imperious and some wives
+perverse, and, as it is always more easy to do evil than good,
+though the wisdom or virtue of one can very rarely make many
+happy, the folly or vice of one makes many miserable.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If such be the general effect of marriage,&rdquo; said
+the Prince, &ldquo;I shall for the future think it dangerous to
+connect my interest with that of another, lest I should be
+unhappy by my partner&rsquo;s fault.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I have met,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;with many
+who live single for that reason, but I never found that their
+prudence ought to raise envy.&nbsp; They dream away their time
+without friendship, without fondness, and are driven to rid
+themselves of the day, for which they have no use, by childish
+amusements or vicious delights.&nbsp; They act as beings under
+the constant sense of some known inferiority that fills their
+minds with rancour and their tongues with censure.&nbsp; They are
+peevish at home and malevolent abroad, and, as the outlaws of
+human nature, make it their business and their pleasure to
+disturb that society which debars them from its privileges.&nbsp;
+To live without feeling or exciting sympathy, to be fortunate
+without adding to the felicity of others, or afflicted without
+tasting the balm of pity, is a state more gloomy than solitude;
+it is not retreat but exclusion from mankind.&nbsp; Marriage has
+many pains, but celibacy has no pleasures.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What then is to be done?&rdquo; said Rasselas.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;The more we inquire the less we can resolve.&nbsp; Surely
+he is most likely to please himself that has no other inclination
+to regard.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+103</span>CHAPTER XXVII<br />
+DISQUISITION UPON GREATNESS.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> conversation had a short
+pause.&nbsp; The Prince, having considered his sister&rsquo;s
+observation, told her that she had surveyed life with prejudice
+and supposed misery where she did not find it.&nbsp; &ldquo;Your
+narrative,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;throws yet a darker gloom upon
+the prospects of futurity.&nbsp; The predictions of Imlac were
+but faint sketches of the evils painted by Nekayah.&nbsp; I have
+been lately convinced that quiet is not the daughter of grandeur
+or of power; that her presence is not to be bought by wealth nor
+enforced by conquest.&nbsp; It is evident that as any man acts in
+a wider compass he must be more exposed to opposition from enmity
+or miscarriage from chance.&nbsp; Whoever has many to please or
+to govern must use the ministry of many agents, some of whom will
+be wicked and some ignorant, by some he will be misled and by
+others betrayed.&nbsp; If he gratifies one he will offend
+another; those that are not favoured will think themselves
+injured, and since favours can be conferred but upon few the
+greater number will be always discontented.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The discontent,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;which
+is thus unreasonable, I hope that I shall always have spirit to
+despise and you power to repress.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Discontent,&rdquo; answered Rasselas, &ldquo;will not
+always be without reason under the most just and vigilant
+administration of public affairs.&nbsp; None, however attentive,
+can always discover that merit which indigence or faction may
+happen to obscure, and none, however powerful, can always reward
+it.&nbsp; Yet he that sees inferior desert advanced above him
+will naturally impute that preference to partiality or caprice,
+and indeed it can scarcely be hoped that any man, however
+magnanimous by Nature or exalted by condition, will be able to
+persist for ever in fixed and inexorable justice of distribution;
+he will sometimes indulge his own affections and sometimes those
+of his favourites; he will permit some to please him who can
+never serve him; he will discover in those whom he loves
+qualities which in reality they do not possess, and to those from
+whom he receives pleasure he will in his turn endeavour to give
+it.&nbsp; Thus will recommendations sometimes prevail which were
+purchased by money or by the more destructive bribery of flattery
+and servility.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He that hath much to do will do something wrong, and of
+that wrong must suffer the consequences, and if it were possible
+that he should always act rightly, yet, when such numbers are to
+judge of his conduct, the bad will censure and obstruct him by
+malevolence and the good sometimes by mistake.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The highest stations cannot therefore hope to be the
+abodes of happiness, which I would willingly believe to have fled
+from thrones and palaces to seats of humble privacy and placid
+obscurity.&nbsp; For what can hinder the satisfaction or
+intercept the expectations of him whose abilities are adequate to
+his employments, who sees with his own eyes the whole circuit of
+his influence, who chooses by his own knowledge all whom he
+trusts, and whom none are tempted to deceive by hope or
+fear?&nbsp; Surely he has nothing to do but to love and to be
+loved; to be virtuous and to be happy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Whether perfect happiness would be procured by perfect
+goodness,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;this world will never
+afford an opportunity of deciding.&nbsp; But this, at least, may
+be maintained, that we do not always find visible happiness in
+proportion to visible virtue.&nbsp; All natural and almost all
+political evils are incident alike to the bad and good; they are
+confounded in the misery of a famine, and not much distinguished
+in the fury of a faction; they <a name="page106"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 106</span>sink together in a tempest and are
+driven together from their country by invaders.&nbsp; All that
+virtue can afford is quietness of conscience and a steady
+prospect of a happier state; this may enable us to endure
+calamity with patience, but remember that patience must oppose
+pain.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII<br />
+RASSELAS AND NEKAYAH CONTINUE THEIR CONVERSATION.</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Dear</span> Princess,&rdquo; said
+Rasselas, &ldquo;you fall into the common errors of exaggeratory
+declamation, by producing in a familiar disquisition examples of
+national calamities and scenes of extensive misery which are
+found in books rather than in the world, and which, as they are
+horrid, are ordained to be rare.&nbsp; Let us not imagine evils
+which we do not feel, nor injure life by
+misrepresentations.&nbsp; I cannot bear that querulous eloquence
+which threatens every city with a siege like that of Jerusalem,
+that makes famine attend on every flight of locust, and suspends
+pestilence on the wing of every blast that issues from the
+south.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;On necessary and inevitable evils which overwhelm
+kingdoms at once all disputation is vain; when they happen they
+must be endured.&nbsp; But it is evident that these bursts of
+universal distress are more dreaded than felt; thousands and tens
+of thousands flourish in youth and wither in age, without the
+knowledge of any other than domestic evils, and share the same
+pleasures and vexations, whether their kings are mild or cruel,
+whether the armies of their country pursue their enemies or
+retreat before them.&nbsp; While Courts are disturbed with
+intestine competitions and ambassadors are negotiating in foreign
+countries, the smith still plies his anvil and the husbandman
+drives his plough forward; the necessaries of life are required
+and obtained, and the successive business of the season continues
+to make its wonted revolutions.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Let us cease to consider what perhaps may never happen,
+and what, when it shall happen, will laugh at human
+speculation.&nbsp; We will not endeavour to modify the motions of
+the elements or to fix the destiny of kingdoms.&nbsp; It is our
+business to consider what beings like us may perform, each
+labouring for his own happiness by promoting within his circle,
+however narrow, the happiness of others.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Marriage is evidently the dictate of Nature; men and
+women were made to be the companions of each other, and therefore
+I cannot be persuaded but that marriage is one of the means of
+happiness.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;whether
+marriage be more than one of the innumerable modes of human
+misery.&nbsp; When I see and reckon the various forms of
+connubial infelicity, the unexpected causes of lasting discord,
+the diversities of temper, the oppositions of opinion, the rude
+collisions of contrary desire where both are urged by violent
+impulses, the obstinate contest of disagreeing virtues where both
+are supported by consciousness of good intention, I am sometimes
+disposed to think, with the severer casuists of most nations,
+that marriage is rather permitted than approved, and that none,
+but by the instigation of a passion too much indulged, entangle
+themselves with indissoluble compact.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You seem to forget,&rdquo; replied Rasselas,
+&ldquo;that you have, even now represented celibacy as less happy
+than marriage.&nbsp; Both conditions may be bad, but they cannot
+both be worse.&nbsp; Thus it happens, when wrong opinions are
+entertained, that they mutually destroy each other and leave the
+mind open to truth.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I did not expect,&rdquo; answered, the Princess,
+&ldquo;to hear that imputed to falsehood which is the consequence
+only of frailty.&nbsp; To the mind, as to the eye, it is
+difficult to compare with exactness objects vast in their extent
+and various in their parts.&nbsp; When we see or conceive the
+whole at once, we readily note the discriminations and decide the
+preference, but of two systems, of which neither can be surveyed
+by any human being in its full compass of magnitude and
+multiplicity of complication, where is the wonder that, judging
+of the whole by parts, I am alternately affected by one and the
+other as either presses on my memory or fancy?&nbsp; We differ
+from ourselves just as we differ from each other when we see only
+part of the question, as in the multifarious relations of
+politics and morality, but when we perceive the whole at once, as
+in numerical computations, all agree in one judgment, and none
+ever varies in his opinion.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Let us not add,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;to the
+other evils of life the bitterness of controversy, nor endeavour
+to vie with each other in subtilties of argument.&nbsp; We are
+employed in a search of which both are equally to enjoy the
+success or suffer by the miscarriage; it is therefore fit that we
+assist each other.&nbsp; You surely conclude too hastily from the
+infelicity of marriage against its institution; <a
+name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 110</span>will not
+the misery of life prove equally that life cannot be the gift of
+Heaven?&nbsp; The world must be peopled by marriage or peopled
+without it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How the world is to be peopled,&rdquo; returned
+Nekayah, &ldquo;is not my care and need not be yours.&nbsp; I see
+no danger that the present generation should omit to leave
+successors behind them; we are not now inquiring for the world,
+but for ourselves.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIX<br />
+THE DEBATE ON MARRIAGE (<i>continued</i>).</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">The</span> good of the
+whole,&rdquo; says Rasselas, &ldquo;is the same with the good of
+all its parts.&nbsp; If marriage be best for mankind, it must be
+evidently best for individuals; or a permanent and necessary duty
+must be the cause of evil, and some must be inevitably sacrificed
+to the convenience of others.&nbsp; In the estimate which you
+have made of the two states, it appears that the incommodities of
+a single life are in a great measure necessary and certain, but
+those of the conjugal state accidental and avoidable.&nbsp; I
+cannot forbear to flatter myself that prudence and benevolence
+will make marriage happy.&nbsp; The general folly of mankind is
+the cause of general complaint.&nbsp; What can be expected but
+disappointment and repentance from a choice made in the
+immaturity of youth, in the ardour of desire, without judgment,
+without foresight, without inquiry after conformity of opinions,
+similarity of manners, rectitude of judgment, or purity of
+sentiment?</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Such is the common process of marriage.&nbsp; A youth
+and maiden, meeting by chance or brought together by artifice,
+exchange glances, reciprocate civilities, go home and dream of
+one another.&nbsp; Having little to divert attention or diversify
+thought, they find themselves uneasy when they are apart, and
+therefore conclude that they shall be happy together.&nbsp; They
+marry, and discover what nothing but voluntary blindness before
+had concealed; they wear out life in altercations, and charge
+Nature with cruelty.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;From those early marriages proceeds likewise the
+rivalry of parents and children: the son is eager to enjoy the
+world before the father is willing to forsake it, and there is
+hardly room at once for two generations.&nbsp; The daughter
+begins to bloom before the mother can be content to fade, and
+neither can forbear to wish for the absence of the other.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Surely all these evils may be avoided by that
+deliberation and delay which prudence prescribes to irrevocable
+choice.&nbsp; In the variety and jollity of youthful pleasures,
+life may be well enough supported without the help of a
+partner.&nbsp; Longer time will increase experience, and wider
+views will allow better opportunities of inquiry and selection;
+one advantage at least will be certain, the parents will be
+visibly older than their children.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;What reason cannot collect,&rdquo; said Nekayah,
+&ldquo;and what experiment has not yet taught, can be known only
+from the report of others.&nbsp; I have been told that late
+marriages are not eminently happy.&nbsp; This is a question too
+important to be neglected; and I have often proposed it to those
+whose accuracy of remark and comprehensiveness of knowledge made
+their suffrages worthy of regard.&nbsp; They have generally
+determined that it is dangerous for a man and woman to suspend
+their fate upon each other at a time when opinions are fixed and
+habits are established, when friendships have been contracted on
+both sides, when life has been planned into method, and the mind
+has long enjoyed the contemplation of its own prospects.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is scarcely possible that two travelling through the
+world under the conduct of chance should have been both directed
+to the same path, and it will not often happen that either will
+quit the track which custom has made pleasing.&nbsp; When the
+desultory levity of youth has settled into regularity, it is soon
+succeeded by pride ashamed to yield, or obstinacy delighting to
+contend.&nbsp; And even though mutual esteem produces mutual
+desire to please, time itself, as it modifies unchangeably the
+external mien, determines likewise the direction of the passions,
+and gives an inflexible rigidity to the manners.&nbsp; Long
+customs are not easily broken; he that attempts to change the
+course of his own life very often labours in vain, and how shall
+we do that for others which we are seldom able to do for
+ourselves?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But surely,&rdquo; interposed the Prince, &ldquo;you
+suppose the chief motive of choice forgotten or neglected.&nbsp;
+Whenever I shall seek a wife, it shall be my first question
+whether she be willing to be led by reason.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Thus it is,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;that
+philosophers are deceived.&nbsp; There are a thousand familiar
+disputes which reason never can decide; questions that elude
+investigation, and make logic ridiculous; cases where something
+must be done, and where little can be said.&nbsp; Consider the
+state of mankind, and inquire how few can be supposed to act upon
+any occasions, whether small or great, with all the reasons of
+action present to their minds.&nbsp; Wretched would be the pair,
+above all names of wretchedness, who should be doomed to adjust
+by reason every morning all the minute details of a domestic
+day.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Those who marry at an advanced age will probably escape
+the encroachments of their children, but in the diminution of
+this advantage they will be likely to leave them, ignorant and
+helpless, to a guardian&rsquo;s mercy; or if that should not
+happen, they must at least go out of the world before they see
+those whom they love best either wise or great.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;From their children, if they have less to fear, they
+have less also to hope; and they lose without equivalent the joys
+of early love, and the convenience of uniting with manners pliant
+and minds susceptible of new impressions, which might wear away
+their dissimilitudes by long cohabitation, as soft bodies by
+continual attrition conform their surfaces to each other.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I believe it will be found that those who marry late
+are best pleased with their children, and those who marry early
+with their partners.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The union of these two affections,&rdquo; said
+Rasselas, &ldquo;would produce all that could be wished.&nbsp;
+Perhaps there is a time when marriage might unite them&mdash;a
+time neither too early for the father nor too late for the
+husband.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Every hour,&rdquo; answered the Princess,
+&ldquo;confirms my prejudice in favour of the position so often
+uttered by the mouth of Imlac, that &lsquo;Nature sets her gifts
+on the right hand and on the left.&rsquo;&nbsp; Those conditions
+which flatter hope and attract desire are so constituted that as
+we approach one we recede from another.&nbsp; There are goods so
+opposed that we cannot seize both, but by too much prudence may
+pass between them at too great a distance to reach either.&nbsp;
+This is often the fate of long consideration; he does nothing who
+endeavours to do more than is allowed to humanity.&nbsp; Flatter
+not yourself with contrarieties of pleasure.&nbsp; Of the
+blessings set before you make your choice, and be content.&nbsp;
+No man can taste the fruits of autumn while he is delighting his
+scent with the flowers of the spring; no man can at the same time
+fill his cup from the source and from the mouth of the
+Nile.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+116</span>CHAPTER XXX<br />
+IMLAC ENTERS, AND CHANGES THE CONVERSATION.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Here</span> Imlac entered, and interrupted
+them.&nbsp; &ldquo;Imlac,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;I have
+been taking from the Princess the dismal history of private life,
+and am almost discouraged from further search.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It seems to me,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;that while
+you are making the choice of life you neglect to live.&nbsp; You
+wander about a single city, which, however large and diversified,
+can now afford few novelties, and forget that you are in a
+country famous among the earliest monarchies for the power and
+wisdom of its inhabitants&mdash;a country where the sciences
+first dawned that illuminate the world, and beyond which the arts
+cannot be traced of civil society or domestic life.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The old Egyptians have left behind them monuments of
+industry and power before which all European magnificence is
+confessed to fade away.&nbsp; The ruins of their architecture are
+the schools of modern builders; and from the wonders which time
+has spared we may conjecture, though uncertainly, what it has
+destroyed.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My curiosity,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;does not
+very strongly lead me to survey piles of stone or mounds of
+earth.&nbsp; My business is with man.&nbsp; I came hither not to
+measure fragments of temples or trace choked aqueducts, but to
+look upon the various scenes of the present world.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The things that are now before us,&rdquo; said the
+Princess, &ldquo;require attention, and deserve it.&nbsp; What
+have I to do with the heroes or the monuments of ancient
+times&mdash;with times which can never return, and heroes whose
+form of life was different from all that the present condition of
+mankind requires or allows?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To know anything,&rdquo; returned the poet, &ldquo;we
+must know its effects; to see men, we must see their works, that
+we may learn what reason has dictated or passion has excited, and
+find what are the most powerful motives of action.&nbsp; To judge
+rightly of the present, we must oppose it to the past; for all
+judgment is comparative, and of the future nothing can be
+known.&nbsp; The truth is that no mind is much employed upon the
+present; recollection and anticipation fill up almost all our
+moments.&nbsp; Our passions are joy and grief, love and hatred,
+hope and fear.&nbsp; Of joy and grief, the past is the object,
+and the future of hope and fear; even love and hatred respect the
+past, for the cause must have been before the effect.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The present state of things is the consequence of the
+former; and it is natural to inquire what were the sources of the
+good that we enjoy, or the evils that we suffer.&nbsp; If we act
+only for ourselves, to neglect the study of history is not
+prudent.&nbsp; If we are entrusted with the care of others, it is
+not just.&nbsp; Ignorance, when it is voluntary, is criminal; and
+he may properly be charged with evil who refused to learn how he
+might prevent it.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There is no part of history so generally useful as that
+which relates to the progress of the human mind, the gradual
+improvement of reason, the successive advances of science, the
+vicissitudes of learning and ignorance (which are the light and
+darkness of thinking beings), the extinction and resuscitation of
+arts, and the revolutions of the intellectual world.&nbsp; If
+accounts of battles and invasions are peculiarly the business of
+princes, the useful or elegant arts are not to be neglected;
+those who have kingdoms to govern have understandings to
+cultivate.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Example is always more efficacious than precept.&nbsp;
+A soldier is formed in war, and a painter must copy
+pictures.&nbsp; In this, contemplative life has the
+advantage.&nbsp; Great actions are seldom seen, but the labours
+of art are always at hand for those who desire to know what art
+has been able to perform.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When the eye or the imagination is struck with any
+uncommon work, the next transition of an active mind is to the
+means by which it was performed.&nbsp; Here begins the true use
+of such contemplation.&nbsp; We enlarge our comprehension by new
+ideas, and perhaps recover some art lost to mankind, or learn
+what is less perfectly known in our own country.&nbsp; At least
+we compare our own with former times, and either rejoice at our
+improvements, or, what is the first motion towards good, discover
+our defects.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am willing,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;to see all
+that can deserve my search.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And I,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;shall rejoice
+to learn something of the manners of antiquity.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The most pompous monument of Egyptian greatness, and
+one of the most bulky works of manual industry,&rdquo; said
+Imlac, &ldquo;are the Pyramids: fabrics raised before the time of
+history, and of which the earliest narratives afford us only
+uncertain traditions.&nbsp; Of these the greatest is still
+standing, very little injured by time.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><a name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+120</span>&ldquo;Let us visit them to-morrow,&rdquo; said
+Nekayah.&nbsp; &ldquo;I have often heard of the Pyramids, and
+shall not rest till I have seen them, within and without, with my
+own eyes.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXI<br />
+THEY VISIT THE PYRAMIDS.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> resolution being thus taken,
+they set out the next day.&nbsp; They laid tents upon their
+camels, being resolved to stay among the Pyramids till their
+curiosity was fully satisfied.&nbsp; They travelled gently,
+turned aside to everything remarkable, stopped from time to time
+and conversed with the inhabitants, and observed the various
+appearances of towns ruined and inhabited, of wild and cultivated
+nature.</p>
+<p>When they came to the Great Pyramid they were astonished at
+the extent of the base and the height of the top.&nbsp; Imlac
+explained to them the principles upon which the pyramidal form
+was chosen for a fabric intended to co-extend its duration with
+that of the world: he showed that its gradual diminution gave it
+such stability as defeated all the common attacks of the
+elements, and could scarcely be overthrown by earthquakes
+themselves, the least resistible of natural violence.&nbsp; A
+concussion that should shatter the pyramid would threaten the
+dissolution of the continent.</p>
+<p>They measured all its dimensions, and pitched their tents at
+its foot.&nbsp; Next day they prepared to enter its interior
+apartments, and having hired the common guides, climbed up to the
+first passage; when the favourite of the Princess, looking into
+the cavity, stepped back and trembled.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Pekuah,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;of what art thou
+afraid?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Of the narrow entrance,&rdquo; answered the lady,
+&ldquo;and of the dreadful gloom.&nbsp; I dare not enter a place
+which must surely be inhabited by unquiet souls.&nbsp; The
+original possessors of these dreadful vaults will start up before
+us, and perhaps shut us in for ever.&rdquo;&nbsp; She spoke, and
+threw her arms round the neck of her mistress.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If all your fear be of apparitions,&rdquo; said the
+Prince, &ldquo;I will promise you safety.&nbsp; There is no
+danger from the dead: he that is once buried will be seen no
+more.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That the dead are seen no more,&rdquo; said Imlac,
+&ldquo;I will not undertake to maintain against the concurrent
+and unvaried testimony of all ages and of all nations.&nbsp;
+There is no people, rude or learned, among whom apparitions of
+the dead are not related and believed.&nbsp; This opinion, which
+perhaps prevails as far as human nature is diffused, could become
+universal only by its truth: those that never heard of one
+another would not have agreed in a tale which nothing but
+experience can make credible.&nbsp; That it is doubted by single
+cavillers can very little weaken the general evidence, and some
+who deny it with their tongues confess it by their fears.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yet I do not mean to add new terrors to those which
+have already seized upon Pekuah.&nbsp; There can be no reason why
+spectres should haunt the Pyramid more than other places, or why
+they should have power or will to hurt innocence and
+purity.&nbsp; Our entrance is no violation of their privileges:
+we can take nothing from them; how, then, can we offend
+them?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Pekuah,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;I will
+always go before you, and Imlac shall follow you.&nbsp; Remember
+that you are the companion of the Princess of
+Abyssinia.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;If the Princess is pleased that her servant should
+die,&rdquo; returned the lady, &ldquo;let her command some death
+less dreadful than enclosure in this horrid cavern.&nbsp; You
+know I dare not disobey you&mdash;<a name="page123"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 123</span>I must go if you command me; but if
+I once enter, I never shall come back.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Princess saw that her fear was too strong for
+expostulation or reproof, and, embracing her, told her that she
+should stay in the tent till their return.&nbsp; Pekuah was not
+yet satisfied, but entreated the Princess not to pursue so
+dreadful a purpose as that of entering the recesses of the
+Pyramids.&nbsp; &ldquo;Though I cannot teach courage,&rdquo; said
+Nekayah, &ldquo;I must not learn cowardice, nor leave at last
+undone what I came hither only to do.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXII<br />
+THEY ENTER THE PYRAMID.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Pekuah</span> descended to the tents, and
+the rest entered the Pyramid.&nbsp; They passed through the
+galleries, surveyed the vaults of marble, and examined the chest
+in which the body of the founder is supposed to have been
+deposited.&nbsp; They then sat down in one of the most spacious
+chambers to rest awhile before they attempted to return.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We have now,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;gratified our
+minds with an exact view of the greatest work of man, except the
+wall of China.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Of the wall it is very easy to assign the motive.&nbsp;
+It secured a wealthy and timorous nation from the incursions of
+barbarians, whose unskilfulness in the arts made it easier for
+them to supply their wants by rapine than by industry, and who
+from time to time poured in upon the inhabitants of peaceful
+commerce as vultures descend upon domestic fowl.&nbsp; Their
+celerity and fierceness made the wall necessary, and their
+ignorance made it efficacious.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But for the Pyramids, no reason has ever been given
+adequate to the cost and labour of the work.&nbsp; The narrowness
+of the chambers proves that it could afford no retreat from
+enemies, and treasures might have been reposited at far less
+expense with equal security.&nbsp; It seems to have been erected
+only in compliance with that hunger of imagination which preys
+incessantly upon life, and must be always appeased by some
+employment.&nbsp; Those who have already all that they can enjoy
+must enlarge their desires.&nbsp; He that has built for use till
+use is supplied must begin to build for vanity, and extend his
+plan to the utmost power of human performance that he may not be
+soon reduced to form another wish.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I consider this mighty structure as a monument of the
+insufficiency of human enjoyments.&nbsp; A king <a
+name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 125</span>whose power
+is unlimited, and whose treasures surmount all real and imaginary
+wants, is compelled to solace, by the erection of a pyramid, the
+satiety of dominion and tastelessness of pleasures, and to amuse
+the tediousness of declining life by seeing thousands labouring
+without end, and one stone, for no purpose, laid upon
+another.&nbsp; Whoever thou art that, not content with a moderate
+condition, imaginest happiness in royal magnificence, and
+dreamest that command or riches can feed the appetite of novelty
+with perpetual gratifications, survey the Pyramids, and confess
+thy folly!&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII<br />
+THE PRINCESS MEETS WITH AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">They</span> rose up, and returned through
+the cavity at which they had entered; and the Princess prepared
+for her favourite a long narrative of dark labyrinths and costly
+rooms, and of the different impressions which the varieties of
+the way had made upon her.&nbsp; But when they came to their
+train, they found every one silent and dejected: the men
+discovered shame and fear in their countenances, and the women
+were weeping in their tents.</p>
+<p>What had happened they did not try to conjecture, but
+immediately inquired.&nbsp; &ldquo;You had scarcely entered into
+the Pyramid,&rdquo; said one of the attendants, &ldquo;when a
+troop of Arabs rushed upon us: we were too few to resist them,
+and too slow to escape.&nbsp; They were about to search the
+tents, set us on our camels, and drive us along before them, when
+the approach of some Turkish horsemen put them to flight: but
+they seized the Lady Pekuah with her two maids, and carried them
+away: the Turks are now pursuing them by our instigation, but I
+fear they will not be able to overtake them.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Princess was overpowered with surprise and grief.&nbsp;
+Rasselas, in the first heat of his resentment, ordered his
+servants to follow him, and prepared to pursue the robbers with
+his sabre in his hand.&nbsp; &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Imlac,
+&ldquo;what can you hope from violence or valour?&nbsp; The Arabs
+are mounted on horses trained to battle and retreat; we have only
+beasts of burden.&nbsp; By leaving our present station we may
+lose the Princess, but cannot hope to regain Pekuah.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>In a short time the Turks returned, having not been able to
+reach the enemy.&nbsp; The Princess burst <a
+name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 127</span>out into
+new lamentations, and Rasselas could scarcely forbear to reproach
+them with cowardice; but Imlac was of opinion that the escape of
+the Arabs was no addition to their misfortune, for perhaps they
+would have killed their captives rather than have resigned
+them.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV<br />
+THEY RETURN TO CAIRO WITHOUT PEKUAH.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was nothing to be hoped from
+longer stay.&nbsp; They returned to Cairo, repenting of their
+curiosity, censuring the negligence of the government, lamenting
+their own rashness, which had neglected to procure a guard,
+imagining many expedients by which the loss of Pekuah might have
+been prevented, and resolving to do something for her recovery,
+though none could find anything proper to be done.</p>
+<p>Nekayah retired to her chamber, where her women attempted to
+comfort her by telling her that all had their troubles, and that
+Lady Pekuah had enjoyed much happiness in the world for a long
+time, and might reasonably expect a change of fortune.&nbsp; They
+hoped that some good would befall her wheresoever she was, and
+that their mistress would find another friend who might supply
+her place.</p>
+<p>The Princess made them no answer; and they continued the form
+of condolence, not much grieved in their hearts that the
+favourite was lost.</p>
+<p>Next day the Prince presented to the Bassa a memorial of the
+wrong which he had suffered, and a petition for redress.&nbsp;
+The Bassa threatened to punish the robbers, but did not attempt
+to catch them; nor indeed could any account or description be
+given by which he might direct the pursuit.</p>
+<p>It soon appeared that nothing would be done by
+authority.&nbsp; Governors being accustomed to hear of more
+crimes than they can punish, and more wrongs than they can
+redress, set themselves at ease by indiscriminate negligence, and
+presently forget the request when they lose sight of the
+petitioner.</p>
+<p>Imlac then endeavoured to gain some intelligence by private
+agents.&nbsp; He found many who pretended to an exact knowledge
+of all the haunts of the Arabs, and to regular correspondence
+with their chiefs, and who readily undertook the recovery of
+Pekuah.&nbsp; Of these, some were furnished with money for their
+journey, and came back no more; some were liberally paid for
+accounts which a few days discovered to be false.&nbsp; But the
+Princess would not suffer any means, however improbable, to be
+left untried.&nbsp; While she was doing something, she kept her
+hope alive.&nbsp; As one expedient failed, another was suggested;
+when one messenger returned unsuccessful, another was despatched
+to a different quarter.</p>
+<p>Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been
+heard; the hopes which they had endeavoured to raise in each
+other grew more languid; and the Princess, when she saw nothing
+more to be tried, sunk down inconsolable in hopeless
+dejection.&nbsp; A thousand times she reproached herself with the
+easy compliance by which she permitted her favourite to stay
+behind her.&nbsp; &ldquo;Had not my fondness,&rdquo; said she,
+&ldquo;lessened my authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of her
+terrors.&nbsp; She ought to have feared me more than
+spectres.&nbsp; A severe look would have overpowered her; a
+peremptory command would have compelled obedience.&nbsp; Why did
+foolish indulgence prevail upon me?&nbsp; Why did I not speak,
+and refuse to hear?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Great Princess,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;do not
+reproach yourself for your virtue, or consider that as blameable
+by which evil has accidentally been caused.&nbsp; Your tenderness
+for the timidity of Pekuah was generous and kind.&nbsp; When we
+act according to our duty, we commit the events to Him by whose
+laws our actions are governed, and who will suffer none to be
+finally punished for obedience.&nbsp; When, in prospect of some
+good, whether natural or moral, we break the rules prescribed us,
+we withdraw from the direction of superior wisdom, and take all
+consequences upon ourselves.&nbsp; Man cannot so far know the
+connection of causes and events as that he may venture to do
+wrong in order to do right.&nbsp; When we pursue our end by
+lawful means, we may always console our miscarriage by the hope
+of future recompense.&nbsp; When we consult only our own policy,
+and attempt to find a nearer way to good by over-leaping the
+settled boundaries of right and wrong, we cannot be happy even by
+success, because we cannot escape the consciousness of our fault;
+but if we miscarry, the disappointment is irremediably
+embittered.&nbsp; How comfortless is the sorrow of him who feels
+at once the pangs of guilt and the vexation of calamity which
+guilt has brought upon him!</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Consider, Princess, what would have been your condition
+if the Lady Pekuah had entreated to accompany you, and, being
+compelled to stay in the tents, had been carried away; or how
+would you have borne the thought if you had forced her <a
+name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 131</span>into the
+Pyramid, and she had died before you in agonies of
+terror?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Had either happened,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;I
+could not have endured life till now; I should have been tortured
+to madness by the remembrance of such cruelty, or must have pined
+away in abhorrence of myself.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This, at least,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is the
+present reward of virtuous conduct, that no unlucky consequence
+can oblige us to repent it.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXV<br />
+THE PRINCESS LANGUISHES FOR WANT OF PEKUAH.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Nekayah</span>, being thus reconciled to
+herself, found that no evil is insupportable but that which is
+accompanied with consciousness of wrong.&nbsp; She was from that
+time delivered from the violence of tempestuous sorrow, and sunk
+into silent pensiveness and gloomy tranquillity.&nbsp; She sat
+from morning to evening recollecting all that had been done or
+said by her Pekuah, treasured up with care every trifle on which
+Pekuah had set an accidental value, and which might recall to
+mind any little incident or careless conversation.&nbsp; The
+sentiments of her whom she now expected to see no more were
+treasured in her memory as rules of life, and she deliberated to
+no other end than to conjecture on any occasion what would have
+been the opinion and counsel of Pekuah.</p>
+<p>The women by whom she was attended knew nothing of her real
+condition, and therefore she could not talk to them but with
+caution and reserve.&nbsp; She began to remit her curiosity,
+having no great desire to collect notions which she had no
+convenience of uttering.&nbsp; Rasselas endeavoured first to
+comfort and afterwards to divert her; he hired musicians, to whom
+she seemed to listen, but did not hear them; and procured masters
+to instruct her in various arts, whose lectures, when they
+visited her again, were again to be repeated.&nbsp; She had lost
+her taste of pleasure and her ambition of excellence; and her
+mind, though forced into short excursions, always recurred to the
+image of her friend.</p>
+<p>Imlac was every morning earnestly enjoined to renew his
+inquiries, and was asked every night whether he had yet heard of
+Pekuah; till, not being able to return the Princess the answer
+that she desired, he was less and less willing to come into her
+presence.&nbsp; She observed his backwardness, and commanded him
+to attend her.&nbsp;&nbsp; &ldquo;You are not,&rdquo; said she,
+&ldquo;to confound impatience with resentment, or to suppose that
+I charge you with negligence because I repine at your
+unsuccessfulness.&nbsp; I do not much wonder at your
+absence.&nbsp; I know that the unhappy are never pleasing, and
+that all naturally avoid the contagion of misery.&nbsp; To hear
+complaints is wearisome alike to the wretched and the happy; for
+who would cloud by adventitious grief the short gleams of gaiety
+which life allows us, or who that is struggling under his own
+evils will add to them the miseries of another?</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The time is at hand when none shall be disturbed any
+longer by the sighs of Nekayah: my search after happiness is now
+at an end.&nbsp; I am resolved to retire from the world, with all
+its flatteries and deceits, and will hide myself in solitude,
+without any other care than to compose my thoughts and regulate
+my hours by a constant succession of innocent occupations, till,
+with a mind purified from earthly desires, I shall enter into
+that state to which all are hastening, and in which I hope again
+to enjoy the friendship of Pekuah.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do not entangle your mind,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;by
+irrevocable determinations, nor increase the burden of life by a
+voluntary accumulation of misery.&nbsp; The weariness of
+retirement will continue to increase when the loss of Pekuah is
+forgot.&nbsp; That you have been deprived of one pleasure is no
+very good reason for rejection of the rest.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Since Pekuah was taken from me,&rdquo; said the
+Princess, &ldquo;I have no pleasure to reject or to retain.&nbsp;
+She that has no one to love or trust has little to hope.&nbsp;
+She wants the radical principle of happiness.&nbsp; We may
+perhaps allow that what satisfaction this world can afford must
+arise from the conjunction of wealth, knowledge, and
+goodness.&nbsp; Wealth is nothing but as it is bestowed, and
+knowledge nothing but as it is communicated.&nbsp; They must
+therefore be imparted to others, and to whom could I now delight
+to impart them?&nbsp; Goodness affords the only comfort which can
+be enjoyed without a partner, and goodness may be practised in
+retirement.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How far solitude may admit goodness or advance it, I
+shall not,&rdquo; replied Imlac, &ldquo;dispute at present.&nbsp;
+Remember the confession of the pious hermit.&nbsp; You will wish
+to return into the world when the image of your companion has
+left your thoughts.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;That time,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;will never
+come.&nbsp; The generous frankness, the modest obsequiousness,
+and the faithful secrecy of my dear Pekuah will always be more
+missed as I shall live longer to see vice and folly.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The state of a mind oppressed with a sudden
+calamity,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is like that of the fabulous
+inhabitants of the new-created earth, who, when the first night
+came upon them, supposed that day would never return.&nbsp; When
+the clouds of sorrow gather over us, we see nothing beyond them,
+nor can imagine how they will be dispelled; yet a new day
+succeeded to the night, and sorrow is never long without a dawn
+of ease.&nbsp; But they who restrain themselves from receiving
+comfort do as the savages would have done had they put out their
+eyes when it was dark.&nbsp; Our minds, like our bodies, are in
+continual flux; something is hourly lost, and something
+acquired.&nbsp; To lose much at once is inconvenient to either,
+but while the vital power remains uninjured, nature will find the
+means of reparation.&nbsp; Distance has the same effect on the
+mind as on the eye; and while we glide along the stream of time,
+whatever we leave behind us is always lessening, and that which
+we approach increasing in magnitude.&nbsp; Do not suffer life to
+<a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+136</span>stagnate: it will grow muddy for want of motion; commit
+yourself again to the current of the world; Pekuah will vanish by
+degrees; you will meet in your way some other favourite, or learn
+to diffuse yourself in general conversation.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;At least,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;do not despair
+before all remedies have been tried.&nbsp; The inquiry after the
+unfortunate lady is still continued, and shall be carried on with
+yet greater diligence, on condition that you will promise to wait
+a year for the event, without any unalterable
+resolution.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise
+to her brother, who had been obliged by Imlac to require
+it.&nbsp; Imlac had, indeed, no great hope of regaining Pekuah;
+but he supposed that if he could secure the interval of a year,
+the Princess would be then in no danger of a cloister.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI<br />
+PEKUAH IS STILL REMEMBERED.&nbsp; THE PROGRESS OF SORROW.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Nekayah</span>, seeing that nothing was
+omitted for the recovery of her favourite, and having by her
+promise set her intention of retirement at a distance, began
+imperceptibly to return to common cares and common
+pleasures.&nbsp; She rejoiced without her own consent at the
+suspension of her sorrows, and sometimes caught herself with
+indignation in the act of turning away her mind from the
+remembrance of her whom yet she resolved never to forget.</p>
+<p>She then appointed a certain hour of the day for meditation on
+the merits and fondness of Pekuah, and for some weeks retired
+constantly at the time fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen
+and her countenance clouded.&nbsp; By degrees she grew less
+scrupulous, and suffered any important and pressing avocation to
+delay the tribute of daily tears.&nbsp; She then yielded to less
+occasions, and sometimes forgot what she was indeed afraid to
+remember, and at last wholly released herself from the duty of
+periodical affliction.</p>
+<p>Her real love of Pekuah was not yet diminished.&nbsp; A
+thousand occurrences brought her back to memory, and a thousand
+wants, which nothing but the confidence of friendship can supply,
+made her frequently regretted.&nbsp; She therefore solicited
+Imlac never to desist from inquiry, and to leave no art of
+intelligence untried, that at least she might have the comfort of
+knowing that she did not suffer by <a name="page138"></a><span
+class="pagenum">p. 138</span>negligence or sluggishness.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Yet what,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;is to be expected from
+our pursuit of happiness, when we find the state of life to be
+such that happiness itself is the cause of misery?&nbsp; Why
+should we endeavour to attain that of which the possession cannot
+be secured?&nbsp; I shall henceforward fear to yield my heart to
+excellence, however bright, or to fondness, however tender, lest
+I should lose again what I have lost in Pekuah.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII<br />
+THE PRINCESS HEARS NEWS OF PEKUAH.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">In</span> seven mouths one of the
+messengers who had been sent away upon the day when the promise
+was drawn from the Princess, returned, after many unsuccessful
+rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with an account that Pekuah
+was in the hands of an Arab chief, who possessed a castle or
+fortress on the extremity of Egypt.&nbsp; The Arab, whose revenue
+was plunder, was willing to restore her, with her two attendants,
+for two hundred ounces of gold.</p>
+<p>The price was no subject of debate.&nbsp; The Princess was in
+ecstasies when she heard that her favourite was alive, and might
+so cheaply be ransomed.&nbsp; She could not think of delaying for
+a moment Pekuah&rsquo;s happiness or her own, but entreated her
+brother to send back the messenger with the sum required.&nbsp;
+Imlac, being consulted, was not very confident of the veracity of
+the relater, and was still more doubtful of the Arab&rsquo;s
+faith, who might, if he were too liberally trusted, detain at
+once the money and the captives.&nbsp; He thought it dangerous to
+put themselves in the power of the Arab by going into his
+district; and could not expect that the rover would so much
+expose himself as to come into the lower country, where he might
+be seized by the forces of the Bassa.</p>
+<p>It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust.&nbsp;
+But Imlac, after some deliberation, directed the messenger to
+propose that Pekuah should be conducted by ten horsemen to the
+monastery of St. Anthony, which is situated in the deserts of
+Upper Egypt, where she should be met by the same number, and her
+ransom should be paid.</p>
+<p>That no time might be lost, as they expected that the proposal
+would not be refused, they immediately began their journey to the
+monastery; and when they arrived, Imlac went forward with the
+former messenger to the Arab&rsquo;s fortress.&nbsp; Rasselas was
+desirous to go with them; but neither his sister nor Imlac would
+consent.&nbsp; The Arab, according to the custom of his nation,
+observed the laws of hospitality with great exactness to those
+who put themselves into his power, and in a few days brought
+Pekuah, with her maids, by easy journeys, to the place appointed,
+where, receiving the stipulated price, he restored her, with
+great respect, to liberty and her friends, and undertook to
+conduct them back towards Cairo beyond all danger of robbery or
+violence.</p>
+<p>The Princess and her favourite embraced each other with
+transport too violent to be expressed, and went out together to
+pour the tears of tenderness in secret, and exchange professions
+of kindness and gratitude.&nbsp; After a few hours they returned
+into the refectory of the convent, where, in the presence of the
+prior and his brethren, the Prince required of Pekuah the history
+of her adventures.</p>
+<h2><a name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+141</span>CHAPTER XXXVIII<br />
+THE ADVENTURES OF THE LADY PEKUAH.</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">At</span> what time and in what
+manner I was forced away,&rdquo; said Pekuah, &ldquo;your
+servants have told you.&nbsp; The suddenness of the event struck
+me with surprise, and I was at first rather stupefied than
+agitated with any passion of either fear or sorrow.&nbsp; My
+confusion was increased by the speed and tumult of our flight,
+while we were followed by the Turks, who, as it seemed, soon
+despaired to overtake us, or were afraid of those whom they made
+a show of menacing.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When the Arabs saw themselves out of danger, they
+slackened their course; and as I was less harassed by external
+violence, I began to feel more uneasiness in my mind.&nbsp; After
+some time we stopped near a spring shaded with trees, in a
+pleasant meadow, where we were set upon the ground, and offered
+such refreshments as our masters were partaking.&nbsp; I was
+suffered to sit with my maids apart from the rest, and none
+attempted to comfort or insult us.&nbsp; Here I first began to
+feel the full weight of my misery.&nbsp; The girls sat weeping in
+silence, and from time to time looked on me for succour.&nbsp; I
+knew not to what condition we were doomed, nor could conjecture
+where would be the place of our captivity, or whence to draw any
+hope of deliverance.&nbsp; I was in the hands of robbers and
+savages, and had no reason to suppose that their pity was more
+than their justice, or that they would forbear the gratification
+of any ardour of desire or caprice of cruelty.&nbsp; I, however,
+kissed my maids, and endeavoured to pacify them by remarking that
+we were yet treated with decency, and that since we were now
+carried beyond pursuit, there was no danger of violence to our
+lives.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;When we were to be set again on horseback, my maids
+clung round me, and refused to be parted; but I commanded them
+not to irritate those who had us in their power.&nbsp; We
+travelled the remaining part of the day through an unfrequented
+and pathless country, and came by moonlight to the side of a
+hill, where the rest of the troop was stationed.&nbsp; Their
+tents were pitched and their fires kindled, and our chief was
+welcomed as a man much beloved by his dependents.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;We were received into a large tent, where we found
+women who had attended their husbands in the expedition.&nbsp;
+They set before us the supper which they had provided, and I ate
+it rather to encourage my maids than to comply with any appetite
+of my own.&nbsp; When the meat was taken away, they spread the
+carpets for repose.&nbsp; I was weary, and hoped to find in sleep
+that remission of distress which nature seldom denies.&nbsp;
+Ordering myself, therefore, to be undressed, I observed that the
+women looked very earnestly upon me, not expecting, I suppose, to
+see me so submissively attended.&nbsp; When my upper vest was
+taken off, they were apparently struck with the splendour of my
+clothes, and one of them timorously laid her hand upon the
+embroidery.&nbsp; She then went out, and in a short time came
+back with another woman, who seemed to be of higher rank and
+greater authority.&nbsp; She did, at her entrance, the usual act
+of reverence, and, taking me by the hand placed me in a smaller
+tent, spread with finer carpets, where I spent the night quietly
+with my maids.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In the morning, as I was sitting on the grass, the
+chief of the troop came towards me.&nbsp; I rose up to receive
+him, and he bowed with great respect.&nbsp; &lsquo;Illustrious
+lady,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;my fortune is better than I had
+presumed to hope: I am told by my women that I have a princess in
+my camp.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; answered I, &lsquo;your
+women have deceived themselves and you; I am not a princess, but
+an unhappy stranger who intended soon to have left this country,
+in which I am now to be imprisoned for ever.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Whoever or whencesoever you are,&rsquo; returned the Arab,
+&lsquo;your dress and that of your servants show your rank to be
+high and your wealth to be great.&nbsp; Why should you, who can
+so easily procure your ransom, think yourself in danger of
+perpetual captivity?&nbsp; The purpose of my incursions is to
+increase my riches, or, more properly, to gather tribute.&nbsp;
+The sons of Ishmael are the natural and hereditary lords of this
+part of the continent, which is usurped by late invaders and
+low-born tyrants, from whom we are compelled to take by the sword
+what is denied to justice.&nbsp; The violence of war admits no
+distinction: the lance that is lifted at guilt and power will
+sometimes fall on innocence and gentleness.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;How little,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;did I expect
+that yesterday it should have fallen upon me!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Misfortunes,&rsquo; answered the Arab,
+&lsquo;should always be expected.&nbsp; If the eye of hostility
+could learn reverence or pity, excellence like yours had been
+exempt from injury.&nbsp; But the angels of affliction spread
+their toils alike for the virtuous and the wicked, for the mighty
+and the mean.&nbsp; Do not be disconsolate; I am not one of the
+lawless and cruel rovers of the desert; I know the rules of civil
+life; I will fix your ransom, give a passport to your messenger,
+and perform my stipulation with nice punctuality.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You will easily believe that I was pleased with his
+courtesy, and finding that his predominant passion was desire for
+money, I began now to think my danger less, for I knew that no
+sum would be thought too great for the release of Pekuah.&nbsp; I
+told him that he should have no reason to charge me with
+ingratitude if I was used with kindness, and that any ransom
+which could be expected for a maid of common rank would be paid,
+but that he must not persist to rate me as a princess.&nbsp; He
+said he would consider what he should demand, and then, smiling,
+bowed and retired.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Soon after the women came about me, each contending to
+be more officious than the other, and my maids themselves were
+served with reverence.&nbsp; We travelled onward by short
+journeys.&nbsp; On the fourth day the chief told me that my
+ransom must be two hundred ounces of gold, which I not only
+promised him, but told him that I would add fifty more if I and
+my maids were honourably treated.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I never knew the power of gold before.&nbsp; From that
+time I was the leader of the troop.&nbsp; The march of every day
+was longer or shorter as I commanded, and the tents were pitched
+where I chose to rest.&nbsp; We now had camels and other
+conveniences for travel; my own women were always at my side, and
+I amused myself with observing the manners of the vagrant
+nations, and with viewing remains of ancient edifices, with which
+these deserted countries appear to have been in some distant age
+lavishly embellished.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The chief of the band was a man far from illiterate: he
+was able to travel by the stars or the compass, and had marked in
+his erratic expeditions such places as are most worthy the notice
+of a passenger.&nbsp; He observed to me that buildings are always
+best preserved in places little frequented and difficult of
+access; for when once a country declines from its primitive
+splendour, the more inhabitants are left, the quicker ruin will
+be made.&nbsp; Walls supply stones more easily than quarries; and
+palaces and temples will be demolished to make stables of granite
+and cottages of porphyry.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+147</span>CHAPTER XXXIX<br />
+THE ADVENTURES OF PEKUAH (<i>continued</i>).</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">We</span> wandered about in this
+manner for some weeks, either, as our chief pretended, for my
+gratification, or, as I rather suspected, for some convenience of
+his own.&nbsp; I endeavoured to appear contented where sullenness
+and resentment would have been of no use, and that endeavour
+conduced much to the calmness of my mind; but my heart was always
+with Nekayah, and the troubles of the night much overbalanced the
+amusements of the day.&nbsp; My women, who threw all their cares
+upon their mistress, set their minds at ease from the time when
+they saw me treated with respect, and gave themselves up to the
+incidental alleviations of our fatigue without solicitude or
+sorrow.&nbsp; I was pleased with their pleasure, and animated
+with their confidence.&nbsp; My condition had lost much of its
+terror, since I found that the Arab ranged the country merely to
+get riches.&nbsp; Avarice is a uniform and tractable vice: other
+intellectual distempers are different in different constitutions
+of mind; that which soothes the pride of one will offend the
+pride of another; but to the favour of the covetous there is a
+ready way&mdash;bring money, and nothing is denied.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;At last we came to the dwelling of our chief; a strong
+and spacious house, built with stone in an island of the Nile,
+which lies, as I was told, under the tropic.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Lady,&rsquo; said the Arab, &lsquo;you shall rest after
+your journey a few weeks in this place, where you are to consider
+yourself as Sovereign.&nbsp; My occupation is war: I have
+therefore chosen this obscure residence, from which I can issue
+unexpected, and to which I can retire unpursued.&nbsp; You may
+now repose in security: here are few pleasures, but here is no
+danger.&rsquo;&nbsp; He then led me into the inner apartments,
+and seating me on the richest couch, bowed to the ground.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;His women, who considered me as a rival, looked on me
+with malignity; but being soon informed that I was a great lady
+detained only for my ransom, they began to vie with each other in
+obsequiousness and reverence.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Being again comforted with new assurances of speedy
+liberty, I was for some days diverted from impatience by the
+novelty of the place.&nbsp; The turrets overlooked the country to
+a great distance, and afforded a view of many windings of the
+stream.&nbsp; In the day I wandered from one place to another, as
+the course of the sun varied the splendour of the prospect, and
+saw many things which I had never seen before.&nbsp; The
+crocodiles and river-horses are common in this unpeopled region;
+and I often looked upon them with terror, though I knew they
+could not hurt me.&nbsp; For some time I expected to see mermaids
+and tritons, which, as Imlac has told me, the European travellers
+have stationed in the Nile; but no such beings ever appeared, and
+the Arab, when I inquired after them, laughed at my
+credulity.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;At night the Arab always attended me to a tower set
+apart for celestial observations, where he endeavoured to teach
+me the names and courses of the stars.&nbsp; I had no great
+inclination to this study; but an appearance of attention was
+necessary to please my instructor, who valued himself for his
+skill, and in a little while I found some employment requisite to
+beguile the tediousness of time, which was to be passed always
+amidst the same objects.&nbsp; I was weary of looking in the
+morning on things from which I had turned away weary in the
+evening: I therefore was at last willing to observe the stars
+rather than do nothing, but could not always compose my thoughts,
+and was very often thinking on Nekayah when others imagined me
+contemplating the sky.&nbsp; Soon after, the Arab went upon
+another expedition, and then my only pleasure was to talk with my
+maids about the accident by which we were carried away, and the
+happiness we should all enjoy at the end of our
+captivity.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;There were women in your Arab&rsquo;s fortress,&rdquo;
+said the Princess; &ldquo;why did you not make them your
+companions, enjoy their conversation, and partake their
+diversions?&nbsp; In a place where they found business or
+amusement, why should you alone sit corroded with idle
+melancholy? or why could not you bear for a few months that
+condition to which they were condemned for life?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The diversions of the women,&rdquo; answered Pekuah,
+&ldquo;were only childish play, by which the mind accustomed to
+stronger operations could not be kept busy.&nbsp; I could do all
+which they delighted in doing by powers merely sensitive, while
+my intellectual faculties were flown to Cairo.&nbsp; They ran
+from room to room, as a bird hops from wire to wire in his
+cage.&nbsp; They danced for the sake of motion, as lambs frisk in
+a meadow.&nbsp; One sometimes pretended to be hurt that the rest
+might be alarmed, or hid herself that another might seek
+her.&nbsp; Part of their time passed in watching the progress of
+light bodies that floated on the river, and part in marking the
+various forms into which clouds broke in the sky.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Their business was only needlework, in which I and my
+maids sometimes helped them; but you know that the mind will
+easily straggle from the fingers, nor will you suspect that
+captivity and absence from Nekayah could receive solace from
+silken flowers.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Nor was much satisfaction to be hoped from their
+conversation: for of what could they be expected to talk?&nbsp;
+They had seen nothing, for they had lived from early youth in
+that narrow spot: of what they had not seen they could have no
+knowledge, for they could not read.&nbsp; They had no idea but of
+the few things that were within their view, and had hardly names
+for anything but their clothes and their food.&nbsp; As I bore a
+superior character, I was often called to terminate their
+quarrels, which I decided as equitably as I could.&nbsp; If it
+could have amused me to hear the complaints of each against the
+rest, I might have been often detained by long stories; but the
+motives of their animosity were so small that I could not listen
+without interrupting the tale.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;How,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;can the Arab, whom
+you represented as a man of more than common accomplishments,
+take any pleasure in his seraglio, when it is filled only with
+women like these?&nbsp; Are they exquisitely
+beautiful?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;They do not,&rdquo; said Pekuah, &ldquo;want that
+unaffecting and ignoble beauty which may subsist without
+sprightliness or sublimity, without energy of thought or dignity
+of virtue.&nbsp; But to a man like the Arab such beauty was only
+a flower casually plucked and carelessly thrown away.&nbsp;
+Whatever pleasures he might find among them, they were not those
+of friendship or society.&nbsp; When they were playing about him
+he looked on them with inattentive superiority; when they vied
+for his regard he sometimes turned away disgusted.&nbsp; As they
+had no knowledge, their talk could take nothing from the
+tediousness of life; as they had no choice, their fondness, or
+appearance of fondness, excited in him neither pride nor
+gratitude.&nbsp; He was not exalted in his own esteem by the
+smiles of a woman who saw no other man, nor was much obliged by
+that regard of which he could never know the sincerity, and which
+he might often perceive to be exerted not so much to delight him
+as to pain a rival.&nbsp; That which he gave, and they received,
+as love, was only a careless distribution of superfluous time,
+such love as man can bestow upon that which he despises, such as
+has neither hope nor fear, neither joy nor sorrow.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You have reason, lady, to think yourself happy,&rdquo;
+said Imlac, &ldquo;that you have been thus easily
+dismissed.&nbsp; How could a mind, hungry for knowledge, be
+willing, in an intellectual famine, to lose such a banquet as
+Pekuah&rsquo;s conversation?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I am inclined to believe,&rdquo; answered Pekuah,
+&ldquo;that he was for some time in suspense; for,
+notwithstanding his promise, whenever I proposed to despatch a
+messenger to Cairo he found some excuse for delay.&nbsp; While I
+was detained in his house he made many incursions into the
+neighbouring countries, and perhaps he would have refused to
+discharge me had his plunder been equal to his wishes.&nbsp; He
+returned always courteous, related his adventures, delighted to
+hear my observations, and endeavoured to advance my acquaintance
+with the stars.&nbsp; When I importuned him to send away my
+letters, he soothed me with professions of honour and sincerity;
+and when I could be no longer decently denied, put his troop
+again in motion, and left me to govern in his absence.&nbsp; I
+was much afflicted by this studied procrastination, and was
+sometimes afraid that I should be forgotten; that you would leave
+Cairo, and I must end my days in an island of the Nile.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I grew at last hopeless and dejected, and cared so
+little to entertain him, that he for a while more frequently
+talked with my maids.&nbsp; That he should fall in love with them
+or with me, might have been equally fatal, and I was not much
+pleased with the growing friendship.&nbsp; My anxiety was not
+long, for, as I recovered some degree of cheerfulness, he
+returned to me, and I could not forbear to despise my former
+uneasiness.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He still delayed to send for my ransom, and would
+perhaps never have determined had not your agent found his way to
+him.&nbsp; The gold, which he would not fetch, he could not
+reject when it was offered.&nbsp; He hastened to prepare for our
+journey hither, like a man delivered from the pain of an
+intestine conflict.&nbsp; I took leave of my companions in the
+house, who dismissed me with cold indifference.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Nekayah having heard her favourite&rsquo;s relation, rose and
+embraced her, and Rasselas gave her a hundred ounces of gold,
+which she presented to the Arab for the fifty that were
+promised.</p>
+<h2><a name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+155</span>CHAPTER XL<br />
+THE HISTORY OF A MAN OF LEARNING.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">They</span> returned to Cairo, and were so
+well pleased at finding themselves together that none of them
+went much abroad.&nbsp; The Prince began to love learning, and
+one day declared to Imlac that he intended to devote himself to
+science and pass the rest of his days in literary solitude.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Before you make your final choice,&rdquo; answered
+Imlac, &ldquo;you ought to examine its hazards, and converse with
+some of those who are grown old in the company of
+themselves.&nbsp; I have just left the observatory of one of the
+most learned astronomers in the world, who has spent forty years
+in unwearied attention to the motion and appearances of the
+celestial bodies, and has drawn out his soul in endless
+calculations.&nbsp; He admits a few friends once a month to hear
+his deductions and enjoy his discoveries.&nbsp; I was introduced
+as a man of knowledge worthy of his notice.&nbsp; Men of various
+ideas and fluent conversation are commonly welcome to those whose
+thoughts have been long fixed upon a single point, and who find
+the images of other things stealing away.&nbsp; I delighted him
+with my remarks.&nbsp; He smiled at the narrative of my travels,
+and was glad to forget the constellations and descend for a
+moment into the lower world.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;On the next day of vacation I renewed my visit, and was
+so fortunate as to please him again.&nbsp; He relaxed from that
+time the severity of his rule, and permitted me to enter at my
+own choice.&nbsp; I found him always busy, and always glad to be
+relieved.&nbsp; As each knew much which the other was desirous of
+learning, we exchanged our notions with great delight.&nbsp; I
+perceived that I had every day more of his confidence, and always
+found new cause of admiration in the profundity of his
+mind.&nbsp; His comprehension is vast, his memory capacious and
+retentive, his discourse is methodical, and his expression
+clear.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;His integrity and benevolence are equal to his
+learning.&nbsp; His deepest researches and most favourite studies
+are willingly interrupted for any opportunity of doing good by
+his counsel or his riches.&nbsp; To his closest retreat, at his
+most busy moments, all are admitted that want his assistance;
+&lsquo;For though I exclude idleness and pleasure, I will
+never,&rsquo; says he, &lsquo;bar my doors against charity.&nbsp;
+To man is permitted the contemplation of the skies, but the
+practice of virtue is commanded.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;this man is
+happy.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I visited him,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;with more and
+more frequency, and was every time more enamoured of his
+conversation; he was sublime without haughtiness, courteous
+without formality, and communicative without ostentation.&nbsp; I
+was at first, great Princess, of your opinion, thought him the
+happiest of mankind, and often congratulated him on the blessing
+that he enjoyed.&nbsp; He seemed to hear nothing with
+indifference but the praises of his condition, to which he always
+returned a general answer, and diverted the conversation to some
+other topic.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Amidst this willingness to be pleased and labour to
+please, I had quickly reason to imagine that some painful
+sentiment pressed upon his mind.&nbsp; He often looked up
+earnestly towards the sun, and let his voice fall in the midst of
+his discourse.&nbsp; He would sometimes, when we were alone, gaze
+upon me in silence with the air of a man who longed to speak what
+he was yet resolved to suppress.&nbsp; He would often send for me
+with vehement injunction of haste, though when I came to him he
+had nothing extraordinary to say; and sometimes, when I was
+leaving him, would call me back, pause a few moments, and then
+dismiss me.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+158</span>CHAPTER XLI<br />
+THE ASTRONOMER DISCOVERS THE CAUSE OF HIS UNEASINESS.</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">At</span> last the time came when
+the secret burst his reserve.&nbsp; We were sitting together last
+night in the turret of his house watching the immersion of a
+satellite of Jupiter.&nbsp; A sudden tempest clouded the sky and
+disappointed our observation.&nbsp; We sat awhile silent in the
+dark, and then he addressed himself to me in these words:
+&lsquo;Imlac, I have long considered thy friendship as the
+greatest blessing of my life.&nbsp; Integrity without knowledge
+is weak and useless, and knowledge without integrity is dangerous
+and dreadful.&nbsp; I have found in thee all the qualities
+requisite for trust&mdash;benevolence, experience, and
+fortitude.&nbsp; I have long discharged an office which I must
+soon quit at the call of Nature, and shall rejoice in the hour of
+imbecility and pain to devolve it upon thee.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I thought myself honoured by this testimony, and
+protested that whatever could conduce to his happiness would add
+likewise to mine.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Hear, Imlac, what thou wilt not without
+difficulty credit.&nbsp; I have possessed for five years the <a
+name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 159</span>regulation
+of the weather and the distribution of the seasons.&nbsp; The sun
+has listened to my dictates, and passed from tropic to tropic by
+my direction; the clouds at my call have poured their waters, and
+the Nile has overflowed at my command.&nbsp; I have restrained
+the rage of the dog-star, and mitigated the fervours of the
+crab.&nbsp; The winds alone, of all the elemental powers, have
+hitherto refused my authority, and multitudes have perished by
+equinoctial tempests which I found myself unable to prohibit or
+restrain.&nbsp; I have administered this great office with exact
+justice, and made to the different nations of the earth an
+impartial dividend of rain and sunshine.&nbsp; What must have
+been the misery of half the globe if I had limited the clouds to
+particular regions, or confined the sun to either side of the
+equator?&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLII<br />
+THE OPINION OF THE ASTRONOMER IS EXPLAINED AND JUSTIFIED.</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;I <span class="smcap">suppose</span> he discovered in
+me, through the obscurity of the room, some tokens of amazement
+and doubt, for after a short pause he proceeded thus:&mdash;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Not to be easily credited will neither surprise
+nor offend me, for I am probably the first of human beings to
+whom this trust has been imparted.&nbsp; Nor do I know whether to
+deem this distinction a reward or punishment.&nbsp; Since I have
+possessed it I have been far less happy than before, and nothing
+but the consciousness of good intention could have enabled me to
+support the weariness of unremitted vigilance.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;How long, sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;has this
+great office been in your hands?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;About ten years ago,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;my
+daily observations of the changes of the sky led me to consider
+whether, if I had the power of the seasons, I could confer
+greater plenty upon the inhabitants of the earth.&nbsp; This
+contemplation fastened on my mind, and I sat days and nights in
+imaginary dominion, pouring upon this country and that the
+showers of fertility, and seconding every fall of rain with a due
+proportion of sunshine.&nbsp; I had yet only the will to do good,
+and did not imagine that I should ever have the power.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;One day as I was looking on the fields withering
+with heat, I felt in my mind a sudden wish that I could send rain
+on the southern mountains, and raise the Nile to an
+inundation.&nbsp; In the hurry of my imagination I commanded rain
+to fall; and by comparing the time of my command with that of the
+inundation, I found that the clouds had listened to my
+lips.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Might not some other cause,&rsquo; said I,
+&lsquo;produce this concurrence?&nbsp; The Nile does not always
+rise on the same day.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Do not believe,&rsquo; said he, with impatience,
+&lsquo;that such objections could escape me.&nbsp; I reasoned
+long against my own conviction, and laboured against truth with
+the utmost obstinacy.&nbsp; I sometimes suspected myself of
+madness, and should not have dared to impart this secret but to a
+man like you, capable of distinguishing the wonderful from the
+impossible, and the incredible from the false.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Why, sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;do you call that
+incredible which you know, or think you know, to be
+true?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Because,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;I cannot prove
+it by any external evidence; and I know too well the laws of
+demonstration to think that my conviction ought to influence
+another, who cannot, like me, be conscious of its force.&nbsp; I
+therefore shall not attempt to gain credit by disputation.&nbsp;
+It is sufficient that I feel this power that I have long
+possessed, and every day exerted it.&nbsp; But the life of man is
+short; the infirmities of age increase <a
+name="page162"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 162</span>upon me,
+and the time will soon come when the regulator of the year must
+mingle with the dust.&nbsp; The care of appointing a successor
+has long disturbed me; the night and the day have been spent in
+comparisons of all the characters which have come to my
+knowledge, and I have yet found none so worthy as
+thyself.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIII<br />
+THE ASTRONOMER LEAVES IMLAC HIS DIRECTIONS.</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;<span class="smcap">Hear</span>, therefore, what
+I shall impart with attention, such as the welfare of a world
+requires.&nbsp; If the task of a king be considered as difficult,
+who has the care only of a few millions, to whom he cannot do
+much good or harm, what must be the anxiety of him on whom
+depends the action of the elements and the great gifts of light
+and heat?&nbsp; Hear me, therefore, with attention.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I have diligently considered the position of the
+earth and sun, and formed innumerable schemes, in which I changed
+their situation.&nbsp; I have sometimes turned aside the axis of
+the earth, and sometimes varied the ecliptic of the sun, but I
+have found it impossible to make a disposition by which the world
+may be advantaged; what one region gains another loses by an
+imaginable alteration, even without considering the distant parts
+of the solar system with which we are acquainted.&nbsp; Do not,
+therefore, in thy administration of the year, indulge thy pride
+by innovation; do not please thyself with thinking that thou
+canst make thyself renowned to all future ages by disordering the
+seasons.&nbsp; The memory of mischief is no desirable fame.&nbsp;
+Much less will it become thee to let kindness or interest
+prevail.&nbsp; Never rob other countries of rain to pour it on
+thine own.&nbsp; For us the Nile is sufficient.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I promised that when I possessed the power I would use
+it with inflexible integrity; and he dismissed me, pressing my
+hand.&nbsp; &lsquo;My heart,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;will be now
+at rest, and my benevolence will no more destroy my quiet; I have
+found a man of wisdom and virtue, to whom I can cheerfully
+bequeath the inheritance of the sun.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Prince heard this narration with very serious regard; but
+the Princess smiled, and Pekuah convulsed herself with
+laughter.&nbsp; &ldquo;Ladies,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;to mock
+the heaviest of human afflictions is neither charitable nor
+wise.&nbsp; Few can attain this man&rsquo;s knowledge and few
+practise his virtues, but all may suffer his calamity.&nbsp; Of
+the uncertainties <a name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+164</span>of our present state, the most dreadful and alarming is
+the uncertain continuance of reason.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Princess was recollected, and the favourite was
+abashed.&nbsp; Rasselas, more deeply affected, inquired of Imlac
+whether he thought such maladies of the mind frequent, and how
+they were contracted.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIV<br />
+THE DANGEROUS PREVALENCE OF IMAGINATION.</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Disorders</span> of
+intellect,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;happen much more often
+than superficial observers will easily believe.&nbsp; Perhaps if
+we speak with rigorous exactness, no human mind is in its right
+state.&nbsp; There is no man whose imagination does not sometimes
+predominate over his reason who can regulate his attention wholly
+by his will, and whose ideas will come and go at his
+command.&nbsp; No man will be found in whose mind airy notions do
+not sometimes tyrannise, and force him to hope or fear beyond the
+limits of sober probability.&nbsp; All power of fancy over reason
+is a degree of insanity, but while this power is such as we can
+control and repress it is not visible to others, nor considered
+as any deprivation of the mental faculties; it is not pronounced
+madness but when it becomes ungovernable, and apparently
+influences speech or action.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To indulge the power of fiction and send imagination
+out upon the wing is often the sport of those who delight too
+much in silent speculation.&nbsp; When we are alone we are not
+always busy; the labour of excogitation is too violent to last
+long; the ardour of inquiry will sometimes give way to idleness
+or satiety.&nbsp; He who has nothing external that can divert him
+must find pleasure in his own thoughts, and must conceive himself
+what he is not; for who is pleased with what he is?&nbsp; He then
+expatiates in boundless futurity, and culls from all imaginable
+conditions that which for the present moment he should most
+desire, amuses his desires with impossible enjoyments, and
+confers upon his pride unattainable dominion.&nbsp; The mind
+dances from scene to scene, unites all pleasures in all
+combinations, and riots in delights which Nature and fortune,
+with all their bounty, cannot bestow.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;In time some particular train of ideas fixes the
+attention; all other intellectual gratifications are rejected;
+the mind, in weariness or leisure, recurs constantly to the
+favourite conception, and feasts on the luscious falsehood
+whenever she is offended with the bitterness of truth.&nbsp; By
+degrees the reign of fancy is confirmed; she grows first
+imperious and in time despotic.&nbsp; Then fictions begin to
+operate as realities, false opinions fasten upon the mind, and
+life passes in dreams of rapture or of anguish.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This, sir, is one of the dangers of solitude, which the
+hermit has confessed not always to promote goodness, and the
+astronomer&rsquo;s misery has proved to be not always propitious
+to wisdom.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will no more,&rdquo; said the favourite,
+&ldquo;imagine myself the Queen of Abyssinia.&nbsp; I have often
+spent the hours which the Princess gave to my own disposal in
+adjusting ceremonies and regulating the Court; I have repressed
+the pride of the powerful and granted the petitions of the poor;
+I have built new palaces in more happy situations, planted groves
+upon the tops of mountains, and have exulted in the beneficence
+of royalty, till, when the Princess entered, I had almost
+forgotten to bow down before her.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;And I,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;will not allow
+myself any more to play the shepherdess in my waking
+dreams.&nbsp; I have often soothed my thoughts with the quiet and
+innocence of pastoral employments, till I have in my chamber
+heard the winds whistle and the sheep bleat; sometimes freed the
+lamb entangled in the thicket, and sometimes with my crook
+encountered the wolf.&nbsp; I have a dress like that of the
+village maids, which I put on to help my imagination, and a pipe
+on which I play softly, and suppose myself followed by my
+flocks.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I will confess,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;an
+indulgence of fantastic delight more dangerous than yours.&nbsp;
+I have frequently endeavoured to imagine the possibility of a
+perfect government, by which all wrong should be restrained, all
+vice reformed, and all the subjects preserved in tranquillity and
+innocence.&nbsp; This thought produced innumerable schemes of
+reformation, and dictated many useful regulations and salutary
+effects.&nbsp; This has been the sport and sometimes the labour
+of my solitude, and I start when I think with how little anguish
+I once supposed the death of my father and my
+brothers.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Such,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;are the effects of
+visionary schemes.&nbsp; When we first form them, we know them to
+be absurd, but familiarise them by degrees, and in time lose
+sight of their folly.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2><a name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+168</span>CHAPTER XLV<br />
+THEY DISCOURSE WITH AN OLD MAN.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> evening was now far past, and
+they rose to return home.&nbsp; As they walked along the banks of
+the Nile, delighted with the beams of the moon quivering on the
+water, they saw at a small distance an old man whom the Prince
+had often heard in the assembly of the sages.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Yonder,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is one whose years have
+calmed his passions, but not clouded his reason.&nbsp; Let us
+close the disquisitions of the night by inquiring what are his
+sentiments of his own state, that we may know whether youth alone
+is to struggle with vexation, and whether any better hope remains
+for the latter part of life.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Here the sage approached and saluted them.&nbsp; They invited
+him to join their walk, and prattled awhile as acquaintance that
+had unexpectedly met one another.&nbsp; The old man was cheerful
+and talkative, and the way seemed short in his company.&nbsp; He
+was pleased to find himself not disregarded, accompanied them to
+their house, and, at the Prince&rsquo;s request, entered with
+them.&nbsp; They placed him in the seat of honour, and set wine
+and conserves before him.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;an evening walk
+must give to a man of learning like you pleasures which ignorance
+and youth can hardly conceive.&nbsp; You know the qualities and
+the causes of all that you behold&mdash;the laws by which the
+river flows, the periods in which the planets perform their
+revolutions.&nbsp; Everything must supply you with contemplation,
+and renew the consciousness of your own dignity.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Lady,&rdquo; answered he, &ldquo;let the gay and the
+vigorous expect pleasure in their excursions: it is enough that
+age can attain ease.&nbsp; To me the world has lost its
+novelty.&nbsp; I look round, and see what I remember to have seen
+in happier days.&nbsp; I rest against a tree, and consider that
+in the same shade I once disputed upon the annual overflow of the
+Nile with a friend who is now silent in the grave.&nbsp; I cast
+my eyes upwards, fix them on the changing moon, and think with
+pain on the vicissitudes of life.&nbsp; I have ceased to take
+much delight in physical truth; for what have I to do with those
+things which I am soon to leave?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;You may at least recreate yourself,&rdquo; said Imlac,
+&ldquo;with the recollection of an honourable and useful life,
+and enjoy the praise which all agree to give you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Praise,&rdquo; said the sage with a sigh, &ldquo;is to
+an old man an empty sound.&nbsp; I have neither mother to be
+delighted with the reputation of her son, nor wife to partake the
+honours of her husband.&nbsp; I have outlived my friends and my
+rivals.&nbsp; Nothing is now of much importance; for I cannot
+extend my interest beyond myself.&nbsp; Youth is delighted with
+applause, because it is considered as the earnest of some future
+good, and because the prospect of life is far extended; but to
+me, who am now declining to decrepitude, there is little to be
+feared from the malevolence of men, and yet less to be hoped from
+their affection or esteem.&nbsp; Something they may yet take
+away, but they can give me nothing.&nbsp; Riches would now be
+useless, and high employment would be pain.&nbsp; My retrospect
+of life recalls to my view many opportunities of good neglected,
+much time squandered upon trifles, and more lost in idleness and
+vacancy.&nbsp; I leave many great designs unattempted, and many
+great attempts unfinished.&nbsp; My mind is burdened with no
+heavy crime, and therefore I compose myself to tranquillity;
+endeavour to abstract my thoughts from hopes and cares which,
+though reason knows them to be vain, still try to keep their old
+possession of the heart; expect, with serene humility, that hour
+which nature cannot long delay, and hope to possess in a better
+state that happiness which here I could not find, and that virtue
+which here I have not attained.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>He arose and went away, leaving his audience not much elated
+with the hope of long life.&nbsp; The Prince consoled himself
+with remarking that it was not reasonable to be disappointed by
+this account; for age had never been considered as the season of
+felicity, and if it was possible to be easy in decline and
+weakness, it was likely that the days of vigour and alacrity
+might be happy; that the noon of life might be bright, if the
+evening could be calm.</p>
+<p>The Princess suspected that age was querulous and malignant,
+and delighted to repress the expectations of those who had newly
+entered the world.&nbsp; She had seen the possessors of estates
+look with envy on their heirs, and known many who enjoyed
+pleasures no longer than they could confine it to themselves.</p>
+<p>Pekuah conjectured that the man was older than he appeared,
+and was willing to impute his complaints to delirious dejection;
+or else supposed that he had been unfortunate, and was therefore
+discontented.&nbsp; &ldquo;For nothing,&rdquo; said she,
+&ldquo;is more common than to call our own condition the
+condition of life.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><a name="page172"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+172</span>Imlac, who had no desire to see them depressed, smiled
+at the comforts which they could so readily procure to
+themselves; and remembered that at the same age he was equally
+confident of unmingled prosperity, and equally fertile of
+consolatory expedients.&nbsp; He forbore to force upon them
+unwelcome knowledge, which time itself would too soon
+impress.&nbsp; The Princess and her lady retired; the madness of
+the astronomer hung upon their minds; and they desired Imlac to
+enter upon his office, and delay next morning the rising of the
+sun.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVI<br />
+THE PRINCESS AND PEKUAH VISIT THE ASTRONOMER.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Princess and Pekuah, having
+talked in private of Imlac&rsquo;s astronomer, thought his
+character at once so amiable and so strange that they could not
+be satisfied without a nearer knowledge, and Imlac was requested
+to find the means of bringing them together.</p>
+<p>This was somewhat difficult.&nbsp; The philosopher had never
+received any visits from women, though he lived in a city that
+had in it many Europeans, who followed the manners of their own
+countries, and many from other parts of the world, that lived
+there with European liberty.&nbsp; The ladies would not be
+refused, and several schemes were proposed for the accomplishment
+of their design.&nbsp; It was proposed to introduce them as
+strangers in distress, to whom the sage was always accessible;
+but after some deliberation it appeared that by this artifice no
+acquaintance could be formed, for their conversation would be
+short, and they could not decently importune him often.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;is true; but I have yet
+a stronger objection against the misrepresentation of your
+state.&nbsp; I have always considered it as treason against the
+great republic of human nature to make any man&rsquo;s virtues
+the means of deceiving him, whether on great or little
+occasions.&nbsp; All imposture weakens confidence and chills
+benevolence.&nbsp; When the sage finds that you are not what you
+seemed, he will feel the resentment natural to a man who,
+conscious of great abilities, discovers that he has been tricked
+by understandings meaner than his own, and perhaps the distrust
+which he can never afterwards wholly lay aside may stop the voice
+of counsel and close the hand of charity; and where will you find
+the power of restoring his benefactions to mankind, or his peace
+to himself?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>To this no reply was attempted, and Imlac began to hope that
+their curiosity would subside; but next day Pekuah told him she
+had now found an honest pretence for a visit to the astronomer,
+for she would solicit permission to continue under him the
+studies in which she had been initiated by the Arab, and the
+Princess might go with her, either as a fellow-student, or
+because a woman could not decently come alone.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am
+afraid,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;that he will soon be weary of
+your company.&nbsp; Men advanced far in knowledge do not love to
+repeat the elements of their art, and I am not certain that even
+of the elements, as he will deliver them, connected with
+inferences and mingled with reflections, you are a very capable
+auditress.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;That,&rdquo; said Pekuah,
+&ldquo;must be my care.&nbsp; I ask of you only to take me
+thither.&nbsp; My knowledge is perhaps more than you imagine it,
+and by concurring always with his opinions I shall make him think
+it greater than it is.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The astronomer, in pursuance of this resolution, was told that
+a foreign lady, travelling in search of knowledge, had heard of
+his reputation, and was desirous to become his scholar.&nbsp; The
+uncommonness of the proposal raised at once his surprise and
+curiosity, and when after a short deliberation he consented to
+admit her, he could not stay without impatience till the next
+day.</p>
+<p>The ladies dressed themselves magnificently, and were attended
+by Imlac to the astronomer, who was pleased to see himself
+approached with respect by persons of so splendid an
+appearance.&nbsp; In the exchange of the first civilities he was
+timorous and bashful; but when the talk became regular, he
+recollected his powers, and justified the character which Imlac
+had given.&nbsp; Inquiring of Pekuah what could have turned her
+inclination towards astronomy, he received from her a history of
+her adventure at the Pyramid, and of the time passed in the
+Arab&rsquo;s island.&nbsp; She told her tale with ease and
+elegance, and her conversation took possession of his
+heart.&nbsp; The discourse was then turned to astronomy.&nbsp;
+Pekuah displayed what she knew.&nbsp; He looked upon her as a
+prodigy of genius, and entreated her not to desist from a study
+which she had so happily begun.</p>
+<p>They came again and again, and were every time more welcome
+than before.&nbsp; The sage endeavoured to amuse them, that they
+might prolong their visits, for he found his thoughts grow
+brighter in their company; the clouds of solitude vanished by
+degrees as he forced himself to entertain them, and he grieved
+when he was left, at their departure, to his old employment of
+regulating the seasons.</p>
+<p>The Princess and her favourite had now watched his lips for
+several months, and could not catch a single word from which they
+could judge whether he continued or not in the opinion of his
+preternatural commission.&nbsp; They often contrived to bring him
+to an open declaration; but he easily eluded all their attacks,
+and, on which side soever they pressed him, escaped from them to
+some other topic.</p>
+<p>As their familiarity increased, they invited him often to the
+house of Imlac, where they distinguished him by extraordinary
+respect.&nbsp; He began gradually to delight in sublunary
+pleasures.&nbsp; He came early and departed late; laboured to
+recommend himself by assiduity and compliance; excited their
+curiosity after new arts, that they might still want his
+assistance; and when they made any excursion of pleasure or
+inquiry, entreated to attend them.</p>
+<p>By long experience of his integrity and wisdom, the Prince and
+his sister were convinced that he might be trusted without
+danger; and lest he should draw any false hopes from the
+civilities which he received, discovered to him their condition,
+with the motives of their journey, and required his opinion on
+the choice of life.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Of the various conditions which the world spreads
+before you which you shall prefer,&rdquo; said the sage, &ldquo;I
+am not able to instruct you.&nbsp; I can only tell that I have
+chosen wrong.&nbsp; I have passed my time in study without
+experience&mdash;in the attainment of sciences which can for the
+most part be but remotely useful to mankind.&nbsp; I have
+purchased knowledge at the expense of all the common comforts of
+life; I have missed the endearing elegance of female friendship,
+and the happy commerce of domestic tenderness.&nbsp; If I have
+obtained any prerogatives above other students, they have been
+accompanied with fear, disquiet, and scrupulosity; but even of
+these prerogatives, whatever they were, I have, since my thoughts
+have been diversified by more intercourse with the world, begun
+to question the reality.&nbsp; When I have been for a few days
+lost in pleasing dissipation, I am always tempted to think that
+my inquiries have ended in error, and that I have suffered much,
+and suffered it in vain.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Imlac was delighted to find that the sage&rsquo;s
+understanding was breaking through its mists, and resolved to
+detain him from the planets till he should forget his task of
+ruling them, and reason should recover its original
+influence.</p>
+<p>From this time the astronomer was received into familiar
+friendship, and partook of all their projects and pleasures; his
+respect kept him attentive, and the activity of Rasselas did not
+leave much time unengaged.&nbsp; Something was always to be done;
+the day was spent in making observations, which furnished talk
+for the evening, and the evening was closed with a scheme for the
+morrow.</p>
+<p>The sage confessed to Imlac that since he had mingled in the
+gay tumults of life, and divided his hours by a succession of
+amusements, he found the conviction of his authority over the
+skies fade gradually from his mind, and began to trust less to an
+opinion which he never could prove to others, and which he now
+found subject to variation, from causes in which reason had no
+part.&nbsp; &ldquo;If I am accidentally left alone for a few
+hours,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;my inveterate persuasion rushes
+upon my soul, and my thoughts are chained down by some
+irresistible violence; but they are soon disentangled by the
+Prince&rsquo;s conversation, and instantaneously released at the
+entrance of Pekuah.&nbsp; I am like a man habitually afraid of
+spectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and wonders at the dread
+which harassed him in the dark; yet, if his lamp be extinguished,
+feels again the terrors which he knows that when it is light he
+shall feel no more.&nbsp; But I am sometimes afraid, lest I
+indulge my quiet by criminal negligence, and voluntarily forget
+the great charge with which I am entrusted.&nbsp; If I favour
+myself in a known error, or am determined by my own ease in a
+doubtful question of this importance, how dreadful is my
+crime!&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;No disease of the imagination,&rdquo; answered Imlac,
+&ldquo;is so difficult of cure as that which is complicated with
+the dread of guilt; fancy and conscience then act interchangeably
+upon us, and so often shift their places, that the illusions of
+one are not distinguished from the dictates of the other.&nbsp;
+If fancy presents images not moral or religious, the mind drives
+them away when they give it pain; but when melancholy notions
+take the form of duty, they lay hold on the faculties without
+opposition, because we are afraid to exclude or banish
+them.&nbsp; For this reason the superstitious are often
+melancholy, and the melancholy almost always superstitious.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But do not let the suggestions of timidity overpower
+your better reason; the danger of neglect <a
+name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 180</span>can be but
+as the probability of the obligation, which, when you consider it
+with freedom, you find very little, and that little growing every
+day less.&nbsp; Open your heart to the influence of the light,
+which from time to time breaks in upon you; when scruples
+importune you, which you in your lucid moments know to be vain,
+do not stand to parley, but fly to business or to Pekuah; and
+keep this thought always prevalent, that you are only one atom of
+the mass of humanity, and have neither such virtue nor vice as
+that you should be singled out for supernatural favours or
+afflictions.&rdquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVII<br />
+THE PRINCE ENTERS, AND BRINGS A NEW TOPIC.</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">All</span> this,&rdquo; said the
+astronomer, &ldquo;I have often thought; but my reason has been
+so long subjugated by an uncontrollable and overwhelming idea,
+that it durst not confide in its own decisions.&nbsp; I now see
+how fatally I betrayed my quiet, by suffering chimeras to prey
+upon me in secret; but melancholy shrinks from communication, and
+I never found a man before to whom I could impart my troubles,
+though I had been certain of relief.&nbsp; I rejoice to find my
+own sentiments confirmed by yours, who are not easily deceived,
+and can have no motive or purpose to deceive.&nbsp; I hope that
+time and variety will dissipate the gloom that has so long
+surrounded me, and the latter part of my days will be spent in
+peace.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Your learning and virtue,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;may
+justly give you hopes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Rasselas then entered, with the Princess and Pekuah, and
+inquired whether they had contrived any new diversion for the
+next day.&nbsp; &ldquo;Such,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;is the
+state of life, that none are happy but by the anticipation of
+change; the change itself is nothing; when we have made it the
+next wish is to change again.&nbsp; The world is not yet
+exhausted: let me see something to-morrow which I never saw
+before.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Variety,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;is so necessary
+to content, that even the Happy Valley disgusted me by the
+recurrence of its luxuries; yet I could not forbear to reproach
+myself with impatience when I saw the monks of St. Anthony
+support, without complaint, a life, not of uniform delight, but
+uniform hardship.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Those men,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;are less
+wretched in their silent convent than the Abyssinian princes in
+their prison of pleasure.&nbsp; Whatever is done by the monks is
+incited by an adequate and reasonable motive.&nbsp; Their labour
+supplies them with necessaries; it therefore cannot be omitted,
+and is certainly rewarded.&nbsp; Their devotion prepares them for
+another state, and reminds them of its approach while it fits
+them for it.&nbsp; Their time is regularly distributed; one duty
+succeeds another, so that they are not left open to the
+distraction of unguided choice, nor lost in the shades of
+listless inactivity.&nbsp; There is a certain task to be
+performed at an appropriated hour, and their toils are cheerful,
+because they consider them as acts of piety by which they are
+always advancing towards endless felicity.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Do you think,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;that the
+monastic rule is a more holy and less imperfect state than any
+other?&nbsp; May not he equally hope for future happiness who
+converses openly with mankind, who succours the distressed by his
+charity, instructs the ignorant by his learning, and contributes
+by his industry to the general system of life, even though he
+should omit some of the mortifications which are practised in the
+cloister, and allow himself such harmless delights as his
+condition may place within his reach?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is a question which has
+long divided the wise and perplexed the good.&nbsp; I am afraid
+to decide on either part.&nbsp; He that lives well in the world
+is better than he that lives well in a monastery.&nbsp; But
+perhaps everyone is not able to stem the temptations of public
+life, and if he cannot conquer he may properly retreat.&nbsp;
+Some have little power to do good, and have likewise little
+strength to resist evil.&nbsp; Many are weary of the conflicts
+with adversity, and are willing to eject those passions which
+have long busied them in vain.&nbsp; And many are dismissed by
+age and diseases from the more laborious duties of society.&nbsp;
+In monasteries the weak and timorous may be happily sheltered,
+the weary may repose, and the penitent may meditate.&nbsp; Those
+retreats of prayer and contemplation have something so congenial
+to the mind of man, that perhaps there is scarcely one that does
+not purpose to close his life in pious abstraction, with a few
+associates serious as himself.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Such,&rdquo; said Pekuah, &ldquo;has often been my
+wish, and I have heard the Princess declare that she should not
+willingly die in a crowd.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The liberty of using harmless pleasures,&rdquo;
+proceeded Imlac, &ldquo;will not be disputed, but it is still to
+be examined what pleasures are harmless.&nbsp; The evil of any
+pleasure that Nekayah can image is not in the act itself but in
+its consequences.&nbsp; Pleasure in itself harmless may become
+mischievous by endearing to us a state which we know to be
+transient and probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts from that
+of which every hour brings us nearer to the beginning, and of
+which no length of time will bring us to the end.&nbsp;
+Mortification is not virtuous in itself, nor has any other use
+but that it disengages us from the allurements of sense.&nbsp; In
+the state of future perfection to which we all aspire there will
+be pleasure without danger and security without
+restraint.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Princess was silent, and Rasselas, turning to the
+astronomer, asked him whether he could not delay her retreat by
+showing her something which she had not seen before.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Your curiosity,&rdquo; said the sage, &ldquo;has been
+so general, and your pursuit of knowledge so vigorous, that
+novelties are not now very easily to be found; but what you can
+no longer procure from the living may be given by the dead.&nbsp;
+Among the wonders of this country are the catacombs, or the
+ancient repositories in which the bodies of the earliest
+generations were lodged, and where, by the virtue of the gums
+which embalmed them, they yet remain without
+corruption.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><a name="page185"></a><span class="pagenum">p.
+185</span>&ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;what
+pleasure the sight of the catacombs can afford; but, since
+nothing else is offered, I am resolved to view them, and shall
+place this with my other things which I have done because I would
+do something.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They hired a guard of horsemen, and the next day visited the
+catacombs.&nbsp; When they were about to descend into the
+sepulchral caves, &ldquo;Pekuah,&rdquo; said the Princess,
+&ldquo;we are now again invading the habitations of the dead; I
+know that you will stay behind.&nbsp; Let me find you safe when I
+return.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;No, I will not be left,&rdquo;
+answered Pekuah, &ldquo;I will go down between you and the
+Prince.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They then all descended, and roved with wonder through the
+labyrinth of subterraneous passages, where the bodies were laid
+in rows on either side.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVIII<br />
+IMLAC DISCOURSES ON THE NATURE OF THE SOUL.</h2>
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">What</span> reason,&rdquo; said the
+Prince, &ldquo;can be given why the Egyptians should thus
+expensively preserve those carcases which some nations consume
+with fire, others lay to mingle with the earth, and all agree to
+remove from their sight as soon as decent rites can be
+performed?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The original of ancient customs,&rdquo; said Imlac,
+&ldquo;is commonly unknown, for the practice often continues when
+the cause has ceased; and concerning superstitious ceremonies it
+is vain to conjecture; for what reason did not dictate, reason
+cannot explain.&nbsp; I have long believed that the practice of
+embalming arose only from tenderness to the remains of relations
+or friends; and to this opinion I am more inclined because it
+seems impossible that this care should have been general; had all
+the dead been embalmed, their repositories must in time have been
+more spacious than the dwellings of the living.&nbsp; I suppose
+only the rich or honourable were secured from corruption, and the
+rest left to the course of nature.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But it is commonly supposed that the Egyptians believed
+the soul to live as long as the body continued undissolved, and
+therefore tried this method of eluding death.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Could the wise Egyptians,&rdquo; said Nekayah,
+&ldquo;think so grossly of the soul?&nbsp; If the soul could once
+survive its separation, what could it afterwards receive or
+suffer from the body?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;The Egyptians would doubtless think erroneously,&rdquo;
+said the astronomer, &ldquo;in the darkness of heathenism and the
+first dawn of philosophy.&nbsp; The nature of the soul is still
+disputed amidst all our opportunities of clearer knowledge; some
+yet say that it may be material, who, nevertheless, believe it to
+be immortal.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Some,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;have indeed said
+that the soul is material, but I can scarcely believe that any
+man has thought it who knew how to think; for all the conclusions
+of reason enforce the immateriality of mind, and all the notices
+of sense and investigations of science concur to prove the
+unconsciousness of matter.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It was never supposed that cogitation is inherent in
+matter, or that every particle is a thinking being.&nbsp; Yet if
+any part of matter be devoid of thought, what part can we suppose
+to think?&nbsp; Matter can differ from matter only in form,
+density, bulk, motion, and direction of motion.&nbsp; To which of
+these, however varied or combined, can consciousness be
+annexed?&nbsp; To be round or square, to be solid or fluid, to be
+great or little, to be moved slowly or swiftly, one way or
+another, are modes of material existence all equally alien from
+the nature of cogitation.&nbsp; If matter be once without
+thought, it can only be made to think by some new modification;
+but all the modifications which it can admit are equally
+unconnected with cogitative powers.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But the materialists,&rdquo; said the astronomer,
+&ldquo;urge that matter may have qualities with which we are
+unacquainted.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He who will determine,&rdquo; returned Imlac,
+&ldquo;against that which he knows because there may be something
+which he knows not; he that can set hypothetical possibility
+against acknowledged certainty, is not to be admitted among
+reasonable beings.&nbsp; All that we know of matter is, that
+matter is inert, senseless, and lifeless; and if this conviction
+cannot he opposed but by referring us to something that we know
+not, we have all the evidence that human intellect can
+admit.&nbsp; If that which is known may be overruled by that
+which is unknown, no being, not omniscient, can arrive at
+certainty.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yet let us not,&rdquo; said the astronomer, &ldquo;too
+arrogantly limit the Creator&rsquo;s power.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;It is no limitation of Omnipotence,&rdquo; replied the
+poet, &ldquo;to suppose that one thing is not consistent with
+another, that the same proposition cannot be at once true and
+false, that the same number cannot be even and odd, that
+cogitation cannot be conferred on that which is created incapable
+of cogitation.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;any great use
+of this question.&nbsp; Does that immateriality, which in my
+opinion you have sufficiently proved, necessarily include eternal
+duration?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Of immateriality,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;our ideas
+are negative, and therefore obscure.&nbsp; Immateriality seems to
+imply a natural power of perpetual duration as a consequence of
+exemption from all causes of decay: whatever perishes is
+destroyed by the solution of its contexture and separation of its
+parts; nor can we conceive how that which has no parts, and
+therefore admits no solution, can be naturally corrupted or
+impaired.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;how to
+conceive anything without extension: what is extended must have
+parts, and you allow that whatever has parts may be
+destroyed.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Consider your own conceptions,&rdquo; replied Imlac,
+&ldquo;and the difficulty will be less.&nbsp; You will find
+substance without extension.&nbsp; An ideal form is no less real
+than material bulk; yet an ideal form has no extension.&nbsp; It
+is no less certain, when you think on a pyramid, that your mind
+possesses the idea of a pyramid, than that the pyramid itself is
+standing.&nbsp; What space does the idea of a pyramid occupy more
+than the idea of a grain of corn? or how can either idea suffer
+laceration?&nbsp; As is the effect, such is the cause; as
+thought, such is the power that thinks, a power impassive and
+indiscerptible.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;But the Being,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;whom I fear
+to name, the Being which made the soul, can destroy
+it.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;He surely can destroy it,&rdquo; answered Imlac,
+&ldquo;since, however imperishable, it receives from a superior
+nature its power of duration.&nbsp; That it will not perish by
+any inherent cause of decay or principle of corruption, may be
+shown by philosophy; but philosophy can tell no more.&nbsp; That
+it will not be annihilated by Him that made it, we must humbly
+learn from higher authority.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The whole assembly stood awhile silent and collected.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Let us return,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;from this
+scene of mortality.&nbsp; How gloomy would be these mansions of
+the dead to him who did not know that he should never die; that
+what now acts shall continue its agency, and what now thinks
+shall think on for ever.&nbsp; Those that lie here stretched
+before us, the wise and the powerful of ancient times, warn us to
+remember the shortness of our present state; they were perhaps
+snatched away while they were busy, like us, in the <i>choice of
+life</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;To me,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;the choice of
+life is become less important; I hope hereafter to think only on
+the choice of eternity.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>They then hastened out of the caverns, and under the
+protection of their guard returned to Cairo.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIX<br />
+THE CONCLUSION, IN WHICH NOTHING IS CONCLUDED.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was now the time of the
+inundation of the Nile.&nbsp; A few days after their visit to the
+catacombs the river began to rise.</p>
+<p>They were confined to their house.&nbsp; The whole region
+being under water, gave them no invitation to any excursions; and
+being well supplied with materials for talk, they diverted
+themselves with comparisons of the different forms of life which
+they had observed, and with various schemes of happiness which
+each of them had formed.</p>
+<p>Pekuah was never so much charmed with any place as the Convent
+of St. Anthony, where the Arab restored her to the Princess, and
+wished only to fill it with pious maidens and to be made prioress
+of the order.&nbsp; She was weary of expectation and disgust, and
+would gladly be fixed in some unvariable state.</p>
+<p>The Princess thought that, of all sublunary things, knowledge
+was the best.&nbsp; She desired first to learn all sciences, and
+then proposed to found a college of learned women, in which she
+would preside, that, by conversing with the old and educating the
+young, she might divide her time between the acquisition and
+communication of wisdom, and raise up for the next age models of
+prudence and patterns of piety.</p>
+<p>The Prince desired a little kingdom in which he might
+administer justice in his own person and see all the parts of
+government with his own eyes; but he could never fix the limits
+of his dominion, and was always adding to the number of his
+subjects.</p>
+<p>Imlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along the
+stream of life without directing their course to any particular
+port.</p>
+<p>Of those wishes that they had formed they well knew that none
+could be obtained.&nbsp; They deliberated awhile what was to be
+done, and resolved, when the inundation should cease, to return
+to Abyssinia.</p>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<div class="gapshortline">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center">Printed by Cassell &amp; Company,
+Limited, La Belle Sauvage, London, E.C.</p>
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RASSELAS***</p>
+<pre>
+
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia, by Samuel Johnson
+(#2 in our series by Samuel Johnson)
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
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+Title: Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia
+
+Author: Samuel Johnson
+
+Release Date: September, 1996 [EBook #652]
+[This file was first posted on September 17, 1996]
+[Most recently updated: September 8, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA ***
+
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1889 Cassell & Company edition by David Price,
+email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+
+
+
+
+RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I--DESCRIPTION OF A PALACE IN A VALLEY.
+
+
+
+Ye who listen with credulity to the whispers of fancy, and pursue
+with eagerness the phantoms of hope; who expect that age will
+perform the promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the
+present day will be supplied by the morrow, attend to the history
+of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia.
+
+Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty Emperor in whose
+dominions the father of waters begins his course--whose bounty
+pours down the streams of plenty, and scatters over the world the
+harvests of Egypt.
+
+According to the custom which has descended from age to age among
+the monarchs of the torrid zone, Rasselas was confined in a private
+palace, with the other sons and daughters of Abyssinian royalty,
+till the order of succession should call him to the throne.
+
+The place which the wisdom or policy of antiquity had destined for
+the residence of the Abyssinian princes was a spacious valley in
+the kingdom of Amhara, surrounded on every side by mountains, of
+which the summits overhang the middle part. The only passage by
+which it could be entered was a cavern that passed under a rock, of
+which it had long been disputed whether it was the work of nature
+or of human industry. The outlet of the cavern was concealed by a
+thick wood, and the mouth which opened into the valley was closed
+with gates of iron, forged by the artificers of ancient days, so
+massive that no man, without the help of engines, could open or
+shut them.
+
+From the mountains on every side rivulets descended that filled all
+the valley with verdure and fertility, and formed a lake in the
+middle, inhabited by fish of every species, and frequented by every
+fowl whom nature has taught to dip the wing in water. This lake
+discharged its superfluities by a stream, which entered a dark
+cleft of the mountain on the northern side, and fell with dreadful
+noise from precipice to precipice till it was heard no more.
+
+The sides of the mountains were covered with trees, the banks of
+the brooks were diversified with flowers; every blast shook spices
+from the rocks, and every month dropped fruits upon the ground.
+All animals that bite the grass or browse the shrubs, whether wild
+or tame, wandered in this extensive circuit, secured from beasts of
+prey by the mountains which confined them. On one part were flocks
+and herds feeding in the pastures, on another all the beasts of
+chase frisking in the lawns, the sprightly kid was bounding on the
+rocks, the subtle monkey frolicking in the trees, and the solemn
+elephant reposing in the shade. All the diversities of the world
+were brought together, the blessings of nature were collected, and
+its evils extracted and excluded.
+
+The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants with all
+the necessaries of life, and all delights and superfluities were
+added at the annual visit which the Emperor paid his children, when
+the iron gate was opened to the sound of music, and during eight
+days every one that resided in the valley was required to propose
+whatever might contribute to make seclusion pleasant, to fill up
+the vacancies of attention, and lessen the tediousness of time.
+Every desire was immediately granted. All the artificers of
+pleasure were called to gladden the festivity; the musicians
+exerted the power of harmony, and the dancers showed their activity
+before the princes, in hopes that they should pass their lives in
+blissful captivity, to which those only were admitted whose
+performance was thought able to add novelty to luxury. Such was
+the appearance of security and delight which this retirement
+afforded, that they to whom it was new always desired that it might
+be perpetual; and as those on whom the iron gate had once closed
+were never suffered to return, the effect of longer experience
+could not be known. Thus every year produced new scenes of
+delight, and new competitors for imprisonment.
+
+The palace stood on an eminence, raised about thirty paces above
+the surface of the lake. It was divided into many squares or
+courts, built with greater or less magnificence according to the
+rank of those for whom they were designed. The roofs were turned
+into arches of massive stone, joined by a cement that grew harder
+by time, and the building stood from century to century, deriding
+the solstitial rains and equinoctial hurricanes, without need of
+reparation.
+
+This house, which was so large as to be fully known to none but
+some ancient officers, who successively inherited the secrets of
+the place, was built as if Suspicion herself had dictated the plan.
+To every room there was an open and secret passage; every square
+had a communication with the rest, either from the upper storeys by
+private galleries, or by subterraneous passages from the lower
+apartments. Many of the columns had unsuspected cavities, in which
+a long race of monarchs had deposited their treasures. They then
+closed up the opening with marble, which was never to be removed
+but in the utmost exigences of the kingdom, and recorded their
+accumulations in a book, which was itself concealed in a tower, not
+entered but by the Emperor, attended by the prince who stood next
+in succession.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II--THE DISCONTENT OF RASSELAS IN THE HAPPY VALLEY.
+
+
+
+Here the sons and daughters of Abyssinia lived only to know the
+soft vicissitudes of pleasure and repose, attended by all that were
+skilful to delight, and gratified with whatever the senses can
+enjoy. They wandered in gardens of fragrance, and slept in the
+fortresses of security. Every art was practised to make them
+pleased with their own condition. The sages who instructed them
+told them of nothing but the miseries of public life, and described
+all beyond the mountains as regions of calamity, where discord was
+always racing, and where man preyed upon man. To heighten their
+opinion of their own felicity, they were daily entertained with
+songs, the subject of which was the Happy Valley. Their appetites
+were excited by frequent enumerations of different enjoyments, and
+revelry and merriment were the business of every hour, from the
+dawn of morning to the close of the evening.
+
+These methods were generally successful; few of the princes had
+ever wished to enlarge their bounds, but passed their lives in full
+conviction that they had all within their reach that art or nature
+could bestow, and pitied those whom nature had excluded from this
+seat of tranquillity as the sport of chance and the slaves of
+misery.
+
+Thus they rose in the morning and lay down at night, pleased with
+each other and with themselves, all but Rasselas, who, in the
+twenty-sixth year of his age, began to withdraw himself from the
+pastimes and assemblies, and to delight in solitary walks and
+silent meditation. He often sat before tables covered with luxury,
+and forgot to taste the dainties that were placed before him; he
+rose abruptly in the midst of the song, and hastily retired beyond
+the sound of music. His attendants observed the change, and
+endeavoured to renew his love of pleasure. He neglected their
+officiousness, repulsed their invitations, and spent day after day
+on the banks of rivulets sheltered with trees, where he sometimes
+listened to the birds in the branches, sometimes observed the fish
+playing in the streams, and anon cast his eyes upon the pastures
+and mountains filled with animals, of which some were biting the
+herbage, and some sleeping among the bushes. The singularity of
+his humour made him much observed. One of the sages, in whose
+conversation he had formerly delighted, followed him secretly, in
+hope of discovering the cause of his disquiet. Rasselas, who knew
+not that any one was near him, having for some time fixed his eyes
+upon the goats that were browsing among the rocks, began to compare
+their condition with his own.
+
+"What," said he, "makes the difference between man and all the rest
+of the animal creation? Every beast that strays beside me has the
+same corporal necessities with myself: he is hungry, and crops the
+grass; he is thirsty, and drinks the stream; his thirst and hunger
+are appeased; he is satisfied, and sleeps; he rises again, and is
+hungry; he is again fed, and is at rest. I am hungry and thirsty,
+like him, but when thirst and hunger cease, I am not at rest. I
+am, like him, pained with want, but am not, like him, satisfied
+with fulness. The intermediate hours are tedious and gloomy; I
+long again to be hungry that I may again quicken the attention.
+The birds peck the berries or the corn, and fly away to the groves,
+where they sit in seeming happiness on the branches, and waste
+their lives in tuning one unvaried series of sounds. I likewise
+can call the lutist and the singer; but the sounds that pleased me
+yesterday weary me to-day, and will grow yet more wearisome to-
+morrow. I can discover in me no power of perception which is not
+glutted with its proper pleasure, yet I do not feel myself
+delighted. Man surely has some latent sense for which this place
+affords no gratification; or he has some desire distinct from
+sense, which must be satisfied before he can be happy."
+
+After this he lifted up his head, and seeing the moon rising,
+walked towards the palace. As he passed through the fields, and
+saw the animals around him, "Ye," said he, "are happy, and need not
+envy me that walk thus among you, burdened with myself; nor do I,
+ye gentle beings, envy your felicity; for it is not the felicity of
+man. I have many distresses from which you are free; I fear pain
+when I do not feel it; I sometimes shrink at evils recollected, and
+sometimes start at evils anticipated: surely the equity of
+Providence has balanced peculiar sufferings with peculiar
+enjoyments."
+
+With observations like these the Prince amused himself as he
+returned, uttering them with a plaintive voice, yet with a look
+that discovered him to feel some complacence in his own
+perspicacity, and to receive some solace of the miseries of life
+from consciousness of the delicacy with which he felt and the
+eloquence with which he bewailed them. He mingled cheerfully in
+the diversions of the evening, and all rejoiced to find that his
+heart was lightened.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III--THE WANTS OF HIM THAT WANTS NOTHING.
+
+
+
+On the next day, his old instructor, imagining that he had now made
+himself acquainted with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing
+it by counsel, and officiously sought an opportunity of conference,
+which the Prince, having long considered him as one whose
+intellects were exhausted, was not very willing to afford. "Why,"
+said he, "does this man thus intrude upon me? Shall I never be
+suffered to forget these lectures, which pleased only while they
+were new, and to become new again must be forgotten?" He then
+walked into the wood, and composed himself to his usual
+meditations; when, before his thoughts had taken any settled form,
+he perceived his pursuer at his side, and was at first prompted by
+his impatience to go hastily away; but being unwilling to offend a
+man whom he had once reverenced and still loved, he invited him to
+sit down with him on the bank.
+
+The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change which had
+been lately observed in the Prince, and to inquire why he so often
+retired from the pleasures of the palace to loneliness and silence.
+"I fly from pleasure," said the Prince, "because pleasure has
+ceased to please: I am lonely because I am miserable, and am
+unwilling to cloud with my presence the happiness of others."
+"You, sir," said the sage, "are the first who has complained of
+misery in the Happy Valley. I hope to convince you that your
+complaints have no real cause. You are here in full possession of
+all the Emperor of Abyssinia can bestow; here is neither labour to
+be endured nor danger to be dreaded, yet here is all that labour or
+danger can procure or purchase. Look round and tell me which of
+your wants is without supply: if you want nothing, how are you
+unhappy?"
+
+"That I want nothing," said the Prince, "or that I know not what I
+want, is the cause of my complaint: if I had any known want, I
+should have a certain wish; that wish would excite endeavour, and I
+should not then repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the
+western mountains, or to lament when the day breaks, and sleep will
+no longer hide me from myself. When I see the kids and the lambs
+chasing one another, I fancy that I should be happy if I had
+something to pursue. But, possessing all that I can want, I find
+one day and one hour exactly like another, except that the latter
+is still more tedious than the former. Let your experience inform
+me how the day may now seem as short as in my childhood, while
+nature was yet fresh, and every moment showed me what I never had
+observed before. I have already enjoyed too much: give me
+something to desire." The old man was surprised at this new
+species of affliction, and knew not what to reply, yet was
+unwilling to be silent. "Sir," said he, "if you had seen the
+miseries of the world, you would know how to value your present
+state." "Now," said the Prince, "you have given me something to
+desire. I shall long to see the miseries of the world, since the
+sight of them is necessary to happiness."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV--THE PRINCE CONTINUES TO GRIEVE AND MUSE.
+
+
+
+At this time the sound of music proclaimed the hour of repast, and
+the conversation was concluded. The old man went away sufficiently
+discontented to find that his reasonings had produced the only
+conclusion which they were intended to prevent. But in the decline
+of life, shame and grief are of short duration: whether it be that
+we bear easily what we have borne long; or that, finding ourselves
+in age less regarded, we less regard others; or that we look with
+slight regard upon afflictions to which we know that the hand of
+death is about to put an end.
+
+The Prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could not
+speedily quiet his emotions. He had been before terrified at the
+length of life which nature promised him, because he considered
+that in a long time much must be endured: he now rejoiced in his
+youth, because in many years much might be done. The first beam of
+hope that had been ever darted into his mind rekindled youth in his
+cheeks, and doubled the lustre of his eyes. He was fired with the
+desire of doing something, though he knew not yet, with
+distinctness, either end or means. He was now no longer gloomy and
+unsocial; but considering himself as master of a secret stock of
+happiness, which he could only enjoy by concealing it, he affected
+to be busy in all the schemes of diversion, and endeavoured to make
+others pleased with the state of which he himself was weary. But
+pleasures can never be so multiplied or continued as not to leave
+much of life unemployed; there were many hours, both of the night
+and day, which he could spend without suspicion in solitary
+thought. The load of life was much lightened; he went eagerly into
+the assemblies, because he supposed the frequency of his presence
+necessary to the success of his purposes; he retired gladly to
+privacy, because he had now a subject of thought. His chief
+amusement was to picture to himself that world which he had never
+seen, to place himself in various conditions, to be entangled in
+imaginary difficulties, and to be engaged in wild adventures; but,
+his benevolence always terminated his projects in the relief of
+distress, the detection of fraud, the defeat of oppression, and the
+diffusion of happiness.
+
+Thus passed twenty months of the life of Rasselas. He busied
+himself so intensely in visionary bustle that he forgot his real
+solitude; and amidst hourly preparations for the various incidents
+of human affairs, neglected to consider by what means he should
+mingle with mankind.
+
+One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself an
+orphan virgin robbed of her little portion by a treacherous lover,
+and crying after him for restitution. So strongly was the image
+impressed upon his mind that he started up in the maid's defence,
+and ran forward to seize the plunderer with all the eagerness of
+real pursuit. Fear naturally quickens the flight of guilt.
+Rasselas could not catch the fugitive with his utmost efforts; but,
+resolving to weary by perseverance him whom he could not surpass in
+speed, he pressed on till the foot of the mountain stopped his
+course.
+
+Here he recollected himself, and smiled at his own useless
+impetuosity. Then raising his eyes to the mountain, "This," said
+he, "is the fatal obstacle that hinders at once the enjoyment of
+pleasure and the exercise of virtue. How long is it that my hopes
+and wishes have flown beyond this boundary of my life, which yet I
+never have attempted to surmount?"
+
+Struck with this reflection, he sat down to muse, and remembered
+that since he first resolved to escape from his confinement, the
+sun had passed twice over him in his annual course. He now felt a
+degree of regret with which he had never been before acquainted.
+He considered how much might have been done in the time which had
+passed, and left nothing real behind it. He compared twenty months
+with the life of man. "In life," said he, "is not to be counted
+the ignorance of infancy or imbecility of age. We are long before
+we are able to think, and we soon cease from the power of acting.
+The true period of human existence may be reasonably estimated at
+forty years, of which I have mused away the four-and-twentieth
+part. What I have lost was certain, for I have certainly possessed
+it; but of twenty months to come, who can assure me?"
+
+The consciousness of his own folly pierced him deeply, and he was
+long before he could be reconciled to himself. "The rest of my
+time," said he, "has been lost by the crime or folly of my
+ancestors, and the absurd institutions of my country; I remember it
+with disgust, yet without remorse: but the months that have passed
+since new light darted into my soul, since I formed a scheme of
+reasonable felicity, have been squandered by my own fault. I have
+lost that which can never be restored; I have seen the sun rise and
+set for twenty months, an idle gazer on the light of heaven; in
+this time the birds have left the nest of their mother, and
+committed themselves to the woods and to the skies; the kid has
+forsaken the teat, and learned by degrees to climb the rocks in
+quest of independent sustenance. I only have made no advances, but
+am still helpless and ignorant. The moon, by more than twenty
+changes, admonished me of the flux of life; the stream that rolled
+before my feet upbraided my inactivity. I sat feasting on
+intellectual luxury, regardless alike of the examples of the earth
+and the instructions of the planets. Twenty months are passed:
+who shall restore them?"
+
+These sorrowful meditations fastened upon his mind; he passed four
+months in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves, and was
+awakened to more vigorous exertion by hearing a maid, who had
+broken a porcelain cup, remark that what cannot be repaired is not
+to be regretted.
+
+This was obvious; and Rasselas reproached himself that he had not
+discovered it--having not known, or not considered, how many useful
+hints are obtained by chance, and how often the mind, hurried by
+her own ardour to distant views, neglects the truths that lie open
+before her. He for a few hours regretted his regret, and from that
+time bent his whole mind upon the means of escaping from the Valley
+of Happiness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V--THE PRINCE MEDITATES HIS ESCAPE.
+
+
+
+He now found that it would be very difficult to effect that which
+it was very easy to suppose effected. When he looked round about
+him, he saw himself confined by the bars of nature, which had never
+yet been broken, and by the gate through which none that had once
+passed it were ever able to return. He was now impatient as an
+eagle in a grate. He passed week after week in clambering the
+mountains to see if there was any aperture which the bushes might
+conceal, but found all the summits inaccessible by their
+prominence. The iron gate he despaired to open for it was not only
+secured with all the power of art, but was always watched by
+successive sentinels, and was, by its position, exposed to the
+perpetual observation of all the inhabitants.
+
+He then examined the cavern through which the waters of the lake
+were discharged; and, looking down at a time when the sun shone
+strongly upon its mouth, he discovered it to be full of broken
+rocks, which, though they permitted the stream to flow through many
+narrow passages, would stop any body of solid bulk. He returned
+discouraged and dejected; but having now known the blessing of
+hope, resolved never to despair.
+
+In these fruitless researches he spent ten months. The time,
+however, passed cheerfully away--in the morning he rose with new
+hope; in the evening applauded his own diligence; and in the night
+slept soundly after his fatigue. He met a thousand amusements,
+which beguiled his labour and diversified his thoughts. He
+discerned the various instincts of animals and properties of
+plants, and found the place replete with wonders, of which he
+proposed to solace himself with the contemplation if he should
+never be able to accomplish his flight--rejoicing that his
+endeavours, though yet unsuccessful, had supplied him with a source
+of inexhaustible inquiry. But his original curiosity was not yet
+abated; he resolved to obtain some knowledge of the ways of men.
+His wish still continued, but his hope grew less. He ceased to
+survey any longer the walls of his prison, and spared to search by
+new toils for interstices which he knew could not be found, yet
+determined to keep his design always in view, and lay hold on any
+expedient that time should offer.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI--A DISSERTATION ON THE ART OF FLYING.
+
+
+
+Among the artists that had been allured into the Happy Valley, to
+labour for the accommodation and pleasure of its inhabitants, was a
+man eminent for his knowledge of the mechanic powers, who had
+contrived many engines both of use and recreation. By a wheel
+which the stream turned he forced the water into a tower, whence it
+was distributed to all the apartments of the palace. He erected a
+pavilion in the garden, around which he kept the air always cool by
+artificial showers. One of the groves, appropriated to the ladies,
+was ventilated by fans, to which the rivulets that ran through it
+gave a constant motion; and instruments of soft music were played
+at proper distances, of which some played by the impulse of the
+wind, and some by the power of the stream.
+
+This artist was sometimes visited by Rasselas who was pleased with
+every kind of knowledge, imagining that the time would come when
+all his acquisitions should be of use to him in the open world. He
+came one day to amuse himself in his usual manner, and found the
+master busy in building a sailing chariot. He saw that the design
+was practicable upon a level surface, and with expressions of great
+esteem solicited its completion. The workman was pleased to find
+himself so much regarded by the Prince, and resolved to gain yet
+higher honours. "Sir," said he, "you have seen but a small part of
+what the mechanic sciences can perform. I have been long of
+opinion that, instead of the tardy conveyance of ships and
+chariots, man might use the swifter migration of wings, that the
+fields of air are open to knowledge, and that only ignorance and
+idleness need crawl upon the ground."
+
+This hint rekindled the Prince's desire of passing the mountains.
+Having seen what the mechanist had already performed, he was
+willing to fancy that he could do more, yet resolved to inquire
+further before he suffered hope to afflict him by disappointment.
+"I am afraid," said he to the artist, "that your imagination
+prevails over your skill, and that you now tell me rather what you
+wish than what you know. Every animal has his element assigned
+him; the birds have the air, and man and beasts the earth." "So,"
+replied the mechanist, "fishes have the water, in which yet beasts
+can swim by nature and man by art. He that can swim needs not
+despair to fly; to swim is to fly in a grosser fluid, and to fly is
+to swim in a subtler. We are only to proportion our power of
+resistance to the different density of matter through which we are
+to pass. You will be necessarily up-borne by the air if you can
+renew any impulse upon it faster than the air can recede from the
+pressure."
+
+"But the exercise of swimming," said the Prince, "is very
+laborious; the strongest limbs are soon wearied. I am afraid the
+act of flying will be yet more violent; and wings will be of no
+great use unless we can fly further than we can swim."
+
+"The labour of rising from the ground," said the artist, "will be
+great, as we see it in the heavier domestic fowls; but as we mount
+higher the earth's attraction and the body's gravity will be
+gradually diminished, till we shall arrive at a region where the
+man shall float in the air without any tendency to fall; no care
+will then be necessary but to move forward, which the gentlest
+impulse will effect. You, sir, whose curiosity is so extensive,
+will easily conceive with what pleasure a philosopher, furnished
+with wings and hovering in the sky, would see the earth and all its
+inhabitants rolling beneath him, and presenting to him
+successively, by its diurnal motion, all the countries within the
+same parallel. How must it amuse the pendent spectator to see the
+moving scene of land and ocean, cities and deserts; to survey with
+equal security the marts of trade and the fields of battle;
+mountains infested by barbarians, and fruitful regions gladdened by
+plenty and lulled by peace. How easily shall we then trace the
+Nile through all his passages, pass over to distant regions, and
+examine the face of nature from one extremity of the earth to the
+other."
+
+"All this," said the Prince, "is much to be desired, but I am
+afraid that no man will be able to breathe in these regions of
+speculation and tranquillity. I have been told that respiration is
+difficult upon lofty mountains, yet from these precipices, though
+so high as to produce great tenuity of air, it is very easy to
+fall; therefore I suspect that from any height where life can be
+supported, there may be danger of too quick descent."
+
+"Nothing," replied the artist, "will ever be attempted if all
+possible objections must be first overcome. If you will favour my
+project, I will try the first flight at my own hazard. I have
+considered the structure of all volant animals, and find the
+folding continuity of the bat's wings most easily accommodated to
+the human form. Upon this model I shall begin my task to-morrow,
+and in a year expect to tower into the air beyond the malice and
+pursuit of man. But I will work only on this condition, that the
+art shall not be divulged, and that you shall not require me to
+make wings for any but ourselves."
+
+"Why," said Rasselas, "should you envy others so great an
+advantage? All skill ought to be exerted for universal good; every
+man has owed much to others, and ought to repay the kindness that
+he has received."
+
+"If men were all virtuous," returned the artist, "I should with
+great alacrity teach them to fly. But what would be the security
+of the good if the bad could at pleasure invade them from the sky?
+Against an army sailing through the clouds neither walls,
+mountains, nor seas could afford security. A flight of northern
+savages might hover in the wind and light with irresistible
+violence upon the capital of a fruitful reason. Even this valley,
+the retreat of princes, the abode of happiness, might be violated
+by the sudden descent of some of the naked nations that swarm on
+the coast of the southern sea!"
+
+The Prince promised secrecy, and waited for the performance, not
+wholly hopeless of success. He visited the work from time to time,
+observed its progress, and remarked many ingenious contrivances to
+facilitate motion and unite levity with strength. The artist was
+every day more certain that he should leave vultures and eagles
+behind him, and the contagion of his confidence seized upon the
+Prince. In a year the wings were finished; and on a morning
+appointed the maker appeared, furnished for flight, on a little
+promontory; he waved his pinions awhile to gather air, then leaped
+from his stand, and in an instant dropped into the lake. His
+wings, which were of no use in the air, sustained him in the water;
+and the Prince drew him to land half dead with terror and vexation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII-- THE PRINCE FINDS A MAN OF LEARNING.
+
+
+
+The Prince was not much afflicted by this disaster, having suffered
+himself to hope for a happier event only because he had no other
+means of escape in view. He still persisted in his design to leave
+the Happy Valley by the first opportunity.
+
+His imagination was now at a stand; he had no prospect of entering
+into the world, and, notwithstanding all his endeavours to support
+himself, discontent by degrees preyed upon him, and he began again
+to lose his thoughts in sadness when the rainy season, which in
+these countries is periodical, made it inconvenient to wander in
+the woods.
+
+The rain continued longer and with more violence than had ever been
+known; the clouds broke on the surrounding mountains, and the
+torrents streamed into the plain on every side, till the cavern was
+too narrow to discharge the water. The lake overflowed its banks,
+and all the level of the valley was covered with the inundation.
+The eminence on which the palace was built, and some other spots of
+rising ground, were all that the eye could now discover. The herds
+and flocks left the pasture, and both the wild beasts and the tame
+retreated to the mountains.
+
+This inundation confined all the princes to domestic amusements,
+and the attention of Rasselas was particularly seized by a poem
+(which Imlac rehearsed) upon the various conditions of humanity.
+He commanded the poet to attend him in his apartment, and recite
+his verses a second time; then entering into familiar talk, he
+thought himself happy in having found a man who knew the world so
+well, and could so skilfully paint the scenes of life. He asked a
+thousand questions about things to which, though common to all
+other mortals, his confinement from childhood had kept him a
+stranger. The poet pitied his ignorance, and loved his curiosity,
+and entertained him from day to day with novelty and instruction so
+that the Prince regretted the necessity of sleep, and longed till
+the morning should renew his pleasure.
+
+As they were sitting together, the Prince commanded Imlac to relate
+his history, and to tell by what accident he was forced, or by what
+motive induced, to close his life in the Happy Valley. As he was
+going to begin his narrative, Rasselas was called to a concert, and
+obliged to restrain his curiosity till the evening.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII--THE HISTORY OF IMLAC.
+
+
+
+The close of the day is, in the regions of the torrid zone, the
+only season of diversion and entertainment, and it was therefore
+midnight before the music ceased and the princesses retired.
+Rasselas then called for his companion, and required him to begin
+the story of his life.
+
+"Sir," said Imlac, "my history will not be long: the life that is
+devoted to knowledge passes silently away, and is very little
+diversified by events. To talk in public, to think in solitude, to
+read and to hear, to inquire and answer inquiries, is the business
+of a scholar. He wanders about the world without pomp or terror,
+and is neither known nor valued but by men like himself.
+
+"I was born in the kingdom of Goiama, at no great distance from the
+fountain of the Nile. My father was a wealthy merchant, who traded
+between the inland countries of Africa and the ports of the Red
+Sea. He was honest, frugal, and diligent, but of mean sentiments
+and narrow comprehension; he desired only to be rich, and to
+conceal his riches, lest he should be spoiled by the governors of
+the province."
+
+"Surely," said the Prince, "my father must be negligent of his
+charge if any man in his dominions dares take that which belongs to
+another. Does he not know that kings are accountable for injustice
+permitted as well as done? If I were Emperor, not the meanest of
+my subjects should he oppressed with impunity. My blood boils when
+I am told that a merchant durst not enjoy his honest gains for fear
+of losing them by the rapacity of power. Name the governor who
+robbed the people that I may declare his crimes to the Emperor!"
+
+"Sir," said Imlac, "your ardour is the natural effect of virtue
+animated by youth. The time will come when you will acquit your
+father, and perhaps hear with less impatience of the governor.
+Oppression is, in the Abyssinian dominions, neither frequent nor
+tolerated; but no form of government has been yet discovered by
+which cruelty can be wholly prevented. Subordination supposes
+power on one part and subjection on the other; and if power be in
+the hands of men it will sometimes be abused. The vigilance of the
+supreme magistrate may do much, but much will still remain undone.
+He can never know all the crimes that are committed, and can seldom
+punish all that he knows."
+
+"This," said the Prince, "I do not understand; but I had rather
+hear thee than dispute. Continue thy narration."
+
+"My father," proceeded Imlac, "originally intended that I should
+have no other education than such as might qualify me for commerce;
+and discovering in me great strength of memory and quickness of
+apprehension, often declared his hope that I should be some time
+the richest man in Abyssinia."
+
+"Why," said the Prince, "did thy father desire the increase of his
+wealth when it was already greater than he durst discover or enjoy?
+I am unwilling to doubt thy veracity, yet inconsistencies cannot
+both be true."
+
+"Inconsistencies," answered Imlac, "cannot both be right; but,
+imputed to man, they may both be true. Yet diversity is not
+inconsistency. My father might expect a time of greater security.
+However, some desire is necessary to keep life in motion; and he
+whose real wants are supplied must admit those of fancy."
+
+"This," said the Prince, "I can in some measure conceive. I repent
+that I interrupted thee."
+
+"With this hope," proceeded Imlac, "he sent me to school. But when
+I had once found the delight of knowledge, and felt the pleasure of
+intelligence and the pride of invention, I began silently to
+despise riches, and determined to disappoint the purposes of my
+father, whose grossness of conception raised my pity. I was twenty
+years old before his tenderness would expose me to the fatigue of
+travel; in which time I had been instructed, by successive masters,
+in all the literature of my native country. As every hour taught
+me something new, I lived in a continual course of gratification;
+but as I advanced towards manhood, I lost much of the reverence
+with which I had been used to look on my instructors; because when
+the lessons were ended I did not find them wiser or better than
+common men.
+
+"At length my father resolved to initiate me in commerce; and,
+opening one of his subterranean treasuries, counted out ten
+thousand pieces of gold. 'This, young man,' said he, 'is the stock
+with which you must negotiate. I began with less than a fifth
+part, and you see how diligence and parsimony have increased it.
+This is your own, to waste or improve. If you squander it by
+negligence or caprice, you must wait for my death before you will
+be rich; if in four years you double your stock, we will
+thenceforward let subordination cease, and live together as friends
+and partners, for he shall be always equal with me who is equally
+skilled in the art of growing rich.'
+
+"We laid out our money upon camels, concealed in bales of cheap
+goods, and travelled to the shore of the Red Sea. When I cast my
+eye on the expanse of waters, my heart bounded like that of a
+prisoner escaped. I felt an inextinguishable curiosity kindle in
+my mind, and resolved to snatch this opportunity of seeing the
+manners of other nations, and of learning sciences unknown in
+Abyssinia.
+
+"I remembered that my father had obliged me to the improvement of
+my stock, not by a promise, which I ought not to violate, but by a
+penalty, which I was at liberty to incur; and therefore determined
+to gratify my predominant desire, and, by drinking at the fountain
+of knowledge, to quench the thirst of curiosity.
+
+"As I was supposed to trade without connection with my father, it
+was easy for me to become acquainted with the master of a ship, and
+procure a passage to some other country. I had no motives of
+choice to regulate my voyage. It was sufficient for me that,
+wherever I wandered, I should see a country which I had not seen
+before. I therefore entered a ship bound for Surat, having left a
+letter for my father declaring my intention."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX--THE HISTORY OF IMLAC (continued).
+
+
+
+"When I first entered upon the world of waters, and lost sight of
+land, I looked round about me in pleasing terror, and thinking my
+soul enlarged by the boundless prospect, imagined that I could gaze
+around me for ever without satiety; but in a short time I grew
+weary of looking on barren uniformity, where I could only see again
+what I had already seen. I then descended into the ship, and
+doubted for awhile whether all my future pleasures would not end,
+like this, in disgust and disappointment. 'Yet surely,' said I,
+'the ocean and the land are very different. The only variety of
+water is rest and motion. But the earth has mountains and valleys,
+deserts and cities; it is inhabited by men of different customs and
+contrary opinions; and I may hope to find variety in life, though I
+should miss it in nature.'
+
+"With this thought I quieted my mind, and amused myself during the
+voyage, sometimes by learning from the sailors the art of
+navigation, which I have never practised, and sometimes by forming
+schemes for my conduct in different situations, in not one of which
+I have been ever placed.
+
+"I was almost weary of my naval amusements when we safely landed at
+Surat. I secured my money and, purchasing some commodities for
+show, joined myself to a caravan that was passing into the inland
+country. My companions, for some reason or other, conjecturing
+that I was rich, and, by my inquiries and admiration, finding that
+I was ignorant, considered me as a novice whom they had a right to
+cheat, and who was to learn, at the usual expense, the art of
+fraud. They exposed me to the theft of servants and the exaction
+of officers, and saw me plundered upon false pretences, without any
+advantage to themselves but that of rejoicing in the superiority of
+their own knowledge."
+
+"Stop a moment," said the Prince; "is there such depravity in man
+as that he should injure another without benefit to himself? I can
+easily conceive that all are pleased with superiority; but your
+ignorance was merely accidental, which, being neither your crime
+nor your folly, could afford them no reason to applaud themselves;
+and the knowledge which they had, and which you wanted, they might
+as effectually have shown by warning as betraying you."
+
+"Pride," said Imlac, "is seldom delicate; it will please itself
+with very mean advantages, and envy feels not its own happiness but
+when it may be compared with the misery of others. They were my
+enemies because they grieved to think me rich, and my oppressors
+because they delighted to find me weak."
+
+"Proceed," said the Prince; "I doubt not of the facts which you
+relate, but imagine that you impute them to mistaken motives."
+
+"In this company," said Imlac, "I arrived at Agra, the capital of
+Hindostan, the city in which the Great Mogul commonly resides. I
+applied myself to the language of the country, and in a few months
+was able to converse with the learned men; some of whom I found
+morose and reserved, and others easy and communicative; some were
+unwilling to teach another what they had with difficulty learned
+themselves; and some showed that the end of their studies was to
+gain the dignity of instructing.
+
+"To the tutor of the young princes I recommended myself so much
+that I was presented to the Emperor as a man of uncommon knowledge.
+The Emperor asked me many questions concerning my country and my
+travels, and though I cannot now recollect anything that he uttered
+above the power of a common man, he dismissed me astonished at his
+wisdom and enamoured of his goodness.
+
+"My credit was now so high that the merchants with whom I had
+travelled applied to me for recommendations to the ladies of the
+Court. I was surprised at their confidence of solicitation and
+greatly reproached them with their practices on the road. They
+heard me with cold indifference, and showed no tokens of shame or
+sorrow.
+
+"They then urged their request with the offer of a bribe, but what
+I would not do for kindness I would not do for money, and refused
+them, not because they had injured me, but because I would not
+enable them to injure others; for I knew they would have made use
+of my credit to cheat those who should buy their wares.
+
+"Having resided at Agra till there was no more to be learned, I
+travelled into Persia, where I saw many remains of ancient
+magnificence and observed many new accommodations of life. The
+Persians are a nation eminently social, and their assemblies
+afforded me daily opportunities of remarking characters and
+manners, and of tracing human nature through all its variations.
+
+"From Persia I passed into Arabia, where I saw a nation pastoral
+and warlike, who lived without any settled habitation, whose wealth
+is their flocks and herds, and who have carried on through ages an
+hereditary war with mankind, though they neither covet nor envy
+their possessions."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X--IMLAC'S HISTORY (continued)--A DISSERTATION UPON POETRY.
+
+
+
+"Wherever I went I found that poetry was considered as the highest
+learning, and regarded with a veneration somewhat approaching to
+that which man would pay to angelic nature. And yet it fills me
+with wonder that in almost all countries the most ancient poets are
+considered as the best; whether it be that every other kind of
+knowledge is an acquisition greatly attained, and poetry is a gift
+conferred at once; or that the first poetry of every nation
+surprised them as a novelty, and retained the credit by consent
+which it received by accident at first; or whether, as the province
+of poetry is to describe nature and passion, which are always the
+same, the first writers took possession of the most striking
+objects for description and the most probable occurrences for
+fiction, and left nothing to those that followed them but
+transcription of the same events and new combinations of the same
+images. Whatever be the reason, it is commonly observed that the
+early writers are in possession of nature, and their followers of
+art; that the first excel in strength and invention, and the latter
+in elegance and refinement.
+
+"I was desirous to add my name to this illustrious fraternity. I
+read all the poets of Persia and Arabia, and was able to repeat by
+memory the volumes that are suspended in the mosque of Mecca. But
+I soon found that no man was ever great by imitations. My desire
+of excellence impelled me to transfer my attention to nature and to
+life. Nature was to be my subject, and men to be my auditors. I
+could never describe what I had not seen. I could not hope to move
+those with delight or terror whose interests and opinions I did not
+understand.
+
+Being now resolved to be a poet, I saw everything with a new
+purpose; my sphere of attention was suddenly magnified; no kind of
+knowledge was to be overlooked. I ranged mountains and deserts for
+images and resemblances, and pictured upon my mind every tree of
+the forest and flower of the valley. I observed with equal care
+the crags of the rock and the pinnacles of the palace. Sometimes I
+wandered along the mazes of the rivulet, and sometimes watched the
+changes of the summer clouds. To a poet nothing can be useless.
+Whatever is beautiful and whatever is dreadful must be familiar to
+his imagination; he must be conversant with all that is awfully
+vast or elegantly little. The plants of the garden, the animals of
+the wood, the minerals of the earth, and meteors of the sky, must
+all concur to store his mind with inexhaustible variety; for every
+idea is useful for the enforcement or decoration of moral or
+religious truth, and he who knows most will have most power of
+diversifying his scenes and of gratifying his reader with remote
+allusions and unexpected instruction.
+
+"All the appearances of nature I was therefore careful to study,
+and every country which I have surveyed has contributed something
+to my poetical powers."
+
+"In so wide a survey," said the Prince, "you must surely have left
+much unobserved. I have lived till now within the circuit of the
+mountains, and yet cannot walk abroad without the sight of
+something which I had never beheld before, or never heeded."
+
+"This business of a poet," said Imlac, "is to examine, not the
+individual, but the species; to remark general properties and large
+appearances. He does not number the streaks of the tulip, or
+describe the different shades of the verdure of the forest. He is
+to exhibit in his portraits of nature such prominent and striking
+features as recall the original to every mind, and must neglect the
+minuter discriminations, which one may have remarked and another
+have neglected, for those characteristics which are alike obvious
+to vigilance and carelessness.
+
+"But the knowledge of nature is only half the task of a poet; he
+must be acquainted likewise with all the modes of life. His
+character requires that he estimate the happiness and misery of
+every condition, observe the power of all the passions in all their
+combinations, and trace the changes of the human mind, as they are
+modified by various institutions and accidental influences of
+climate or custom, from the sprightliness of infancy to the
+despondence of decrepitude. He must divest himself of the
+prejudices of his age and country; he must consider right and wrong
+in their abstracted and invariable state; he must disregard present
+laws and opinions, and rise to general and transcendental truths,
+which will always be the same. He must, therefore, content himself
+with the slow progress of his name, contemn the praise of his own
+time, and commit his claims to the justice of posterity. He must
+write as the interpreter of nature and the legislator of mankind,
+and consider himself as presiding over the thoughts and manners of
+future generations, as a being superior to time and place.
+
+"His labour is not yet at an end. He must know many languages and
+many sciences, and, that his style may be worthy of his thoughts,
+must by incessant practice familiarise to himself every delicacy of
+speech and grace of harmony."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI--IMLAC'S NARRATIVE (continued)--A HINT OF PILGRIMAGE.
+
+
+
+Imlac now felt the enthusiastic fit, and was proceeding to
+aggrandise his own profession, when then Prince cried out:
+"Enough! thou hast convinced me that no human being can ever be a
+poet. Proceed with thy narration."
+
+"To be a poet," said Imlac, "is indeed very difficult."
+
+"So difficult," returned the Prince, "that I will at present hear
+no more of his labours. Tell me whither you went when you had seen
+Persia."
+
+"From Persia," said the poet, "I travelled through Syria, and for
+three years resided in Palestine, where I conversed with great
+numbers of the northern and western nations of Europe, the nations
+which are now in possession of all power and all knowledge, whose
+armies are irresistible, and whose fleets command the remotest
+parts of the globe. When I compared these men with the natives of
+our own kingdom and those that surround us, they appeared almost
+another order of beings. In their countries it is difficult to
+wish for anything that may not be obtained; a thousand arts, of
+which we never heard, are continually labouring for their
+convenience and pleasure, and whatever their own climate has denied
+them is supplied by their commerce."
+
+"By what means," said the Prince, "are the Europeans thus powerful?
+or why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa for trade or
+conquest, cannot the Asiatics and Africans invade their coast,
+plant colonies in their ports, and give laws to their natural
+princes? The same wind that carries them back would bring us
+thither."
+
+"They are more powerful, sir, than we," answered Imlac, "because
+they are wiser; knowledge will always predominate over ignorance,
+as man governs the other animals. But why their knowledge is more
+than ours I know not what reason can be given but the unsearchable
+will of the Supreme Being."
+
+"When," said the Prince with a sigh, "shall I be able to visit
+Palestine, and mingle with this mighty confluence of nations? Till
+that happy moment shall arrive, let me fill up the time with such
+representations as thou canst give me. I am not ignorant of the
+motive that assembles such numbers in that place, and cannot but
+consider it as the centre of wisdom and piety, to which the best
+and wisest men of every land must be continually resorting."
+
+"There are some nations," said Imlac, "that send few visitants to
+Palestine; for many numerous and learned sects in Europe concur to
+censure pilgrimage as superstitious, or deride it as ridiculous."
+
+"You know," said the Prince, "how little my life has made me
+acquainted with diversity of opinions; it will be too long to hear
+the arguments on both sides; you, that have considered them, tell
+me the result."
+
+"Pilgrimage," said Imlac, "like many other acts of piety, may be
+reasonable or superstitious, according to the principles upon which
+it is performed. Long journeys in search of truth are not
+commanded. Truth, such as is necessary to the regulation of life,
+is always found where it is honestly sought. Change of place is no
+natural cause of the increase of piety, for it inevitably produces
+dissipation of mind. Yet, since men go every day to view the
+fields where great actions have been performed, and return with
+stronger impressions of the event, curiosity of the same kind may
+naturally dispose us to view that country whence our religion had
+its beginning, and I believe no man surveys those awful scenes
+without some confirmation of holy resolutions. That the Supreme
+Being may be more easily propitiated in one place than in another
+is the dream of idle superstition, but that some places may operate
+upon our own minds in an uncommon manner is an opinion which hourly
+experience will justify. He who supposes that his vices may be
+more successfully combated in Palestine, will perhaps find himself
+mistaken; yet he may go thither without folly; he who thinks they
+will be more freely pardoned, dishonours at once his reason and
+religion."
+
+"These," said the Prince, "are European distinctions. I will
+consider them another time. What have you found to be the effect
+of knowledge? Are those nations happier than we?"
+
+"There is so much infelicity," said the poet, "in the world, that
+scarce any man has leisure from his own distresses to estimate the
+comparative happiness of others. Knowledge is certainly one of the
+means of pleasure, as is confessed by the natural desire which
+every mind feels of increasing its ideas. Ignorance is mere
+privation, by which nothing can be produced; it is a vacuity in
+which the soul sits motionless and torpid for want of attraction,
+and, without knowing why, we always rejoice when we learn, and
+grieve when we forget. I am therefore inclined to conclude that if
+nothing counteracts the natural consequence of learning, we grow
+more happy as out minds take a wider range.
+
+"In enumerating the particular comforts of life, we shall find many
+advantages on the side of the Europeans. They cure wounds and
+diseases with which we languish and perish. We suffer inclemencies
+of weather which they can obviate. They have engines for the
+despatch of many laborious works, which we must perform by manual
+industry. There is such communication between distant places that
+one friend can hardly be said to be absent from another. Their
+policy removes all public inconveniences; they have roads cut
+through the mountains, and bridges laid over their rivers. And, if
+we descend to the privacies of life, their habitations are more
+commodious and their possessions are more secure."
+
+"They are surely happy," said the Prince, "who have all these
+conveniences, of which I envy none so much as the facility with
+which separated friends interchange their thoughts."
+
+"The Europeans," answered Imlac, "are less unhappy than we, but
+they are not happy. Human life is everywhere a state in which much
+is to be endured and little to be enjoyed."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII--THE STORY OF IMLAC (continued).
+
+
+
+"I am not willing," said the Prince, "to suppose that happiness is
+so parsimoniously distributed to mortals, nor can I believe but
+that, if I had the choice of life, I should be able to fill every
+day with pleasure. I would injure no man, and should provoke no
+resentments; I would relieve every distress, and should enjoy the
+benedictions of gratitude. I would choose my friends among the
+wise and my wife among the virtuous, and therefore should be in no
+danger from treachery or unkindness. My children should by my care
+be learned and pious, and would repay to my age what their
+childhood had received. What would dare to molest him who might
+call on every side to thousands enriched by his bounty or assisted
+by his power? And why should not life glide away in the soft
+reciprocation of protection and reverence? All this may be done
+without the help of European refinements, which appear by their
+effects to be rather specious than useful. Let us leave them and
+pursue our journey."
+
+"From Palestine," said Imlac, "I passed through many regions of
+Asia; in the more civilised kingdoms as a trader, and among the
+barbarians of the mountains as a pilgrim. At last I began to long
+for my native country, that I might repose after my travels and
+fatigues in the places where I had spent my earliest years, and
+gladden my old companions with the recital of my adventures. Often
+did I figure to myself those with whom I had sported away the gay
+hours of dawning life, sitting round me in its evening, wondering
+at my tales and listening to my counsels.
+
+"When this thought had taken possession of my mind, I considered
+every moment as wasted which did not bring me nearer to Abyssinia.
+I hastened into Egypt, and, notwithstanding my impatience, was
+detained ten months in the contemplation of its ancient
+magnificence and in inquiries after the remains of its ancient
+learning. I found in Cairo a mixture of all nations: some brought
+thither by the love of knowledge, some by the hope of gain; many by
+the desire of living after their own manner without observation,
+and of lying hid in the obscurity of multitudes; for in a city
+populous as Cairo it is possible to obtain at the same time the
+gratifications of society and the secrecy of solitude.
+
+"From Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked on the Red Sea,
+passing along the coast till I arrived at the port from which I had
+departed twenty years before. Here I joined myself to a caravan,
+and re-entered my native country.
+
+"I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen and the congratulations
+of my friends, and was not without hope that my father, whatever
+value he had set upon riches, would own with gladness and pride a
+son who was able to add to the felicity and honour of the nation.
+But I was soon convinced that my thoughts were vain. My father had
+been dead fourteen years, having divided his wealth among my
+brothers, who were removed to some other provinces. Of my
+companions, the greater part was in the grave; of the rest, some
+could with difficulty remember me, and some considered me as one
+corrupted by foreign manners.
+
+"A man used to vicissitudes is not easily dejected. I forgot,
+after a time, my disappointment, and endeavoured to recommend
+myself to the nobles of the kingdom; they admitted me to their
+tables, heard my story, and dismissed me. I opened a school, and
+was prohibited to teach. I then resolved to sit down in the quiet
+of domestic life, and addressed a lady that was fond of my
+conversation, but rejected my suit because my father was a
+merchant.
+
+"Wearied at last with solicitation and repulses, I resolved to hide
+myself for ever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion
+or caprice of others. I waited for the time when the gate of the
+Happy Valley should open, that I might bid farewell to hope and
+fear; the day came, my performance was distinguished with favour,
+and I resigned myself with joy to perpetual confinement."
+
+"Hast thou here found happiness at last?" said Rasselas. "Tell me,
+without reserve, art thou content with thy condition, or dost thou
+wish to be again wandering and inquiring? All the inhabitants of
+this valley celebrate their lot, and at the annual visit of the
+Emperor invite others to partake of their felicity."
+
+"Great Prince," said Imlac, "I shall speak the truth. I know not
+one of all your attendants who does not lament the hour when he
+entered this retreat. I am less unhappy than the rest, because I
+have a mind replete with images, which I can vary and combine at
+pleasure. I can amuse my solitude by the renovation of the
+knowledge which begins to fade from my memory, and by recollection
+of the accidents of my past life. Yet all this ends in the
+sorrowful consideration that my acquirements are now useless, and
+that none of my pleasures can be again enjoyed. The rest, whose
+minds have no impression but of the present moment, are either
+corroded by malignant passions or sit stupid in the gloom of
+perpetual vacancy."
+
+"What passions can infest those," said the Prince, "who have no
+rivals? We are in a place where impotence precludes malice, and
+where all envy is repressed by community of enjoyments."
+
+"There may be community," said Imlac, "of material possessions, but
+there can never be community of love or of esteem. It must happen
+that one will please more than another; he that knows himself
+despised will always be envious, and still more envious and
+malevolent if he is condemned to live in the presence of those who
+despise him. The invitations by which they allure others to a
+state which they feel to be wretched, proceed from the natural
+malignity of hopeless misery. They are weary of themselves and of
+each other, and expect to find relief in new companions. They envy
+the liberty which their folly has forfeited, and would gladly see
+all mankind imprisoned like themselves.
+
+"From this crime, however, I am wholly free. No man can say that
+he is wretched by my persuasion. I look with pity on the crowds
+who are annually soliciting admission to captivity, and wish that
+it were lawful for me to warn them of their danger."
+
+"My dear Imlac," said the Prince, "I will open to thee my whole
+heart. I have long meditated an escape from the Happy Valley. I
+have examined the mountain on every side, but find myself
+insuperably barred--teach me the way to break my prison; thou shalt
+be the companion of my flight, the guide of my rambles, the partner
+of my fortune, and my sole director in the CHOICE OF LIFE.
+
+"Sir," answered the poet, "your escape will be difficult, and
+perhaps you may soon repent your curiosity. The world, which you
+figure to yourself smooth and quiet as the lake in the valley, you
+will find a sea foaming with tempests and boiling with whirlpools;
+you will be sometimes overwhelmed by the waves of violence, and
+sometimes dashed against the rocks of treachery. Amidst wrongs and
+frauds, competitions and anxieties, you will wish a thousand times
+for these seats of quiet, and willingly quit hope to be free from
+fear."
+
+"Do not seek to deter me from my purpose," said the Prince. "I am
+impatient to see what thou hast seen; and since thou art thyself
+weary of the valley, it is evident that thy former state was better
+than this. Whatever be the consequence of my experiment, I am
+resolved to judge with mine own eyes of the various conditions of
+men, and then to make deliberately my CHOICE OF LIFE."
+
+"I am afraid," said Imlac, "you are hindered by stronger restraints
+than my persuasions; yet, if your determination is fixed, I do not
+counsel you to despair. Few things are impossible to diligence and
+skill."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII--RASSELAS DISCOVERS THE MEANS OF ESCAPE.
+
+
+
+The Prince now dismissed his favourite to rest; but the narrative
+of wonders and novelties filled his mind with perturbation. He
+revolved all that he had heard, and prepared innumerable questions
+for the morning.
+
+Much of his uneasiness was now removed. He had a friend to whom he
+could impart his thoughts, and whose experience could assist him in
+his designs. His heart was no longer condemned to swell with
+silent vexation. He thought that even the Happy Valley might be
+endured with such a companion, and that if they could range the
+world together he should have nothing further to desire.
+
+In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground dried. The
+Prince and Imlac then walked out together, to converse without the
+notice of the rest. The Prince, whose thoughts were always on the
+wing, as he passed by the gate said, with a countenance of sorrow,
+"Why art thou so strong, and why is man so weak?"
+
+"Man is not weak," answered his companion; "knowledge is more than
+equivalent to force. The master of mechanics laughs at strength.
+I can burst the gate, but cannot do it secretly. Some other
+expedient must be tried."
+
+ As they were walking on the side of the mountain they observed
+that the coneys, which the rain had driven from their burrows, had
+taken shelter among the bushes, and formed holes behind them
+tending upwards in an oblique line. "It has been the opinion of
+antiquity," said Imlac, "that human reason borrowed many arts from
+the instinct of animals; let us, therefore, not think ourselves
+degraded by learning from the coney. We may escape by piercing the
+mountain in the same direction. We will begin where the summit
+hangs over the middle part, and labour upward till we shall issue
+out beyond the prominence."
+
+The eyes of the Prince, when he heard this proposal, sparkled with
+joy. The execution was easy and the success certain.
+
+No time was now lost. They hastened early in the morning to choose
+a place proper for their mine. They clambered with great fatigue
+among crags and brambles, and returned without having discovered
+any part that favoured their design. The second and the third day
+were spent in the same manner, and with the same frustration; but
+on the fourth day they found a small cavern concealed by a thicket,
+where they resolved to make their experiment.
+
+Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and remove earth,
+and they fell to their work on the next day with more eagerness
+than vigour. They were presently exhausted by their efforts, and
+sat down to pant upon the grass. The Prince for a moment appeared
+to be discouraged. "Sir," said his companion, "practice will
+enable us to continue our labour for a longer time. Mark, however,
+how far we have advanced, and ye will find that our toil will some
+time have an end. Great works are performed not by strength, but
+perseverance; yonder palace was raised by single stones, yet you
+see its height and spaciousness. He that shall walk with vigour
+three hours a day, will pass in seven years a space equal to the
+circumference of the globe."
+
+They returned to their work day after day, and in a short time
+found a fissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with
+very little obstruction. This Rasselas considered as a good omen.
+"Do not disturb your mind," said Imlac, "with other hopes or fears
+than reason may suggest; if you are pleased with the prognostics of
+good, you will be terrified likewise with tokens of evil, and your
+whole life will be a prey to superstition. Whatever facilitates
+our work is more than an omen; it is a cause of success. This is
+one of those pleasing surprises which often happen to active
+resolution. Many things difficult to design prove easy to
+performance."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV--RASSELAS AND IMLAC RECEIVE AN UNEXPECTED VISIT.
+
+
+
+They had now wrought their way to the middle, and solaced their
+toil with the approach of liberty, when the Prince, coming down to
+refresh himself with air, found his sister Nekayah standing at the
+mouth of the cavity. He started, and stood confused, afraid to
+tell his design, and yet hopeless to conceal it. A few moments
+determined him to repose on her fidelity, and secure her secrecy by
+a declaration without reserve.
+
+"Do not imagine," said the Princess, "that I came hither as a spy.
+I had long observed from my window that you and Imlac directed your
+walk every day towards the same point, but I did not suppose you
+had any better reason for the preference than a cooler shade or
+more fragrant bank, nor followed you with any other design than to
+partake of your conversation. Since, then, not suspicion, but
+fondness, has detected you, let me not lose the advantage of my
+discovery. I am equally weary of confinement with yourself, and
+not less desirous of knowing what is done or suffered in the world.
+Permit me to fly with you from this tasteless tranquillity, which
+will yet grow more loathsome when you have left me. You may deny
+me to accompany you, but cannot hinder me from following."
+
+The Prince, who loved Nekayah above his other sisters, had no
+inclination to refuse her request, and grieved that he had lost an
+opportunity of showing his confidence by a voluntary communication.
+It was, therefore, agreed that she should leave the valley with
+them; and that in the meantime she should watch, lest any other
+straggler should, by chance or curiosity, follow them to the
+mountain.
+
+At length their labour was at an end. They saw light beyond the
+prominence, and, issuing to the top of the mountain, beheld the
+Nile, yet a narrow current, wandering beneath them.
+
+The Prince looked round with rapture, anticipated all the pleasures
+of travel, and in thought was already transported beyond his
+father's dominions. Imlac, though very joyful at his escape, had
+less expectation of pleasure in the world, which he had before
+tried and of which he had been weary.
+
+Rasselas was so much delighted with a wider horizon, that he could
+not soon be persuaded to return into the valley. He informed his
+sister that the way was now open, and that nothing now remained but
+to prepare for their departure.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV--THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS LEAVE THE VALLEY, AND SEE MANY
+WONDERS.
+
+
+
+The Prince and Princess had jewels sufficient to make them rich
+whenever they came into a place of commerce, which, by Imlac's
+direction, they hid in their clothes, and on the night of the next
+full moon all left the valley. The Princess was followed only by a
+single favourite, who did not know whither she was going.
+
+They clambered through the cavity, and began to go down on the
+other side. The Princess and her maid turned their eyes toward
+every part, and seeing nothing to bound their prospect, considered
+themselves in danger of being lost in a dreary vacuity. They
+stopped and trembled. "I am almost afraid," said the Princess, "to
+begin a journey of which I cannot perceive an end, and to venture
+into this immense plain where I may be approached on every side by
+men whom I never saw." The Prince felt nearly the same emotions,
+though he thought it more manly to conceal them.
+
+Imlac smiled at their terrors, and encouraged them to proceed. But
+the Princess continued irresolute till she had been imperceptibly
+drawn forward too far to return.
+
+In the morning they found some shepherds in the field, who set some
+milk and fruits before them. The Princess wondered that she did
+not see a palace ready for her reception and a table spread with
+delicacies; but being faint and hungry, she drank the milk and ate
+the fruits, and thought them of a higher flavour than the products
+of the valley.
+
+They travelled forward by easy journeys, being all unaccustomed to
+toil and difficulty, and knowing that, though they might be missed,
+they could not be pursued. In a few days they came into a more
+populous region, where Imlac was diverted with the admiration which
+his companions expressed at the diversity of manners, stations, and
+employments. Their dress was such as might not bring upon them the
+suspicion of having anything to conceal; yet the Prince, wherever
+he came, expected to be obeyed, and the Princess was frighted
+because those who came into her presence did not prostrate
+themselves. Imlac was forced to observe them with great vigilance,
+lest they should betray their rank by their unusual behaviour, and
+detained them several weeks in the first village to accustom them
+to the sight of common mortals.
+
+By degrees the royal wanderers were taught to understand that they
+had for a time laid aside their dignity, and were to expect only
+such regard as liberality and courtesy could procure. And Imlac
+having by many admonitions prepared them to endure the tumults of a
+port and the ruggedness of the commercial race, brought them down
+to the sea-coast.
+
+The Prince and his sister, to whom everything was new, were
+gratified equally at all places, and therefore remained for some
+months at the port without any inclination to pass further. Imlac
+was content with their stay, because he did not think it safe to
+expose them, unpractised in the world, to the hazards of a foreign
+country.
+
+At last he began to fear lest they should be discovered, and
+proposed to fix a day for their departure. They had no pretensions
+to judge for themselves, and referred the whole scheme to his
+direction. He therefore took passage in a ship to Suez, and, when
+the time came, with great difficulty prevailed on the Princess to
+enter the vessel.
+
+They had a quick and prosperous voyage, and from Suez travelled by
+land to Cairo.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI--THEY ENTER CAIRO, AND FIND EVERY MAN HAPPY.
+
+
+
+As they approached the city, which filled the strangers with
+astonishment, "This," said Imlac to the Prince, "is the place where
+travellers and merchants assemble from all corners of the earth.
+You will here find men of every character and every occupation.
+Commerce is here honourable. I will act as a merchant, and you
+shall live as strangers who have no other end of travel than
+curiosity; it will soon be observed that we are rich. Our
+reputation will procure us access to all whom we shall desire to
+know; you shall see all the conditions of humanity, and enable
+yourselves at leisure to make your CHOICE OF LIFE."
+
+They now entered the town, stunned by the noise and offended by the
+crowds. Instruction had not yet so prevailed over habit but that
+they wondered to see themselves pass undistinguished along the
+streets, and met by the lowest of the people without reverence or
+notice. The Princess could not at first bear the thought of being
+levelled with the vulgar, and for some time continued in her
+chamber, where she was served by her favourite Pekuah, as in the
+palace of the valley.
+
+Imlac, who understood traffic, sold part of the jewels the next
+day, and hired a house, which he adorned with such magnificence
+that he was immediately considered as a merchant of great wealth.
+His politeness attracted many acquaintances, and his generosity
+made him courted by many dependants. His companions, not being
+able to mix in the conversation, could make no discovery of their
+ignorance or surprise, and were gradually initiated in the world as
+they gained knowledge of the language.
+
+The Prince had by frequent lectures been taught the use and nature
+of money; but the ladies could not for a long time comprehend what
+the merchants did with small pieces of gold and silver, or why
+things of so little use should be received as an equivalent to the
+necessaries of life.
+
+They studied the language two years, while Imlac was preparing to
+set before them the various ranks and conditions of mankind. He
+grew acquainted with all who had anything uncommon in their fortune
+or conduct. He frequented the voluptuous and the frugal, the idle
+and the busy, the merchants and the men of learning.
+
+The Prince now being able to converse with fluency, and having
+learned the caution necessary to be observed in his intercourse
+with strangers, began to accompany Imlac to places of resort, and
+to enter into all assemblies, that he might make his CHOICE OF
+LIFE.
+
+For some time he thought choice needless, because all appeared to
+him really happy. Wherever he went he met gaiety and kindness, and
+heard the song of joy or the laugh of carelessness. He began to
+believe that the world overflowed with universal plenty, and that
+nothing was withheld either from want or merit; that every hand
+showered liberality and every heart melted with benevolence: "And
+who then," says he, "will be suffered to be wretched?"
+
+Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to crush
+the hope of inexperience: till one day, having sat awhile silent,
+"I know not," said the Prince, "what can be the reason that I am
+more unhappy than any of our friends. I see them perpetually and
+unalterably cheerful, but feel my own mind restless and uneasy. I
+am unsatisfied with those pleasures which I seem most to court. I
+live in the crowds of jollity, not so much to enjoy company as to
+shun myself, and am only loud and merry to conceal my sadness."
+
+"Every man," said Imlac, "may by examining his own mind guess what
+passes in the minds of others. When you feel that your own gaiety
+is counterfeit, it may justly lead you to suspect that of your
+companions not to be sincere. Envy is commonly reciprocal. We are
+long before we are convinced that happiness is never to be found,
+and each believes it possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of
+obtaining it for himself. In the assembly where you passed the
+last night there appeared such sprightliness of air and volatility
+of fancy as might have suited beings of a higher order, formed to
+inhabit serener regions, inaccessible to care or sorrow; yet,
+believe me, Prince, was there not one who did not dread the moment
+when solitude should deliver him to the tyranny of reflection."
+
+"This," said the Prince, "may be true of others since it is true of
+me; yet, whatever be the general infelicity of man, one condition
+is more happy than another, and wisdom surely directs us to take
+the least evil in the CHOICE OF LIFE."
+
+"The causes of good and evil," answered Imlac, "are so various and
+uncertain, so often entangled with each other, so diversified by
+various relations, and so much subject to accidents which cannot be
+foreseen, that he who would fix his condition upon incontestable
+reasons of preference must live and die inquiring and
+deliberating."
+
+"But, surely," said Rasselas, "the wise men, to whom we listen with
+reverence and wonder, chose that mode of life for themselves which
+they thought most likely to make them happy."
+
+"Very few," said the poet, "live by choice. Every man is placed in
+the present condition by causes which acted without his foresight,
+and with which he did not always willingly co-operate, and
+therefore you will rarely meet one who does not think the lot of
+his neighbour better than his own."
+
+"I am pleased to think," said the Prince, "that my birth has given
+me at least one advantage over others by enabling me to determine
+for myself. I have here the world before me. I will review it at
+leisure: surely happiness is somewhere to be found."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII--THE PRINCE ASSOCIATES WITH YOUNG MEN OF SPIRIT AND
+GAIETY.
+
+
+
+Rasselas rose next day, and resolved to begin his experiments upon
+life. "Youth," cried he, "is the time of gladness: I will join
+myself to the young men whose only business is to gratify their
+desires, and whose time is all spent in a succession of
+enjoyments."
+
+To such societies he was readily admitted, but a few days brought
+him back weary and disgusted. Their mirth was without images,
+their laughter without motive; their pleasures were gross and
+sensual, in which the mind had no part; their conduct was at once
+wild and mean--they laughed at order and at law, but the frown of
+power dejected and the eye of wisdom abashed them.
+
+The Prince soon concluded that he should never be happy in a course
+of life of which he was ashamed. He thought it unsuitable to a
+reasonable being to act without a plan, and to be sad or cheerful
+only by chance. "Happiness," said he, "must be something solid and
+permanent, without fear and without uncertainty."
+
+But his young companions had gained so much of his regard by their
+frankness and courtesy that he could not leave them without warning
+and remonstrance. "My friends," said he, "I have seriously
+considered our manners and our prospects, and find that we have
+mistaken our own interest. The first years of man must make
+provision for the last. He that never thinks, never can be wise.
+Perpetual levity must end in ignorance; and intemperance, though it
+may fire the spirits for an hour, will make life short or
+miserable. Let us consider that youth is of no long duration, and
+that in mature age, when the enchantments of fancy shall cease, and
+phantoms of delight dance no more about us, we shall have no
+comforts but the esteem of wise men and the means of doing good.
+Let us therefore stop while to stop is in our power: let us live
+as men who are some time to grow old, and to whom it will be the
+most dreadful of all evils to count their past years by follies,
+and to be reminded of their former luxuriance of health only by the
+maladies which riot has produced."
+
+They stared awhile in silence one upon another, and at last drove
+him away by a general chorus of continued laughter.
+
+The consciousness that his sentiments were just and his intention
+kind was scarcely sufficient to support him against the horror of
+derision. But he recovered his tranquillity and pursued his
+search.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII--THE PRINCE FINDS A WISE AND HAPPY MAN.
+
+
+
+As he was one day walking in the street he saw a spacious building
+which all were by the open doors invited to enter. He followed the
+stream of people, and found it a hall or school of declamation, in
+which professors read lectures to their auditory. He fixed his eye
+upon a sage raised above the rest, who discoursed with great energy
+on the government of the passions. His look was venerable, his
+action graceful, his pronunciation clear, and his diction elegant.
+He showed with great strength of sentiment and variety of
+illustration that human nature is degraded and debased when the
+lower faculties predominate over the higher; that when fancy, the
+parent of passion, usurps the dominion of the mind, nothing ensues
+but the natural effect of unlawful government, perturbation, and
+confusion; that she betrays the fortresses of the intellect to
+rebels, and excites her children to sedition against their lawful
+sovereign. He compared reason to the sun, of which the light is
+constant, uniform, and lasting; and fancy to a meteor, of bright
+but transitory lustre, irregular in its motion and delusive in its
+direction.
+
+He then communicated the various precepts given from time to time
+for the conquest of passion, and displayed the happiness of those
+who had obtained the important victory, after which man is no
+longer the slave of fear nor the fool of hope; is no more emaciated
+by envy, inflamed by anger, emasculated by tenderness, or depressed
+by grief; but walks on calmly through the tumults or privacies of
+life, as the sun pursues alike his course through the calm or the
+stormy sky.
+
+He enumerated many examples of heroes immovable by pain or
+pleasure, who looked with indifference on those modes or accidents
+to which the vulgar give the names of good and evil. He exhorted
+his hearers to lay aside their prejudices, and arm themselves
+against the shafts of malice or misfortune, by invulnerable
+patience: concluding that this state only was happiness, and that
+this happiness was in every one's power.
+
+Rasselas listened to him with the veneration due to the
+instructions of a superior being, and waiting for him at the door,
+humbly implored the liberty of visiting so great a master of true
+wisdom. The lecturer hesitated a moment, when Rasselas put a purse
+of gold into his hand, which he received with a mixture of joy and
+wonder.
+
+"I have found," said the Prince at his return to Imlac, "a man who
+can teach all that is necessary to be known; who, from the unshaken
+throne of rational fortitude, looks down on the scenes of life
+changing beneath him. He speaks, and attention watches his lips.
+He reasons, and conviction closes his periods. This man shall be
+my future guide: I will learn his doctrines and imitate his life."
+
+"Be not too hasty," said Imlac, "to trust or to admire the teachers
+of morality: they discourse like angels, but they live like men."
+
+Rasselas, who could not conceive how any man could reason so
+forcibly without feeling the cogency of his own arguments, paid his
+visit in a few days, and was denied admission. He had now learned
+the power of money, and made his way by a piece of gold to the
+inner apartment, where he found the philosopher in a room half
+darkened, with his eyes misty and his face pale. "Sir," said he,
+"you are come at a time when all human friendship is useless; what
+I suffer cannot be remedied: what I have lost cannot be supplied.
+My daughter, my only daughter, from whose tenderness I expected all
+the comforts of my age, died last night of a fever. My views, my
+purposes, my hopes, are at an end: I am now a lonely being,
+disunited from society."
+
+"Sir," said the Prince, "mortality is an event by which a wise man
+can never be surprised: we know that death is always near, and it
+should therefore always be expected." "Young man," answered the
+philosopher, "you speak like one that has never felt the pangs of
+separation." "Have you then forgot the precepts," said Rasselas,
+"which you so powerfully enforced? Has wisdom no strength to arm
+the heart against calamity? Consider that external things are
+naturally variable, but truth and reason are always the same."
+"What comfort," said the mourner, "can truth and reason afford me?
+Of what effect are they now, but to tell me that my daughter will
+not be restored?"
+
+The Prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult misery
+with reproof, went away, convinced of the emptiness of rhetorical
+sounds, and the inefficacy of polished periods and studied
+sentences.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX--A GLIMPSE OF PASTORAL LIFE.
+
+
+
+He was still eager upon the same inquiry; and having heard of a
+hermit that lived near the lowest cataract of the Nile, and filled
+the whole country with the fame of his sanctity, resolved to visit
+his retreat, and inquire whether that felicity which public life
+could not afford was to be found in solitude, and whether a man
+whose age and virtue made him venerable could teach any peculiar
+art of shunning evils or enduring them.
+
+Imlac and the Princess agreed to accompany him, and after the
+necessary preparations, they began their journey. Their way lay
+through the fields, where shepherds tended their flocks and the
+lambs were playing upon the pasture. "This," said the poet, "is
+the life which has been often celebrated for its innocence and
+quiet; let us pass the heat of the day among the shepherds' tents,
+and know whether all our searches are not to terminate in pastoral
+simplicity."
+
+The proposal pleased them; and they induced the shepherds, by small
+presents and familiar questions, to tell the opinion of their own
+state. They were so rude and ignorant, so little able to compare
+the good with the evil of the occupation, and so indistinct in
+their narratives and descriptions, that very little could be
+learned from them. But it was evident that their hearts were
+cankered with discontent; that they considered themselves as
+condemned to labour for the luxury of the rich, and looked up with
+stupid malevolence towards those that were placed above them.
+
+The Princess pronounced with vehemence that she would never suffer
+these envious savages to be her companions, and that she should not
+soon be desirous of seeing any more specimens of rustic happiness;
+but could not believe that all the accounts of primeval pleasures
+were fabulous, and was in doubt whether life had anything that
+could be justly preferred to the placid gratification of fields and
+woods. She hoped that the time would come when, with a few
+virtuous and elegant companions, she should gather flowers planted
+by her own hands, fondle the lambs of her own ewe, and listen
+without care, among brooks and breezes, to one of her maidens
+reading in the shade.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX--THE DANGER OF PROSPERITY.
+
+
+
+On the next day they continued their journey till the heat
+compelled them to look round for shelter. At a small distance they
+saw a thick wood, which they no sooner entered than they perceived
+that they were approaching the habitations of men. The shrubs were
+diligently cut away to open walks where the shades ware darkest;
+the boughs of opposite trees were artificially interwoven; seats of
+flowery turf were raised in vacant spaces; and a rivulet that
+wantoned along the side of a winding path had its banks sometimes
+opened into small basins, and its stream sometimes obstructed by
+little mounds of stone heaped together to increase its murmurs.
+
+They passed slowly through the wood, delighted with such unexpected
+accommodations, and entertained each other with conjecturing what
+or who he could be that in those rude and unfrequented regions had
+leisure and art for such harmless luxury.
+
+As they advanced they heard the sound of music, and saw youths and
+virgins dancing in the grove; and going still farther beheld a
+stately palace built upon a hill surrounded by woods. The laws of
+Eastern hospitality allowed them to enter, and the master welcomed
+them like a man liberal and wealthy.
+
+He was skilful enough in appearances soon to discern that they were
+no common guests, and spread his table with magnificence. The
+eloquence of Imlac caught his attention, and the lofty courtesy of
+the Princess excited his respect. When they offered to depart, he
+entreated their stay, and was the next day more unwilling to
+dismiss them than before. They were easily persuaded to stop, and
+civility grew up in time to freedom and confidence.
+
+The Prince now saw all the domestics cheerful and all the face of
+nature smiling round the place, and could not forbear to hope that
+he should find here what he was seeking; but when he was
+congratulating the master upon his possessions he answered with a
+sigh, "My condition has indeed the appearance of happiness, but
+appearances are delusive. My prosperity puts my life in danger;
+the Bassa of Egypt is my enemy, incensed only by my wealth and
+popularity. I have been hitherto protected against him by the
+princes of the country; but as the favour of the great is uncertain
+I know not how soon my defenders may be persuaded to share the
+plunder with the Bassa. I have sent my treasures into a distant
+country, and upon the first alarm am prepared to follow them. Then
+will my enemies riot in my mansion, and enjoy the gardens which I
+have planted."
+
+They all joined in lamenting his danger and deprecating his exile;
+and the Princess was so much disturbed with the tumult of grief and
+indignation that she retired to her apartment. They continued with
+their kind inviter a few days longer, and then went to find the
+hermit.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI--THE HAPPINESS OF SOLITUDE--THE HERMIT'S HISTORY.
+
+
+
+They came on the third day, by the direction of the peasants, to
+the hermit's cell. It was a cavern in the side of a mountain,
+overshadowed with palm trees, at such a distance from the cataract
+that nothing more was heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as
+composes the mind to pensive meditation, especially when it was
+assisted by the wind whistling among the branches. The first rude
+essay of Nature had been so much improved by human labour that the
+cave contained several apartments appropriated to different uses,
+and often afforded lodging to travellers whom darkness or tempests
+happened to overtake.
+
+The hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness of the
+evening. On one side lay a book with pens and paper; on the other
+mechanical instruments of various kinds. As they approached him
+unregarded, the Princess observed that he had not the countenance
+of a man that had found or could teach the way to happiness.
+
+They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid like a man not
+unaccustomed to the forms of Courts. "My children," said he, "if
+you have lost your way, you shall be willingly supplied with such
+conveniences for the night as this cavern will afford. I have all
+that Nature requires, and you will not expect delicacies in a
+hermit's cell."
+
+They thanked him; and, entering, were pleased with the neatness and
+regularity of the place. The hermit set flesh and wine before
+them, though he fed only upon fruits and water. His discourse was
+cheerful without levity, and pious without enthusiasm. He soon
+gained the esteem of his guests, and the Princess repented her
+hasty censure.
+
+At last Imlac began thus: "I do not now wonder that your
+reputation is so far extended: we have heard at Cairo of your
+wisdom, and came hither to implore your direction for this young
+man and maiden in the CHOICE OF LIFE."
+
+"To him that lives well," answered the hermit, "every form of life
+is good; nor can I give any other rule for choice than to remove
+all apparent evil."
+
+"He will most certainly remove from evil," said the Prince, "who
+shall devote himself to that solitude which you have recommended by
+your example."
+
+"I have indeed lived fifteen years in solitude," said the hermit,
+"but have no desire that my example should gain any imitators. In
+my youth I professed arms, and was raised by degrees to the highest
+military rank. I have traversed wide countries at the head of my
+troops, and seen many battles and sieges. At last, being disgusted
+by the preferments of a younger officer, and feeling that my vigour
+was beginning to decay, I resolved to close my life in peace,
+having found the world full of snares, discord, and misery. I had
+once escaped from the pursuit of the enemy by the shelter of this
+cavern, and therefore chose it for my final residence. I employed
+artificers to form it into chambers, and stored it with all that I
+was likely to want.
+
+"For some time after my retreat I rejoiced like a tempest-beaten
+sailor at his entrance into the harbour, being delighted with the
+sudden change of the noise and hurry of war to stillness and
+repose. When the pleasure of novelty went away, I employed my
+hours in examining the plants which grow in the valley, and the
+minerals which I collected from the rocks. But that inquiry is now
+grown tasteless and irksome. I have been for some time unsettled
+and distracted: my mind is disturbed with a thousand perplexities
+of doubt and vanities of imagination, which hourly prevail upon me,
+because I have no opportunities of relaxation or diversion. I am
+sometimes ashamed to think that I could not secure myself from vice
+but by retiring from the exercise of virtue, and begin to suspect
+that I was rather impelled by resentment than led by devotion into
+solitude. My fancy riots in scenes of folly, and I lament that I
+have lost so much, and have gained so little. In solitude, if I
+escape the example of bad men, I want likewise the counsel and
+conversation of the good. I have been long comparing the evils
+with the advantages of society, and resolve to return into the
+world to-morrow. The life of a solitary man will be certainly
+miserable, but not certainly devout."
+
+They heard his resolution with surprise, but after a short pause
+offered to conduct him to Cairo. He dug up a considerable treasure
+which he had hid among the rocks, and accompanied them to the city,
+on which, as he approached it, he gazed with rapture.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII--THE HAPPINESS OF A LIFE LED ACCORDING TO NATURE.
+
+
+
+Rasselas went often to an assembly of learned men, who met at
+stated times to unbend their minds and compare their opinions.
+Their manners were somewhat coarse, but their conversation was
+instructive, and their disputations acute, though sometimes too
+violent, and often continued till neither controvertist remembered
+upon what question he began. Some faults were almost general among
+them: every one was pleased to hear the genius or knowledge of
+another depreciated.
+
+In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the
+hermit, and the wonder with which he heard him censure a course of
+life which he had so deliberately chosen and so laudably followed.
+The sentiments of the hearers were various. Some were of opinion
+that the folly of his choice had been justly punished by
+condemnation to perpetual perseverance. One of the youngest among
+them, with great vehemence, pronounced him a hypocrite. Some
+talked of the right of society to the labour of individuals, and
+considered retirement as a desertion of duty. Others readily
+allowed that there was a time when the claims of the public were
+satisfied, and when a man might properly sequester himself, to
+review his life and purify his heart.
+
+One who appeared more affected with the narrative than the rest
+thought it likely that the hermit would in a few years go back to
+his retreat, and perhaps, if shame did not restrain or death
+intercept him, return once more from his retreat into the world.
+"For the hope of happiness," said he, "is so strongly impressed
+that the longest experience is not able to efface it. Of the
+present state, whatever it be, we feel and are forced to confess
+the misery; yet when the same state is again at a distance,
+imagination paints it as desirable. But the time will surely come
+when desire will no longer be our torment and no man shall be
+wretched but by his own fault.
+
+"This," said a philosopher who had heard him with tokens of great
+impatience, "is the present condition of a wise man. The time is
+already come when none are wretched but by their own fault.
+Nothing is more idle than to inquire after happiness which Nature
+has kindly placed within our reach. The way to be happy is to live
+according to Nature, in obedience to that universal and unalterable
+law with which every heart is originally impressed; which is not
+written on it by precept, but engraven by destiny; not instilled by
+education, but infused at our nativity. He that lives according to
+Nature will suffer nothing from the delusions of hope or
+importunities of desire; he will receive and reject with equability
+of temper; and act or suffer as the reason of things shall
+alternately prescribe. Other men may amuse themselves with subtle
+definitions or intricate ratiocination. Let them learn to be wise
+by easier means: let them observe the hind of the forest and the
+linnet of the grove: let them consider the life of animals, whose
+motions are regulated by instinct; they obey their guide, and are
+happy. Let us therefore at length cease to dispute, and learn to
+live: throw away the encumbrance of precepts, which they who utter
+them with so much pride and pomp do not understand, and carry with
+us this simple and intelligible maxim: that deviation from Nature
+is deviation from happiness.
+
+When he had spoken he looked round him with a placid air, and
+enjoyed the consciousness of his own beneficence.
+
+"Sir," said the Prince with great modesty, "as I, like all the rest
+of mankind, am desirous of felicity, my closest attention has been
+fixed upon your discourse: I doubt not the truth of a position
+which a man so learned has so confidently advanced. Let me only
+know what it is to live according to Nature."
+
+"When I find young men so humble and so docile," said the
+philosopher, "I can deny them no information which my studies have
+enabled me to afford. To live according to Nature is to act always
+with due regard to the fitness arising from the relations and
+qualities of causes and effects; to concur with the great and
+unchangeable scheme of universal felicity; to co-operate with the
+general disposition and tendency of the present system of things."
+
+The Prince soon found that this was one of the sages whom he should
+understand less as he heard him longer. He therefore bowed and was
+silent; and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied and the rest
+vanquished, rose up and departed with the air of a man that had co-
+operated with the present system.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII--THE PRINCE AND HIS SISTER DIVIDE BETWEEN THEM THE
+WORK OF OBSERVATION.
+
+
+
+Rasselas returned home full of reflections, doubting how to direct
+his future steps. Of the way to happiness he found the learned and
+simple equally ignorant; but as he was yet young, he flattered
+himself that he had time remaining for more experiments and further
+inquiries. He communicated to Imlac his observations and his
+doubts, but was answered by him with new doubts and remarks that
+gave him no comfort. He therefore discoursed more frequently and
+freely with his sister, who had yet the same hope with himself, and
+always assisted him to give some reason why, though he had been
+hitherto frustrated, he might succeed at last.
+
+"We have hitherto," said she, "known but little of the world; we
+have never yet been either great or mean. In our own country,
+though we had royalty, we had no power; and in this we have not yet
+seen the private recesses of domestic peace. Imlac favours not our
+search, lest we should in time find him mistaken. We will divide
+the task between us; you shall try what is to be found in the
+splendour of Courts, and I will range the shades of humbler life.
+Perhaps command and authority may be the supreme blessings, as they
+afford the most opportunities of doing good; or perhaps what this
+world can give may be found in the modest habitations of middle
+fortune--too low for great designs, and too high for penury and
+distress."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV--THE PRINCE EXAMINES THE HAPPINESS OF HIGH STATIONS.
+
+
+
+Rasselas applauded the design, and appeared next day with a
+splendid retinue at the Court of the Bassa. He was soon
+distinguished for his magnificence, and admitted, as a Prince whose
+curiosity had brought him from distant countries, to an intimacy
+with the great officers and frequent conversation with the Bassa
+himself.
+
+He was at first inclined to believe that the man must be pleased
+with his own condition whom all approached with reverence and heard
+with obedience, and who had the power to extend his edicts to a
+whole kingdom. "There can be no pleasure," said he, "equal to that
+of feeling at once the joy of thousands all made happy by wise
+administration. Yet, since by the law of subordination this
+sublime delight can be in one nation but the lot of one, it is
+surely reasonable to think that there is some satisfaction more
+popular and accessible, and that millions can hardly be subjected
+to the will of a single man, only to fill his particular breast
+with incommunicable content."
+
+These thoughts were often in his mind, and he found no solution of
+the difficulty. But as presents and civilities gained him more
+familiarity, he found that almost every man who stood high in his
+employment hated all the rest and was hated by them, and that their
+lives were a continual succession of plots and detections,
+stratagems and escapes, faction and treachery. Many of those who
+surrounded the Bassa were sent only to watch and report his
+conduct: every tongue was muttering censure, and every eye was
+searching for a fault.
+
+At last the letters of revocation arrived: the Bassa was carried
+in chains to Constantinople, and his name was mentioned no more.
+
+"What are we now to think of the prerogatives of power?" said
+Rasselas to his sister: "is it without efficacy to good, or is the
+subordinate degree only dangerous, and the supreme safe and
+glorious? Is the Sultan the only happy man in his dominions, or is
+the Sultan himself subject to the torments of suspicion and the
+dread of enemies?"
+
+In a short time the second Bassa was deposed. The Sultan that had
+advanced him was murdered by the Janissaries, and his successor had
+other views or different favourites.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV--THE PRINCESS PURSUES HER INQUIRY WITH MORE DILIGENCE
+THAN SUCCESS.
+
+
+
+The Princess in the meantime insinuated herself into many families;
+for there are few doors through which liberality, joined with good
+humour, cannot find its way. The daughters of many houses were
+airy and cheerful; but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to the
+conversation of Imlac and her brother to be much pleased with
+childish levity and prattle which had no meaning. She found their
+thoughts narrow, their wishes low, and their merriment often
+artificial. Their pleasures, poor as they were, could not be
+preserved pure, but were embittered by petty competitions and
+worthless emulation. They were always jealous of the beauty of
+each other, of a quality to which solicitude can add nothing, and
+from which detraction can take nothing away. Many were in love
+with triflers like themselves, and many fancied that they were in
+love when in truth they were only idle. Their affection was not
+fixed on sense or virtue, and therefore seldom ended but in
+vexation. Their grief, however, like their joy, was transient;
+everything floated in their mind unconnected with the past or
+future, so that one desire easily gave way to another, as a second
+stone, cast into the water, effaces and confounds the circles of
+the first.
+
+With these girls she played as with inoffensive animals, and found
+them proud of her countenance and weary of her company.
+
+But her purpose was to examine more deeply, and her affability
+easily persuaded the hearts that were swelling with sorrow to
+discharge their secrets in her ear, and those whom hope flattered
+or prosperity delighted often courted her to partake their
+pleasure.
+
+The Princess and her brother commonly met in the evening in a
+private summerhouse on the banks of the Nile, and related to each
+other the occurrences of the day. As they were sitting together
+the Princess cast her eyes upon the river that flowed before her.
+"Answer," said she, "great father of waters, thou that rollest thy
+goods through eighty nations, to the invocations of the daughter of
+thy native king. Tell me if thou waterest through all thy course a
+single habitation from which thou dost not hear the murmurs of
+complaint."
+
+"You are then," said Rasselas, "not more successful in private
+houses than I have been in Courts." "I have, since the last
+partition of our provinces," said the Princess, "enabled myself to
+enter familiarly into many families, where there was the fairest
+show of prosperity and peace, and know not one house that is not
+haunted by some fury that destroys their quiet.
+
+"I did not seek ease among the poor, because I concluded that there
+it could not be found. But I saw many poor whom I had supposed to
+live in affluence. Poverty has in large cities very different
+appearances. It is often concealed in splendour and often in
+extravagance. It is the care of a very great part of mankind to
+conceal their indigence from the rest. They support themselves by
+temporary expedients, and every day is lost in contriving for the
+morrow.
+
+"This, however, was an evil which, though frequent, I saw with less
+pain, because I could relieve it. Yet some have refused my
+bounties; more offended with my quickness to detect their wants
+than pleased with my readiness to succour them; and others, whose
+exigencies compelled them to admit my kindness, have never been
+able to forgive their benefactress. Many, however, have been
+sincerely grateful without the ostentation of gratitude or the hope
+of other favours."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI--THE PRINCESS CONTINUES HER REMARKS UPON PRIVATE LIFE.
+
+
+
+Nekayah, perceiving her brother's attention fixed, proceeded in her
+narrative.
+
+"In families where there is or is not poverty there is commonly
+discord. If a kingdom be, as Imlac tells us, a great family, a
+family likewise is a little kingdom, torn with factions and exposed
+to revolutions. An unpractised observer expects the love of
+parents and children to be constant and equal. But this kindness
+seldom continues beyond the years of infancy; in a short time the
+children become rivals to their parents. Benefits are allowed by
+reproaches, and gratitude debased by envy.
+
+"Parents and children seldom act in concert; each child endeavours
+to appropriate the esteem or the fondness of the parents; and the
+parents, with yet less temptation, betray each other to their
+children. Thus, some place their confidence in the father and some
+in the mother, and by degrees the house is filled with artifices
+and feuds.
+
+"The opinions of children and parents, of the young and the old,
+are naturally opposite, by the contrary effects of hope and
+despondency, of expectation and experience, without crime or folly
+on either side. The colours of life in youth and age appear
+different, as the face of Nature in spring and winter. And how can
+children credit the assertions of parents which their own eyes show
+them to be false?
+
+"Few parents act in such a manner as much to enforce their maxims
+by the credit of their lives. The old man trusts wholly to slow
+contrivance and gradual progression; the youth expects to force his
+way by genius, vigour, and precipitance. The old man pays regard
+to riches, and the youth reverences virtue. The old man deifies
+prudence; the youth commits himself to magnanimity and chance. The
+young man, who intends no ill, believes that none is intended, and
+therefore acts with openness and candour; but his father; having
+suffered the injuries of fraud, is impelled to suspect and too
+often allured to practise it. Age looks with anger on the temerity
+of youth, and youth with contempt on the scrupulosity of age. Thus
+parents and children for the greatest part live on to love less and
+less; and if those whom Nature has thus closely united are the
+torments of each other, where shall we look for tenderness and
+consolations?"
+
+"Surely," said the Prince, "you must have been unfortunate in your
+choice of acquaintance. I am unwilling to believe that the most
+tender of all relations is thus impeded in its effects by natural
+necessity."
+
+"Domestic discord," answered she, "is not inevitably and fatally
+necessary, but yet it is not easily avoided. We seldom see that a
+whole family is virtuous; the good and the evil cannot well agree,
+and the evil can yet less agree with one another. Even the
+virtuous fall sometimes to variance, when their virtues are of
+different kinds and tending to extremes. In general, those parents
+have most reverence who most deserve it, for he that lives well
+cannot be despised.
+
+"Many other evils infest private life. Some are the slaves of
+servants whom they have trusted with their affairs. Some are kept
+in continual anxiety by the caprice of rich relations, whom they
+cannot please and dare not offend. Some husbands are imperious and
+some wives perverse, and, as it is always more easy to do evil than
+good, though the wisdom or virtue of one can very rarely make many
+happy, the folly or vice of one makes many miserable."
+
+"If such be the general effect of marriage," said the Prince, "I
+shall for the future think it dangerous to connect my interest with
+that of another, lest I should be unhappy by my partner's fault."
+
+"I have met," said the Princess, "with many who live single for
+that reason, but I never found that their prudence ought to raise
+envy. They dream away their time without friendship, without
+fondness, and are driven to rid themselves of the day, for which
+they have no use, by childish amusements or vicious delights. They
+act as beings under the constant sense of some known inferiority
+that fills their minds with rancour and their tongues with censure.
+They are peevish at home and malevolent abroad, and, as the outlaws
+of human nature, make it their business and their pleasure to
+disturb that society which debars them from its privileges. To
+live without feeling or exciting sympathy, to be fortunate without
+adding to the felicity of others, or afflicted without tasting the
+balm of pity, is a state more gloomy than solitude; it is not
+retreat but exclusion from mankind. Marriage has many pains, but
+celibacy has no pleasures."
+
+"What then is to be done?" said Rasselas. "The more we inquire the
+less we can resolve. Surely he is most likely to please himself
+that has no other inclination to regard."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII--DISQUISITION UPON GREATNESS.
+
+
+
+The conversation had a short pause. The Prince, having considered
+his sister's observation, told her that she had surveyed life with
+prejudice and supposed misery where she did not find it. "Your
+narrative," says he, "throws yet a darker gloom upon the prospects
+of futurity. The predictions of Imlac were but faint sketches of
+the evils painted by Nekayah. I have been lately convinced that
+quiet is not the daughter of grandeur or of power; that her
+presence is not to be bought by wealth nor enforced by conquest.
+It is evident that as any man acts in a wider compass he must be
+more exposed to opposition from enmity or miscarriage from chance.
+Whoever has many to please or to govern must use the ministry of
+many agents, some of whom will be wicked and some ignorant, by some
+he will be misled and by others betrayed. If he gratifies one he
+will offend another; those that are not favoured will think
+themselves injured, and since favours can be conferred but upon few
+the greater number will be always discontented."
+
+"The discontent," said the Princess, "which is thus unreasonable, I
+hope that I shall always have spirit to despise and you power to
+repress."
+
+"Discontent," answered Rasselas, "will not always be without reason
+under the most just and vigilant administration of public affairs.
+None, however attentive, can always discover that merit which
+indigence or faction may happen to obscure, and none, however
+powerful, can always reward it. Yet he that sees inferior desert
+advanced above him will naturally impute that preference to
+partiality or caprice, and indeed it can scarcely be hoped that any
+man, however magnanimous by Nature or exalted by condition, will be
+able to persist for ever in fixed and inexorable justice of
+distribution; he will sometimes indulge his own affections and
+sometimes those of his favourites; he will permit some to please
+him who can never serve him; he will discover in those whom he
+loves qualities which in reality they do not possess, and to those
+from whom he receives pleasure he will in his turn endeavour to
+give it. Thus will recommendations sometimes prevail which were
+purchased by money or by the more destructive bribery of flattery
+and servility.
+
+"He that hath much to do will do something wrong, and of that wrong
+must suffer the consequences, and if it were possible that he
+should always act rightly, yet, when such numbers are to judge of
+his conduct, the bad will censure and obstruct him by malevolence
+and the good sometimes by mistake.
+
+"The highest stations cannot therefore hope to be the abodes of
+happiness, which I would willingly believe to have fled from
+thrones and palaces to seats of humble privacy and placid
+obscurity. For what can hinder the satisfaction or intercept the
+expectations of him whose abilities are adequate to his
+employments, who sees with his own eyes the whole circuit of his
+influence, who chooses by his own knowledge all whom he trusts, and
+whom none are tempted to deceive by hope or fear? Surely he has
+nothing to do but to love and to be loved; to be virtuous and to be
+happy."
+
+"Whether perfect happiness would be procured by perfect goodness,"
+said Nekayah, "this world will never afford an opportunity of
+deciding. But this, at least, may be maintained, that we do not
+always find visible happiness in proportion to visible virtue. All
+natural and almost all political evils are incident alike to the
+bad and good; they are confounded in the misery of a famine, and
+not much distinguished in the fury of a faction; they sink together
+in a tempest and are driven together from their country by
+invaders. All that virtue can afford is quietness of conscience
+and a steady prospect of a happier state; this may enable us to
+endure calamity with patience, but remember that patience must
+oppose pain."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII--RASSELAS AND NEKAYAH CONTINUE THEIR CONVERSATION.
+
+
+
+"Dear Princess," said Rasselas, "you fall into the common errors of
+exaggeratory declamation, by producing in a familiar disquisition
+examples of national calamities and scenes of extensive misery
+which are found in books rather than in the world, and which, as
+they are horrid, are ordained to be rare. Let us not imagine evils
+which we do not feel, nor injure life by misrepresentations. I
+cannot bear that querulous eloquence which threatens every city
+with a siege like that of Jerusalem, that makes famine attend on
+every flight of locust, and suspends pestilence on the wing of
+every blast that issues from the south.
+
+"On necessary and inevitable evils which overwhelm kingdoms at once
+all disputation is vain; when they happen they must be endured.
+But it is evident that these bursts of universal distress are more
+dreaded than felt; thousands and tens of thousands flourish in
+youth and wither in age, without the knowledge of any other than
+domestic evils, and share the same pleasures and vexations, whether
+their kings are mild or cruel, whether the armies of their country
+pursue their enemies or retreat before them. While Courts are
+disturbed with intestine competitions and ambassadors are
+negotiating in foreign countries, the smith still plies his anvil
+and the husbandman drives his plough forward; the necessaries of
+life are required and obtained, and the successive business of the
+season continues to make its wonted revolutions.
+
+"Let us cease to consider what perhaps may never happen, and what,
+when it shall happen, will laugh at human speculation. We will not
+endeavour to modify the motions of the elements or to fix the
+destiny of kingdoms. It is our business to consider what beings
+like us may perform, each labouring for his own happiness by
+promoting within his circle, however narrow, the happiness of
+others.
+
+"Marriage is evidently the dictate of Nature; men and women were
+made to be the companions of each other, and therefore I cannot be
+persuaded but that marriage is one of the means of happiness."
+
+"I know not," said the Princess, "whether marriage be more than one
+of the innumerable modes of human misery. When I see and reckon
+the various forms of connubial infelicity, the unexpected causes of
+lasting discord, the diversities of temper, the oppositions of
+opinion, the rude collisions of contrary desire where both are
+urged by violent impulses, the obstinate contest of disagreeing
+virtues where both are supported by consciousness of good
+intention, I am sometimes disposed to think, with the severer
+casuists of most nations, that marriage is rather permitted than
+approved, and that none, but by the instigation of a passion too
+much indulged, entangle themselves with indissoluble compact."
+
+"You seem to forget," replied Rasselas, "that you have, even now
+represented celibacy as less happy than marriage. Both conditions
+may be bad, but they cannot both be worse. Thus it happens, when
+wrong opinions are entertained, that they mutually destroy each
+other and leave the mind open to truth."
+
+"I did not expect," answered, the Princess, "to hear that imputed
+to falsehood which is the consequence only of frailty. To the
+mind, as to the eye, it is difficult to compare with exactness
+objects vast in their extent and various in their parts. When we
+see or conceive the whole at once, we readily note the
+discriminations and decide the preference, but of two systems, of
+which neither can be surveyed by any human being in its full
+compass of magnitude and multiplicity of complication, where is the
+wonder that, judging of the whole by parts, I am alternately
+affected by one and the other as either presses on my memory or
+fancy? We differ from ourselves just as we differ from each other
+when we see only part of the question, as in the multifarious
+relations of politics and morality, but when we perceive the whole
+at once, as in numerical computations, all agree in one judgment,
+and none ever varies in his opinion."
+
+"Let us not add," said the Prince, "to the other evils of life the
+bitterness of controversy, nor endeavour to vie with each other in
+subtilties of argument. We are employed in a search of which both
+are equally to enjoy the success or suffer by the miscarriage; it
+is therefore fit that we assist each other. You surely conclude
+too hastily from the infelicity of marriage against its
+institution; will not the misery of life prove equally that life
+cannot be the gift of Heaven? The world must be peopled by
+marriage or peopled without it."
+
+"How the world is to be peopled," returned Nekayah, "is not my care
+and need not be yours. I see no danger that the present generation
+should omit to leave successors behind them; we are not now
+inquiring for the world, but for ourselves."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX--THE DEBATE ON MARRIAGE (continued).
+
+
+
+"The good of the whole," says Rasselas, "is the same with the good
+of all its parts. If marriage be best for mankind, it must be
+evidently best for individuals; or a permanent and necessary duty
+must be the cause of evil, and some must be inevitably sacrificed
+to the convenience of others. In the estimate which you have made
+of the two states, it appears that the incommodities of a single
+life are in a great measure necessary and certain, but those of the
+conjugal state accidental and avoidable. I cannot forbear to
+flatter myself that prudence and benevolence will make marriage
+happy. The general folly of mankind is the cause of general
+complaint. What can be expected but disappointment and repentance
+from a choice made in the immaturity of youth, in the ardour of
+desire, without judgment, without foresight, without inquiry after
+conformity of opinions, similarity of manners, rectitude of
+judgment, or purity of sentiment?
+
+"Such is the common process of marriage. A youth and maiden,
+meeting by chance or brought together by artifice, exchange
+glances, reciprocate civilities, go home and dream of one another.
+Having little to divert attention or diversify thought, they find
+themselves uneasy when they are apart, and therefore conclude that
+they shall be happy together. They marry, and discover what
+nothing but voluntary blindness before had concealed; they wear out
+life in altercations, and charge Nature with cruelty.
+
+"From those early marriages proceeds likewise the rivalry of
+parents and children: the son is eager to enjoy the world before
+the father is willing to forsake it, and there is hardly room at
+once for two generations. The daughter begins to bloom before the
+mother can be content to fade, and neither can forbear to wish for
+the absence of the other.
+
+"Surely all these evils may be avoided by that deliberation and
+delay which prudence prescribes to irrevocable choice. In the
+variety and jollity of youthful pleasures, life may be well enough
+supported without the help of a partner. Longer time will increase
+experience, and wider views will allow better opportunities of
+inquiry and selection; one advantage at least will be certain, the
+parents will be visibly older than their children."
+
+"What reason cannot collect," and Nekayah, "and what experiment has
+not yet taught, can be known only from the report of others. I
+have been told that late marriages are not eminently happy. This
+is a question too important to be neglected; and I have often
+proposed it to those whose accuracy of remark and comprehensiveness
+of knowledge made their suffrages worthy of regard. They have
+generally determined that it is dangerous for a man and woman to
+suspend their fate upon each other at a time when opinions are
+fixed and habits are established, when friendships have been
+contracted on both sides, when life has been planned into method,
+and the mind has long enjoyed the contemplation of its own
+prospects.
+
+"It is scarcely possible that two travelling through the world
+under the conduct of chance should have been both directed to the
+same path, and it will not often happen that either will quit the
+track which custom has made pleasing. When the desultory levity of
+youth has settled into regularity, it is soon succeeded by pride
+ashamed to yield, or obstinacy delighting to contend. And even
+though mutual esteem produces mutual desire to please, time itself,
+as it modifies unchangeably the external mien, determines likewise
+the direction of the passions, and gives an inflexible rigidity to
+the manners. Long customs are not easily broken; he that attempts
+to change the course of his own life very often labours in vain,
+and how shall we do that for others which we are seldom able to do
+for ourselves?"
+
+"But surely," interposed the Prince, "you suppose the chief motive
+of choice forgotten or neglected. Whenever I shall seek a wife, it
+shall be my first question whether she be willing to be led by
+reason."
+
+"Thus it is," said Nekayah, "that philosophers are deceived. There
+are a thousand familiar disputes which reason never can decide;
+questions that elude investigation, and make logic ridiculous;
+cases where something must be done, and where little can be said.
+Consider the state of mankind, and inquire how few can be supposed
+to act upon any occasions, whether small or great, with all the
+reasons of action present to their minds. Wretched would be the
+pair, above all names of wretchedness, who should be doomed to
+adjust by reason every morning all the minute details of a domestic
+day.
+
+"Those who marry at an advanced age will probably escape the
+encroachments of their children, but in the diminution of this
+advantage they will be likely to leave them, ignorant and helpless,
+to a guardian's mercy; or if that should not happen, they must at
+least go out of the world before they see those whom they love best
+either wise or great.
+
+"From their children, if they have less to fear, they have less
+also to hope; and they lose without equivalent the joys of early
+love, and the convenience of uniting with manners pliant and minds
+susceptible of new impressions, which might wear away their
+dissimilitudes by long cohabitation, as soft bodies by continual
+attrition conform their surfaces to each other.
+
+"I believe it will be found that those who marry late are best
+pleased with their children, and those who marry early with their
+partners."
+
+"The union of these two affections," said Rasselas, "would produce
+all that could be wished. Perhaps there is a time when marriage
+might unite them--a time neither too early for the father nor too
+late for the husband."
+
+"Every hour," answered the Princess, "confirms my prejudice in
+favour of the position so often uttered by the mouth of Imlac, that
+'Nature sets her gifts on the right hand and on the left.' Those
+conditions which flatter hope and attract desire are so constituted
+that as we approach one we recede from another. There are goods so
+opposed that we cannot seize both, but by too much prudence may
+pass between them at too great a distance to reach either. This is
+often the fate of long consideration; he does nothing who
+endeavours to do more than is allowed to humanity. Flatter not
+yourself with contrarieties of pleasure. Of the blessings set
+before you make your choice, and be content. No man can taste the
+fruits of autumn while he is delighting his scent with the flowers
+of the spring; no man can at the same time fill his cup from the
+source and from the mouth of the Nile."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX--IMLAC ENTERS, AND CHANGES THE CONVERSATION.
+
+
+
+Here Imlac entered, and interrupted them. "Imlac," said Rasselas,
+"I have been taking from the Princess the dismal history of private
+life, and am almost discouraged from further search."
+
+"It seems to me," said Imlac, "that while you are making the choice
+of life you neglect to live. You wander about a single city,
+which, however large and diversified, can now afford few novelties,
+and forget that you are in a country famous among the earliest
+monarchies for the power and wisdom of its inhabitants--a country
+where the sciences first dawned that illuminate the world, and
+beyond which the arts cannot be traced of civil society or domestic
+life.
+
+"The old Egyptians have left behind them monuments of industry and
+power before which all European magnificence is confessed to fade
+away. The ruins of their architecture are the schools of modern
+builders; and from the wonders which time has spared we may
+conjecture, though uncertainly, what it has destroyed."
+
+"My curiosity," said Rasselas, "does not very strongly lead me to
+survey piles of stone or mounds of earth. My business is with man.
+I came hither not to measure fragments of temples or trace choked
+aqueducts, but to look upon the various scenes of the present
+world."
+
+"The things that are now before us," said the Princess, "require
+attention, and deserve it. What have I to do with the heroes or
+the monuments of ancient times--with times which can never return,
+and heroes whose form of life was different from all that the
+present condition of mankind requires or allows?"
+
+"To know anything," returned the poet, "we must know its effects;
+to see men, we must see their works, that we may learn what reason
+has dictated or passion has excited, and find what are the most
+powerful motives of action. To judge rightly of the present, we
+must oppose it to the past; for all judgment is comparative, and of
+the future nothing can be known. The truth is that no mind is much
+employed upon the present; recollection and anticipation fill up
+almost all our moments. Our passions are joy and grief, love and
+hatred, hope and fear. Of joy and grief, the past is the object,
+and the future of hope and fear; even love and hatred respect the
+past, for the cause must have been before the effect.
+
+"The present state of things is the consequence of the former; and
+it is natural to inquire what were the sources of the good that we
+enjoy, or the evils that we suffer. If we act only for ourselves,
+to neglect the study of history is not prudent. If we are
+entrusted with the care of others, it is not just. Ignorance, when
+it is voluntary, is criminal; and he may properly be charged with
+evil who refused to learn how he might prevent it.
+
+"There is no part of history so generally useful as that which
+relates to the progress of the human mind, the gradual improvement
+of reason, the successive advances of science, the vicissitudes of
+learning and ignorance (which are the light and darkness of
+thinking beings), the extinction and resuscitation of arts, and the
+revolutions of the intellectual world. If accounts of battles and
+invasions are peculiarly the business of princes, the useful or
+elegant arts are not to be neglected; those who have kingdoms to
+govern have understandings to cultivate.
+
+"Example is always more efficacious than precept. A soldier is
+formed in war, and a painter must copy pictures. In this,
+contemplative life has the advantage. Great actions are seldom
+seen, but the labours of art are always at hand for those who
+desire to know what art has been able to perform.
+
+"When the eye or the imagination is struck with any uncommon work,
+the next transition of an active mind is to the means by which it
+was performed. Here begins the true use of such contemplation. We
+enlarge our comprehension by new ideas, and perhaps recover some
+art lost to mankind, or learn what is less perfectly known in our
+own country. At least we compare our own with former times, and
+either rejoice at our improvements, or, what is the first motion
+towards good, discover our defects."
+
+"I am willing," said the Prince, "to see all that can deserve my
+search."
+
+"And I," said the Princess, "shall rejoice to learn something of
+the manners of antiquity."
+
+"The most pompous monument of Egyptian greatness, and one of the
+most bulky works of manual industry," said Imlac, "are the
+Pyramids: fabrics raised before the time of history, and of which
+the earliest narratives afford us only uncertain traditions. Of
+these the greatest is still standing, very little injured by time."
+
+"Let us visit them to-morrow," said Nekayah. "I have often heard
+of the Pyramids, and shall not rest till I have seen them, within
+and without, with my own eyes."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI--THEY VISIT THE PYRAMIDS.
+
+
+
+The resolution being thus taken, they set out the next day. They
+laid tents upon their camels, being resolved to stay among the
+Pyramids till their curiosity was fully satisfied. They travelled
+gently, turned aside to everything remarkable, stopped from time to
+time and conversed with the inhabitants, and observed the various
+appearances of towns ruined and inhabited, of wild and cultivated
+nature.
+
+When they came to the Great Pyramid they were astonished at the
+extent of the base and the height of the top. Imlac explained to
+them the principles upon which the pyramidal form was chosen for a
+fabric intended to co-extend its duration with that of the world:
+he showed that its gradual diminution gave it such stability as
+defeated all the common attacks of the elements, and could scarcely
+be overthrown by earthquakes themselves, the least resistible of
+natural violence. A concussion that should shatter the pyramid
+would threaten the dissolution of the continent.
+
+They measured all its dimensions, and pitched their tents at its
+foot. Next day they prepared to enter its interior apartments, and
+having hired the common guides, climbed up to the first passage;
+when the favourite of the Princess, looking into the cavity,
+stepped back and trembled. "Pekuah," said the Princess, "of what
+art thou afraid?"
+
+"Of the narrow entrance," answered the lady, "and of the dreadful
+gloom. I dare not enter a place which must surely be inhabited by
+unquiet souls. The original possessors of these dreadful vaults
+will start up before us, and perhaps shut us in for ever." She
+spoke, and threw her arms round the neck of her mistress.
+
+"If all your fear be of apparitions," said the Prince, "I will
+promise you safety. There is no danger from the dead: he that is
+once buried will be seen no more."
+
+"That the dead are seen no more," said Imlac, "I will not undertake
+to maintain against the concurrent and unvaried testimony of all
+ages and of all nations. There is no people, rude or learned,
+among whom apparitions of the dead are not related and believed.
+This opinion, which perhaps prevails as far as human nature is
+diffused, could become universal only by its truth: those that
+never heard of one another would not have agreed in a tale which
+nothing but experience can make credible. That it is doubted by
+single cavillers can very little weaken the general evidence, and
+some who deny it with their tongues confess it by their fears.
+
+"Yet I do not mean to add new terrors to those which have already
+seized upon Pekuah. There can be no reason why spectres should
+haunt the Pyramid more than other places, or why they should have
+power or will to hurt innocence and purity. Our entrance is no
+violation of their privileges: we can take nothing from them; how,
+then, can we offend them?"
+
+"My dear Pekuah," said the Princess, "I will always go before you,
+and Imlac shall follow you. Remember that you are the companion of
+the Princess of Abyssinia."
+
+"If the Princess is pleased that her servant should die," returned
+the lady, "let her command some death less dreadful than enclosure
+in this horrid cavern. You know I dare not disobey you--I must go
+if you command me; but if I once enter, I never shall come back."
+
+The Princess saw that her fear was too strong for expostulation or
+reproof, and, embracing her, told her that she should stay in the
+tent till their return. Pekuah was not yet satisfied, but
+entreated the Princess not to pursue so dreadful a purpose as that
+of entering the recesses of the Pyramids. "Though I cannot teach
+courage," said Nekayah, "I must not learn cowardice, nor leave at
+last undone what I came hither only to do."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII--THEY ENTER THE PYRAMID.
+
+
+
+Pekuah descended to the tents, and the rest entered the Pyramid.
+They passed through the galleries, surveyed the vaults of marble,
+and examined the chest in which the body of the founder is supposed
+to have been deposited. They then sat down in one of the most
+spacious chambers to rest awhile before they attempted to return.
+
+"We have now," said Imlac, "gratified our minds with an exact view
+of the greatest work of man, except the wall of China.
+
+"Of the wall it is very easy to assign the motive. It secured a
+wealthy and timorous nation from the incursions of barbarians,
+whose unskilfulness in the arts made it easier for them to supply
+their wants by rapine than by industry, and who from time to time
+poured in upon the inhabitants of peaceful commerce as vultures
+descend upon domestic fowl. Their celerity and fierceness made the
+wall necessary, and their ignorance made it efficacious.
+
+"But for the Pyramids, no reason has ever been given adequate to
+the cost and labour of the work. The narrowness of the chambers
+proves that it could afford no retreat from enemies, and treasures
+might have been reposited at far less expense with equal security.
+It seems to have been erected only in compliance with that hunger
+of imagination which preys incessantly upon life, and must be
+always appeased by some employment. Those who have already all
+that they can enjoy must enlarge their desires. He that has built
+for use till use is supplied must begin to build for vanity, and
+extend his plan to the utmost power of human performance that he
+may not be soon reduced to form another wish.
+
+"I consider this mighty structure as a monument of the
+insufficiency of human enjoyments. A king whose power is
+unlimited, and whose treasures surmount all real and imaginary
+wants, is compelled to solace, by the erection of a pyramid, the
+satiety of dominion and tastelessness of pleasures, and to amuse
+the tediousness of declining life by seeing thousands labouring
+without end, and one stone, for no purpose, laid upon another.
+Whoever thou art that, not content with a moderate condition,
+imaginest happiness in royal magnificence, and dreamest that
+command or riches can feed the appetite of novelty with perpetual
+gratifications, survey the Pyramids, and confess thy folly!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII--THE PRINCESS MEETS WITH AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE.
+
+
+
+They rose up, and returned through the cavity at which they had
+entered; and the Princess prepared for her favourite a long
+narrative of dark labyrinths and costly rooms, and of the different
+impressions which the varieties of the way had made upon her. But
+when they came to their train, they found every one silent and
+dejected: the men discovered shame and fear in their countenances,
+and the women were weeping in their tents.
+
+What had happened they did not try to conjecture, but immediately
+inquired. "You had scarcely entered into the Pyramid," said one of
+the attendants, "when a troop of Arabs rushed upon us: we were too
+few to resist them, and too slow to escape. They were about to
+search the tents, set us on our camels, and drive us along before
+them, when the approach of some Turkish horsemen put them to
+flight: but they seized the Lady Pekuah with her two maids, and
+carried them away: the Turks are now pursuing them by our
+instigation, but I fear they will not be able to overtake them."
+
+The Princess was overpowered with surprise and grief. Rasselas, in
+the first heat of his resentment, ordered his servants to follow
+him, and prepared to pursue the robbers with his sabre in his hand.
+"Sir," said Imlac, "what can you hope from violence or valour? The
+Arabs are mounted on horses trained to battle and retreat; we have
+only beasts of burden. By leaving our present station we may lose
+the Princess, but cannot hope to regain Pekuah."
+
+In a short time the Turks returned, having not been able to reach
+the enemy. The Princess burst out into new lamentations, and
+Rasselas could scarcely forbear to reproach them with cowardice;
+but Imlac was of opinion that the escape of the Arabs was no
+addition to their misfortune, for perhaps they would have killed
+their captives rather than have resigned them.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV--THEY RETURN TO CAIRO WITHOUT PEKUAH.
+
+
+
+There was nothing to be hoped from longer stay. They returned to
+Cairo, repenting of their curiosity, censuring the negligence of
+the government, lamenting their own rashness, which had neglected
+to procure a guard, imagining many expedients by which the loss of
+Pekuah might have been prevented, and resolving to do something for
+her recovery, though none could find anything proper to be done.
+
+Nekayah retired to her chamber, where her women attempted to
+comfort her by telling her that all had their troubles, and that
+Lady Pekuah had enjoyed much happiness in the world for a long
+time, and might reasonably expect a change of fortune. They hoped
+that some good would befall her wheresoever she was, and that their
+mistress would find another friend who might supply her place.
+
+The Princess made them no answer; and they continued the form of
+condolence, not much grieved in their hearts that the favourite was
+lost.
+
+Next day the Prince presented to the Bassa a memorial of the wrong
+which he had suffered, and a petition for redress. The Bassa
+threatened to punish the robbers, but did not attempt to catch
+them; nor indeed could any account or description be given by which
+he might direct the pursuit.
+
+It soon appeared that nothing would be done by authority.
+Governors being accustomed to hear of more crimes than they can
+punish, and more wrongs than they can redress, set themselves at
+ease by indiscriminate negligence, and presently forget the request
+when they lose sight of the petitioner.
+
+Imlac then endeavoured to gain some intelligence by private agents.
+He found many who pretended to an exact knowledge of all the haunts
+of the Arabs, and to regular correspondence with their chiefs, and
+who readily undertook the recovery of Pekuah. Of these, some were
+furnished with money for their journey, and came back no more; some
+were liberally paid for accounts which a few days discovered to be
+false. But the Princess would not suffer any means, however
+improbable, to be left untried. While she was doing something, she
+kept her hope alive. As one expedient failed, another was
+suggested; when one messenger returned unsuccessful, another was
+despatched to a different quarter.
+
+Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been heard;
+the hopes which they had endeavoured to raise in each other grew
+more languid; and the Princess, when she saw nothing more to be
+tried, sunk down inconsolable in hopeless dejection. A thousand
+times she reproached herself with the easy compliance by which she
+permitted her favourite to stay behind her. "Had not my fondness,"
+said she, "lessened my authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of
+her terrors. She ought to have feared me more than spectres. A
+severe look would have overpowered her; a peremptory command would
+have compelled obedience. Why did foolish indulgence prevail upon
+me? Why did I not speak, and refuse to hear?"
+
+"Great Princess," said Imlac, "do not reproach yourself for your
+virtue, or consider that as blameable by which evil has
+accidentally been caused. Your tenderness for the timidity of
+Pekuah was generous and kind. When we act according to our duty,
+we commit the events to Him by whose laws our actions are governed,
+and who will suffer none to be finally punished for obedience.
+When, in prospect of some good, whether natural or moral, we break
+the rules prescribed us, we withdraw from the direction of superior
+wisdom, and take all consequences upon ourselves. Man cannot so
+far know the connection of causes and events as that he may venture
+to do wrong in order to do right. When we pursue our end by lawful
+means, we may always console our miscarriage by the hope of future
+recompense. When we consult only our own policy, and attempt to
+find a nearer way to good by over-leaping the settled boundaries of
+right and wrong, we cannot be happy even by success, because we
+cannot escape the consciousness of our fault; but if we miscarry,
+the disappointment is irremediably embittered. How comfortless is
+the sorrow of him who feels at once the pangs of guilt and the
+vexation of calamity which guilt has brought upon him!
+
+"Consider, Princess, what would have been your condition if the
+Lady Pekuah had entreated to accompany you, and, being compelled to
+stay in the tents, had been carried away; or how would you have
+borne the thought if you had forced her into the Pyramid, and she
+had died before you in agonies of terror?"
+
+"Had either happened," said Nekayah, "I could not have endured life
+till now; I should have been tortured to madness by the remembrance
+of such cruelty, or must have pined away in abhorrence of myself."
+
+"This, at least," said Imlac, "is the present reward of virtuous
+conduct, that no unlucky consequence can oblige us to repent it."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV--THE PRINCESS LANGUISHES FOR WANT OF PEKUAH.
+
+
+
+Nekayah, being thus reconciled to herself, found that no evil is
+insupportable but that which is accompanied with consciousness of
+wrong. She was from that time delivered from the violence of
+tempestuous sorrow, and sunk into silent pensiveness and gloomy
+tranquillity. She sat from morning to evening recollecting all
+that had been done or said by her Pekuah, treasured up with care
+every trifle on which Pekuah had set an accidental value, and which
+might recall to mind any little incident or careless conversation.
+The sentiments of her whom she now expected to see no more were
+treasured in her memory as rules of life, and she deliberated to no
+other end than to conjecture on any occasion what would have been
+the opinion and counsel of Pekuah.
+
+The women by whom she was attended knew nothing of her real
+condition, and therefore she could not talk to them but with
+caution and reserve. She began to remit her curiosity, having no
+great desire to collect notions which she had no convenience of
+uttering. Rasselas endeavoured first to comfort and afterwards to
+divert her; he hired musicians, to whom she seemed to listen, but
+did not hear them; and procured masters to instruct her in various
+arts, whose lectures, when they visited her again, were again to be
+repeated. She had lost her taste of pleasure and her ambition of
+excellence; and her mind, though forced into short excursions,
+always recurred to the image of her friend.
+
+Imlac was every morning earnestly enjoined to renew his inquiries,
+and was asked every night whether he had yet heard of Pekuah; till,
+not being able to return the Princess the answer that she desired,
+he was less and less willing to come into her presence. She
+observed his backwardness, and commanded him to attend her. "You
+are not," said she, "to confound impatience with resentment, or to
+suppose that I charge you with negligence because I repine at your
+unsuccessfulness. I do not much wonder at your absence. I know
+that the unhappy are never pleasing, and that all naturally avoid
+the contagion of misery. To hear complaints is wearisome alike to
+the wretched and the happy; for who would cloud by adventitious
+grief the short gleams of gaiety which life allows us, or who that
+is struggling under his own evils will add to them the miseries of
+another?
+
+"The time is at hand when none shall be disturbed any longer by the
+sighs of Nekayah: my search after happiness is now at an end. I
+am resolved to retire from the world, with all its flatteries and
+deceits, and will hide myself in solitude, without any other care
+than to compose my thoughts and regulate my hours by a constant
+succession of innocent occupations, till, with a mind purified from
+earthly desires, I shall enter into that state to which all are
+hastening, and in which I hope again to enjoy the friendship of
+Pekuah."
+
+"Do not entangle your mind," said Imlac, "by irrevocable
+determinations, nor increase the burden of life by a voluntary
+accumulation of misery. The weariness of retirement will continue
+to increase when the loss of Pekuah is forgot. That you have been
+deprived of one pleasure is no very good reason for rejection of
+the rest."
+
+"Since Pekuah was taken from me," said the Princess, "I have no
+pleasure to reject or to retain. She that has no one to love or
+trust has little to hope. She wants the radical principle of
+happiness. We may perhaps allow that what satisfaction this world
+can afford must arise from the conjunction of wealth, knowledge,
+and goodness. Wealth is nothing but as it is bestowed, and
+knowledge nothing but as it is communicated. They must therefore
+be imparted to others, and to whom could I now delight to impart
+them? Goodness affords the only comfort which can be enjoyed
+without a partner, and goodness may be practised in retirement."
+
+"How far solitude may admit goodness or advance it, I shall not,"
+replied Imlac, "dispute at present. Remember the confession of the
+pious hermit. You will wish to return into the world when the
+image of your companion has left your thoughts."
+
+"That time," said Nekayah, "will never come. The generous
+frankness, the modest obsequiousness, and the faithful secrecy of
+my dear Pekuah will always be more missed as I shall live longer to
+see vice and folly."
+
+"The state of a mind oppressed with a sudden calamity," said Imlac,
+"is like that of the fabulous inhabitants of the new-created earth,
+who, when the first night came upon them, supposed that day would
+never return. When the clouds of sorrow gather over us, we see
+nothing beyond them, nor can imagine how they will be dispelled;
+yet a new day succeeded to the night, and sorrow is never long
+without a dawn of ease. But they who restrain themselves from
+receiving comfort do as the savages would have done had they put
+out their eyes when it was dark. Our minds, like our bodies, are
+in continual flux; something is hourly lost, and something
+acquired. To lose much at once is inconvenient to either, but
+while the vital power remains uninjured, nature will find the means
+of reparation. Distance has the same effect on the mind as on the
+eye; and while we glide along the stream of time, whatever we leave
+behind us is always lessening, and that which we approach
+increasing in magnitude. Do not suffer life to stagnate: it will
+grow muddy for want of motion; commit yourself again to the current
+of the world; Pekuah will vanish by degrees; you will meet in your
+way some other favourite, or learn to diffuse yourself in general
+conversation."
+
+"At least," said the Prince, "do not despair before all remedies
+have been tried. The inquiry after the unfortunate lady is still
+continued, and shall be carried on with yet greater diligence, on
+condition that you will promise to wait a year for the event,
+without any unalterable resolution."
+
+Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise to
+her brother, who had been obliged by Imlac to require it. Imlac
+had, indeed, no great hope of regaining Pekuah; but he supposed
+that if he could secure the interval of a year, the Princess would
+be then in no danger of a cloister.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI--PEKUAH IS STILL REMEMBERED. THE PROGRESS OF SORROW.
+
+
+
+Nekayah, seeing that nothing was omitted for the recovery of her
+favourite, and having by her promise set her intention of
+retirement at a distance, began imperceptibly to return to common
+cares and common pleasures. She rejoiced without her own consent
+at the suspension of her sorrows, and sometimes caught herself with
+indignation in the act of turning away her mind from the
+remembrance of her whom yet she resolved never to forget.
+
+She then appointed a certain hour of the day for meditation on the
+merits and fondness of Pekuah, and for some weeks retired
+constantly at the time fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen
+and her countenance clouded. By degrees she grew less scrupulous,
+and suffered any important and pressing avocation to delay the
+tribute of daily tears. She then yielded to less occasions, and
+sometimes forgot what she was indeed afraid to remember, and at
+last wholly released herself from the duty of periodical
+affliction.
+
+Her real love of Pekuah was not yet diminished. A thousand
+occurrences brought her back to memory, and a thousand wants, which
+nothing but the confidence of friendship can supply, made her
+frequently regretted. She therefore solicited Imlac never to
+desist from inquiry, and to leave no art of intelligence untried,
+that at least she might have the comfort of knowing that she did
+not suffer by negligence or sluggishness. "Yet what," said she,
+"is to be expected from our pursuit of happiness, when we find the
+state of life to be such that happiness itself is the cause of
+misery? Why should we endeavour to attain that of which the
+possession cannot be secured? I shall henceforward fear to yield
+my heart to excellence, however bright, or to fondness, however
+tender, lest I should lose again what I have lost in Pekuah."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII--THE PRINCESS HEARS NEWS OF PEKUAH.
+
+
+
+In seven mouths one of the messengers who had been sent away upon
+the day when the promise was drawn from the Princess, returned,
+after many unsuccessful rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with an
+account that Pekuah was in the hands of an Arab chief, who
+possessed a castle or fortress on the extremity of Egypt. The
+Arab, whose revenue was plunder, was willing to restore her, with
+her two attendants, for two hundred ounces of gold.
+
+The price was no subject of debate. The Princess was in ecstasies
+when she heard that her favourite was alive, and might so cheaply
+be ransomed. She could not think of delaying for a moment Pekuah's
+happiness or her own, but entreated her brother to send back the
+messenger with the sum required. Imlac, being consulted, was not
+very confident of the veracity of the relater, and was still more
+doubtful of the Arab's faith, who might, if he were too liberally
+trusted, detain at once the money and the captives. He thought it
+dangerous to put themselves in the power of the Arab by going into
+his district; and could not expect that the rover would so much
+expose himself as to come into the lower country, where he might be
+seized by the forces of the Bassa.
+
+It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust. But Imlac,
+after some deliberation, directed the messenger to propose that
+Pekuah should be conducted by ten horsemen to the monastery of St.
+Anthony, which is situated in the deserts of Upper Egypt, where she
+should be met by the same number, and her ransom should be paid.
+
+That no time might be lost, as they expected that the proposal
+would not be refused, they immediately began their journey to the
+monastery; and when they arrived, Imlac went forward with the
+former messenger to the Arab's fortress. Rasselas was desirous to
+go with them; but neither his sister nor Imlac would consent. The
+Arab, according to the custom of his nation, observed the laws of
+hospitality with great exactness to those who put themselves into
+his power, and in a few days brought Pekuah, with her maids, by
+easy journeys, to the place appointed, where, receiving the
+stipulated price, he restored her, with great respect, to liberty
+and her friends, and undertook to conduct them back towards Cairo
+beyond all danger of robbery or violence.
+
+The Princess and her favourite embraced each other with transport
+too violent to be expressed, and went out together to pour the
+tears of tenderness in secret, and exchange professions of kindness
+and gratitude. After a few hours they returned into the refectory
+of the convent, where, in the presence of the prior and his
+brethren, the Prince required of Pekuah the history of her
+adventures.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII--THE ADVENTURES OF THE LADY PEKUAH.
+
+
+
+"At what time and in what manner I was forced away," said Pekuah,
+"your servants have told you. The suddenness of the event struck
+me with surprise, and I was at first rather stupefied than agitated
+with any passion of either fear or sorrow. My confusion was
+increased by the speed and tumult of our flight, while we were
+followed by the Turks, who, as it seemed, soon despaired to
+overtake us, or were afraid of those whom they made a show of
+menacing.
+
+"When the Arabs saw themselves out of danger, they slackened their
+course; and as I was less harassed by external violence, I began to
+feel more uneasiness in my mind. After some time we stopped near a
+spring shaded with trees, in a pleasant meadow, where we were set
+upon the ground, and offered such refreshments as our masters were
+partaking. I was suffered to sit with my maids apart from the
+rest, and none attempted to comfort or insult us. Here I first
+began to feel the full weight of my misery. The girls sat weeping
+in silence, and from time to time looked on me for succour. I knew
+not to what condition we were doomed, nor could conjecture where
+would be the place of our captivity, or whence to draw any hope of
+deliverance. I was in the hands of robbers and savages, and had no
+reason to suppose that their pity was more than their justice, or
+that they would forbear the gratification of any ardour of desire
+or caprice of cruelty. I, however, kissed my maids, and
+endeavoured to pacify them by remarking that we were yet treated
+with decency, and that since we were now carried beyond pursuit,
+there was no danger of violence to our lives.
+
+"When we were to be set again on horseback, my maids clung round
+me, and refused to be parted; but I commanded them not to irritate
+those who had us in their power. We travelled the remaining part
+of the day through an unfrequented and pathless country, and came
+by moonlight to the side of a hill, where the rest of the troop was
+stationed. Their tents were pitched and their fires kindled, and
+our chief was welcomed as a man much beloved by his dependents.
+
+"We were received into a large tent, where we found women who had
+attended their husbands in the expedition. They set before us the
+supper which they had provided, and I ate it rather to encourage my
+maids than to comply with any appetite of my own. When the meat
+was taken away, they spread the carpets for repose. I was weary,
+and hoped to find in sleep that remission of distress which nature
+seldom denies. Ordering myself, therefore, to be undressed, I
+observed that the women looked very earnestly upon me, not
+expecting, I suppose, to see me so submissively attended. When my
+upper vest was taken off, they were apparently struck with the
+splendour of my clothes, and one of them timorously laid her hand
+upon the embroidery. She then went out, and in a short time came
+back with another woman, who seemed to be of higher rank and
+greater authority. She did, at her entrance, the usual act of
+reverence, and, taking me by the hand placed me in a smaller tent,
+spread with finer carpets, where I spent the night quietly with my
+maids.
+
+"In the morning, as I was sitting on the grass, the chief of the
+troop came towards me. I rose up to receive him, and he bowed with
+great respect. 'Illustrious lady,' said he, 'my fortune is better
+than I had presumed to hope: I am told by my women that I have a
+princess in my camp.' 'Sir,' answered I, 'your women have deceived
+themselves and you; I am not a princess, but an unhappy stranger
+who intended soon to have left this country, in which I am now to
+be imprisoned for ever.' 'Whoever or whencesoever you are,'
+returned the Arab, 'your dress and that of your servants show your
+rank to be high and your wealth to be great. Why should you, who
+can so easily procure your ransom, think yourself in danger of
+perpetual captivity? The purpose of my incursions is to increase
+my riches, or, more property, to gather tribute. The sons of
+Ishmael are the natural and hereditary lords of this part of the
+continent, which is usurped by late invaders and low-born tyrants,
+from whom we are compelled to take by the sword what is denied to
+justice. The violence of war admits no distinction: the lance
+that is lifted at guilt and power will sometimes fall on innocence
+and gentleness.'
+
+"'How little,' said I, 'did I expect that yesterday it should have
+fallen upon me!'
+
+"'Misfortunes,' answered the Arab, 'should always be expected. If
+the eye of hostility could learn reverence or pity, excellence like
+yours had been exempt from injury. But the angels of affliction
+spread their toils alike for the virtuous and the wicked, for the
+mighty and the mean. Do not be disconsolate; I am not one of the
+lawless and cruel rovers of the desert; I know the rules of civil
+life; I will fix your ransom, give a passport to your messenger,
+and perform my stipulation with nice punctuality.'
+
+"You will easily believe that I was pleased with his courtesy, and
+finding that his predominant passion was desire for money, I began
+now to think my danger less, for I knew that no sum would be
+thought too great for the release of Pekuah. I told him that he
+should have no reason to charge me with ingratitude if I was used
+with kindness, and that any ransom which could be expected for a
+maid of common rank would be paid, but that he must not persist to
+rate me as a princess. He said he would consider what he should
+demand, and then, smiling, bowed and retired.
+
+"Soon after the women came about me, each contending to be more
+officious than the other, and my maids themselves were served with
+reverence. We travelled onward by short journeys. On the fourth
+day the chief told me that my ransom must be two hundred ounces of
+gold, which I not only promised him, but told him that I would add
+fifty more if I and my maids were honourably treated.
+
+"I never knew the power of gold before. From that time I was the
+leader of the troop. The march of every day was longer or shorter
+as I commanded, and the tents were pitched where I chose to rest.
+We now had camels and other conveniences for travel; my own women
+were always at my side, and I amused myself with observing the
+manners of the vagrant nations, and with viewing remains of ancient
+edifices, with which these deserted countries appear to have been
+in some distant age lavishly embellished.
+
+"The chief of the band was a man far from illiterate: he was able
+to travel by the stars or the compass, and had marked in his
+erratic expeditions such places as are most worthy the notice of a
+passenger. He observed to me that buildings are always best
+preserved in places little frequented and difficult of access; for
+when once a country declines from its primitive splendour, the more
+inhabitants are left, the quicker ruin will be made. Walls supply
+stones more easily than quarries; and palaces and temples will be
+demolished to make stables of granite and cottages of porphyry.'"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX--THE ADVENTURES OF PEKUAH (continued).
+
+
+
+"We wandered about in this manner for some weeks, either, as our
+chief pretended, for my gratification, or, as I rather suspected,
+for some convenience of his own. I endeavoured to appear contented
+where sullenness and resentment would have been of no use, and that
+endeavour conduced much to the calmness of my mind; but my heart
+was always with Nekayah, and the troubles of the night much
+overbalanced the amusements of the day. My women, who threw all
+their cares upon their mistress, set their minds at ease from the
+time when they saw me treated with respect, and gave themselves up
+to the incidental alleviations of our fatigue without solicitude or
+sorrow. I was pleased with their pleasure, and animated with their
+confidence. My condition had lost much of its terror, since I
+found that the Arab ranged the country merely to get riches.
+Avarice is a uniform and tractable vice: other intellectual
+distempers are different in different constitutions of mind; that
+which soothes the pride of one will offend the pride of another;
+but to the favour of the covetous there is a ready way--bring
+money, and nothing is denied.
+
+"At last we came to the dwelling of our chief; a strong and
+spacious house, built with stone in an island of the Nile, which
+lies, as I was told, under the tropic. 'Lady,' said the Arab, 'you
+shall rest after your journey a few weeks in this place, where you
+are to consider yourself as Sovereign. My occupation is war: I
+have therefore chosen this obscure residence, from which I can
+issue unexpected, and to which I can retire unpursued. You may now
+repose in security: here are few pleasures, but here is no
+danger.' He then led me into the inner apartments, and seating me
+on the richest couch, bowed to the ground.
+
+"His women, who considered me as a rival, looked on me with
+malignity; but being soon informed that I was a great lady detained
+only for my ransom, they began to vie with each other in
+obsequiousness and reverence.
+
+"Being again comforted with new assurances of speedy liberty, I was
+for some days diverted from impatience by the novelty of the place.
+The turrets overlooked the country to a great distance, and
+afforded a view of many windings of the stream. In the day I
+wandered from one place to another, as the course of the sun varied
+the splendour of the prospect, and saw many things which I had
+never seen before. The crocodiles and river-horses are common in
+this unpeopled region; and I often looked upon them with terror,
+though I knew they could not hurt me. For some time I expected to
+see mermaids and tritons, which, as Imlac has told me, the European
+travellers have stationed in the Nile; but no such beings ever
+appeared, and the Arab, when I inquired after them, laughed at my
+credulity.
+
+"At night the Arab always attended me to a tower set apart for
+celestial observations, where he endeavoured to teach me the names
+and courses of the stars. I had no great inclination to this
+study; but an appearance of attention was necessary to please my
+instructor, who valued himself for his skill, and in a little while
+I found some employment requisite to beguile the tediousness of
+time, which was to be passed always amidst the same objects. I was
+weary of looking in the morning on things from which I had turned
+away weary in the evening: I therefore was at last willing to
+observe the stars rather than do nothing, but could not always
+compose my thoughts, and was very often thinking on Nekayah when
+others imagined me contemplating the sky. Soon after, the Arab
+went upon another expedition, and then my only pleasure was to talk
+with my maids about the accident by which we were carried away, and
+the happiness we should all enjoy at the end of our captivity."
+
+"There were women in your Arab's fortress," said the Princess; "why
+did you not make them your companions, enjoy their conversation,
+and partake their diversions? In a place where they found business
+or amusement, why should you alone sit corroded with idle
+melancholy? or why could not you bear for a few months that
+condition to which they were condemned for life?"
+
+"The diversions of the women," answered Pekuah, "were only childish
+play, by which the mind accustomed to stronger operations could not
+be kept busy. I could do all which they delighted in doing by
+powers merely sensitive, while my intellectual faculties were flown
+to Cairo. They ran from room to room, as a bird hops from wire to
+wire in his cage. They danced for the sake of motion, as lambs
+frisk in a meadow. One sometimes pretended to be hurt that the
+rest might be alarmed, or hid herself that another might seek her.
+Part of their time passed in watching the progress of light bodies
+that floated on the river, and part in marking the various forms
+into which clouds broke in the sky.
+
+"Their business was only needlework, in which I and my maids
+sometimes helped them; but you know that the mind will easily
+straggle from the fingers, nor will you suspect that captivity and
+absence from Nekayah could receive solace from silken flowers.
+
+"Nor was much satisfaction to be hoped from their conversation:
+for of what could they be expected to talk? They had seen nothing,
+for they had lived from early youth in that narrow spot: of what
+they had not seen they could have no knowledge, for they could not
+read. They had no idea but of the few things that were within
+their view, and had hardly names for anything but their clothes and
+their food. As I bore a superior character, I was often called to
+terminate their quarrels, which I decided as equitably as I could.
+If it could have amused me to hear the complaints of each against
+the rest, I might have been often detained by long stories; but the
+motives of their animosity were so small that I could not listen
+without interrupting the tale."
+
+"How," said Rasselas, "can the Arab, whom you represented as a man
+of more than common accomplishments, take any pleasure in his
+seraglio, when it is filled only with women like these? Are they
+exquisitely beautiful?"
+
+"They do not," said Pekuah, "want that unaffecting and ignoble
+beauty which may subsist without sprightliness or sublimity,
+without energy of thought or dignity of virtue. But to a man like
+the Arab such beauty was only a flower casually plucked and
+carelessly thrown away. Whatever pleasures he might find among
+them, they were not those of friendship or society. When they were
+playing about him he looked on them with inattentive superiority;
+when they vied for his regard he sometimes turned away disgusted.
+As they had no knowledge, their talk could take nothing from the
+tediousness of life; as they had no choice, their fondness, or
+appearance of fondness, excited in him neither pride nor gratitude.
+He was not exalted in his own esteem by the smiles of a woman who
+saw no other man, nor was much obliged by that regard of which he
+could never know the sincerity, and which he might often perceive
+to be exerted not so much to delight him as to pain a rival. That
+which he gave, and they received, as love, was only a careless
+distribution of superfluous time, such love as man can bestow upon
+that which he despises, such as has neither hope nor fear, neither
+joy nor sorrow."
+
+"You have reason, lady, to think yourself happy," said Imlac, "that
+you have been thus easily dismissed. How could a mind, hungry for
+knowledge, be willing, in an intellectual famine, to lose such a
+banquet as Pekuah's conversation?"
+
+"I am inclined to believe," answered Pekuah, "that he was for some
+time in suspense; for, notwithstanding his promise, whenever I
+proposed to despatch a messenger to Cairo he found some excuse for
+delay. While I was detained in his house he made many incursions
+into the neighbouring countries, and perhaps he would have refused
+to discharge me had his plunder been equal to his wishes. He
+returned always courteous, related his adventures, delighted to
+hear my observations, and endeavoured to advance my acquaintance
+with the stars. When I importuned him to send away my letters, he
+soothed me with professions of honour and sincerity; and when I
+could be no longer decently denied, put his troop again in motion,
+and left me to govern in his absence. I was much afflicted by this
+studied procrastination, and was sometimes afraid that I should be
+forgotten; that you would leave Cairo, and I must end my days in an
+island of the Nile.
+
+"I grew at last hopeless and dejected, and cared so little to
+entertain him, that he for a while more frequently talked with my
+maids. That he should fall in love with them or with me, might
+have been equally fatal, and I was not much pleased with the
+growing friendship. My anxiety was not long, for, as I recovered
+some degree of cheerfulness, he returned to me, and I could not
+forbear to despise my former uneasiness.
+
+"He still delayed to send for my ransom, and would perhaps never
+have determined had not your agent found his way to him. The gold,
+which he would not fetch, he could not reject when it was offered.
+He hastened to prepare for our journey hither, like a man delivered
+from the pain of an intestine conflict. I took leave of my
+companions in the house, who dismissed me with cold indifference."
+
+Nekayah having heard her favourite's relation, rose and embraced
+her, and Rasselas gave her a hundred ounces of gold, which she
+presented to the Arab for the fifty that were promised.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL--THE HISTORY OF A MAN OF LEARNING.
+
+
+
+They returned to Cairo, and were so well pleased at finding
+themselves together that none of them went much abroad. The Prince
+began to love learning, and one day declared to Imlac that he
+intended to devote himself to science and pass the rest of his days
+in literary solitude.
+
+"Before you make your final choice," answered Imlac, "you ought to
+examine its hazards, and converse with some of those who are grown
+old in the company of themselves. I have just left the observatory
+of one of the most learned astronomers in the world, who has spent
+forty years in unwearied attention to the motion and appearances of
+the celestial bodies, and has drawn out his soul in endless
+calculations. He admits a few friends once a month to hear his
+deductions and enjoy his discoveries. I was introduced as a man of
+knowledge worthy of his notice. Men of various ideas and fluent
+conversation are commonly welcome to those whose thoughts have been
+long fixed upon a single point, and who find the images of other
+things stealing away. I delighted him with my remarks. He smiled
+at the narrative of my travels, and was glad to forget the
+constellations and descend for a moment into the lower world.
+
+"On the next day of vacation I renewed my visit, and was so
+fortunate as to please him again. He relaxed from that time the
+severity of his rule, and permitted me to enter at my own choice.
+I found him always busy, and always glad to be relieved. As each
+knew much which the other was desirous of learning, we exchanged
+our notions with great delight. I perceived that I had every day
+more of his confidence, and always found new cause of admiration in
+the profundity of his mind. His comprehension is vast, his memory
+capacious and retentive, his discourse is methodical, and his
+expression clear.
+
+"His integrity and benevolence are equal to his learning. His
+deepest researches and most favourite studies are willingly
+interrupted for any opportunity of doing good by his counsel or his
+riches. To his closest retreat, at his most busy moments, all are
+admitted that want his assistance; 'For though I exclude idleness
+and pleasure, I will never,' says he, 'bar my doors against
+charity. To man is permitted the contemplation of the skies, but
+the practice of virtue is commanded.'"
+
+"Surely," said the Princess, "this man is happy."
+
+"I visited him," said Imlac, "with more and more frequency, and was
+every time more enamoured of his conversation; he was sublime
+without haughtiness, courteous without formality, and communicative
+without ostentation. I was at first, great Princess, of your
+opinion, thought him the happiest of mankind, and often
+congratulated him on the blessing that he enjoyed. He seemed to
+hear nothing with indifference but the praises of his condition, to
+which he always returned a general answer, and diverted the
+conversation to some other topic.
+
+"Amidst this willingness to be pleased and labour to please, I had
+quickly reason to imagine that some painful sentiment pressed upon
+his mind. He often looked up earnestly towards the sun, and let
+his voice fall in the midst of his discourse. He would sometimes,
+when we were alone, gaze upon me in silence with the air of a man
+who longed to speak what he was yet resolved to suppress. He would
+often send for me with vehement injunction of haste, though when I
+came to him he had nothing extraordinary to say; and sometimes,
+when I was leaving him, would call me back, pause a few moments,
+and then dismiss me."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI--THE ASTRONOMER DISCOVERS THE CAUSE OF HIS UNEASINESS.
+
+
+
+"At last the time came when the secret burst his reserve. We were
+sitting together last night in the turret of his house watching the
+immersion of a satellite of Jupiter. A sudden tempest clouded the
+sky and disappointed our observation. We sat awhile silent in the
+dark, and then he addressed himself to me in these words: 'Imlac,
+I have long considered thy friendship as the greatest blessing of
+my life. Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, and
+knowledge without integrity is dangerous and dreadful. I have
+found in thee all the qualities requisite for trust--benevolence,
+experience, and fortitude. I have long discharged an office which
+I must soon quit at the call of Nature, and shall rejoice in the
+hour of imbecility and pain to devolve it upon thee.'
+
+"I thought myself honoured by this testimony, and protested that
+whatever could conduce to his happiness would add likewise to mine.
+
+"'Hear, Imlac, what thou wilt not without difficulty credit. I
+have possessed for five years the regulation of the weather and the
+distribution of the seasons. The sun has listened to my dictates,
+and passed from tropic to tropic by my direction; the clouds at my
+call have poured their waters, and the Nile has overflowed at my
+command. I have restrained the rage of the dog-star, and mitigated
+the fervours of the crab. The winds alone, of all the elemental
+powers, have hitherto refused my authority, and multitudes have
+perished by equinoctial tempests which I found myself unable to
+prohibit or restrain. I have administered this great office with
+exact justice, and made to the different nations of the earth an
+impartial dividend of rain and sunshine. What must have been the
+misery of half the globe if I had limited the clouds to particular
+regions, or confined the sun to either side of the equator?'"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII--THE OPINION OF THE ASTRONOMER IS EXPLAINED AND
+JUSTIFIED.
+
+
+
+"I suppose he discovered in me, through the obscurity of the room,
+some tokens of amazement and doubt, for after a short pause he
+proceeded thus:-
+
+"'Not to be easily credited will neither surprise nor offend me,
+for I am probably the first of human beings to whom this trust has
+been imparted. Nor do I know whether to deem this distinction a
+reward or punishment. Since I have possessed it I have been far
+less happy than before, and nothing but the consciousness of good
+intention could have enabled me to support the weariness of
+unremitted vigilance.'
+
+"'How long, sir,' said I, 'has this great office been in your
+hands?'
+
+"'About ten years ago,' said he, 'my daily observations of the
+changes of the sky led me to consider whether, if I had the power
+of the seasons, I could confer greater plenty upon the inhabitants
+of the earth. This contemplation fastened on my mind, and I sat
+days and nights in imaginary dominion, pouring upon this country
+and that the showers of fertility, and seconding every fall of rain
+with a due proportion of sunshine. I had yet only the will to do
+good, and did not imagine that I should ever have the power.
+
+"'One day as I was looking on the fields withering with heat, I
+felt in my mind a sudden wish that I could send rain on the
+southern mountains, and raise the Nile to an inundation. In the
+hurry of my imagination I commanded rain to fall; and by comparing
+the time of my command with that of the inundation, I found that
+the clouds had listened to my lips.'
+
+"'Might not some other cause,' said I, 'produce this concurrence?
+The Nile does not always rise on the same day.'
+
+"'Do not believe,' said he, with impatience, 'that such objections
+could escape me. I reasoned long against my own conviction, and
+laboured against truth with the utmost obstinacy. I sometimes
+suspected myself of madness, and should not have dared to impart
+this secret but to a man like you, capable of distinguishing the
+wonderful from the impossible, and the incredible from the false.'
+
+"'Why, sir,' said I, 'do you call that incredible which you know,
+or think you know, to be true?'
+
+"'Because,' said he, 'I cannot prove it by any external evidence;
+and I know too well the laws of demonstration to think that my
+conviction ought to influence another, who cannot, like me, be
+conscious of its force. I therefore shall not attempt to gain
+credit by disputation. It is sufficient that I feel this power
+that I have long possessed, and every day exerted it. But the life
+of man is short; the infirmities of age increase upon me, and the
+time will soon come when the regulator of the year must mingle with
+the dust. The care of appointing a successor has long disturbed
+me; the night and the day have been spent in comparisons of all the
+characters which have come to my knowledge, and I have yet found
+none so worthy as thyself.'"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII--THE ASTRONOMER LEAVES IMLAC HIS DIRECTIONS.
+
+
+
+"'Hear, therefore, what I shall impart with attention, such as the
+welfare of a world requires. If the task of a king be considered
+as difficult, who has the care only of a few millions, to whom he
+cannot do much good or harm, what must be the anxiety of him on
+whom depends the action of the elements and the great gifts of
+light and heat? Hear me, therefore, with attention.
+
+"'I have diligently considered the position of the earth and sun,
+and formed innumerable schemes, in which I changed their situation.
+I have sometimes turned aside the axis of the earth, and sometimes
+varied the ecliptic of the sun, but I have found it impossible to
+make a disposition by which the world may be advantaged; what one
+region gains another loses by an imaginable alteration, even
+without considering the distant parts of the solar system with
+which we are acquainted. Do not, therefore, in thy administration
+of the year, indulge thy pride by innovation; do not please thyself
+with thinking that thou canst make thyself renowned to all future
+ages by disordering the seasons. The memory of mischief is no
+desirable fame. Much less will it become thee to let kindness or
+interest prevail. Never rob other countries of rain to pour it on
+thine own. For us the Nile is sufficient.'
+
+"I promised that when I possessed the power I would use it with
+inflexible integrity; and he dismissed me, pressing my hand. 'My
+heart,' said he, 'will be now at rest, and my benevolence will no
+more destroy my quiet; I have found a man of wisdom and virtue, to
+whom I can cheerfully bequeath the inheritance of the sun.'"
+
+The Prince heard this narration with very serious regard; but the
+Princess smiled, and Pekuah convulsed herself with laughter.
+"Ladies," said Imlac, "to mock the heaviest of human afflictions is
+neither charitable nor wise. Few can attain this man's knowledge
+and few practise his virtues, but all may suffer his calamity. Of
+the uncertainties of our present state, the most dreadful and
+alarming is the uncertain continuance of reason."
+
+The Princess was recollected, and the favourite was abashed.
+Rasselas, more deeply affected, inquired of Imlac whether he
+thought such maladies of the mind frequent, and how they were
+contracted.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV--THE DANGEROUS PREVALENCE OF IMAGINATION.
+
+
+
+"Disorders of intellect," answered Imlac, "happen much more often
+than superficial observers will easily believe. Perhaps if we
+speak with rigorous exactness, no human mind is in its right state.
+There is no man whose imagination does not sometimes predominate
+over his reason who can regulate his attention wholly by his will,
+and whose ideas will come and go at his command. No man will be
+found in whose mind airy notions do not sometimes tyrannise, and
+force him to hope or fear beyond the limits of sober probability.
+All power of fancy over reason is a degree of insanity, but while
+this power is such as we can control and repress it is not visible
+to others, nor considered as any deprivation of the mental
+faculties; it is not pronounced madness but when it becomes
+ungovernable, and apparently influences speech or action.
+
+"To indulge the power of fiction and send imagination out upon the
+wing is often the sport of those who delight too much in silent
+speculation. When we are alone we are not always busy; the labour
+of excogitation is too violent to last long; the ardour of inquiry
+will sometimes give way to idleness or satiety. He who has nothing
+external that can divert him must find pleasure in his own
+thoughts, and must conceive himself what he is not; for who is
+pleased with what he is? He then expatiates in boundless futurity,
+and culls from all imaginable conditions that which for the present
+moment he should most desire, amuses his desires with impossible
+enjoyments, and confers upon his pride unattainable dominion. The
+mind dances from scene to scene, unites all pleasures in all
+combinations, and riots in delights which Nature and fortune, with
+all their bounty, cannot bestow.
+
+"In time some particular train of ideas fixes the attention; all
+other intellectual gratifications are rejected; the mind, in
+weariness or leisure, recurs constantly to the favourite
+conception, and feasts on the luscious falsehood whenever she is
+offended with the bitterness of truth. By degrees the reign of
+fancy is confirmed; she grows first imperious and in time despotic.
+Then fictions begin to operate as realities, false opinions fasten
+upon the mind, and life passes in dreams of rapture or of anguish.
+
+"This, sir, is one of the dangers of solitude, which the hermit has
+confessed not always to promote goodness, and the astronomer's
+misery has proved to be not always propitious to wisdom."
+
+"I will no more," said the favourite, "imagine myself the Queen of
+Abyssinia. I have often spent the hours which the Princess gave to
+my own disposal in adjusting ceremonies and regulating the Court; I
+have repressed the pride of the powerful and granted the petitions
+of the poor; I have built new palaces in more happy situations,
+planted groves upon the tops of mountains, and have exulted in the
+beneficence of royalty, till, when the Princess entered, I had
+almost forgotten to bow down before her."
+
+"And I," said the Princess, "will not allow myself any more to play
+the shepherdess in my waking dreams. I have often soothed my
+thoughts with the quiet and innocence of pastoral employments, till
+I have in my chamber heard the winds whistle and the sheep bleat;
+sometimes freed the lamb entangled in the thicket, and sometimes
+with my crook encountered the wolf. I have a dress like that of
+the village maids, which I put on to help my imagination, and a
+pipe on which I play softly, and suppose myself followed by my
+flocks."
+
+"I will confess," said the Prince, "an indulgence of fantastic
+delight more dangerous than yours. I have frequently endeavoured
+to imagine the possibility of a perfect government, by which all
+wrong should be restrained, all vice reformed, and all the subjects
+preserved in tranquillity and innocence. This thought produced
+innumerable schemes of reformation, and dictated many useful
+regulations and salutary effects. This has been the sport and
+sometimes the labour of my solitude, and I start when I think with
+how little anguish I once supposed the death of my father and my
+brothers."
+
+"Such," said Imlac, "are the effects of visionary schemes. When we
+first form them, we know them to be absurd, but familiarise them by
+degrees, and in time lose sight of their folly."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV--THEY DISCOURSE WITH AN OLD MAN.
+
+
+
+The evening was now far past, and they rose to return home. As
+they walked along the banks of the Nile, delighted with the beams
+of the moon quivering on the water, they saw at a small distance an
+old man whom the Prince had often heard in the assembly of the
+sages. "Yonder," said he, "is one whose years have calmed his
+passions, but not clouded his reason. Let us close the
+disquisitions of the night by inquiring what are his sentiments of
+his own state, that we may know whether youth alone is to struggle
+with vexation, and whether any better hope remains for the latter
+part of life."
+
+Here the sage approached and saluted them. They invited him to
+join their walk, and prattled awhile as acquaintance that had
+unexpectedly met one another. The old man was cheerful and
+talkative, and the way seemed short in his company. He was pleased
+to find himself not disregarded, accompanied them to their house,
+and, at the Prince's request, entered with them. They placed him
+in the seat of honour, and set wine and conserves before him.
+
+"Sir," said the Princess, "an evening walk must give to a man of
+learning like you pleasures which ignorance and youth can hardly
+conceive. You know the qualities and the causes of all that you
+behold--the laws by which the river flows, the periods in which the
+planets perform their revolutions. Everything must supply you with
+contemplation, and renew the consciousness of your own dignity."
+
+"Lady," answered he, "let the gay and the vigorous expect pleasure
+in their excursions: it is enough that age can attain ease. To me
+the world has lost its novelty. I look round, and see what I
+remember to have seen in happier days. I rest against a tree, and
+consider that in the same shade I once disputed upon the annual
+overflow of the Nile with a friend who is now silent in the grave.
+I cast my eyes upwards, fix them on the changing moon, and think
+with pain on the vicissitudes of life. I have ceased to take much
+delight in physical truth; for what have I to do with those things
+which I am soon to leave?"
+
+"You may at least recreate yourself," said Imlac, "with the
+recollection of an honourable and useful life, and enjoy the praise
+which all agree to give you."
+
+"Praise," said the sage with a sigh, "is to an old man an empty
+sound. I have neither mother to be delighted with the reputation
+of her son, nor wife to partake the honours of her husband. I have
+outlived my friends and my rivals. Nothing is now of much
+importance; for I cannot extend my interest beyond myself. Youth
+is delighted with applause, because it is considered as the earnest
+of some future good, and because the prospect of life is far
+extended; but to me, who am now declining to decrepitude, there is
+little to be feared from the malevolence of men, and yet less to be
+hoped from their affection or esteem. Something they may yet take
+away, but they can give me nothing. Riches would now be useless,
+and high employment would be pain. My retrospect of life recalls
+to my view many opportunities of good neglected, much time
+squandered upon trifles, and more lost in idleness and vacancy. I
+leave many great designs unattempted, and many great attempts
+unfinished. My mind is burdened with no heavy crime, and therefore
+I compose myself to tranquillity; endeavour to abstract my thoughts
+from hopes and cares which, though reason knows them to be vain,
+still try to keep their old possession of the heart; expect, with
+serene humility, that hour which nature cannot long delay, and hope
+to possess in a better state that happiness which here I could not
+find, and that virtue which here I have not attained."
+
+He arose and went away, leaving his audience not much elated with
+the hope of long life. The Prince consoled himself with remarking
+that it was not reasonable to be disappointed by this account; for
+age had never been considered as the season of felicity, and if it
+was possible to be easy in decline and weakness, it was likely that
+the days of vigour and alacrity might be happy; that the noon of
+life might be bright, if the evening could be calm.
+
+The Princess suspected that age was querulous and malignant, and
+delighted to repress the expectations of those who had newly
+entered the world. She had seen the possessors of estates look
+with envy on their heirs, and known many who enjoyed pleasures no
+longer than they could confine it to themselves.
+
+Pekuah conjectured that the man was older than he appeared, and was
+willing to impute his complaints to delirious dejection; or else
+supposed that he had been unfortunate, and was therefore
+discontented. "For nothing," said she, "is more common than to
+call our own condition the condition of life."
+
+Imlac, who had no desire to see them depressed, smiled at the
+comforts which they could so readily procure to themselves; and
+remembered that at the same age he was equally confident of
+unmingled prosperity, and equally fertile of consolatory
+expedients. He forbore to force upon them unwelcome knowledge,
+which time itself would too soon impress. The Princess and her
+lady retired; the madness of the astronomer hung upon their minds;
+and they desired Imlac to enter upon his office, and delay next
+morning the rising of the sun.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI--THE PRINCESS AND PEKUAH VISIT THE ASTRONOMER.
+
+
+
+The Princess and Pekuah, having talked in private of Imlac's
+astronomer, thought his character at once so amiable and so strange
+that they could not be satisfied without a nearer knowledge, and
+Imlac was requested to find the means of bringing them together.
+
+This was somewhat difficult. The philosopher had never received
+any visits from women, though he lived in a city that had in it
+many Europeans, who followed the manners of their own countries,
+and many from other parts of the world, that lived there with
+European liberty. The ladies would not be refused, and several
+schemes were proposed for the accomplishment of their design. It
+was proposed to introduce them as strangers in distress, to whom
+the sage was always accessible; but after some deliberation it
+appeared that by this artifice no acquaintance could be formed, for
+their conversation would be short, and they could not decently
+importune him often. "This," said Rasselas, "is true; but I have
+yet a stronger objection against the misrepresentation of your
+state. I have always considered it as treason against the great
+republic of human nature to make any man's virtues the means of
+deceiving him, whether on great or little occasions. All imposture
+weakens confidence and chills benevolence. When the sage finds
+that you are not what you seemed, he will feel the resentment
+natural to a man who, conscious of great abilities, discovers that
+he has been tricked by understandings meaner than his own, and
+perhaps the distrust which he can never afterwards wholly lay aside
+may stop the voice of counsel and close the hand of charity; and
+where will you find the power of restoring his benefactions to
+mankind, or his peace to himself?"
+
+To this no reply was attempted, and Imlac began to hope that their
+curiosity would subside; but next day Pekuah told him she had now
+found an honest pretence for a visit to the astronomer, for she
+would solicit permission to continue under him the studies in which
+she had been initiated by the Arab, and the Princess might go with
+her, either as a fellow-student, or because a woman could not
+decently come alone. "I am afraid," said Imlac, "that he will soon
+be weary of your company. Men advanced far in knowledge do not
+love to repeat the elements of their art, and I am not certain that
+even of the elements, as he will deliver them, connected with
+inferences and mingled with reflections, you are a very capable
+auditress." "That," said Pekuah, "must be my care. I ask of you
+only to take me thither. My knowledge is perhaps more than you
+imagine it, and by concurring always with his opinions I shall make
+him think it greater than it is."
+
+The astronomer, in pursuance of this resolution, was told that a
+foreign lady, travelling in search of knowledge, had heard of his
+reputation, and was desirous to become his scholar. The
+uncommonness of the proposal raised at once his surprise and
+curiosity, and when after a short deliberation he consented to
+admit her, he could not stay without impatience till the next day.
+
+The ladies dressed themselves magnificently, and were attended by
+Imlac to the astronomer, who was pleased to see himself approached
+with respect by persons of so splendid an appearance. In the
+exchange of the first civilities he was timorous and bashful; but
+when the talk became regular, he recollected his powers, and
+justified the character which Imlac had given. Inquiring of Pekuah
+what could have turned her inclination towards astronomy, he
+received from her a history of her adventure at the Pyramid, and of
+the time passed in the Arab's island. She told her tale with ease
+and elegance, and her conversation took possession of his heart.
+The discourse was then turned to astronomy. Pekuah displayed what
+she knew. He looked upon her as a prodigy of genius, and entreated
+her not to desist from a study which she had so happily begun.
+
+They came again and again, and were every time more welcome than
+before. The sage endeavoured to amuse them, that they might
+prolong their visits, for he found his thoughts grow brighter in
+their company; the clouds of solitude vanished by degrees as he
+forced himself to entertain them, and he grieved when he was left,
+at their departure, to his old employment of regulating the
+seasons.
+
+The Princess and her favourite had now watched his lips for several
+months, and could not catch a single word from which they could
+judge whether he continued or not in the opinion of his
+preternatural commission. They often contrived to bring him to an
+open declaration; but he easily eluded all their attacks, and, on
+which side soever they pressed him, escaped from them to some other
+topic.
+
+As their familiarity increased, they invited him often to the house
+of Imlac, where they distinguished him by extraordinary respect.
+He began gradually to delight in sublunary pleasures. He came
+early and departed late; laboured to recommend himself by assiduity
+and compliance; excited their curiosity after new arts, that they
+might still want his assistance; and when they made any excursion
+of pleasure or inquiry, entreated to attend them.
+
+By long experience of his integrity and wisdom, the Prince and his
+sister were convinced that he might be trusted without danger; and
+lest he should draw any false hopes from the civilities which he
+received, discovered to him their condition, with the motives of
+their journey, and required his opinion on the choice of life.
+
+"Of the various conditions which the world spreads before you which
+you shall prefer," said the sage, "I am not able to instruct you.
+I can only tell that I have chosen wrong. I have passed my time in
+study without experience--in the attainment of sciences which can
+for the most part be but remotely useful to mankind. I have
+purchased knowledge at the expense of all the common comforts of
+life; I have missed the endearing elegance of female friendship,
+and the happy commerce of domestic tenderness. If I have obtained
+any prerogatives above other students, they have been accompanied
+with fear, disquiet, and scrupulosity; but even of these
+prerogatives, whatever they were, I have, since my thoughts have
+been diversified by more intercourse with the world, begun to
+question the reality. When I have been for a few days lost in
+pleasing dissipation, I am always tempted to think that my
+inquiries have ended in error, and that I have suffered much, and
+suffered it in vain."
+
+Imlac was delighted to find that the sage's understanding was
+breaking through its mists, and resolved to detain him from the
+planets till he should forget his task of ruling them, and reason
+should recover its original influence.
+
+From this time the astronomer was received into familiar
+friendship, and partook of all their projects and pleasures; his
+respect kept him attentive, and the activity of Rasselas did not
+leave much time unengaged. Something was always to be done; the
+day was spent in making observations, which furnished talk for the
+evening, and the evening was closed with a scheme for the morrow.
+
+The sage confessed to Imlac that since he had mingled in the gay
+tumults of life, and divided his hours by a succession of
+amusements, he found the conviction of his authority over the skies
+fade gradually from his mind, and began to trust less to an opinion
+which he never could prove to others, and which he now found
+subject to variation, from causes in which reason had no part. "If
+I am accidentally left alone for a few hours," said he, "my
+inveterate persuasion rushes upon my soul, and my thoughts are
+chained down by some irresistible violence; but they are soon
+disentangled by the Prince's conversation, and instantaneously
+released at the entrance of Pekuah. I am like a man habitually
+afraid of spectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and wonders at
+the dread which harassed him in the dark; yet, if his lamp be
+extinguished, feels again the terrors which he knows that when it
+is light he shall feel no more. But I am sometimes afraid, lest I
+indulge my quiet by criminal negligence, and voluntarily forget the
+great charge with which I am entrusted. If I favour myself in a
+known error, or am determined by my own ease in a doubtful question
+of this importance, how dreadful is my crime!"
+
+"No disease of the imagination," answered Imlac, "is so difficult
+of cure as that which is complicated with the dread of guilt; fancy
+and conscience then act interchangeably upon us, and so often shift
+their places, that the illusions of one are not distinguished from
+the dictates of the other. If fancy presents images not moral or
+religious, the mind drives them away when they give it pain; but
+when melancholy notions take the form of duty, they lay hold on the
+faculties without opposition, because we are afraid to exclude or
+banish them. For this reason the superstitious are often
+melancholy, and the melancholy almost always superstitious.
+
+"But do not let the suggestions of timidity overpower your better
+reason; the danger of neglect can be but as the probability of the
+obligation, which, when you consider it with freedom, you find very
+little, and that little growing every day less. Open your heart to
+the influence of the light, which from time to time breaks in upon
+you; when scruples importune you, which you in your lucid moments
+know to be vain, do not stand to parley, but fly to business or to
+Pekuah; and keep this thought always prevalent, that you are only
+one atom of the mass of humanity, and have neither such virtue nor
+vice as that you should be singled out for supernatural favours or
+afflictions."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII--THE PRINCE ENTERS, AND BRINGS A NEW TOPIC.
+
+
+
+"All this," said the astronomer, "I have often thought; but my
+reason has been so long subjugated by an uncontrollable and
+overwhelming idea, that it durst not confide in its own decisions.
+I now see how fatally I betrayed my quiet, by suffering chimeras to
+prey upon me in secret; but melancholy shrinks from communication,
+and I never found a man before to whom I could impart my troubles,
+though I had been certain of relief. I rejoice to find my own
+sentiments confirmed by yours, who are not easily deceived, and can
+have no motive or purpose to deceive. I hope that time and variety
+will dissipate the gloom that has so long surrounded me, and the
+latter part of my days will be spent in peace."
+
+"Your learning and virtue," said Imlac, "may justly give you
+hopes."
+
+Rasselas then entered, with the Princess and Pekuah, and inquired
+whether they had contrived any new diversion for the next day.
+"Such," said Nekayah, "is the state of life, that none are happy
+but by the anticipation of change; the change itself is nothing;
+when we have made it the next wish is to change again. The world
+is not yet exhausted: let me see something to-morrow which I never
+saw before."
+
+"Variety," said Rasselas, "is so necessary to content, that even
+the Happy Valley disgusted me by the recurrence of its luxuries;
+yet I could not forbear to reproach myself with impatience when I
+saw the monks of St. Anthony support, without complaint, a life,
+not of uniform delight, but uniform hardship."
+
+"Those men," answered Imlac, "are less wretched in their silent
+convent than the Abyssinian princes in their prison of pleasure.
+Whatever is done by the monks is incited by an adequate and
+reasonable motive. Their labour supplies them with necessaries; it
+therefore cannot be omitted, and is certainly rewarded. Their
+devotion prepares them for another state, and reminds them of its
+approach while it fits them for it. Their time is regularly
+distributed; one duty succeeds another, so that they are not left
+open to the distraction of unguided choice, nor lost in the shades
+of listless inactivity. There is a certain task to be performed at
+an appropriated hour, and their toils are cheerful, because they
+consider them as acts of piety by which they are always advancing
+towards endless felicity."
+
+"Do you think," said Nekayah, "that the monastic rule is a more
+holy and less imperfect state than any other? May not he equally
+hope for future happiness who converses openly with mankind, who
+succours the distressed by his charity, instructs the ignorant by
+his learning, and contributes by his industry to the general system
+of life, even though he should omit some of the mortifications
+which are practised in the cloister, and allow himself such
+harmless delights as his condition may place within his reach?"
+
+"This," said Imlac, "is a question which has long divided the wise
+and perplexed the good. I am afraid to decide on either part. He
+that lives well in the world is better than he that lives well in a
+monastery. But perhaps everyone is not able to stem the
+temptations of public life, and if he cannot conquer he may
+properly retreat. Some have little power to do good, and have
+likewise little strength to resist evil. Many are weary of the
+conflicts with adversity, and are willing to eject those passions
+which have long busied them in vain. And many are dismissed by age
+and diseases from the more laborious duties of society. In
+monasteries the weak and timorous may be happily sheltered, the
+weary may repose, and the penitent may meditate. Those retreats of
+prayer and contemplation have something so congenial to the mind of
+man, that perhaps there is scarcely one that does not purpose to
+close his life in pious abstraction, with a few associates serious
+as himself."
+
+"Such," said Pekuah, "has often been my wish, and I have heard the
+Princess declare that she should not willingly die in a crowd."
+
+"The liberty of using harmless pleasures," proceeded Imlac, "will
+not be disputed, but it is still to be examined what pleasures are
+harmless. The evil of any pleasure that Nekayah can image is not
+in the act itself but in its consequences. Pleasure in itself
+harmless may become mischievous by endearing to us a state which we
+know to be transient and probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts
+from that of which every hour brings us nearer to the beginning,
+and of which no length of time will bring us to the end.
+Mortification is not virtuous in itself, nor has any other use but
+that it disengages us from the allurements of sense. In the state
+of future perfection to which we all aspire there will be pleasure
+without danger and security without restraint."
+
+The Princess was silent, and Rasselas, turning to the astronomer,
+asked him whether he could not delay her retreat by showing her
+something which she had not seen before.
+
+"Your curiosity," said the sage, "has been so general, and your
+pursuit of knowledge so vigorous, that novelties are not now very
+easily to be found; but what you can no longer procure from the
+living may be given by the dead. Among the wonders of this country
+are the catacombs, or the ancient repositories in which the bodies
+of the earliest generations were lodged, and where, by the virtue
+of the gums which embalmed them, they yet remain without
+corruption."
+
+"I know not," said Rasselas, "what pleasure the sight of the
+catacombs can afford; but, since nothing else is offered, I am
+resolved to view them, and shall place this with my other things
+which I have done because I would do something."
+
+They hired a guard of horsemen, and the next day visited the
+catacombs. When they were about to descend into the sepulchral
+caves, "Pekuah," said the Princess, "we are now again invading the
+habitations of the dead; I know that you will stay behind. Let me
+find you safe when I return." "No, I will not be left," answered
+Pekuah, "I will go down between you and the Prince."
+
+They then all descended, and roved with wonder through the
+labyrinth of subterraneous passages, where the bodies were laid in
+rows on either side.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII--IMLAC DISCOURSES ON THE NATURE OF THE SOUL.
+
+
+
+"What reason," said the Prince, "can be given why the Egyptians
+should thus expensively preserve those carcases which some nations
+consume with fire, others lay to mingle with the earth, and all
+agree to remove from their sight as soon as decent rites can be
+performed?"
+
+"The original of ancient customs," said Imlac, "is commonly
+unknown, for the practice often continues when the cause has
+ceased; and concerning superstitious ceremonies it is vain to
+conjecture; for what reason did not dictate, reason cannot explain.
+I have long believed that the practice of embalming arose only from
+tenderness to the remains of relations or friends; and to this
+opinion I am more inclined because it seems impossible that this
+care should have been general; had all the dead been embalmed,
+their repositories must in time have been more spacious than the
+dwellings of the living. I suppose only the rich or honourable
+were secured from corruption, and the rest left to the course of
+nature.
+
+"But it is commonly supposed that the Egyptians believed the soul
+to live as long as the body continued undissolved, and therefore
+tried this method of eluding death."
+
+"Could the wise Egyptians," said Nekayah, "think so grossly of the
+soul? If the soul could once survive its separation, what could it
+afterwards receive or suffer from the body?"
+
+"The Egyptians would doubtless think erroneously," said the
+astronomer, "in the darkness of heathenism and the first dawn of
+philosophy. The nature of the soul is still disputed amidst all
+our opportunities of clearer knowledge; some yet say that it may be
+material, who, nevertheless, believe it to be immortal."
+
+"Some," answered Imlac, "have indeed said that the soul is
+material, but I can scarcely believe that any man has thought it
+who knew how to think; for all the conclusions of reason enforce
+the immateriality of mind, and all the notices of sense and
+investigations of science concur to prove the unconsciousness of
+matter.
+
+"It was never supposed that cogitation is inherent in matter, or
+that every particle is a thinking being. Yet if any part of matter
+be devoid of thought, what part can we suppose to think? Matter
+can differ from matter only in form, density, bulk, motion, and
+direction of motion. To which of these, however varied or
+combined, can consciousness be annexed? To be round or square, to
+be solid or fluid, to be great or little, to be moved slowly or
+swiftly, one way or another, are modes of material existence all
+equally alien from the nature of cogitation. If matter be once
+without thought, it can only be made to think by some new
+modification; but all the modifications which it can admit are
+equally unconnected with cogitative powers."
+
+"But the materialists," said the astronomer, "urge that matter may
+have qualities with which we are unacquainted."
+
+"He who will determine," returned Imlac, "against that which he
+knows because there may be something which he knows not; he that
+can set hypothetical possibility against acknowledged certainty, is
+not to be admitted among reasonable beings. All that we know of
+matter is, that matter is inert, senseless, and lifeless; and if
+this conviction cannot he opposed but by referring us to something
+that we know not, we have all the evidence that human intellect can
+admit. If that which is known may be overruled by that which is
+unknown, no being, not omniscient, can arrive at certainty."
+
+"Yet let us not," said the astronomer, "too arrogantly limit the
+Creator's power."
+
+"It is no limitation of Omnipotence," replied the poet, "to suppose
+that one thing is not consistent with another, that the same
+proposition cannot be at once true and false, that the same number
+cannot be even and odd, that cogitation cannot be conferred on that
+which is created incapable of cogitation."
+
+"I know not," said Nekayah, "any great use of this question. Does
+that immateriality, which in my opinion you have sufficiently
+proved, necessarily include eternal duration?"
+
+"Of immateriality," said Imlac, "our ideas are negative, and
+therefore obscure. Immateriality seems to imply a natural power of
+perpetual duration as a consequence of exemption from all causes of
+decay: whatever perishes is destroyed by the solution of its
+contexture and separation of its parts; nor can we conceive how
+that which has no parts, and therefore admits no solution, can be
+naturally corrupted or impaired."
+
+"I know not," said Rasselas, "how to conceive anything without
+extension: what is extended must have parts, and you allow that
+whatever has parts may be destroyed."
+
+"Consider your own conceptions," replied Imlac, "and the difficulty
+will be less. You will find substance without extension. An ideal
+form is no less real than material bulk; yet an ideal form has no
+extension. It is no less certain, when you think on a pyramid,
+that your mind possesses the idea of a pyramid, than that the
+pyramid itself is standing. What space does the idea of a pyramid
+occupy more than the idea of a grain of corn? or how can either
+idea suffer laceration? As is the effect, such is the cause; as
+thought, such is the power that thinks, a power impassive and
+indiscerptible."
+
+"But the Being," said Nekayah, "whom I fear to name, the Being
+which made the soul, can destroy it."
+
+"He surely can destroy it," answered Imlac, "since, however
+imperishable, it receives from a superior nature its power of
+duration. That it will not perish by any inherent cause of decay
+or principle of corruption, may be shown by philosophy; but
+philosophy can tell no more. That it will not be annihilated by
+Him that made it, we must humbly learn from higher authority."
+
+The whole assembly stood awhile silent and collected. "Let us
+return," said Rasselas, "from this scene of mortality. How gloomy
+would be these mansions of the dead to him who did not know that he
+should never die; that what now acts shall continue its agency, and
+what now thinks shall think on for ever. Those that lie here
+stretched before us, the wise and the powerful of ancient times,
+warn us to remember the shortness of our present state; they were
+perhaps snatched away while they were busy, like us, in the CHOICE
+OF LIFE."
+
+"To me," said the Princess, "the choice of life is become less
+important; I hope hereafter to think only on the choice of
+eternity."
+
+They then hastened out of the caverns, and under the protection of
+their guard returned to Cairo.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX--THE CONCLUSION, IN WHICH NOTHING IS CONCLUDED.
+
+
+
+It was now the time of the inundation of the Nile. A few days
+after their visit to the catacombs the river began to rise.
+
+They were confined to their house. The whole region being under
+water, gave them no invitation to any excursions; and being well
+supplied with materials for talk, they diverted themselves with
+comparisons of the different forms of life which they had observed,
+and with various schemes of happiness which each of them had
+formed.
+
+Pekuah was never so much charmed with any place as the Convent of
+St. Anthony, where the Arab restored her to the Princess, and
+wished only to fill it with pious maidens and to be made prioress
+of the order. She was weary of expectation and disgust, and would
+gladly be fixed in some unvariable state.
+
+The Princess thought that, of all sublunary things, knowledge was
+the best. She desired first to learn all sciences, and then
+proposed to found a college of learned women, in which she would
+preside, that, by conversing with the old and educating the young,
+she might divide her time between the acquisition and communication
+of wisdom, and raise up for the next age models of prudence and
+patterns of piety.
+
+The Prince desired a little kingdom in which he might administer
+justice in his own person and see all the parts of government with
+his own eyes; but he could never fix the limits of his dominion,
+and was always adding to the number of his subjects.
+
+Imlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along the
+stream of life without directing their course to any particular
+port.
+
+Of those wishes that they had formed they well knew that none could
+be obtained. They deliberated awhile what was to be done, and
+resolved, when the inundation should cease, to return to Abyssinia.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA ***
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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII">
+<title>Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia</title>
+</head>
+<body>
+<h2>
+<a href="#startoftext">Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia, by Samuel Johnson</a>
+</h2>
+<pre>
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia, by Samuel Johnson
+(#2 in our series by Samuel Johnson)
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
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+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia
+
+Author: Samuel Johnson
+
+Release Date: September, 1996 [EBook #652]
+[This file was first posted on September 17, 1996]
+[Most recently updated: September 8, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+</pre>
+<p>
+<a name="startoftext"></a>
+Transcribed from the 1889 Cassell &amp; Company edition by David Price,
+email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER I - DESCRIPTION OF A PALACE IN A VALLEY.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Ye who listen with credulity to the whispers of fancy, and pursue with
+eagerness the phantoms of hope; who expect that age will perform the
+promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will
+be supplied by the morrow, attend to the history of Rasselas, Prince
+of Abyssinia.<br>
+<br>
+Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty Emperor in whose dominions
+the father of waters begins his course - whose bounty pours down the
+streams of plenty, and scatters over the world the harvests of Egypt.<br>
+<br>
+According to the custom which has descended from age to age among the
+monarchs of the torrid zone, Rasselas was confined in a private palace,
+with the other sons and daughters of Abyssinian royalty, till the order
+of succession should call him to the throne.<br>
+<br>
+The place which the wisdom or policy of antiquity had destined for the
+residence of the Abyssinian princes was a spacious valley in the kingdom
+of Amhara, surrounded on every side by mountains, of which the summits
+overhang the middle part.&nbsp; The only passage by which it could be
+entered was a cavern that passed under a rock, of which it had long
+been disputed whether it was the work of nature or of human industry.&nbsp;
+The outlet of the cavern was concealed by a thick wood, and the mouth
+which opened into the valley was closed with gates of iron, forged by
+the artificers of ancient days, so massive that no man, without the
+help of engines, could open or shut them.<br>
+<br>
+From the mountains on every side rivulets descended that filled all
+the valley with verdure and fertility, and formed a lake in the middle,
+inhabited by fish of every species, and frequented by every fowl whom
+nature has taught to dip the wing in water.&nbsp; This lake discharged
+its superfluities by a stream, which entered a dark cleft of the mountain
+on the northern side, and fell with dreadful noise from precipice to
+precipice till it was heard no more.<br>
+<br>
+The sides of the mountains were covered with trees, the banks of the
+brooks were diversified with flowers; every blast shook spices from
+the rocks, and every month dropped fruits upon the ground.&nbsp; All
+animals that bite the grass or browse the shrubs, whether wild or tame,
+wandered in this extensive circuit, secured from beasts of prey by the
+mountains which confined them.&nbsp; On one part were flocks and herds
+feeding in the pastures, on another all the beasts of chase frisking
+in the lawns, the sprightly kid was bounding on the rocks, the subtle
+monkey frolicking in the trees, and the solemn elephant reposing in
+the shade.&nbsp; All the diversities of the world were brought together,
+the blessings of nature were collected, and its evils extracted and
+excluded.<br>
+<br>
+The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants with all the
+necessaries of life, and all delights and superfluities were added at
+the annual visit which the Emperor paid his children, when the iron
+gate was opened to the sound of music, and during eight days every one
+that resided in the valley was required to propose whatever might contribute
+to make seclusion pleasant, to fill up the vacancies of attention, and
+lessen the tediousness of time.&nbsp; Every desire was immediately granted.&nbsp;
+All the artificers of pleasure were called to gladden the festivity;
+the musicians exerted the power of harmony, and the dancers showed their
+activity before the princes, in hopes that they should pass their lives
+in blissful captivity, to which those only were admitted whose performance
+was thought able to add novelty to luxury.&nbsp; Such was the appearance
+of security and delight which this retirement afforded, that they to
+whom it was new always desired that it might be perpetual; and as those
+on whom the iron gate had once closed were never suffered to return,
+the effect of longer experience could not be known.&nbsp; Thus every
+year produced new scenes of delight, and new competitors for imprisonment.<br>
+<br>
+The palace stood on an eminence, raised about thirty paces above the
+surface of the lake.&nbsp; It was divided into many squares or courts,
+built with greater or less magnificence according to the rank of those
+for whom they were designed.&nbsp; The roofs were turned into arches
+of massive stone, joined by a cement that grew harder by time, and the
+building stood from century to century, deriding the solstitial rains
+and equinoctial hurricanes, without need of reparation.<br>
+<br>
+This house, which was so large as to be fully known to none but some
+ancient officers, who successively inherited the secrets of the place,
+was built as if Suspicion herself had dictated the plan.&nbsp; To every
+room there was an open and secret passage; every square had a communication
+with the rest, either from the upper storeys by private galleries, or
+by subterraneous passages from the lower apartments.&nbsp; Many of the
+columns had unsuspected cavities, in which a long race of monarchs had
+deposited their treasures.&nbsp; They then closed up the opening with
+marble, which was never to be removed but in the utmost exigences of
+the kingdom, and recorded their accumulations in a book, which was itself
+concealed in a tower, not entered but by the Emperor, attended by the
+prince who stood next in succession.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER II - THE DISCONTENT OF RASSELAS IN THE HAPPY VALLEY.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Here the sons and daughters of Abyssinia lived only to know the soft
+vicissitudes of pleasure and repose, attended by all that were skilful
+to delight, and gratified with whatever the senses can enjoy.&nbsp;
+They wandered in gardens of fragrance, and slept in the fortresses of
+security.&nbsp; Every art was practised to make them pleased with their
+own condition.&nbsp; The sages who instructed them told them of nothing
+but the miseries of public life, and described all beyond the mountains
+as regions of calamity, where discord was always racing, and where man
+preyed upon man.&nbsp; To heighten their opinion of their own felicity,
+they were daily entertained with songs, the subject of which was the
+Happy Valley.&nbsp; Their appetites were excited by frequent enumerations
+of different enjoyments, and revelry and merriment were the business
+of every hour, from the dawn of morning to the close of the evening.<br>
+<br>
+These methods were generally successful; few of the princes had ever
+wished to enlarge their bounds, but passed their lives in full conviction
+that they had all within their reach that art or nature could bestow,
+and pitied those whom nature had excluded from this seat of tranquillity
+as the sport of chance and the slaves of misery.<br>
+<br>
+Thus they rose in the morning and lay down at night, pleased with each
+other and with themselves, all but Rasselas, who, in the twenty-sixth
+year of his age, began to withdraw himself from the pastimes and assemblies,
+and to delight in solitary walks and silent meditation.&nbsp; He often
+sat before tables covered with luxury, and forgot to taste the dainties
+that were placed before him; he rose abruptly in the midst of the song,
+and hastily retired beyond the sound of music.&nbsp; His attendants
+observed the change, and endeavoured to renew his love of pleasure.&nbsp;
+He neglected their officiousness, repulsed their invitations, and spent
+day after day on the banks of rivulets sheltered with trees, where he
+sometimes listened to the birds in the branches, sometimes observed
+the fish playing in the streams, and anon cast his eyes upon the pastures
+and mountains filled with animals, of which some were biting the herbage,
+and some sleeping among the bushes.&nbsp; The singularity of his humour
+made him much observed.&nbsp; One of the sages, in whose conversation
+he had formerly delighted, followed him secretly, in hope of discovering
+the cause of his disquiet.&nbsp; Rasselas, who knew not that any one
+was near him, having for some time fixed his eyes upon the goats that
+were browsing among the rocks, began to compare their condition with
+his own.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;What,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;makes the difference between man
+and all the rest of the animal creation?&nbsp; Every beast that strays
+beside me has the same corporal necessities with myself: he is hungry,
+and crops the grass; he is thirsty, and drinks the stream; his thirst
+and hunger are appeased; he is satisfied, and sleeps; he rises again,
+and is hungry; he is again fed, and is at rest.&nbsp; I am hungry and
+thirsty, like him, but when thirst and hunger cease, I am not at rest.&nbsp;
+I am, like him, pained with want, but am not, like him, satisfied with
+fulness.&nbsp; The intermediate hours are tedious and gloomy; I long
+again to be hungry that I may again quicken the attention.&nbsp; The
+birds peck the berries or the corn, and fly away to the groves, where
+they sit in seeming happiness on the branches, and waste their lives
+in tuning one unvaried series of sounds.&nbsp; I likewise can call the
+lutist and the singer; but the sounds that pleased me yesterday weary
+me to-day, and will grow yet more wearisome to-morrow.&nbsp; I can discover
+in me no power of perception which is not glutted with its proper pleasure,
+yet I do not feel myself delighted.&nbsp; Man surely has some latent
+sense for which this place affords no gratification; or he has some
+desire distinct from sense, which must be satisfied before he can be
+happy.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+After this he lifted up his head, and seeing the moon rising, walked
+towards the palace.&nbsp; As he passed through the fields, and saw the
+animals around him, &ldquo;Ye,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;are happy, and
+need not envy me that walk thus among you, burdened with myself; nor
+do I, ye gentle beings, envy your felicity; for it is not the felicity
+of man.&nbsp; I have many distresses from which you are free; I fear
+pain when I do not feel it; I sometimes shrink at evils recollected,
+and sometimes start at evils anticipated: surely the equity of Providence
+has balanced peculiar sufferings with peculiar enjoyments.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+With observations like these the Prince amused himself as he returned,
+uttering them with a plaintive voice, yet with a look that discovered
+him to feel some complacence in his own perspicacity, and to receive
+some solace of the miseries of life from consciousness of the delicacy
+with which he felt and the eloquence with which he bewailed them.&nbsp;
+He mingled cheerfully in the diversions of the evening, and all rejoiced
+to find that his heart was lightened.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER III - THE WANTS OF HIM THAT WANTS NOTHING.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+On the next day, his old instructor, imagining that he had now made
+himself acquainted with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing it
+by counsel, and officiously sought an opportunity of conference, which
+the Prince, having long considered him as one whose intellects were
+exhausted, was not very willing to afford.&nbsp; &ldquo;Why,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;does this man thus intrude upon me?&nbsp; Shall I never
+be suffered to forget these lectures, which pleased only while they
+were new, and to become new again must be forgotten?&rdquo;&nbsp; He
+then walked into the wood, and composed himself to his usual meditations;
+when, before his thoughts had taken any settled form, he perceived his
+pursuer at his side, and was at first prompted by his impatience to
+go hastily away; but being unwilling to offend a man whom he had once
+reverenced and still loved, he invited him to sit down with him on the
+bank.<br>
+<br>
+The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change which had been
+lately observed in the Prince, and to inquire why he so often retired
+from the pleasures of the palace to loneliness and silence.&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+fly from pleasure,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;because pleasure has
+ceased to please: I am lonely because I am miserable, and am unwilling
+to cloud with my presence the happiness of others.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;You,
+sir,&rdquo; said the sage, &ldquo;are the first who has complained of
+misery in the Happy Valley.&nbsp; I hope to convince you that your complaints
+have no real cause.&nbsp; You are here in full possession of all the
+Emperor of Abyssinia can bestow; here is neither labour to be endured
+nor danger to be dreaded, yet here is all that labour or danger can
+procure or purchase.&nbsp; Look round and tell me which of your wants
+is without supply: if you want nothing, how are you unhappy?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;That I want nothing,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;or that I
+know not what I want, is the cause of my complaint: if I had any known
+want, I should have a certain wish; that wish would excite endeavour,
+and I should not then repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the
+western mountains, or to lament when the day breaks, and sleep will
+no longer hide me from myself.&nbsp; When I see the kids and the lambs
+chasing one another, I fancy that I should be happy if I had something
+to pursue.&nbsp; But, possessing all that I can want, I find one day
+and one hour exactly like another, except that the latter is still more
+tedious than the former.&nbsp; Let your experience inform me how the
+day may now seem as short as in my childhood, while nature was yet fresh,
+and every moment showed me what I never had observed before.&nbsp; I
+have already enjoyed too much: give me something to desire.&rdquo;&nbsp;
+The old man was surprised at this new species of affliction, and knew
+not what to reply, yet was unwilling to be silent.&nbsp; &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;if you had seen the miseries of the world, you would
+know how to value your present state.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Now,&rdquo;
+said the Prince, &ldquo;you have given me something to desire.&nbsp;
+I shall long to see the miseries of the world, since the sight of them
+is necessary to happiness.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER IV - THE PRINCE CONTINUES TO GRIEVE AND MUSE.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+At this time the sound of music proclaimed the hour of repast, and the
+conversation was concluded.&nbsp; The old man went away sufficiently
+discontented to find that his reasonings had produced the only conclusion
+which they were intended to prevent.&nbsp; But in the decline of life,
+shame and grief are of short duration: whether it be that we bear easily
+what we have borne long; or that, finding ourselves in age less regarded,
+we less regard others; or that we look with slight regard upon afflictions
+to which we know that the hand of death is about to put an end.<br>
+<br>
+The Prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could not speedily
+quiet his emotions.&nbsp; He had been before terrified at the length
+of life which nature promised him, because he considered that in a long
+time much must be endured: he now rejoiced in his youth, because in
+many years much might be done.&nbsp; The first beam of hope that had
+been ever darted into his mind rekindled youth in his cheeks, and doubled
+the lustre of his eyes.&nbsp; He was fired with the desire of doing
+something, though he knew not yet, with distinctness, either end or
+means.&nbsp; He was now no longer gloomy and unsocial; but considering
+himself as master of a secret stock of happiness, which he could only
+enjoy by concealing it, he affected to be busy in all the schemes of
+diversion, and endeavoured to make others pleased with the state of
+which he himself was weary.&nbsp; But pleasures can never be so multiplied
+or continued as not to leave much of life unemployed; there were many
+hours, both of the night and day, which he could spend without suspicion
+in solitary thought.&nbsp; The load of life was much lightened; he went
+eagerly into the assemblies, because he supposed the frequency of his
+presence necessary to the success of his purposes; he retired gladly
+to privacy, because he had now a subject of thought.&nbsp; His chief
+amusement was to picture to himself that world which he had never seen,
+to place himself in various conditions, to be entangled in imaginary
+difficulties, and to be engaged in wild adventures; but, his benevolence
+always terminated his projects in the relief of distress, the detection
+of fraud, the defeat of oppression, and the diffusion of happiness.<br>
+<br>
+Thus passed twenty months of the life of Rasselas.&nbsp; He busied himself
+so intensely in visionary bustle that he forgot his real solitude; and
+amidst hourly preparations for the various incidents of human affairs,
+neglected to consider by what means he should mingle with mankind.<br>
+<br>
+One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself an orphan
+virgin robbed of her little portion by a treacherous lover, and crying
+after him for restitution.&nbsp; So strongly was the image impressed
+upon his mind that he started up in the maid&rsquo;s defence, and ran
+forward to seize the plunderer with all the eagerness of real pursuit.&nbsp;
+Fear naturally quickens the flight of guilt.&nbsp; Rasselas could not
+catch the fugitive with his utmost efforts; but, resolving to weary
+by perseverance him whom he could not surpass in speed, he pressed on
+till the foot of the mountain stopped his course.<br>
+<br>
+Here he recollected himself, and smiled at his own useless impetuosity.&nbsp;
+Then raising his eyes to the mountain, &ldquo;This,&rdquo; said he,
+&ldquo;is the fatal obstacle that hinders at once the enjoyment of pleasure
+and the exercise of virtue.&nbsp; How long is it that my hopes and wishes
+have flown beyond this boundary of my life, which yet I never have attempted
+to surmount?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+Struck with this reflection, he sat down to muse, and remembered that
+since he first resolved to escape from his confinement, the sun had
+passed twice over him in his annual course.&nbsp; He now felt a degree
+of regret with which he had never been before acquainted.&nbsp; He considered
+how much might have been done in the time which had passed, and left
+nothing real behind it.&nbsp; He compared twenty months with the life
+of man.&nbsp; &ldquo;In life,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is not to be counted
+the ignorance of infancy or imbecility of age.&nbsp; We are long before
+we are able to think, and we soon cease from the power of acting.&nbsp;
+The true period of human existence may be reasonably estimated at forty
+years, of which I have mused away the four-and-twentieth part.&nbsp;
+What I have lost was certain, for I have certainly possessed it; but
+of twenty months to come, who can assure me?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The consciousness of his own folly pierced him deeply, and he was long
+before he could be reconciled to himself.&nbsp; &ldquo;The rest of my
+time,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;has been lost by the crime or folly of
+my ancestors, and the absurd institutions of my country; I remember
+it with disgust, yet without remorse: but the months that have passed
+since new light darted into my soul, since I formed a scheme of reasonable
+felicity, have been squandered by my own fault.&nbsp; I have lost that
+which can never be restored; I have seen the sun rise and set for twenty
+months, an idle gazer on the light of heaven; in this time the birds
+have left the nest of their mother, and committed themselves to the
+woods and to the skies; the kid has forsaken the teat, and learned by
+degrees to climb the rocks in quest of independent sustenance.&nbsp;
+I only have made no advances, but am still helpless and ignorant.&nbsp;
+The moon, by more than twenty changes, admonished me of the flux of
+life; the stream that rolled before my feet upbraided my inactivity.&nbsp;
+I sat feasting on intellectual luxury, regardless alike of the examples
+of the earth and the instructions of the planets.&nbsp; Twenty months
+are passed: who shall restore them?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+These sorrowful meditations fastened upon his mind; he passed four months
+in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves, and was awakened
+to more vigorous exertion by hearing a maid, who had broken a porcelain
+cup, remark that what cannot be repaired is not to be regretted.<br>
+<br>
+This was obvious; and Rasselas reproached himself that he had not discovered
+it - having not known, or not considered, how many useful hints are
+obtained by chance, and how often the mind, hurried by her own ardour
+to distant views, neglects the truths that lie open before her.&nbsp;
+He for a few hours regretted his regret, and from that time bent his
+whole mind upon the means of escaping from the Valley of Happiness.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER V - THE PRINCE MEDITATES HIS ESCAPE.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+He now found that it would be very difficult to effect that which it
+was very easy to suppose effected.&nbsp; When he looked round about
+him, he saw himself confined by the bars of nature, which had never
+yet been broken, and by the gate through which none that had once passed
+it were ever able to return.&nbsp; He was now impatient as an eagle
+in a grate.&nbsp; He passed week after week in clambering the mountains
+to see if there was any aperture which the bushes might conceal, but
+found all the summits inaccessible by their prominence.&nbsp; The iron
+gate he despaired to open for it was not only secured with all the power
+of art, but was always watched by successive sentinels, and was, by
+its position, exposed to the perpetual observation of all the inhabitants.<br>
+<br>
+He then examined the cavern through which the waters of the lake were
+discharged; and, looking down at a time when the sun shone strongly
+upon its mouth, he discovered it to be full of broken rocks, which,
+though they permitted the stream to flow through many narrow passages,
+would stop any body of solid bulk.&nbsp; He returned discouraged and
+dejected; but having now known the blessing of hope, resolved never
+to despair.<br>
+<br>
+In these fruitless researches he spent ten months.&nbsp; The time, however,
+passed cheerfully away - in the morning he rose with new hope; in the
+evening applauded his own diligence; and in the night slept soundly
+after his fatigue.&nbsp; He met a thousand amusements, which beguiled
+his labour and diversified his thoughts.&nbsp; He discerned the various
+instincts of animals and properties of plants, and found the place replete
+with wonders, of which he proposed to solace himself with the contemplation
+if he should never be able to accomplish his flight - rejoicing that
+his endeavours, though yet unsuccessful, had supplied him with a source
+of inexhaustible inquiry.&nbsp; But his original curiosity was not yet
+abated; he resolved to obtain some knowledge of the ways of men.&nbsp;
+His wish still continued, but his hope grew less.&nbsp; He ceased to
+survey any longer the walls of his prison, and spared to search by new
+toils for interstices which he knew could not be found, yet determined
+to keep his design always in view, and lay hold on any expedient that
+time should offer.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER VI - A DISSERTATION ON THE ART OF FLYING.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Among the artists that had been allured into the Happy Valley, to labour
+for the accommodation and pleasure of its inhabitants, was a man eminent
+for his knowledge of the mechanic powers, who had contrived many engines
+both of use and recreation.&nbsp; By a wheel which the stream turned
+he forced the water into a tower, whence it was distributed to all the
+apartments of the palace.&nbsp; He erected a pavilion in the garden,
+around which he kept the air always cool by artificial showers.&nbsp;
+One of the groves, appropriated to the ladies, was ventilated by fans,
+to which the rivulets that ran through it gave a constant motion; and
+instruments of soft music were played at proper distances, of which
+some played by the impulse of the wind, and some by the power of the
+stream.<br>
+<br>
+This artist was sometimes visited by Rasselas who was pleased with every
+kind of knowledge, imagining that the time would come when all his acquisitions
+should be of use to him in the open world.&nbsp; He came one day to
+amuse himself in his usual manner, and found the master busy in building
+a sailing chariot.&nbsp; He saw that the design was practicable upon
+a level surface, and with expressions of great esteem solicited its
+completion.&nbsp; The workman was pleased to find himself so much regarded
+by the Prince, and resolved to gain yet higher honours.&nbsp; &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;you have seen but a small part of what the mechanic
+sciences can perform.&nbsp; I have been long of opinion that, instead
+of the tardy conveyance of ships and chariots, man might use the swifter
+migration of wings, that the fields of air are open to knowledge, and
+that only ignorance and idleness need crawl upon the ground.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+This hint rekindled the Prince&rsquo;s desire of passing the mountains.&nbsp;
+Having seen what the mechanist had already performed, he was willing
+to fancy that he could do more, yet resolved to inquire further before
+he suffered hope to afflict him by disappointment.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am
+afraid,&rdquo; said he to the artist, &ldquo;that your imagination prevails
+over your skill, and that you now tell me rather what you wish than
+what you know.&nbsp; Every animal has his element assigned him; the
+birds have the air, and man and beasts the earth.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;So,&rdquo;
+replied the mechanist, &ldquo;fishes have the water, in which yet beasts
+can swim by nature and man by art.&nbsp; He that can swim needs not
+despair to fly; to swim is to fly in a grosser fluid, and to fly is
+to swim in a subtler.&nbsp; We are only to proportion our power of resistance
+to the different density of matter through which we are to pass.&nbsp;
+You will be necessarily up-borne by the air if you can renew any impulse
+upon it faster than the air can recede from the pressure.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;But the exercise of swimming,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;is
+very laborious; the strongest limbs are soon wearied.&nbsp; I am afraid
+the act of flying will be yet more violent; and wings will be of no
+great use unless we can fly further than we can swim.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The labour of rising from the ground,&rdquo; said the artist,
+&ldquo;will be great, as we see it in the heavier domestic fowls; but
+as we mount higher the earth&rsquo;s attraction and the body&rsquo;s
+gravity will be gradually diminished, till we shall arrive at a region
+where the man shall float in the air without any tendency to fall; no
+care will then be necessary but to move forward, which the gentlest
+impulse will effect.&nbsp; You, sir, whose curiosity is so extensive,
+will easily conceive with what pleasure a philosopher, furnished with
+wings and hovering in the sky, would see the earth and all its inhabitants
+rolling beneath him, and presenting to him successively, by its diurnal
+motion, all the countries within the same parallel.&nbsp; How must it
+amuse the pendent spectator to see the moving scene of land and ocean,
+cities and deserts; to survey with equal security the marts of trade
+and the fields of battle; mountains infested by barbarians, and fruitful
+regions gladdened by plenty and lulled by peace.&nbsp; How easily shall
+we then trace the Nile through all his passages, pass over to distant
+regions, and examine the face of nature from one extremity of the earth
+to the other.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;All this,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;is much to be desired,
+but I am afraid that no man will be able to breathe in these regions
+of speculation and tranquillity.&nbsp; I have been told that respiration
+is difficult upon lofty mountains, yet from these precipices, though
+so high as to produce great tenuity of air, it is very easy to fall;
+therefore I suspect that from any height where life can be supported,
+there may be danger of too quick descent.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; replied the artist, &ldquo;will ever be attempted
+if all possible objections must be first overcome.&nbsp; If you will
+favour my project, I will try the first flight at my own hazard.&nbsp;
+I have considered the structure of all volant animals, and find the
+folding continuity of the bat&rsquo;s wings most easily accommodated
+to the human form.&nbsp; Upon this model I shall begin my task to-morrow,
+and in a year expect to tower into the air beyond the malice and pursuit
+of man.&nbsp; But I will work only on this condition, that the art shall
+not be divulged, and that you shall not require me to make wings for
+any but ourselves.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;should you envy others so great
+an advantage?&nbsp; All skill ought to be exerted for universal good;
+every man has owed much to others, and ought to repay the kindness that
+he has received.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;If men were all virtuous,&rdquo; returned the artist, &ldquo;I
+should with great alacrity teach them to fly.&nbsp; But what would be
+the security of the good if the bad could at pleasure invade them from
+the sky?&nbsp; Against an army sailing through the clouds neither walls,
+mountains, nor seas could afford security.&nbsp; A flight of northern
+savages might hover in the wind and light with irresistible violence
+upon the capital of a fruitful reason.&nbsp; Even this valley, the retreat
+of princes, the abode of happiness, might be violated by the sudden
+descent of some of the naked nations that swarm on the coast of the
+southern sea!&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Prince promised secrecy, and waited for the performance, not wholly
+hopeless of success.&nbsp; He visited the work from time to time, observed
+its progress, and remarked many ingenious contrivances to facilitate
+motion and unite levity with strength.&nbsp; The artist was every day
+more certain that he should leave vultures and eagles behind him, and
+the contagion of his confidence seized upon the Prince.&nbsp; In a year
+the wings were finished; and on a morning appointed the maker appeared,
+furnished for flight, on a little promontory; he waved his pinions awhile
+to gather air, then leaped from his stand, and in an instant dropped
+into the lake.&nbsp; His wings, which were of no use in the air, sustained
+him in the water; and the Prince drew him to land half dead with terror
+and vexation.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER VII -&nbsp; THE PRINCE FINDS A MAN OF LEARNING.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The Prince was not much afflicted by this disaster, having suffered
+himself to hope for a happier event only because he had no other means
+of escape in view.&nbsp; He still persisted in his design to leave the
+Happy Valley by the first opportunity.<br>
+<br>
+His imagination was now at a stand; he had no prospect of entering into
+the world, and, notwithstanding all his endeavours to support himself,
+discontent by degrees preyed upon him, and he began again to lose his
+thoughts in sadness when the rainy season, which in these countries
+is periodical, made it inconvenient to wander in the woods.<br>
+<br>
+The rain continued longer and with more violence than had ever been
+known; the clouds broke on the surrounding mountains, and the torrents
+streamed into the plain on every side, till the cavern was too narrow
+to discharge the water.&nbsp; The lake overflowed its banks, and all
+the level of the valley was covered with the inundation.&nbsp; The eminence
+on which the palace was built, and some other spots of rising ground,
+were all that the eye could now discover.&nbsp; The herds and flocks
+left the pasture, and both the wild beasts and the tame retreated to
+the mountains.<br>
+<br>
+This inundation confined all the princes to domestic amusements, and
+the attention of Rasselas was particularly seized by a poem (which Imlac
+rehearsed) upon the various conditions of humanity.&nbsp; He commanded
+the poet to attend him in his apartment, and recite his verses a second
+time; then entering into familiar talk, he thought himself happy in
+having found a man who knew the world so well, and could so skilfully
+paint the scenes of life.&nbsp; He asked a thousand questions about
+things to which, though common to all other mortals, his confinement
+from childhood had kept him a stranger.&nbsp; The poet pitied his ignorance,
+and loved his curiosity, and entertained him from day to day with novelty
+and instruction so that the Prince regretted the necessity of sleep,
+and longed till the morning should renew his pleasure.<br>
+<br>
+As they were sitting together, the Prince commanded Imlac to relate
+his history, and to tell by what accident he was forced, or by what
+motive induced, to close his life in the Happy Valley.&nbsp; As he was
+going to begin his narrative, Rasselas was called to a concert, and
+obliged to restrain his curiosity till the evening.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER VIII - THE HISTORY OF IMLAC.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The close of the day is, in the regions of the torrid zone, the only
+season of diversion and entertainment, and it was therefore midnight
+before the music ceased and the princesses retired.&nbsp; Rasselas then
+called for his companion, and required him to begin the story of his
+life.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;my history will not be long: the
+life that is devoted to knowledge passes silently away, and is very
+little diversified by events.&nbsp; To talk in public, to think in solitude,
+to read and to hear, to inquire and answer inquiries, is the business
+of a scholar.&nbsp; He wanders about the world without pomp or terror,
+and is neither known nor valued but by men like himself.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I was born in the kingdom of Goiama, at no great distance from
+the fountain of the Nile.&nbsp; My father was a wealthy merchant, who
+traded between the inland countries of Africa and the ports of the Red
+Sea.&nbsp; He was honest, frugal, and diligent, but of mean sentiments
+and narrow comprehension; he desired only to be rich, and to conceal
+his riches, lest he should be spoiled by the governors of the province.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;my father must be negligent
+of his charge if any man in his dominions dares take that which belongs
+to another.&nbsp; Does he not know that kings are accountable for injustice
+permitted as well as done?&nbsp; If I were Emperor, not the meanest
+of my subjects should he oppressed with impunity.&nbsp; My blood boils
+when I am told that a merchant durst not enjoy his honest gains for
+fear of losing them by the rapacity of power.&nbsp; Name the governor
+who robbed the people that I may declare his crimes to the Emperor!&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;your ardour is the natural effect
+of virtue animated by youth.&nbsp; The time will come when you will
+acquit your father, and perhaps hear with less impatience of the governor.&nbsp;
+Oppression is, in the Abyssinian dominions, neither frequent nor tolerated;
+but no form of government has been yet discovered by which cruelty can
+be wholly prevented.&nbsp; Subordination supposes power on one part
+and subjection on the other; and if power be in the hands of men it
+will sometimes be abused.&nbsp; The vigilance of the supreme magistrate
+may do much, but much will still remain undone.&nbsp; He can never know
+all the crimes that are committed, and can seldom punish all that he
+knows.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;I do not understand; but
+I had rather hear thee than dispute.&nbsp; Continue thy narration.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;My father,&rdquo; proceeded Imlac, &ldquo;originally intended
+that I should have no other education than such as might qualify me
+for commerce; and discovering in me great strength of memory and quickness
+of apprehension, often declared his hope that I should be some time
+the richest man in Abyssinia.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;did thy father desire the
+increase of his wealth when it was already greater than he durst discover
+or enjoy?&nbsp; I am unwilling to doubt thy veracity, yet inconsistencies
+cannot both be true.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Inconsistencies,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;cannot both be
+right; but, imputed to man, they may both be true.&nbsp; Yet diversity
+is not inconsistency.&nbsp; My father might expect a time of greater
+security.&nbsp; However, some desire is necessary to keep life in motion;
+and he whose real wants are supplied must admit those of fancy.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;I can in some measure conceive.&nbsp;
+I repent that I interrupted thee.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;With this hope,&rdquo; proceeded Imlac, &ldquo;he sent me to
+school.&nbsp; But when I had once found the delight of knowledge, and
+felt the pleasure of intelligence and the pride of invention, I began
+silently to despise riches, and determined to disappoint the purposes
+of my father, whose grossness of conception raised my pity.&nbsp; I
+was twenty years old before his tenderness would expose me to the fatigue
+of travel; in which time I had been instructed, by successive masters,
+in all the literature of my native country.&nbsp; As every hour taught
+me something new, I lived in a continual course of gratification; but
+as I advanced towards manhood, I lost much of the reverence with which
+I had been used to look on my instructors; because when the lessons
+were ended I did not find them wiser or better than common men.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;At length my father resolved to initiate me in commerce; and,
+opening one of his subterranean treasuries, counted out ten thousand
+pieces of gold.&nbsp; &lsquo;This, young man,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;is
+the stock with which you must negotiate.&nbsp; I began with less than
+a fifth part, and you see how diligence and parsimony have increased
+it.&nbsp; This is your own, to waste or improve.&nbsp; If you squander
+it by negligence or caprice, you must wait for my death before you will
+be rich; if in four years you double your stock, we will thenceforward
+let subordination cease, and live together as friends and partners,
+for he shall be always equal with me who is equally skilled in the art
+of growing rich.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;We laid out our money upon camels, concealed in bales of cheap
+goods, and travelled to the shore of the Red Sea.&nbsp; When I cast
+my eye on the expanse of waters, my heart bounded like that of a prisoner
+escaped.&nbsp; I felt an inextinguishable curiosity kindle in my mind,
+and resolved to snatch this opportunity of seeing the manners of other
+nations, and of learning sciences unknown in Abyssinia.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I remembered that my father had obliged me to the improvement
+of my stock, not by a promise, which I ought not to violate, but by
+a penalty, which I was at liberty to incur; and therefore determined
+to gratify my predominant desire, and, by drinking at the fountain of
+knowledge, to quench the thirst of curiosity.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;As I was supposed to trade without connection with my father,
+it was easy for me to become acquainted with the master of a ship, and
+procure a passage to some other country.&nbsp; I had no motives of choice
+to regulate my voyage.&nbsp; It was sufficient for me that, wherever
+I wandered, I should see a country which I had not seen before.&nbsp;
+I therefore entered a ship bound for Surat, having left a letter for
+my father declaring my intention.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER IX - THE HISTORY OF IMLAC (<i>continued</i>).<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;When I first entered upon the world of waters, and lost sight
+of land, I looked round about me in pleasing terror, and thinking my
+soul enlarged by the boundless prospect, imagined that I could gaze
+around me for ever without satiety; but in a short time I grew weary
+of looking on barren uniformity, where I could only see again what I
+had already seen.&nbsp; I then descended into the ship, and doubted
+for awhile whether all my future pleasures would not end, like this,
+in disgust and disappointment.&nbsp; &lsquo;Yet surely,&rsquo; said
+I, &lsquo;the ocean and the land are very different.&nbsp; The only
+variety of water is rest and motion.&nbsp; But the earth has mountains
+and valleys, deserts and cities; it is inhabited by men of different
+customs and contrary opinions; and I may hope to find variety in life,
+though I should miss it in nature.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;With this thought I quieted my mind, and amused myself during
+the voyage, sometimes by learning from the sailors the art of navigation,
+which I have never practised, and sometimes by forming schemes for my
+conduct in different situations, in not one of which I have been ever
+placed.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I was almost weary of my naval amusements when we safely landed
+at Surat.&nbsp; I secured my money and, purchasing some commodities
+for show, joined myself to a caravan that was passing into the inland
+country.&nbsp; My companions, for some reason or other, conjecturing
+that I was rich, and, by my inquiries and admiration, finding that I
+was ignorant, considered me as a novice whom they had a right to cheat,
+and who was to learn, at the usual expense, the art of fraud.&nbsp;
+They exposed me to the theft of servants and the exaction of officers,
+and saw me plundered upon false pretences, without any advantage to
+themselves but that of rejoicing in the superiority of their own knowledge.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Stop a moment,&rdquo; said the Prince; &ldquo;is there such depravity
+in man as that he should injure another without benefit to himself?&nbsp;
+I can easily conceive that all are pleased with superiority; but your
+ignorance was merely accidental, which, being neither your crime nor
+your folly, could afford them no reason to applaud themselves; and the
+knowledge which they had, and which you wanted, they might as effectually
+have shown by warning as betraying you.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Pride,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is seldom delicate; it will
+please itself with very mean advantages, and envy feels not its own
+happiness but when it may be compared with the misery of others.&nbsp;
+They were my enemies because they grieved to think me rich, and my oppressors
+because they delighted to find me weak.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Proceed,&rdquo; said the Prince; &ldquo;I doubt not of the facts
+which you relate, but imagine that you impute them to mistaken motives.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;In this company,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;I arrived at Agra,
+the capital of Hindostan, the city in which the Great Mogul commonly
+resides.&nbsp; I applied myself to the language of the country, and
+in a few months was able to converse with the learned men; some of whom
+I found morose and reserved, and others easy and communicative; some
+were unwilling to teach another what they had with difficulty learned
+themselves; and some showed that the end of their studies was to gain
+the dignity of instructing.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;To the tutor of the young princes I recommended myself so much
+that I was presented to the Emperor as a man of uncommon knowledge.&nbsp;
+The Emperor asked me many questions concerning my country and my travels,
+and though I cannot now recollect anything that he uttered above the
+power of a common man, he dismissed me astonished at his wisdom and
+enamoured of his goodness.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;My credit was now so high that the merchants with whom I had
+travelled applied to me for recommendations to the ladies of the Court.&nbsp;
+I was surprised at their confidence of solicitation and greatly reproached
+them with their practices on the road.&nbsp; They heard me with cold
+indifference, and showed no tokens of shame or sorrow.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;They then urged their request with the offer of a bribe, but
+what I would not do for kindness I would not do for money, and refused
+them, not because they had injured me, but because I would not enable
+them to injure others; for I knew they would have made use of my credit
+to cheat those who should buy their wares.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Having resided at Agra till there was no more to be learned,
+I travelled into Persia, where I saw many remains of ancient magnificence
+and observed many new accommodations of life.&nbsp; The Persians are
+a nation eminently social, and their assemblies afforded me daily opportunities
+of remarking characters and manners, and of tracing human nature through
+all its variations.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;From Persia I passed into Arabia, where I saw a nation pastoral
+and warlike, who lived without any settled habitation, whose wealth
+is their flocks and herds, and who have carried on through ages an hereditary
+war with mankind, though they neither covet nor envy their possessions.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER X - IMLAC&rsquo;S HISTORY (<i>continued</i>) - A DISSERTATION
+UPON POETRY.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Wherever I went I found that poetry was considered as the highest
+learning, and regarded with a veneration somewhat approaching to that
+which man would pay to angelic nature.&nbsp; And yet it fills me with
+wonder that in almost all countries the most ancient poets are considered
+as the best; whether it be that every other kind of knowledge is an
+acquisition greatly attained, and poetry is a gift conferred at once;
+or that the first poetry of every nation surprised them as a novelty,
+and retained the credit by consent which it received by accident at
+first; or whether, as the province of poetry is to describe nature and
+passion, which are always the same, the first writers took possession
+of the most striking objects for description and the most probable occurrences
+for fiction, and left nothing to those that followed them but transcription
+of the same events and new combinations of the same images.&nbsp; Whatever
+be the reason, it is commonly observed that the early writers are in
+possession of nature, and their followers of art; that the first excel
+in strength and invention, and the latter in elegance and refinement.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I was desirous to add my name to this illustrious fraternity.&nbsp;
+I read all the poets of Persia and Arabia, and was able to repeat by
+memory the volumes that are suspended in the mosque of Mecca.&nbsp;
+But I soon found that no man was ever great by imitations.&nbsp; My
+desire of excellence impelled me to transfer my attention to nature
+and to life.&nbsp; Nature was to be my subject, and men to be my auditors.&nbsp;
+I could never describe what I had not seen.&nbsp; I could not hope to
+move those with delight or terror whose interests and opinions I did
+not understand.<br>
+<br>
+Being now resolved to be a poet, I saw everything with a new purpose;
+my sphere of attention was suddenly magnified; no kind of knowledge
+was to be overlooked.&nbsp; I ranged mountains and deserts for images
+and resemblances, and pictured upon my mind every tree of the forest
+and flower of the valley.&nbsp; I observed with equal care the crags
+of the rock and the pinnacles of the palace.&nbsp; Sometimes I wandered
+along the mazes of the rivulet, and sometimes watched the changes of
+the summer clouds.&nbsp; To a poet nothing can be useless.&nbsp; Whatever
+is beautiful and whatever is dreadful must be familiar to his imagination;
+he must be conversant with all that is awfully vast or elegantly little.&nbsp;
+The plants of the garden, the animals of the wood, the minerals of the
+earth, and meteors of the sky, must all concur to store his mind with
+inexhaustible variety; for every idea is useful for the enforcement
+or decoration of moral or religious truth, and he who knows most will
+have most power of diversifying his scenes and of gratifying his reader
+with remote allusions and unexpected instruction.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;All the appearances of nature I was therefore careful to study,
+and every country which I have surveyed has contributed something to
+my poetical powers.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;In so wide a survey,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;you must
+surely have left much unobserved.&nbsp; I have lived till now within
+the circuit of the mountains, and yet cannot walk abroad without the
+sight of something which I had never beheld before, or never heeded.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;This business of a poet,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is to examine,
+not the individual, but the species; to remark general properties and
+large appearances.&nbsp; He does not number the streaks of the tulip,
+or describe the different shades of the verdure of the forest.&nbsp;
+He is to exhibit in his portraits of nature such prominent and striking
+features as recall the original to every mind, and must neglect the
+minuter discriminations, which one may have remarked and another have
+neglected, for those characteristics which are alike obvious to vigilance
+and carelessness.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;But the knowledge of nature is only half the task of a poet;
+he must be acquainted likewise with all the modes of life.&nbsp; His
+character requires that he estimate the happiness and misery of every
+condition, observe the power of all the passions in all their combinations,
+and trace the changes of the human mind, as they are modified by various
+institutions and accidental influences of climate or custom, from the
+sprightliness of infancy to the despondence of decrepitude.&nbsp; He
+must divest himself of the prejudices of his age and country; he must
+consider right and wrong in their abstracted and invariable state; he
+must disregard present laws and opinions, and rise to general and transcendental
+truths, which will always be the same.&nbsp; He must, therefore, content
+himself with the slow progress of his name, contemn the praise of his
+own time, and commit his claims to the justice of posterity.&nbsp; He
+must write as the interpreter of nature and the legislator of mankind,
+and consider himself as presiding over the thoughts and manners of future
+generations, as a being superior to time and place.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;His labour is not yet at an end.&nbsp; He must know many languages
+and many sciences, and, that his style may be worthy of his thoughts,
+must by incessant practice familiarise to himself every delicacy of
+speech and grace of harmony.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XI - IMLAC&rsquo;S NARRATIVE (<i>continued</i>) - A HINT OF
+PILGRIMAGE.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Imlac now felt the enthusiastic fit, and was proceeding to aggrandise
+his own profession, when then Prince cried out: &ldquo;Enough! thou
+hast convinced me that no human being can ever be a poet.&nbsp; Proceed
+with thy narration.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;To be a poet,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is indeed very difficult.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;So difficult,&rdquo; returned the Prince, &ldquo;that I will
+at present hear no more of his labours.&nbsp; Tell me whither you went
+when you had seen Persia.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;From Persia,&rdquo; said the poet, &ldquo;I travelled through
+Syria, and for three years resided in Palestine, where I conversed with
+great numbers of the northern and western nations of Europe, the nations
+which are now in possession of all power and all knowledge, whose armies
+are irresistible, and whose fleets command the remotest parts of the
+globe.&nbsp; When I compared these men with the natives of our own kingdom
+and those that surround us, they appeared almost another order of beings.&nbsp;
+In their countries it is difficult to wish for anything that may not
+be obtained; a thousand arts, of which we never heard, are continually
+labouring for their convenience and pleasure, and whatever their own
+climate has denied them is supplied by their commerce.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;By what means,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;are the Europeans
+thus powerful? or why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa
+for trade or conquest, cannot the Asiatics and Africans invade their
+coast, plant colonies in their ports, and give laws to their natural
+princes?&nbsp; The same wind that carries them back would bring us thither.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;They are more powerful, sir, than we,&rdquo; answered Imlac,
+&ldquo;because they are wiser; knowledge will always predominate over
+ignorance, as man governs the other animals.&nbsp; But why their knowledge
+is more than ours I know not what reason can be given but the unsearchable
+will of the Supreme Being.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;When,&rdquo; said the Prince with a sigh, &ldquo;shall I be able
+to visit Palestine, and mingle with this mighty confluence of nations?&nbsp;
+Till that happy moment shall arrive, let me fill up the time with such
+representations as thou canst give me.&nbsp; I am not ignorant of the
+motive that assembles such numbers in that place, and cannot but consider
+it as the centre of wisdom and piety, to which the best and wisest men
+of every land must be continually resorting.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;There are some nations,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;that send few
+visitants to Palestine; for many numerous and learned sects in Europe
+concur to censure pilgrimage as superstitious, or deride it as ridiculous.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;You know,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;how little my life has
+made me acquainted with diversity of opinions; it will be too long to
+hear the arguments on both sides; you, that have considered them, tell
+me the result.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Pilgrimage,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;like many other acts of
+piety, may be reasonable or superstitious, according to the principles
+upon which it is performed.&nbsp; Long journeys in search of truth are
+not commanded.&nbsp; Truth, such as is necessary to the regulation of
+life, is always found where it is honestly sought.&nbsp; Change of place
+is no natural cause of the increase of piety, for it inevitably produces
+dissipation of mind.&nbsp; Yet, since men go every day to view the fields
+where great actions have been performed, and return with stronger impressions
+of the event, curiosity of the same kind may naturally dispose us to
+view that country whence our religion had its beginning, and I believe
+no man surveys those awful scenes without some confirmation of holy
+resolutions.&nbsp; That the Supreme Being may be more easily propitiated
+in one place than in another is the dream of idle superstition, but
+that some places may operate upon our own minds in an uncommon manner
+is an opinion which hourly experience will justify.&nbsp; He who supposes
+that his vices may be more successfully combated in Palestine, will
+perhaps find himself mistaken; yet he may go thither without folly;
+he who thinks they will be more freely pardoned, dishonours at once
+his reason and religion.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;These,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;are European distinctions.&nbsp;
+I will consider them another time.&nbsp; What have you found to be the
+effect of knowledge?&nbsp; Are those nations happier than we?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;There is so much infelicity,&rdquo; said the poet, &ldquo;in
+the world, that scarce any man has leisure from his own distresses to
+estimate the comparative happiness of others.&nbsp; Knowledge is certainly
+one of the means of pleasure, as is confessed by the natural desire
+which every mind feels of increasing its ideas.&nbsp; Ignorance is mere
+privation, by which nothing can be produced; it is a vacuity in which
+the soul sits motionless and torpid for want of attraction, and, without
+knowing why, we always rejoice when we learn, and grieve when we forget.&nbsp;
+I am therefore inclined to conclude that if nothing counteracts the
+natural consequence of learning, we grow more happy as out minds take
+a wider range.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;In enumerating the particular comforts of life, we shall find
+many advantages on the side of the Europeans.&nbsp; They cure wounds
+and diseases with which we languish and perish.&nbsp; We suffer inclemencies
+of weather which they can obviate.&nbsp; They have engines for the despatch
+of many laborious works, which we must perform by manual industry.&nbsp;
+There is such communication between distant places that one friend can
+hardly be said to be absent from another.&nbsp; Their policy removes
+all public inconveniences; they have roads cut through the mountains,
+and bridges laid over their rivers.&nbsp; And, if we descend to the
+privacies of life, their habitations are more commodious and their possessions
+are more secure.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;They are surely happy,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;who have
+all these conveniences, of which I envy none so much as the facility
+with which separated friends interchange their thoughts.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The Europeans,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;are less unhappy
+than we, but they are not happy.&nbsp; Human life is everywhere a state
+in which much is to be endured and little to be enjoyed.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XII - THE STORY OF IMLAC (<i>continued</i>).<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I am not willing,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;to suppose that
+happiness is so parsimoniously distributed to mortals, nor can I believe
+but that, if I had the choice of life, I should be able to fill every
+day with pleasure.&nbsp; I would injure no man, and should provoke no
+resentments; I would relieve every distress, and should enjoy the benedictions
+of gratitude.&nbsp; I would choose my friends among the wise and my
+wife among the virtuous, and therefore should be in no danger from treachery
+or unkindness.&nbsp; My children should by my care be learned and pious,
+and would repay to my age what their childhood had received.&nbsp; What
+would dare to molest him who might call on every side to thousands enriched
+by his bounty or assisted by his power?&nbsp; And why should not life
+glide away in the soft reciprocation of protection and reverence?&nbsp;
+All this may be done without the help of European refinements, which
+appear by their effects to be rather specious than useful.&nbsp; Let
+us leave them and pursue our journey.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;From Palestine,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;I passed through many
+regions of Asia; in the more civilised kingdoms as a trader, and among
+the barbarians of the mountains as a pilgrim.&nbsp; At last I began
+to long for my native country, that I might repose after my travels
+and fatigues in the places where I had spent my earliest years, and
+gladden my old companions with the recital of my adventures.&nbsp; Often
+did I figure to myself those with whom I had sported away the gay hours
+of dawning life, sitting round me in its evening, wondering at my tales
+and listening to my counsels.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;When this thought had taken possession of my mind, I considered
+every moment as wasted which did not bring me nearer to Abyssinia.&nbsp;
+I hastened into Egypt, and, notwithstanding my impatience, was detained
+ten months in the contemplation of its ancient magnificence and in inquiries
+after the remains of its ancient learning.&nbsp; I found in Cairo a
+mixture of all nations: some brought thither by the love of knowledge,
+some by the hope of gain; many by the desire of living after their own
+manner without observation, and of lying hid in the obscurity of multitudes;
+for in a city populous as Cairo it is possible to obtain at the same
+time the gratifications of society and the secrecy of solitude.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;From Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked on the Red Sea,
+passing along the coast till I arrived at the port from which I had
+departed twenty years before.&nbsp; Here I joined myself to a caravan,
+and re-entered my native country.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen and the congratulations
+of my friends, and was not without hope that my father, whatever value
+he had set upon riches, would own with gladness and pride a son who
+was able to add to the felicity and honour of the nation.&nbsp; But
+I was soon convinced that my thoughts were vain.&nbsp; My father had
+been dead fourteen years, having divided his wealth among my brothers,
+who were removed to some other provinces.&nbsp; Of my companions, the
+greater part was in the grave; of the rest, some could with difficulty
+remember me, and some considered me as one corrupted by foreign manners.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;A man used to vicissitudes is not easily dejected.&nbsp; I forgot,
+after a time, my disappointment, and endeavoured to recommend myself
+to the nobles of the kingdom; they admitted me to their tables, heard
+my story, and dismissed me.&nbsp; I opened a school, and was prohibited
+to teach.&nbsp; I then resolved to sit down in the quiet of domestic
+life, and addressed a lady that was fond of my conversation, but rejected
+my suit because my father was a merchant.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Wearied at last with solicitation and repulses, I resolved to
+hide myself for ever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion
+or caprice of others.&nbsp; I waited for the time when the gate of the
+Happy Valley should open, that I might bid farewell to hope and fear;
+the day came, my performance was distinguished with favour, and I resigned
+myself with joy to perpetual confinement.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Hast thou here found happiness at last?&rdquo; said Rasselas.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Tell me, without reserve, art thou content with thy condition,
+or dost thou wish to be again wandering and inquiring?&nbsp; All the
+inhabitants of this valley celebrate their lot, and at the annual visit
+of the Emperor invite others to partake of their felicity.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Great Prince,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;I shall speak the truth.&nbsp;
+I know not one of all your attendants who does not lament the hour when
+he entered this retreat.&nbsp; I am less unhappy than the rest, because
+I have a mind replete with images, which I can vary and combine at pleasure.&nbsp;
+I can amuse my solitude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins
+to fade from my memory, and by recollection of the accidents of my past
+life.&nbsp; Yet all this ends in the sorrowful consideration that my
+acquirements are now useless, and that none of my pleasures can be again
+enjoyed.&nbsp; The rest, whose minds have no impression but of the present
+moment, are either corroded by malignant passions or sit stupid in the
+gloom of perpetual vacancy.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;What passions can infest those,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;who
+have no rivals?&nbsp; We are in a place where impotence precludes malice,
+and where all envy is repressed by community of enjoyments.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;There may be community,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;of material
+possessions, but there can never be community of love or of esteem.&nbsp;
+It must happen that one will please more than another; he that knows
+himself despised will always be envious, and still more envious and
+malevolent if he is condemned to live in the presence of those who despise
+him.&nbsp; The invitations by which they allure others to a state which
+they feel to be wretched, proceed from the natural malignity of hopeless
+misery.&nbsp; They are weary of themselves and of each other, and expect
+to find relief in new companions.&nbsp; They envy the liberty which
+their folly has forfeited, and would gladly see all mankind imprisoned
+like themselves.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;From this crime, however, I am wholly free.&nbsp; No man can
+say that he is wretched by my persuasion.&nbsp; I look with pity on
+the crowds who are annually soliciting admission to captivity, and wish
+that it were lawful for me to warn them of their danger.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;My dear Imlac,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;I will open to
+thee my whole heart.&nbsp; I have long meditated an escape from the
+Happy Valley.&nbsp; I have examined the mountain on every side, but
+find myself insuperably barred - teach me the way to break my prison;
+thou shalt be the companion of my flight, the guide of my rambles, the
+partner of my fortune, and my sole director in the <i>choice of life.<br>
+<br>
+</i>&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; answered the poet, &ldquo;your escape will be
+difficult, and perhaps you may soon repent your curiosity.&nbsp; The
+world, which you figure to yourself smooth and quiet as the lake in
+the valley, you will find a sea foaming with tempests and boiling with
+whirlpools; you will be sometimes overwhelmed by the waves of violence,
+and sometimes dashed against the rocks of treachery.&nbsp; Amidst wrongs
+and frauds, competitions and anxieties, you will wish a thousand times
+for these seats of quiet, and willingly quit hope to be free from fear.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Do not seek to deter me from my purpose,&rdquo; said the Prince.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;I am impatient to see what thou hast seen; and since thou art
+thyself weary of the valley, it is evident that thy former state was
+better than this.&nbsp; Whatever be the consequence of my experiment,
+I am resolved to judge with mine own eyes of the various conditions
+of men, and then to make deliberately my <i>choice of life</i>.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;you are hindered by stronger
+restraints than my persuasions; yet, if your determination is fixed,
+I do not counsel you to despair.&nbsp; Few things are impossible to
+diligence and skill.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XIII - RASSELAS DISCOVERS THE MEANS OF ESCAPE.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The Prince now dismissed his favourite to rest; but the narrative of
+wonders and novelties filled his mind with perturbation.&nbsp; He revolved
+all that he had heard, and prepared innumerable questions for the morning.<br>
+<br>
+Much of his uneasiness was now removed.&nbsp; He had a friend to whom
+he could impart his thoughts, and whose experience could assist him
+in his designs.&nbsp; His heart was no longer condemned to swell with
+silent vexation.&nbsp; He thought that even the Happy Valley might be
+endured with such a companion, and that if they could range the world
+together he should have nothing further to desire.<br>
+<br>
+In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground dried.&nbsp;
+The Prince and Imlac then walked out together, to converse without the
+notice of the rest.&nbsp; The Prince, whose thoughts were always on
+the wing, as he passed by the gate said, with a countenance of sorrow,
+&ldquo;Why art thou so strong, and why is man so weak?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Man is not weak,&rdquo; answered his companion; &ldquo;knowledge
+is more than equivalent to force.&nbsp; The master of mechanics laughs
+at strength.&nbsp; I can burst the gate, but cannot do it secretly.&nbsp;
+Some other expedient must be tried.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;As they were walking on the side of the mountain they observed
+that the coneys, which the rain had driven from their burrows, had taken
+shelter among the bushes, and formed holes behind them tending upwards
+in an oblique line.&nbsp; &ldquo;It has been the opinion of antiquity,&rdquo;
+said Imlac, &ldquo;that human reason borrowed many arts from the instinct
+of animals; let us, therefore, not think ourselves degraded by learning
+from the coney.&nbsp; We may escape by piercing the mountain in the
+same direction.&nbsp; We will begin where the summit hangs over the
+middle part, and labour upward till we shall issue out beyond the prominence.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The eyes of the Prince, when he heard this proposal, sparkled with joy.&nbsp;
+The execution was easy and the success certain.<br>
+<br>
+No time was now lost.&nbsp; They hastened early in the morning to choose
+a place proper for their mine.&nbsp; They clambered with great fatigue
+among crags and brambles, and returned without having discovered any
+part that favoured their design.&nbsp; The second and the third day
+were spent in the same manner, and with the same frustration; but on
+the fourth day they found a small cavern concealed by a thicket, where
+they resolved to make their experiment.<br>
+<br>
+Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and remove earth, and
+they fell to their work on the next day with more eagerness than vigour.&nbsp;
+They were presently exhausted by their efforts, and sat down to pant
+upon the grass.&nbsp; The Prince for a moment appeared to be discouraged.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said his companion, &ldquo;practice will enable us
+to continue our labour for a longer time.&nbsp; Mark, however, how far
+we have advanced, and ye will find that our toil will some time have
+an end.&nbsp; Great works are performed not by strength, but perseverance;
+yonder palace was raised by single stones, yet you see its height and
+spaciousness.&nbsp; He that shall walk with vigour three hours a day,
+will pass in seven years a space equal to the circumference of the globe.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+They returned to their work day after day, and in a short time found
+a fissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with very little
+obstruction.&nbsp; This Rasselas considered as a good omen.&nbsp; &ldquo;Do
+not disturb your mind,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;with other hopes or
+fears than reason may suggest; if you are pleased with the prognostics
+of good, you will be terrified likewise with tokens of evil, and your
+whole life will be a prey to superstition.&nbsp; Whatever facilitates
+our work is more than an omen; it is a cause of success.&nbsp; This
+is one of those pleasing surprises which often happen to active resolution.&nbsp;
+Many things difficult to design prove easy to performance.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XIV - RASSELAS AND IMLAC RECEIVE AN UNEXPECTED VISIT.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+They had now wrought their way to the middle, and solaced their toil
+with the approach of liberty, when the Prince, coming down to refresh
+himself with air, found his sister Nekayah standing at the mouth of
+the cavity.&nbsp; He started, and stood confused, afraid to tell his
+design, and yet hopeless to conceal it.&nbsp; A few moments determined
+him to repose on her fidelity, and secure her secrecy by a declaration
+without reserve.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Do not imagine,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;that I came
+hither as a spy.&nbsp; I had long observed from my window that you and
+Imlac directed your walk every day towards the same point, but I did
+not suppose you had any better reason for the preference than a cooler
+shade or more fragrant bank, nor followed you with any other design
+than to partake of your conversation.&nbsp; Since, then, not suspicion,
+but fondness, has detected you, let me not lose the advantage of my
+discovery.&nbsp; I am equally weary of confinement with yourself, and
+not less desirous of knowing what is done or suffered in the world.&nbsp;
+Permit me to fly with you from this tasteless tranquillity, which will
+yet grow more loathsome when you have left me.&nbsp; You may deny me
+to accompany you, but cannot hinder me from following.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Prince, who loved Nekayah above his other sisters, had no inclination
+to refuse her request, and grieved that he had lost an opportunity of
+showing his confidence by a voluntary communication.&nbsp; It was, therefore,
+agreed that she should leave the valley with them; and that in the meantime
+she should watch, lest any other straggler should, by chance or curiosity,
+follow them to the mountain.<br>
+<br>
+At length their labour was at an end.&nbsp; They saw light beyond the
+prominence, and, issuing to the top of the mountain, beheld the Nile,
+yet a narrow current, wandering beneath them.<br>
+<br>
+The Prince looked round with rapture, anticipated all the pleasures
+of travel, and in thought was already transported beyond his father&rsquo;s
+dominions.&nbsp; Imlac, though very joyful at his escape, had less expectation
+of pleasure in the world, which he had before tried and of which he
+had been weary.<br>
+<br>
+Rasselas was so much delighted with a wider horizon, that he could not
+soon be persuaded to return into the valley.&nbsp; He informed his sister
+that the way was now open, and that nothing now remained but to prepare
+for their departure.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XV - THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS LEAVE THE VALLEY, AND SEE MANY
+WONDERS.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The Prince and Princess had jewels sufficient to make them rich whenever
+they came into a place of commerce, which, by Imlac&rsquo;s direction,
+they hid in their clothes, and on the night of the next full moon all
+left the valley.&nbsp; The Princess was followed only by a single favourite,
+who did not know whither she was going.<br>
+<br>
+They clambered through the cavity, and began to go down on the other
+side.&nbsp; The Princess and her maid turned their eyes toward every
+part, and seeing nothing to bound their prospect, considered themselves
+in danger of being lost in a dreary vacuity.&nbsp; They stopped and
+trembled.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am almost afraid,&rdquo; said the Princess,
+&ldquo;to begin a journey of which I cannot perceive an end, and to
+venture into this immense plain where I may be approached on every side
+by men whom I never saw.&rdquo;&nbsp; The Prince felt nearly the same
+emotions, though he thought it more manly to conceal them.<br>
+<br>
+Imlac smiled at their terrors, and encouraged them to proceed.&nbsp;
+But the Princess continued irresolute till she had been imperceptibly
+drawn forward too far to return.<br>
+<br>
+In the morning they found some shepherds in the field, who set some
+milk and fruits before them.&nbsp; The Princess wondered that she did
+not see a palace ready for her reception and a table spread with delicacies;
+but being faint and hungry, she drank the milk and ate the fruits, and
+thought them of a higher flavour than the products of the valley.<br>
+<br>
+They travelled forward by easy journeys, being all unaccustomed to toil
+and difficulty, and knowing that, though they might be missed, they
+could not be pursued.&nbsp; In a few days they came into a more populous
+region, where Imlac was diverted with the admiration which his companions
+expressed at the diversity of manners, stations, and employments.&nbsp;
+Their dress was such as might not bring upon them the suspicion of having
+anything to conceal; yet the Prince, wherever he came, expected to be
+obeyed, and the Princess was frighted because those who came into her
+presence did not prostrate themselves.&nbsp; Imlac was forced to observe
+them with great vigilance, lest they should betray their rank by their
+unusual behaviour, and detained them several weeks in the first village
+to accustom them to the sight of common mortals.<br>
+<br>
+By degrees the royal wanderers were taught to understand that they had
+for a time laid aside their dignity, and were to expect only such regard
+as liberality and courtesy could procure.&nbsp; And Imlac having by
+many admonitions prepared them to endure the tumults of a port and the
+ruggedness of the commercial race, brought them down to the sea-coast.<br>
+<br>
+The Prince and his sister, to whom everything was new, were gratified
+equally at all places, and therefore remained for some months at the
+port without any inclination to pass further.&nbsp; Imlac was content
+with their stay, because he did not think it safe to expose them, unpractised
+in the world, to the hazards of a foreign country.<br>
+<br>
+At last he began to fear lest they should be discovered, and proposed
+to fix a day for their departure.&nbsp; They had no pretensions to judge
+for themselves, and referred the whole scheme to his direction.&nbsp;
+He therefore took passage in a ship to Suez, and, when the time came,
+with great difficulty prevailed on the Princess to enter the vessel.<br>
+<br>
+They had a quick and prosperous voyage, and from Suez travelled by land
+to Cairo.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XVI - THEY ENTER CAIRO, AND FIND EVERY MAN HAPPY.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+As they approached the city, which filled the strangers with astonishment,
+&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said Imlac to the Prince, &ldquo;is the place where
+travellers and merchants assemble from all corners of the earth.&nbsp;
+You will here find men of every character and every occupation.&nbsp;
+Commerce is here honourable.&nbsp; I will act as a merchant, and you
+shall live as strangers who have no other end of travel than curiosity;
+it will soon be observed that we are rich.&nbsp; Our reputation will
+procure us access to all whom we shall desire to know; you shall see
+all the conditions of humanity, and enable yourselves at leisure to
+make your <i>choice of life</i>.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+They now entered the town, stunned by the noise and offended by the
+crowds.&nbsp; Instruction had not yet so prevailed over habit but that
+they wondered to see themselves pass undistinguished along the streets,
+and met by the lowest of the people without reverence or notice.&nbsp;
+The Princess could not at first bear the thought of being levelled with
+the vulgar, and for some time continued in her chamber, where she was
+served by her favourite Pekuah, as in the palace of the valley.<br>
+<br>
+Imlac, who understood traffic, sold part of the jewels the next day,
+and hired a house, which he adorned with such magnificence that he was
+immediately considered as a merchant of great wealth.&nbsp; His politeness
+attracted many acquaintances, and his generosity made him courted by
+many dependants.&nbsp; His companions, not being able to mix in the
+conversation, could make no discovery of their ignorance or surprise,
+and were gradually initiated in the world as they gained knowledge of
+the language.<br>
+<br>
+The Prince had by frequent lectures been taught the use and nature of
+money; but the ladies could not for a long time comprehend what the
+merchants did with small pieces of gold and silver, or why things of
+so little use should be received as an equivalent to the necessaries
+of life.<br>
+<br>
+They studied the language two years, while Imlac was preparing to set
+before them the various ranks and conditions of mankind.&nbsp; He grew
+acquainted with all who had anything uncommon in their fortune or conduct.&nbsp;
+He frequented the voluptuous and the frugal, the idle and the busy,
+the merchants and the men of learning.<br>
+<br>
+The Prince now being able to converse with fluency, and having learned
+the caution necessary to be observed in his intercourse with strangers,
+began to accompany Imlac to places of resort, and to enter into all
+assemblies, that he might make his <i>choice of life.<br>
+<br>
+</i>For some time he thought choice needless, because all appeared to
+him really happy.&nbsp; Wherever he went he met gaiety and kindness,
+and heard the song of joy or the laugh of carelessness.&nbsp; He began
+to believe that the world overflowed with universal plenty, and that
+nothing was withheld either from want or merit; that every hand showered
+liberality and every heart melted with benevolence: &ldquo;And who then,&rdquo;
+says he, &ldquo;will be suffered to be wretched?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to crush the
+hope of inexperience: till one day, having sat awhile silent, &ldquo;I
+know not,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;what can be the reason that
+I am more unhappy than any of our friends.&nbsp; I see them perpetually
+and unalterably cheerful, but feel my own mind restless and uneasy.&nbsp;
+I am unsatisfied with those pleasures which I seem most to court.&nbsp;
+I live in the crowds of jollity, not so much to enjoy company as to
+shun myself, and am only loud and merry to conceal my sadness.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Every man,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;may by examining his own
+mind guess what passes in the minds of others.&nbsp; When you feel that
+your own gaiety is counterfeit, it may justly lead you to suspect that
+of your companions not to be sincere.&nbsp; Envy is commonly reciprocal.&nbsp;
+We are long before we are convinced that happiness is never to be found,
+and each believes it possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of
+obtaining it for himself.&nbsp; In the assembly where you passed the
+last night there appeared such sprightliness of air and volatility of
+fancy as might have suited beings of a higher order, formed to inhabit
+serener regions, inaccessible to care or sorrow; yet, believe me, Prince,
+was there not one who did not dread the moment when solitude should
+deliver him to the tyranny of reflection.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;may be true of others since
+it is true of me; yet, whatever be the general infelicity of man, one
+condition is more happy than another, and wisdom surely directs us to
+take the least evil in the <i>choice of life</i>.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The causes of good and evil,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;are
+so various and uncertain, so often entangled with each other, so diversified
+by various relations, and so much subject to accidents which cannot
+be foreseen, that he who would fix his condition upon incontestable
+reasons of preference must live and die inquiring and deliberating.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;But, surely,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;the wise men, to whom
+we listen with reverence and wonder, chose that mode of life for themselves
+which they thought most likely to make them happy.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Very few,&rdquo; said the poet, &ldquo;live by choice.&nbsp;
+Every man is placed in the present condition by causes which acted without
+his foresight, and with which he did not always willingly co-operate,
+and therefore you will rarely meet one who does not think the lot of
+his neighbour better than his own.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I am pleased to think,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;that my
+birth has given me at least one advantage over others by enabling me
+to determine for myself.&nbsp; I have here the world before me.&nbsp;
+I will review it at leisure: surely happiness is somewhere to be found.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XVII - THE PRINCE ASSOCIATES WITH YOUNG MEN OF SPIRIT AND GAIETY.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Rasselas rose next day, and resolved to begin his experiments upon life.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Youth,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;is the time of gladness: I will
+join myself to the young men whose only business is to gratify their
+desires, and whose time is all spent in a succession of enjoyments.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+To such societies he was readily admitted, but a few days brought him
+back weary and disgusted.&nbsp; Their mirth was without images, their
+laughter without motive; their pleasures were gross and sensual, in
+which the mind had no part; their conduct was at once wild and mean
+- they laughed at order and at law, but the frown of power dejected
+and the eye of wisdom abashed them.<br>
+<br>
+The Prince soon concluded that he should never be happy in a course
+of life of which he was ashamed.&nbsp; He thought it unsuitable to a
+reasonable being to act without a plan, and to be sad or cheerful only
+by chance.&nbsp; &ldquo;Happiness,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;must be something
+solid and permanent, without fear and without uncertainty.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+But his young companions had gained so much of his regard by their frankness
+and courtesy that he could not leave them without warning and remonstrance.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;My friends,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I have seriously considered
+our manners and our prospects, and find that we have mistaken our own
+interest.&nbsp; The first years of man must make provision for the last.&nbsp;
+He that never thinks, never can be wise.&nbsp; Perpetual levity must
+end in ignorance; and intemperance, though it may fire the spirits for
+an hour, will make life short or miserable.&nbsp; Let us consider that
+youth is of no long duration, and that in mature age, when the enchantments
+of fancy shall cease, and phantoms of delight dance no more about us,
+we shall have no comforts but the esteem of wise men and the means of
+doing good.&nbsp; Let us therefore stop while to stop is in our power:
+let us live as men who are some time to grow old, and to whom it will
+be the most dreadful of all evils to count their past years by follies,
+and to be reminded of their former luxuriance of health only by the
+maladies which riot has produced.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+They stared awhile in silence one upon another, and at last drove him
+away by a general chorus of continued laughter.<br>
+<br>
+The consciousness that his sentiments were just and his intention kind
+was scarcely sufficient to support him against the horror of derision.&nbsp;
+But he recovered his tranquillity and pursued his search.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XVIII - THE PRINCE FINDS A WISE AND HAPPY MAN.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+As he was one day walking in the street he saw a spacious building which
+all were by the open doors invited to enter.&nbsp; He followed the stream
+of people, and found it a hall or school of declamation, in which professors
+read lectures to their auditory.&nbsp; He fixed his eye upon a sage
+raised above the rest, who discoursed with great energy on the government
+of the passions.&nbsp; His look was venerable, his action graceful,
+his pronunciation clear, and his diction elegant.&nbsp; He showed with
+great strength of sentiment and variety of illustration that human nature
+is degraded and debased when the lower faculties predominate over the
+higher; that when fancy, the parent of passion, usurps the dominion
+of the mind, nothing ensues but the natural effect of unlawful government,
+perturbation, and confusion; that she betrays the fortresses of the
+intellect to rebels, and excites her children to sedition against their
+lawful sovereign.&nbsp; He compared reason to the sun, of which the
+light is constant, uniform, and lasting; and fancy to a meteor, of bright
+but transitory lustre, irregular in its motion and delusive in its direction.<br>
+<br>
+He then communicated the various precepts given from time to time for
+the conquest of passion, and displayed the happiness of those who had
+obtained the important victory, after which man is no longer the slave
+of fear nor the fool of hope; is no more emaciated by envy, inflamed
+by anger, emasculated by tenderness, or depressed by grief; but walks
+on calmly through the tumults or privacies of life, as the sun pursues
+alike his course through the calm or the stormy sky.<br>
+<br>
+He enumerated many examples of heroes immovable by pain or pleasure,
+who looked with indifference on those modes or accidents to which the
+vulgar give the names of good and evil.&nbsp; He exhorted his hearers
+to lay aside their prejudices, and arm themselves against the shafts
+of malice or misfortune, by invulnerable patience: concluding that this
+state only was happiness, and that this happiness was in every one&rsquo;s
+power.<br>
+<br>
+Rasselas listened to him with the veneration due to the instructions
+of a superior being, and waiting for him at the door, humbly implored
+the liberty of visiting so great a master of true wisdom.&nbsp; The
+lecturer hesitated a moment, when Rasselas put a purse of gold into
+his hand, which he received with a mixture of joy and wonder.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I have found,&rdquo; said the Prince at his return to Imlac,
+&ldquo;a man who can teach all that is necessary to be known; who, from
+the unshaken throne of rational fortitude, looks down on the scenes
+of life changing beneath him.&nbsp; He speaks, and attention watches
+his lips.&nbsp; He reasons, and conviction closes his periods.&nbsp;
+This man shall be my future guide: I will learn his doctrines and imitate
+his life.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Be not too hasty,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;to trust or to admire
+the teachers of morality: they discourse like angels, but they live
+like men.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+Rasselas, who could not conceive how any man could reason so forcibly
+without feeling the cogency of his own arguments, paid his visit in
+a few days, and was denied admission.&nbsp; He had now learned the power
+of money, and made his way by a piece of gold to the inner apartment,
+where he found the philosopher in a room half darkened, with his eyes
+misty and his face pale.&nbsp; &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you
+are come at a time when all human friendship is useless; what I suffer
+cannot be remedied: what I have lost cannot be supplied.&nbsp; My daughter,
+my only daughter, from whose tenderness I expected all the comforts
+of my age, died last night of a fever.&nbsp; My views, my purposes,
+my hopes, are at an end: I am now a lonely being, disunited from society.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;mortality is an event by
+which a wise man can never be surprised: we know that death is always
+near, and it should therefore always be expected.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Young
+man,&rdquo; answered the philosopher, &ldquo;you speak like one that
+has never felt the pangs of separation.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;Have you
+then forgot the precepts,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;which you so
+powerfully enforced?&nbsp; Has wisdom no strength to arm the heart against
+calamity?&nbsp; Consider that external things are naturally variable,
+but truth and reason are always the same.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;What comfort,&rdquo;
+said the mourner, &ldquo;can truth and reason afford me?&nbsp; Of what
+effect are they now, but to tell me that my daughter will not be restored?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult misery with
+reproof, went away, convinced of the emptiness of rhetorical sounds,
+and the inefficacy of polished periods and studied sentences.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XIX - A GLIMPSE OF PASTORAL LIFE.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+He was still eager upon the same inquiry; and having heard of a hermit
+that lived near the lowest cataract of the Nile, and filled the whole
+country with the fame of his sanctity, resolved to visit his retreat,
+and inquire whether that felicity which public life could not afford
+was to be found in solitude, and whether a man whose age and virtue
+made him venerable could teach any peculiar art of shunning evils or
+enduring them.<br>
+<br>
+Imlac and the Princess agreed to accompany him, and after the necessary
+preparations, they began their journey.&nbsp; Their way lay through
+the fields, where shepherds tended their flocks and the lambs were playing
+upon the pasture.&nbsp; &ldquo;This,&rdquo; said the poet, &ldquo;is
+the life which has been often celebrated for its innocence and quiet;
+let us pass the heat of the day among the shepherds&rsquo; tents, and
+know whether all our searches are not to terminate in pastoral simplicity.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The proposal pleased them; and they induced the shepherds, by small
+presents and familiar questions, to tell the opinion of their own state.&nbsp;
+They were so rude and ignorant, so little able to compare the good with
+the evil of the occupation, and so indistinct in their narratives and
+descriptions, that very little could be learned from them.&nbsp; But
+it was evident that their hearts were cankered with discontent; that
+they considered themselves as condemned to labour for the luxury of
+the rich, and looked up with stupid malevolence towards those that were
+placed above them.<br>
+<br>
+The Princess pronounced with vehemence that she would never suffer these
+envious savages to be her companions, and that she should not soon be
+desirous of seeing any more specimens of rustic happiness; but could
+not believe that all the accounts of primeval pleasures were fabulous,
+and was in doubt whether life had anything that could be justly preferred
+to the placid gratification of fields and woods.&nbsp; She hoped that
+the time would come when, with a few virtuous and elegant companions,
+she should gather flowers planted by her own hands, fondle the lambs
+of her own ewe, and listen without care, among brooks and breezes, to
+one of her maidens reading in the shade.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XX - THE DANGER OF PROSPERITY.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+On the next day they continued their journey till the heat compelled
+them to look round for shelter.&nbsp; At a small distance they saw a
+thick wood, which they no sooner entered than they perceived that they
+were approaching the habitations of men.&nbsp; The shrubs were diligently
+cut away to open walks where the shades ware darkest; the boughs of
+opposite trees were artificially interwoven; seats of flowery turf were
+raised in vacant spaces; and a rivulet that wantoned along the side
+of a winding path had its banks sometimes opened into small basins,
+and its stream sometimes obstructed by little mounds of stone heaped
+together to increase its murmurs.<br>
+<br>
+They passed slowly through the wood, delighted with such unexpected
+accommodations, and entertained each other with conjecturing what or
+who he could be that in those rude and unfrequented regions had leisure
+and art for such harmless luxury.<br>
+<br>
+As they advanced they heard the sound of music, and saw youths and virgins
+dancing in the grove; and going still farther beheld a stately palace
+built upon a hill surrounded by woods.&nbsp; The laws of Eastern hospitality
+allowed them to enter, and the master welcomed them like a man liberal
+and wealthy.<br>
+<br>
+He was skilful enough in appearances soon to discern that they were
+no common guests, and spread his table with magnificence.&nbsp; The
+eloquence of Imlac caught his attention, and the lofty courtesy of the
+Princess excited his respect.&nbsp; When they offered to depart, he
+entreated their stay, and was the next day more unwilling to dismiss
+them than before.&nbsp; They were easily persuaded to stop, and civility
+grew up in time to freedom and confidence.<br>
+<br>
+The Prince now saw all the domestics cheerful and all the face of nature
+smiling round the place, and could not forbear to hope that he should
+find here what he was seeking; but when he was congratulating the master
+upon his possessions he answered with a sigh, &ldquo;My condition has
+indeed the appearance of happiness, but appearances are delusive.&nbsp;
+My prosperity puts my life in danger; the Bassa of Egypt is my enemy,
+incensed only by my wealth and popularity.&nbsp; I have been hitherto
+protected against him by the princes of the country; but as the favour
+of the great is uncertain I know not how soon my defenders may be persuaded
+to share the plunder with the Bassa.&nbsp; I have sent my treasures
+into a distant country, and upon the first alarm am prepared to follow
+them.&nbsp; Then will my enemies riot in my mansion, and enjoy the gardens
+which I have planted.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+They all joined in lamenting his danger and deprecating his exile; and
+the Princess was so much disturbed with the tumult of grief and indignation
+that she retired to her apartment.&nbsp; They continued with their kind
+inviter a few days longer, and then went to find the hermit.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXI - THE HAPPINESS OF SOLITUDE - THE HERMIT&rsquo;S HISTORY.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+They came on the third day, by the direction of the peasants, to the
+hermit&rsquo;s cell.&nbsp; It was a cavern in the side of a mountain,
+overshadowed with palm trees, at such a distance from the cataract that
+nothing more was heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as composes
+the mind to pensive meditation, especially when it was assisted by the
+wind whistling among the branches.&nbsp; The first rude essay of Nature
+had been so much improved by human labour that the cave contained several
+apartments appropriated to different uses, and often afforded lodging
+to travellers whom darkness or tempests happened to overtake.<br>
+<br>
+The hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness of the
+evening.&nbsp; On one side lay a book with pens and paper; on the other
+mechanical instruments of various kinds.&nbsp; As they approached him
+unregarded, the Princess observed that he had not the countenance of
+a man that had found or could teach the way to happiness.<br>
+<br>
+They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid like a man not
+unaccustomed to the forms of Courts.&nbsp; &ldquo;My children,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;if you have lost your way, you shall be willingly supplied
+with such conveniences for the night as this cavern will afford.&nbsp;
+I have all that Nature requires, and you will not expect delicacies
+in a hermit&rsquo;s cell.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+They thanked him; and, entering, were pleased with the neatness and
+regularity of the place.&nbsp; The hermit set flesh and wine before
+them, though he fed only upon fruits and water.&nbsp; His discourse
+was cheerful without levity, and pious without enthusiasm.&nbsp; He
+soon gained the esteem of his guests, and the Princess repented her
+hasty censure.<br>
+<br>
+At last Imlac began thus: &ldquo;I do not now wonder that your reputation
+is so far extended: we have heard at Cairo of your wisdom, and came
+hither to implore your direction for this young man and maiden in the
+<i>choice of life</i>.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;To him that lives well,&rdquo; answered the hermit, &ldquo;every
+form of life is good; nor can I give any other rule for choice than
+to remove all apparent evil.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;He will most certainly remove from evil,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;who shall devote himself to that solitude which you have recommended
+by your example.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I have indeed lived fifteen years in solitude,&rdquo; said the
+hermit, &ldquo;but have no desire that my example should gain any imitators.&nbsp;
+In my youth I professed arms, and was raised by degrees to the highest
+military rank.&nbsp; I have traversed wide countries at the head of
+my troops, and seen many battles and sieges.&nbsp; At last, being disgusted
+by the preferments of a younger officer, and feeling that my vigour
+was beginning to decay, I resolved to close my life in peace, having
+found the world full of snares, discord, and misery.&nbsp; I had once
+escaped from the pursuit of the enemy by the shelter of this cavern,
+and therefore chose it for my final residence.&nbsp; I employed artificers
+to form it into chambers, and stored it with all that I was likely to
+want.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;For some time after my retreat I rejoiced like a tempest-beaten
+sailor at his entrance into the harbour, being delighted with the sudden
+change of the noise and hurry of war to stillness and repose.&nbsp;
+When the pleasure of novelty went away, I employed my hours in examining
+the plants which grow in the valley, and the minerals which I collected
+from the rocks.&nbsp; But that inquiry is now grown tasteless and irksome.&nbsp;
+I have been for some time unsettled and distracted: my mind is disturbed
+with a thousand perplexities of doubt and vanities of imagination, which
+hourly prevail upon me, because I have no opportunities of relaxation
+or diversion.&nbsp; I am sometimes ashamed to think that I could not
+secure myself from vice but by retiring from the exercise of virtue,
+and begin to suspect that I was rather impelled by resentment than led
+by devotion into solitude.&nbsp; My fancy riots in scenes of folly,
+and I lament that I have lost so much, and have gained so little.&nbsp;
+In solitude, if I escape the example of bad men, I want likewise the
+counsel and conversation of the good.&nbsp; I have been long comparing
+the evils with the advantages of society, and resolve to return into
+the world to-morrow.&nbsp; The life of a solitary man will be certainly
+miserable, but not certainly devout.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+They heard his resolution with surprise, but after a short pause offered
+to conduct him to Cairo.&nbsp; He dug up a considerable treasure which
+he had hid among the rocks, and accompanied them to the city, on which,
+as he approached it, he gazed with rapture.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXII - THE HAPPINESS OF A LIFE LED ACCORDING TO NATURE<i>.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+</i>Rasselas went often to an assembly of learned men, who met at stated
+times to unbend their minds and compare their opinions.&nbsp; Their
+manners were somewhat coarse, but their conversation was instructive,
+and their disputations acute, though sometimes too violent, and often
+continued till neither controvertist remembered upon what question he
+began.&nbsp; Some faults were almost general among them: every one was
+pleased to hear the genius or knowledge of another depreciated.<br>
+<br>
+In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the hermit,
+and the wonder with which he heard him censure a course of life which
+he had so deliberately chosen and so laudably followed.&nbsp; The sentiments
+of the hearers were various.&nbsp; Some were of opinion that the folly
+of his choice had been justly punished by condemnation to perpetual
+perseverance.&nbsp; One of the youngest among them, with great vehemence,
+pronounced him a hypocrite.&nbsp; Some talked of the right of society
+to the labour of individuals, and considered retirement as a desertion
+of duty.&nbsp; Others readily allowed that there was a time when the
+claims of the public were satisfied, and when a man might properly sequester
+himself, to review his life and purify his heart.<br>
+<br>
+One who appeared more affected with the narrative than the rest thought
+it likely that the hermit would in a few years go back to his retreat,
+and perhaps, if shame did not restrain or death intercept him, return
+once more from his retreat into the world.&nbsp; &ldquo;For the hope
+of happiness,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is so strongly impressed that the
+longest experience is not able to efface it.&nbsp; Of the present state,
+whatever it be, we feel and are forced to confess the misery; yet when
+the same state is again at a distance, imagination paints it as desirable.&nbsp;
+But the time will surely come when desire will no longer be our torment
+and no man shall be wretched but by his own fault.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said a philosopher who had heard him with tokens
+of great impatience, &ldquo;is the present condition of a wise man.&nbsp;
+The time is already come when none are wretched but by their own fault.&nbsp;
+Nothing is more idle than to inquire after happiness which Nature has
+kindly placed within our reach.&nbsp; The way to be happy is to live
+according to Nature, in obedience to that universal and unalterable
+law with which every heart is originally impressed; which is not written
+on it by precept, but engraven by destiny; not instilled by education,
+but infused at our nativity.&nbsp; He that lives according to Nature
+will suffer nothing from the delusions of hope or importunities of desire;
+he will receive and reject with equability of temper; and act or suffer
+as the reason of things shall alternately prescribe.&nbsp; Other men
+may amuse themselves with subtle definitions or intricate ratiocination.&nbsp;
+Let them learn to be wise by easier means: let them observe the hind
+of the forest and the linnet of the grove: let them consider the life
+of animals, whose motions are regulated by instinct; they obey their
+guide, and are happy.&nbsp; Let us therefore at length cease to dispute,
+and learn to live: throw away the encumbrance of precepts, which they
+who utter them with so much pride and pomp do not understand, and carry
+with us this simple and intelligible maxim: that deviation from Nature
+is deviation from happiness.<br>
+<br>
+When he had spoken he looked round him with a placid air, and enjoyed
+the consciousness of his own beneficence.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the Prince with great modesty, &ldquo;as I,
+like all the rest of mankind, am desirous of felicity, my closest attention
+has been fixed upon your discourse: I doubt not the truth of a position
+which a man so learned has so confidently advanced.&nbsp; Let me only
+know what it is to live according to Nature.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;When I find young men so humble and so docile,&rdquo; said the
+philosopher, &ldquo;I can deny them no information which my studies
+have enabled me to afford.&nbsp; To live according to Nature is to act
+always with due regard to the fitness arising from the relations and
+qualities of causes and effects; to concur with the great and unchangeable
+scheme of universal felicity; to co-operate with the general disposition
+and tendency of the present system of things.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Prince soon found that this was one of the sages whom he should
+understand less as he heard him longer.&nbsp; He therefore bowed and
+was silent; and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied and the rest
+vanquished, rose up and departed with the air of a man that had co-operated
+with the present system.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXIII - THE PRINCE AND HIS SISTER DIVIDE BETWEEN THEM THE WORK
+OF OBSERVATION.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Rasselas returned home full of reflections, doubting how to direct his
+future steps.&nbsp; Of the way to happiness he found the learned and
+simple equally ignorant; but as he was yet young, he flattered himself
+that he had time remaining for more experiments and further inquiries.&nbsp;
+He communicated to Imlac his observations and his doubts, but was answered
+by him with new doubts and remarks that gave him no comfort.&nbsp; He
+therefore discoursed more frequently and freely with his sister, who
+had yet the same hope with himself, and always assisted him to give
+some reason why, though he had been hitherto frustrated, he might succeed
+at last.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;We have hitherto,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;known but little of
+the world; we have never yet been either great or mean.&nbsp; In our
+own country, though we had royalty, we had no power; and in this we
+have not yet seen the private recesses of domestic peace.&nbsp; Imlac
+favours not our search, lest we should in time find him mistaken.&nbsp;
+We will divide the task between us; you shall try what is to be found
+in the splendour of Courts, and I will range the shades of humbler life.&nbsp;
+Perhaps command and authority may be the supreme blessings, as they
+afford the most opportunities of doing good; or perhaps what this world
+can give may be found in the modest habitations of middle fortune -
+too low for great designs, and too high for penury and distress.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXIV - THE PRINCE EXAMINES THE HAPPINESS OF HIGH STATIONS.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Rasselas applauded the design, and appeared next day with a splendid
+retinue at the Court of the Bassa.&nbsp; He was soon distinguished for
+his magnificence, and admitted, as a Prince whose curiosity had brought
+him from distant countries, to an intimacy with the great officers and
+frequent conversation with the Bassa himself.<br>
+<br>
+He was at first inclined to believe that the man must be pleased with
+his own condition whom all approached with reverence and heard with
+obedience, and who had the power to extend his edicts to a whole kingdom.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;There can be no pleasure,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;equal to that
+of feeling at once the joy of thousands all made happy by wise administration.&nbsp;
+Yet, since by the law of subordination this sublime delight can be in
+one nation but the lot of one, it is surely reasonable to think that
+there is some satisfaction more popular and accessible, and that millions
+can hardly be subjected to the will of a single man, only to fill his
+particular breast with incommunicable content.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+These thoughts were often in his mind, and he found no solution of the
+difficulty.&nbsp; But as presents and civilities gained him more familiarity,
+he found that almost every man who stood high in his employment hated
+all the rest and was hated by them, and that their lives were a continual
+succession of plots and detections, stratagems and escapes, faction
+and treachery.&nbsp; Many of those who surrounded the Bassa were sent
+only to watch and report his conduct: every tongue was muttering censure,
+and every eye was searching for a fault.<br>
+<br>
+At last the letters of revocation arrived: the Bassa was carried in
+chains to Constantinople, and his name was mentioned no more.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;What are we now to think of the prerogatives of power?&rdquo;
+said Rasselas to his sister: &ldquo;is it without efficacy to good,
+or is the subordinate degree only dangerous, and the supreme safe and
+glorious?&nbsp; Is the Sultan the only happy man in his dominions, or
+is the Sultan himself subject to the torments of suspicion and the dread
+of enemies?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+In a short time the second Bassa was deposed.&nbsp; The Sultan that
+had advanced him was murdered by the Janissaries, and his successor
+had other views or different favourites.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXV - THE PRINCESS PURSUES HER INQUIRY WITH MORE DILIGENCE THAN
+SUCCESS.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The Princess in the meantime insinuated herself into many families;
+for there are few doors through which liberality, joined with good humour,
+cannot find its way.&nbsp; The daughters of many houses were airy and
+cheerful; but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to the conversation
+of Imlac and her brother to be much pleased with childish levity and
+prattle which had no meaning.&nbsp; She found their thoughts narrow,
+their wishes low, and their merriment often artificial.&nbsp; Their
+pleasures, poor as they were, could not be preserved pure, but were
+embittered by petty competitions and worthless emulation.&nbsp; They
+were always jealous of the beauty of each other, of a quality to which
+solicitude can add nothing, and from which detraction can take nothing
+away.&nbsp; Many were in love with triflers like themselves, and many
+fancied that they were in love when in truth they were only idle.&nbsp;
+Their affection was not fixed on sense or virtue, and therefore seldom
+ended but in vexation.&nbsp; Their grief, however, like their joy, was
+transient; everything floated in their mind unconnected with the past
+or future, so that one desire easily gave way to another, as a second
+stone, cast into the water, effaces and confounds the circles of the
+first.<br>
+<br>
+With these girls she played as with inoffensive animals, and found them
+proud of her countenance and weary of her company.<br>
+<br>
+But her purpose was to examine more deeply, and her affability easily
+persuaded the hearts that were swelling with sorrow to discharge their
+secrets in her ear, and those whom hope flattered or prosperity delighted
+often courted her to partake their pleasure.<br>
+<br>
+The Princess and her brother commonly met in the evening in a private
+summerhouse on the banks of the Nile, and related to each other the
+occurrences of the day.&nbsp; As they were sitting together the Princess
+cast her eyes upon the river that flowed before her.&nbsp; &ldquo;Answer,&rdquo;
+said she, &ldquo;great father of waters, thou that rollest thy goods
+through eighty nations, to the invocations of the daughter of thy native
+king.&nbsp; Tell me if thou waterest through all thy course a single
+habitation from which thou dost not hear the murmurs of complaint.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;You are then,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;not more successful
+in private houses than I have been in Courts.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+have, since the last partition of our provinces,&rdquo; said the Princess,
+&ldquo;enabled myself to enter familiarly into many families, where
+there was the fairest show of prosperity and peace, and know not one
+house that is not haunted by some fury that destroys their quiet.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I did not seek ease among the poor, because I concluded that
+there it could not be found.&nbsp; But I saw many poor whom I had supposed
+to live in affluence.&nbsp; Poverty has in large cities very different
+appearances.&nbsp; It is often concealed in splendour and often in extravagance.&nbsp;
+It is the care of a very great part of mankind to conceal their indigence
+from the rest.&nbsp; They support themselves by temporary expedients,
+and every day is lost in contriving for the morrow.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;This, however, was an evil which, though frequent, I saw with
+less pain, because I could relieve it.&nbsp; Yet some have refused my
+bounties; more offended with my quickness to detect their wants than
+pleased with my readiness to succour them; and others, whose exigencies
+compelled them to admit my kindness, have never been able to forgive
+their benefactress.&nbsp; Many, however, have been sincerely grateful
+without the ostentation of gratitude or the hope of other favours.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXVI - THE PRINCESS CONTINUES HER REMARKS UPON PRIVATE LIFE.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Nekayah, perceiving her brother&rsquo;s attention fixed, proceeded in
+her narrative.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;In families where there is or is not poverty there is commonly
+discord.&nbsp; If a kingdom be, as Imlac tells us, a great family, a
+family likewise is a little kingdom, torn with factions and exposed
+to revolutions.&nbsp; An unpractised observer expects the love of parents
+and children to be constant and equal.&nbsp; But this kindness seldom
+continues beyond the years of infancy; in a short time the children
+become rivals to their parents.&nbsp; Benefits are allowed by reproaches,
+and gratitude debased by envy.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Parents and children seldom act in concert; each child endeavours
+to appropriate the esteem or the fondness of the parents; and the parents,
+with yet less temptation, betray each other to their children.&nbsp;
+Thus, some place their confidence in the father and some in the mother,
+and by degrees the house is filled with artifices and feuds.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The opinions of children and parents, of the young and the old,
+are naturally opposite, by the contrary effects of hope and despondency,
+of expectation and experience, without crime or folly on either side.&nbsp;
+The colours of life in youth and age appear different, as the face of
+Nature in spring and winter.&nbsp; And how can children credit the assertions
+of parents which their own eyes show them to be false?<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Few parents act in such a manner as much to enforce their maxims
+by the credit of their lives.&nbsp; The old man trusts wholly to slow
+contrivance and gradual progression; the youth expects to force his
+way by genius, vigour, and precipitance.&nbsp; The old man pays regard
+to riches, and the youth reverences virtue.&nbsp; The old man deifies
+prudence; the youth commits himself to magnanimity and chance.&nbsp;
+The young man, who intends no ill, believes that none is intended, and
+therefore acts with openness and candour; but his father; having suffered
+the injuries of fraud, is impelled to suspect and too often allured
+to practise it.&nbsp; Age looks with anger on the temerity of youth,
+and youth with contempt on the scrupulosity of age.&nbsp; Thus parents
+and children for the greatest part live on to love less and less; and
+if those whom Nature has thus closely united are the torments of each
+other, where shall we look for tenderness and consolations?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;you must have been unfortunate
+in your choice of acquaintance.&nbsp; I am unwilling to believe that
+the most tender of all relations is thus impeded in its effects by natural
+necessity.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Domestic discord,&rdquo; answered she, &ldquo;is not inevitably
+and fatally necessary, but yet it is not easily avoided.&nbsp; We seldom
+see that a whole family is virtuous; the good and the evil cannot well
+agree, and the evil can yet less agree with one another.&nbsp; Even
+the virtuous fall sometimes to variance, when their virtues are of different
+kinds and tending to extremes.&nbsp; In general, those parents have
+most reverence who most deserve it, for he that lives well cannot be
+despised.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Many other evils infest private life.&nbsp; Some are the slaves
+of servants whom they have trusted with their affairs.&nbsp; Some are
+kept in continual anxiety by the caprice of rich relations, whom they
+cannot please and dare not offend.&nbsp; Some husbands are imperious
+and some wives perverse, and, as it is always more easy to do evil than
+good, though the wisdom or virtue of one can very rarely make many happy,
+the folly or vice of one makes many miserable.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;If such be the general effect of marriage,&rdquo; said the Prince,
+&ldquo;I shall for the future think it dangerous to connect my interest
+with that of another, lest I should be unhappy by my partner&rsquo;s
+fault.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I have met,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;with many who live
+single for that reason, but I never found that their prudence ought
+to raise envy.&nbsp; They dream away their time without friendship,
+without fondness, and are driven to rid themselves of the day, for which
+they have no use, by childish amusements or vicious delights.&nbsp;
+They act as beings under the constant sense of some known inferiority
+that fills their minds with rancour and their tongues with censure.&nbsp;
+They are peevish at home and malevolent abroad, and, as the outlaws
+of human nature, make it their business and their pleasure to disturb
+that society which debars them from its privileges.&nbsp; To live without
+feeling or exciting sympathy, to be fortunate without adding to the
+felicity of others, or afflicted without tasting the balm of pity, is
+a state more gloomy than solitude; it is not retreat but exclusion from
+mankind.&nbsp; Marriage has many pains, but celibacy has no pleasures.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;What then is to be done?&rdquo; said Rasselas.&nbsp; &ldquo;The
+more we inquire the less we can resolve.&nbsp; Surely he is most likely
+to please himself that has no other inclination to regard.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXVII - DISQUISITION UPON GREATNESS.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The conversation had a short pause.&nbsp; The Prince, having considered
+his sister&rsquo;s observation, told her that she had surveyed life
+with prejudice and supposed misery where she did not find it.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Your narrative,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;throws yet a darker gloom
+upon the prospects of futurity.&nbsp; The predictions of Imlac were
+but faint sketches of the evils painted by Nekayah.&nbsp; I have been
+lately convinced that quiet is not the daughter of grandeur or of power;
+that her presence is not to be bought by wealth nor enforced by conquest.&nbsp;
+It is evident that as any man acts in a wider compass he must be more
+exposed to opposition from enmity or miscarriage from chance.&nbsp;
+Whoever has many to please or to govern must use the ministry of many
+agents, some of whom will be wicked and some ignorant, by some he will
+be misled and by others betrayed.&nbsp; If he gratifies one he will
+offend another; those that are not favoured will think themselves injured,
+and since favours can be conferred but upon few the greater number will
+be always discontented.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The discontent,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;which is thus
+unreasonable, I hope that I shall always have spirit to despise and
+you power to repress.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Discontent,&rdquo; answered Rasselas, &ldquo;will not always
+be without reason under the most just and vigilant administration of
+public affairs.&nbsp; None, however attentive, can always discover that
+merit which indigence or faction may happen to obscure, and none, however
+powerful, can always reward it.&nbsp; Yet he that sees inferior desert
+advanced above him will naturally impute that preference to partiality
+or caprice, and indeed it can scarcely be hoped that any man, however
+magnanimous by Nature or exalted by condition, will be able to persist
+for ever in fixed and inexorable justice of distribution; he will sometimes
+indulge his own affections and sometimes those of his favourites; he
+will permit some to please him who can never serve him; he will discover
+in those whom he loves qualities which in reality they do not possess,
+and to those from whom he receives pleasure he will in his turn endeavour
+to give it.&nbsp; Thus will recommendations sometimes prevail which
+were purchased by money or by the more destructive bribery of flattery
+and servility.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;He that hath much to do will do something wrong, and of that
+wrong must suffer the consequences, and if it were possible that he
+should always act rightly, yet, when such numbers are to judge of his
+conduct, the bad will censure and obstruct him by malevolence and the
+good sometimes by mistake.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The highest stations cannot therefore hope to be the abodes of
+happiness, which I would willingly believe to have fled from thrones
+and palaces to seats of humble privacy and placid obscurity.&nbsp; For
+what can hinder the satisfaction or intercept the expectations of him
+whose abilities are adequate to his employments, who sees with his own
+eyes the whole circuit of his influence, who chooses by his own knowledge
+all whom he trusts, and whom none are tempted to deceive by hope or
+fear?&nbsp; Surely he has nothing to do but to love and to be loved;
+to be virtuous and to be happy.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Whether perfect happiness would be procured by perfect goodness,&rdquo;
+said Nekayah, &ldquo;this world will never afford an opportunity of
+deciding.&nbsp; But this, at least, may be maintained, that we do not
+always find visible happiness in proportion to visible virtue.&nbsp;
+All natural and almost all political evils are incident alike to the
+bad and good; they are confounded in the misery of a famine, and not
+much distinguished in the fury of a faction; they sink together in a
+tempest and are driven together from their country by invaders.&nbsp;
+All that virtue can afford is quietness of conscience and a steady prospect
+of a happier state; this may enable us to endure calamity with patience,
+but remember that patience must oppose pain.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXVIII - RASSELAS AND NEKAYAH CONTINUE THEIR CONVERSATION.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Dear Princess,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;you fall into the
+common errors of exaggeratory declamation, by producing in a familiar
+disquisition examples of national calamities and scenes of extensive
+misery which are found in books rather than in the world, and which,
+as they are horrid, are ordained to be rare.&nbsp; Let us not imagine
+evils which we do not feel, nor injure life by misrepresentations.&nbsp;
+I cannot bear that querulous eloquence which threatens every city with
+a siege like that of Jerusalem, that makes famine attend on every flight
+of locust, and suspends pestilence on the wing of every blast that issues
+from the south.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;On necessary and inevitable evils which overwhelm kingdoms at
+once all disputation is vain; when they happen they must be endured.&nbsp;
+But it is evident that these bursts of universal distress are more dreaded
+than felt; thousands and tens of thousands flourish in youth and wither
+in age, without the knowledge of any other than domestic evils, and
+share the same pleasures and vexations, whether their kings are mild
+or cruel, whether the armies of their country pursue their enemies or
+retreat before them.&nbsp; While Courts are disturbed with intestine
+competitions and ambassadors are negotiating in foreign countries, the
+smith still plies his anvil and the husbandman drives his plough forward;
+the necessaries of life are required and obtained, and the successive
+business of the season continues to make its wonted revolutions.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Let us cease to consider what perhaps may never happen, and what,
+when it shall happen, will laugh at human speculation.&nbsp; We will
+not endeavour to modify the motions of the elements or to fix the destiny
+of kingdoms.&nbsp; It is our business to consider what beings like us
+may perform, each labouring for his own happiness by promoting within
+his circle, however narrow, the happiness of others.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Marriage is evidently the dictate of Nature; men and women were
+made to be the companions of each other, and therefore I cannot be persuaded
+but that marriage is one of the means of happiness.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;whether marriage
+be more than one of the innumerable modes of human misery.&nbsp; When
+I see and reckon the various forms of connubial infelicity, the unexpected
+causes of lasting discord, the diversities of temper, the oppositions
+of opinion, the rude collisions of contrary desire where both are urged
+by violent impulses, the obstinate contest of disagreeing virtues where
+both are supported by consciousness of good intention, I am sometimes
+disposed to think, with the severer casuists of most nations, that marriage
+is rather permitted than approved, and that none, but by the instigation
+of a passion too much indulged, entangle themselves with indissoluble
+compact.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;You seem to forget,&rdquo; replied Rasselas, &ldquo;that you
+have, even now represented celibacy as less happy than marriage.&nbsp;
+Both conditions may be bad, but they cannot both be worse.&nbsp; Thus
+it happens, when wrong opinions are entertained, that they mutually
+destroy each other and leave the mind open to truth.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I did not expect,&rdquo; answered, the Princess, &ldquo;to hear
+that imputed to falsehood which is the consequence only of frailty.&nbsp;
+To the mind, as to the eye, it is difficult to compare with exactness
+objects vast in their extent and various in their parts.&nbsp; When
+we see or conceive the whole at once, we readily note the discriminations
+and decide the preference, but of two systems, of which neither can
+be surveyed by any human being in its full compass of magnitude and
+multiplicity of complication, where is the wonder that, judging of the
+whole by parts, I am alternately affected by one and the other as either
+presses on my memory or fancy?&nbsp; We differ from ourselves just as
+we differ from each other when we see only part of the question, as
+in the multifarious relations of politics and morality, but when we
+perceive the whole at once, as in numerical computations, all agree
+in one judgment, and none ever varies in his opinion.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Let us not add,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;to the other evils
+of life the bitterness of controversy, nor endeavour to vie with each
+other in subtilties of argument.&nbsp; We are employed in a search of
+which both are equally to enjoy the success or suffer by the miscarriage;
+it is therefore fit that we assist each other.&nbsp; You surely conclude
+too hastily from the infelicity of marriage against its institution;
+will not the misery of life prove equally that life cannot be the gift
+of Heaven?&nbsp; The world must be peopled by marriage or peopled without
+it.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;How the world is to be peopled,&rdquo; returned Nekayah, &ldquo;is
+not my care and need not be yours.&nbsp; I see no danger that the present
+generation should omit to leave successors behind them; we are not now
+inquiring for the world, but for ourselves.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXIX - THE DEBATE ON MARRIAGE (<i>continued</i>).<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The good of the whole,&rdquo; says Rasselas, &ldquo;is the same
+with the good of all its parts.&nbsp; If marriage be best for mankind,
+it must be evidently best for individuals; or a permanent and necessary
+duty must be the cause of evil, and some must be inevitably sacrificed
+to the convenience of others.&nbsp; In the estimate which you have made
+of the two states, it appears that the incommodities of a single life
+are in a great measure necessary and certain, but those of the conjugal
+state accidental and avoidable.&nbsp; I cannot forbear to flatter myself
+that prudence and benevolence will make marriage happy.&nbsp; The general
+folly of mankind is the cause of general complaint.&nbsp; What can be
+expected but disappointment and repentance from a choice made in the
+immaturity of youth, in the ardour of desire, without judgment, without
+foresight, without inquiry after conformity of opinions, similarity
+of manners, rectitude of judgment, or purity of sentiment?<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Such is the common process of marriage.&nbsp; A youth and maiden,
+meeting by chance or brought together by artifice, exchange glances,
+reciprocate civilities, go home and dream of one another.&nbsp; Having
+little to divert attention or diversify thought, they find themselves
+uneasy when they are apart, and therefore conclude that they shall be
+happy together.&nbsp; They marry, and discover what nothing but voluntary
+blindness before had concealed; they wear out life in altercations,
+and charge Nature with cruelty.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;From those early marriages proceeds likewise the rivalry of parents
+and children: the son is eager to enjoy the world before the father
+is willing to forsake it, and there is hardly room at once for two generations.&nbsp;
+The daughter begins to bloom before the mother can be content to fade,
+and neither can forbear to wish for the absence of the other.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Surely all these evils may be avoided by that deliberation and
+delay which prudence prescribes to irrevocable choice.&nbsp; In the
+variety and jollity of youthful pleasures, life may be well enough supported
+without the help of a partner.&nbsp; Longer time will increase experience,
+and wider views will allow better opportunities of inquiry and selection;
+one advantage at least will be certain, the parents will be visibly
+older than their children.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;What reason cannot collect,&rdquo; and Nekayah, &ldquo;and what
+experiment has not yet taught, can be known only from the report of
+others.&nbsp; I have been told that late marriages are not eminently
+happy.&nbsp; This is a question too important to be neglected; and I
+have often proposed it to those whose accuracy of remark and comprehensiveness
+of knowledge made their suffrages worthy of regard.&nbsp; They have
+generally determined that it is dangerous for a man and woman to suspend
+their fate upon each other at a time when opinions are fixed and habits
+are established, when friendships have been contracted on both sides,
+when life has been planned into method, and the mind has long enjoyed
+the contemplation of its own prospects.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;It is scarcely possible that two travelling through the world
+under the conduct of chance should have been both directed to the same
+path, and it will not often happen that either will quit the track which
+custom has made pleasing.&nbsp; When the desultory levity of youth has
+settled into regularity, it is soon succeeded by pride ashamed to yield,
+or obstinacy delighting to contend.&nbsp; And even though mutual esteem
+produces mutual desire to please, time itself, as it modifies unchangeably
+the external mien, determines likewise the direction of the passions,
+and gives an inflexible rigidity to the manners.&nbsp; Long customs
+are not easily broken; he that attempts to change the course of his
+own life very often labours in vain, and how shall we do that for others
+which we are seldom able to do for ourselves?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;But surely,&rdquo; interposed the Prince, &ldquo;you suppose
+the chief motive of choice forgotten or neglected.&nbsp; Whenever I
+shall seek a wife, it shall be my first question whether she be willing
+to be led by reason.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Thus it is,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;that philosophers are
+deceived.&nbsp; There are a thousand familiar disputes which reason
+never can decide; questions that elude investigation, and make logic
+ridiculous; cases where something must be done, and where little can
+be said.&nbsp; Consider the state of mankind, and inquire how few can
+be supposed to act upon any occasions, whether small or great, with
+all the reasons of action present to their minds.&nbsp; Wretched would
+be the pair, above all names of wretchedness, who should be doomed to
+adjust by reason every morning all the minute details of a domestic
+day.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Those who marry at an advanced age will probably escape the encroachments
+of their children, but in the diminution of this advantage they will
+be likely to leave them, ignorant and helpless, to a guardian&rsquo;s
+mercy; or if that should not happen, they must at least go out of the
+world before they see those whom they love best either wise or great.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;From their children, if they have less to fear, they have less
+also to hope; and they lose without equivalent the joys of early love,
+and the convenience of uniting with manners pliant and minds susceptible
+of new impressions, which might wear away their dissimilitudes by long
+cohabitation, as soft bodies by continual attrition conform their surfaces
+to each other.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I believe it will be found that those who marry late are best
+pleased with their children, and those who marry early with their partners.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The union of these two affections,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;would
+produce all that could be wished.&nbsp; Perhaps there is a time when
+marriage might unite them - a time neither too early for the father
+nor too late for the husband.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Every hour,&rdquo; answered the Princess, &ldquo;confirms my
+prejudice in favour of the position so often uttered by the mouth of
+Imlac, that &lsquo;Nature sets her gifts on the right hand and on the
+left.&rsquo;&nbsp; Those conditions which flatter hope and attract desire
+are so constituted that as we approach one we recede from another.&nbsp;
+There are goods so opposed that we cannot seize both, but by too much
+prudence may pass between them at too great a distance to reach either.&nbsp;
+This is often the fate of long consideration; he does nothing who endeavours
+to do more than is allowed to humanity.&nbsp; Flatter not yourself with
+contrarieties of pleasure.&nbsp; Of the blessings set before you make
+your choice, and be content.&nbsp; No man can taste the fruits of autumn
+while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of the spring; no
+man can at the same time fill his cup from the source and from the mouth
+of the Nile.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXX - IMLAC ENTERS, AND CHANGES THE CONVERSATION.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Here Imlac entered, and interrupted them.&nbsp; &ldquo;Imlac,&rdquo;
+said Rasselas, &ldquo;I have been taking from the Princess the dismal
+history of private life, and am almost discouraged from further search.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;It seems to me,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;that while you are
+making the choice of life you neglect to live.&nbsp; You wander about
+a single city, which, however large and diversified, can now afford
+few novelties, and forget that you are in a country famous among the
+earliest monarchies for the power and wisdom of its inhabitants - a
+country where the sciences first dawned that illuminate the world, and
+beyond which the arts cannot be traced of civil society or domestic
+life.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The old Egyptians have left behind them monuments of industry
+and power before which all European magnificence is confessed to fade
+away.&nbsp; The ruins of their architecture are the schools of modern
+builders; and from the wonders which time has spared we may conjecture,
+though uncertainly, what it has destroyed.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;My curiosity,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;does not very strongly
+lead me to survey piles of stone or mounds of earth.&nbsp; My business
+is with man.&nbsp; I came hither not to measure fragments of temples
+or trace choked aqueducts, but to look upon the various scenes of the
+present world.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The things that are now before us,&rdquo; said the Princess,
+&ldquo;require attention, and deserve it.&nbsp; What have I to do with
+the heroes or the monuments of ancient times - with times which can
+never return, and heroes whose form of life was different from all that
+the present condition of mankind requires or allows?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;To know anything,&rdquo; returned the poet, &ldquo;we must know
+its effects; to see men, we must see their works, that we may learn
+what reason has dictated or passion has excited, and find what are the
+most powerful motives of action.&nbsp; To judge rightly of the present,
+we must oppose it to the past; for all judgment is comparative, and
+of the future nothing can be known.&nbsp; The truth is that no mind
+is much employed upon the present; recollection and anticipation fill
+up almost all our moments.&nbsp; Our passions are joy and grief, love
+and hatred, hope and fear.&nbsp; Of joy and grief, the past is the object,
+and the future of hope and fear; even love and hatred respect the past,
+for the cause must have been before the effect.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The present state of things is the consequence of the former;
+and it is natural to inquire what were the sources of the good that
+we enjoy, or the evils that we suffer.&nbsp; If we act only for ourselves,
+to neglect the study of history is not prudent.&nbsp; If we are entrusted
+with the care of others, it is not just.&nbsp; Ignorance, when it is
+voluntary, is criminal; and he may properly be charged with evil who
+refused to learn how he might prevent it.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;There is no part of history so generally useful as that which
+relates to the progress of the human mind, the gradual improvement of
+reason, the successive advances of science, the vicissitudes of learning
+and ignorance (which are the light and darkness of thinking beings),
+the extinction and resuscitation of arts, and the revolutions of the
+intellectual world.&nbsp; If accounts of battles and invasions are peculiarly
+the business of princes, the useful or elegant arts are not to be neglected;
+those who have kingdoms to govern have understandings to cultivate.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Example is always more efficacious than precept.&nbsp; A soldier
+is formed in war, and a painter must copy pictures.&nbsp; In this, contemplative
+life has the advantage.&nbsp; Great actions are seldom seen, but the
+labours of art are always at hand for those who desire to know what
+art has been able to perform.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;When the eye or the imagination is struck with any uncommon work,
+the next transition of an active mind is to the means by which it was
+performed.&nbsp; Here begins the true use of such contemplation.&nbsp;
+We enlarge our comprehension by new ideas, and perhaps recover some
+art lost to mankind, or learn what is less perfectly known in our own
+country.&nbsp; At least we compare our own with former times, and either
+rejoice at our improvements, or, what is the first motion towards good,
+discover our defects.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I am willing,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;to see all that
+can deserve my search.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;And I,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;shall rejoice to learn
+something of the manners of antiquity.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The most pompous monument of Egyptian greatness, and one of the
+most bulky works of manual industry,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;are the
+Pyramids: fabrics raised before the time of history, and of which the
+earliest narratives afford us only uncertain traditions.&nbsp; Of these
+the greatest is still standing, very little injured by time.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Let us visit them to-morrow,&rdquo; said Nekayah.&nbsp; &ldquo;I
+have often heard of the Pyramids, and shall not rest till I have seen
+them, within and without, with my own eyes.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXI - THEY VISIT THE PYRAMIDS.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The resolution being thus taken, they set out the next day.&nbsp; They
+laid tents upon their camels, being resolved to stay among the Pyramids
+till their curiosity was fully satisfied.&nbsp; They travelled gently,
+turned aside to everything remarkable, stopped from time to time and
+conversed with the inhabitants, and observed the various appearances
+of towns ruined and inhabited, of wild and cultivated nature.<br>
+<br>
+When they came to the Great Pyramid they were astonished at the extent
+of the base and the height of the top.&nbsp; Imlac explained to them
+the principles upon which the pyramidal form was chosen for a fabric
+intended to co-extend its duration with that of the world: he showed
+that its gradual diminution gave it such stability as defeated all the
+common attacks of the elements, and could scarcely be overthrown by
+earthquakes themselves, the least resistible of natural violence.&nbsp;
+A concussion that should shatter the pyramid would threaten the dissolution
+of the continent.<br>
+<br>
+They measured all its dimensions, and pitched their tents at its foot.&nbsp;
+Next day they prepared to enter its interior apartments, and having
+hired the common guides, climbed up to the first passage; when the favourite
+of the Princess, looking into the cavity, stepped back and trembled.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Pekuah,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;of what art thou afraid?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Of the narrow entrance,&rdquo; answered the lady, &ldquo;and
+of the dreadful gloom.&nbsp; I dare not enter a place which must surely
+be inhabited by unquiet souls.&nbsp; The original possessors of these
+dreadful vaults will start up before us, and perhaps shut us in for
+ever.&rdquo;&nbsp; She spoke, and threw her arms round the neck of her
+mistress.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;If all your fear be of apparitions,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;I
+will promise you safety.&nbsp; There is no danger from the dead: he
+that is once buried will be seen no more.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;That the dead are seen no more,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;I will
+not undertake to maintain against the concurrent and unvaried testimony
+of all ages and of all nations.&nbsp; There is no people, rude or learned,
+among whom apparitions of the dead are not related and believed.&nbsp;
+This opinion, which perhaps prevails as far as human nature is diffused,
+could become universal only by its truth: those that never heard of
+one another would not have agreed in a tale which nothing but experience
+can make credible.&nbsp; That it is doubted by single cavillers can
+very little weaken the general evidence, and some who deny it with their
+tongues confess it by their fears.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Yet I do not mean to add new terrors to those which have already
+seized upon Pekuah.&nbsp; There can be no reason why spectres should
+haunt the Pyramid more than other places, or why they should have power
+or will to hurt innocence and purity.&nbsp; Our entrance is no violation
+of their privileges: we can take nothing from them; how, then, can we
+offend them?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;My dear Pekuah,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;I will always
+go before you, and Imlac shall follow you.&nbsp; Remember that you are
+the companion of the Princess of Abyssinia.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;If the Princess is pleased that her servant should die,&rdquo;
+returned the lady, &ldquo;let her command some death less dreadful than
+enclosure in this horrid cavern.&nbsp; You know I dare not disobey you
+- I must go if you command me; but if I once enter, I never shall come
+back.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Princess saw that her fear was too strong for expostulation or reproof,
+and, embracing her, told her that she should stay in the tent till their
+return.&nbsp; Pekuah was not yet satisfied, but entreated the Princess
+not to pursue so dreadful a purpose as that of entering the recesses
+of the Pyramids.&nbsp; &ldquo;Though I cannot teach courage,&rdquo;
+said Nekayah, &ldquo;I must not learn cowardice, nor leave at last undone
+what I came hither only to do.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXII - THEY ENTER THE PYRAMID.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Pekuah descended to the tents, and the rest entered the Pyramid.&nbsp;
+They passed through the galleries, surveyed the vaults of marble, and
+examined the chest in which the body of the founder is supposed to have
+been deposited.&nbsp; They then sat down in one of the most spacious
+chambers to rest awhile before they attempted to return.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;We have now,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;gratified our minds with
+an exact view of the greatest work of man, except the wall of China.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Of the wall it is very easy to assign the motive.&nbsp; It secured
+a wealthy and timorous nation from the incursions of barbarians, whose
+unskilfulness in the arts made it easier for them to supply their wants
+by rapine than by industry, and who from time to time poured in upon
+the inhabitants of peaceful commerce as vultures descend upon domestic
+fowl.&nbsp; Their celerity and fierceness made the wall necessary, and
+their ignorance made it efficacious.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;But for the Pyramids, no reason has ever been given adequate
+to the cost and labour of the work.&nbsp; The narrowness of the chambers
+proves that it could afford no retreat from enemies, and treasures might
+have been reposited at far less expense with equal security.&nbsp; It
+seems to have been erected only in compliance with that hunger of imagination
+which preys incessantly upon life, and must be always appeased by some
+employment.&nbsp; Those who have already all that they can enjoy must
+enlarge their desires.&nbsp; He that has built for use till use is supplied
+must begin to build for vanity, and extend his plan to the utmost power
+of human performance that he may not be soon reduced to form another
+wish.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I consider this mighty structure as a monument of the insufficiency
+of human enjoyments.&nbsp; A king whose power is unlimited, and whose
+treasures surmount all real and imaginary wants, is compelled to solace,
+by the erection of a pyramid, the satiety of dominion and tastelessness
+of pleasures, and to amuse the tediousness of declining life by seeing
+thousands labouring without end, and one stone, for no purpose, laid
+upon another.&nbsp; Whoever thou art that, not content with a moderate
+condition, imaginest happiness in royal magnificence, and dreamest that
+command or riches can feed the appetite of novelty with perpetual gratifications,
+survey the Pyramids, and confess thy folly!&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXIII - THE PRINCESS MEETS WITH AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+They rose up, and returned through the cavity at which they had entered;
+and the Princess prepared for her favourite a long narrative of dark
+labyrinths and costly rooms, and of the different impressions which
+the varieties of the way had made upon her.&nbsp; But when they came
+to their train, they found every one silent and dejected: the men discovered
+shame and fear in their countenances, and the women were weeping in
+their tents.<br>
+<br>
+What had happened they did not try to conjecture, but immediately inquired.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;You had scarcely entered into the Pyramid,&rdquo; said one of
+the attendants, &ldquo;when a troop of Arabs rushed upon us: we were
+too few to resist them, and too slow to escape.&nbsp; They were about
+to search the tents, set us on our camels, and drive us along before
+them, when the approach of some Turkish horsemen put them to flight:
+but they seized the Lady Pekuah with her two maids, and carried them
+away: the Turks are now pursuing them by our instigation, but I fear
+they will not be able to overtake them.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Princess was overpowered with surprise and grief.&nbsp; Rasselas,
+in the first heat of his resentment, ordered his servants to follow
+him, and prepared to pursue the robbers with his sabre in his hand.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;what can you hope from violence
+or valour?&nbsp; The Arabs are mounted on horses trained to battle and
+retreat; we have only beasts of burden.&nbsp; By leaving our present
+station we may lose the Princess, but cannot hope to regain Pekuah.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+In a short time the Turks returned, having not been able to reach the
+enemy.&nbsp; The Princess burst out into new lamentations, and Rasselas
+could scarcely forbear to reproach them with cowardice; but Imlac was
+of opinion that the escape of the Arabs was no addition to their misfortune,
+for perhaps they would have killed their captives rather than have resigned
+them.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXIV - THEY RETURN TO CAIRO WITHOUT PEKUAH.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+There was nothing to be hoped from longer stay.&nbsp; They returned
+to Cairo, repenting of their curiosity, censuring the negligence of
+the government, lamenting their own rashness, which had neglected to
+procure a guard, imagining many expedients by which the loss of Pekuah
+might have been prevented, and resolving to do something for her recovery,
+though none could find anything proper to be done.<br>
+<br>
+Nekayah retired to her chamber, where her women attempted to comfort
+her by telling her that all had their troubles, and that Lady Pekuah
+had enjoyed much happiness in the world for a long time, and might reasonably
+expect a change of fortune.&nbsp; They hoped that some good would befall
+her wheresoever she was, and that their mistress would find another
+friend who might supply her place.<br>
+<br>
+The Princess made them no answer; and they continued the form of condolence,
+not much grieved in their hearts that the favourite was lost.<br>
+<br>
+Next day the Prince presented to the Bassa a memorial of the wrong which
+he had suffered, and a petition for redress.&nbsp; The Bassa threatened
+to punish the robbers, but did not attempt to catch them; nor indeed
+could any account or description be given by which he might direct the
+pursuit.<br>
+<br>
+It soon appeared that nothing would be done by authority.&nbsp; Governors
+being accustomed to hear of more crimes than they can punish, and more
+wrongs than they can redress, set themselves at ease by indiscriminate
+negligence, and presently forget the request when they lose sight of
+the petitioner.<br>
+<br>
+Imlac then endeavoured to gain some intelligence by private agents.&nbsp;
+He found many who pretended to an exact knowledge of all the haunts
+of the Arabs, and to regular correspondence with their chiefs, and who
+readily undertook the recovery of Pekuah.&nbsp; Of these, some were
+furnished with money for their journey, and came back no more; some
+were liberally paid for accounts which a few days discovered to be false.&nbsp;
+But the Princess would not suffer any means, however improbable, to
+be left untried.&nbsp; While she was doing something, she kept her hope
+alive.&nbsp; As one expedient failed, another was suggested; when one
+messenger returned unsuccessful, another was despatched to a different
+quarter.<br>
+<br>
+Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been heard; the
+hopes which they had endeavoured to raise in each other grew more languid;
+and the Princess, when she saw nothing more to be tried, sunk down inconsolable
+in hopeless dejection.&nbsp; A thousand times she reproached herself
+with the easy compliance by which she permitted her favourite to stay
+behind her.&nbsp; &ldquo;Had not my fondness,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;lessened
+my authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of her terrors.&nbsp; She
+ought to have feared me more than spectres.&nbsp; A severe look would
+have overpowered her; a peremptory command would have compelled obedience.&nbsp;
+Why did foolish indulgence prevail upon me?&nbsp; Why did I not speak,
+and refuse to hear?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Great Princess,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;do not reproach yourself
+for your virtue, or consider that as blameable by which evil has accidentally
+been caused.&nbsp; Your tenderness for the timidity of Pekuah was generous
+and kind.&nbsp; When we act according to our duty, we commit the events
+to Him by whose laws our actions are governed, and who will suffer none
+to be finally punished for obedience.&nbsp; When, in prospect of some
+good, whether natural or moral, we break the rules prescribed us, we
+withdraw from the direction of superior wisdom, and take all consequences
+upon ourselves.&nbsp; Man cannot so far know the connection of causes
+and events as that he may venture to do wrong in order to do right.&nbsp;
+When we pursue our end by lawful means, we may always console our miscarriage
+by the hope of future recompense.&nbsp; When we consult only our own
+policy, and attempt to find a nearer way to good by over-leaping the
+settled boundaries of right and wrong, we cannot be happy even by success,
+because we cannot escape the consciousness of our fault; but if we miscarry,
+the disappointment is irremediably embittered.&nbsp; How comfortless
+is the sorrow of him who feels at once the pangs of guilt and the vexation
+of calamity which guilt has brought upon him!<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Consider, Princess, what would have been your condition if the
+Lady Pekuah had entreated to accompany you, and, being compelled to
+stay in the tents, had been carried away; or how would you have borne
+the thought if you had forced her into the Pyramid, and she had died
+before you in agonies of terror?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Had either happened,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;I could not
+have endured life till now; I should have been tortured to madness by
+the remembrance of such cruelty, or must have pined away in abhorrence
+of myself.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;This, at least,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is the present reward
+of virtuous conduct, that no unlucky consequence can oblige us to repent
+it.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXV - THE PRINCESS LANGUISHES FOR WANT OF PEKUAH.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Nekayah, being thus reconciled to herself, found that no evil is insupportable
+but that which is accompanied with consciousness of wrong.&nbsp; She
+was from that time delivered from the violence of tempestuous sorrow,
+and sunk into silent pensiveness and gloomy tranquillity.&nbsp; She
+sat from morning to evening recollecting all that had been done or said
+by her Pekuah, treasured up with care every trifle on which Pekuah had
+set an accidental value, and which might recall to mind any little incident
+or careless conversation.&nbsp; The sentiments of her whom she now expected
+to see no more were treasured in her memory as rules of life, and she
+deliberated to no other end than to conjecture on any occasion what
+would have been the opinion and counsel of Pekuah.<br>
+<br>
+The women by whom she was attended knew nothing of her real condition,
+and therefore she could not talk to them but with caution and reserve.&nbsp;
+She began to remit her curiosity, having no great desire to collect
+notions which she had no convenience of uttering.&nbsp; Rasselas endeavoured
+first to comfort and afterwards to divert her; he hired musicians, to
+whom she seemed to listen, but did not hear them; and procured masters
+to instruct her in various arts, whose lectures, when they visited her
+again, were again to be repeated.&nbsp; She had lost her taste of pleasure
+and her ambition of excellence; and her mind, though forced into short
+excursions, always recurred to the image of her friend.<br>
+<br>
+Imlac was every morning earnestly enjoined to renew his inquiries, and
+was asked every night whether he had yet heard of Pekuah; till, not
+being able to return the Princess the answer that she desired, he was
+less and less willing to come into her presence.&nbsp; She observed
+his backwardness, and commanded him to attend her.&nbsp; &ldquo;You
+are not,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;to confound impatience with resentment,
+or to suppose that I charge you with negligence because I repine at
+your unsuccessfulness.&nbsp; I do not much wonder at your absence.&nbsp;
+I know that the unhappy are never pleasing, and that all naturally avoid
+the contagion of misery.&nbsp; To hear complaints is wearisome alike
+to the wretched and the happy; for who would cloud by adventitious grief
+the short gleams of gaiety which life allows us, or who that is struggling
+under his own evils will add to them the miseries of another?<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The time is at hand when none shall be disturbed any longer by
+the sighs of Nekayah: my search after happiness is now at an end.&nbsp;
+I am resolved to retire from the world, with all its flatteries and
+deceits, and will hide myself in solitude, without any other care than
+to compose my thoughts and regulate my hours by a constant succession
+of innocent occupations, till, with a mind purified from earthly desires,
+I shall enter into that state to which all are hastening, and in which
+I hope again to enjoy the friendship of Pekuah.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Do not entangle your mind,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;by irrevocable
+determinations, nor increase the burden of life by a voluntary accumulation
+of misery.&nbsp; The weariness of retirement will continue to increase
+when the loss of Pekuah is forgot.&nbsp; That you have been deprived
+of one pleasure is no very good reason for rejection of the rest.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Since Pekuah was taken from me,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;I
+have no pleasure to reject or to retain.&nbsp; She that has no one to
+love or trust has little to hope.&nbsp; She wants the radical principle
+of happiness.&nbsp; We may perhaps allow that what satisfaction this
+world can afford must arise from the conjunction of wealth, knowledge,
+and goodness.&nbsp; Wealth is nothing but as it is bestowed, and knowledge
+nothing but as it is communicated.&nbsp; They must therefore be imparted
+to others, and to whom could I now delight to impart them?&nbsp; Goodness
+affords the only comfort which can be enjoyed without a partner, and
+goodness may be practised in retirement.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;How far solitude may admit goodness or advance it, I shall not,&rdquo;
+replied Imlac, &ldquo;dispute at present.&nbsp; Remember the confession
+of the pious hermit.&nbsp; You will wish to return into the world when
+the image of your companion has left your thoughts.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;That time,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;will never come.&nbsp;
+The generous frankness, the modest obsequiousness, and the faithful
+secrecy of my dear Pekuah will always be more missed as I shall live
+longer to see vice and folly.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The state of a mind oppressed with a sudden calamity,&rdquo;
+said Imlac, &ldquo;is like that of the fabulous inhabitants of the new-created
+earth, who, when the first night came upon them, supposed that day would
+never return.&nbsp; When the clouds of sorrow gather over us, we see
+nothing beyond them, nor can imagine how they will be dispelled; yet
+a new day succeeded to the night, and sorrow is never long without a
+dawn of ease.&nbsp; But they who restrain themselves from receiving
+comfort do as the savages would have done had they put out their eyes
+when it was dark.&nbsp; Our minds, like our bodies, are in continual
+flux; something is hourly lost, and something acquired.&nbsp; To lose
+much at once is inconvenient to either, but while the vital power remains
+uninjured, nature will find the means of reparation.&nbsp; Distance
+has the same effect on the mind as on the eye; and while we glide along
+the stream of time, whatever we leave behind us is always lessening,
+and that which we approach increasing in magnitude.&nbsp; Do not suffer
+life to stagnate: it will grow muddy for want of motion; commit yourself
+again to the current of the world; Pekuah will vanish by degrees; you
+will meet in your way some other favourite, or learn to diffuse yourself
+in general conversation.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;At least,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;do not despair before
+all remedies have been tried.&nbsp; The inquiry after the unfortunate
+lady is still continued, and shall be carried on with yet greater diligence,
+on condition that you will promise to wait a year for the event, without
+any unalterable resolution.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise to her
+brother, who had been obliged by Imlac to require it.&nbsp; Imlac had,
+indeed, no great hope of regaining Pekuah; but he supposed that if he
+could secure the interval of a year, the Princess would be then in no
+danger of a cloister.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXVI - PEKUAH IS STILL REMEMBERED.&nbsp; THE PROGRESS OF SORROW.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+Nekayah, seeing that nothing was omitted for the recovery of her favourite,
+and having by her promise set her intention of retirement at a distance,
+began imperceptibly to return to common cares and common pleasures.&nbsp;
+She rejoiced without her own consent at the suspension of her sorrows,
+and sometimes caught herself with indignation in the act of turning
+away her mind from the remembrance of her whom yet she resolved never
+to forget.<br>
+<br>
+She then appointed a certain hour of the day for meditation on the merits
+and fondness of Pekuah, and for some weeks retired constantly at the
+time fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen and her countenance clouded.&nbsp;
+By degrees she grew less scrupulous, and suffered any important and
+pressing avocation to delay the tribute of daily tears.&nbsp; She then
+yielded to less occasions, and sometimes forgot what she was indeed
+afraid to remember, and at last wholly released herself from the duty
+of periodical affliction.<br>
+<br>
+Her real love of Pekuah was not yet diminished.&nbsp; A thousand occurrences
+brought her back to memory, and a thousand wants, which nothing but
+the confidence of friendship can supply, made her frequently regretted.&nbsp;
+She therefore solicited Imlac never to desist from inquiry, and to leave
+no art of intelligence untried, that at least she might have the comfort
+of knowing that she did not suffer by negligence or sluggishness.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Yet what,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;is to be expected from our
+pursuit of happiness, when we find the state of life to be such that
+happiness itself is the cause of misery?&nbsp; Why should we endeavour
+to attain that of which the possession cannot be secured?&nbsp; I shall
+henceforward fear to yield my heart to excellence, however bright, or
+to fondness, however tender, lest I should lose again what I have lost
+in Pekuah.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXVII - THE PRINCESS HEARS NEWS OF PEKUAH.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+In seven mouths one of the messengers who had been sent away upon the
+day when the promise was drawn from the Princess, returned, after many
+unsuccessful rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with an account that
+Pekuah was in the hands of an Arab chief, who possessed a castle or
+fortress on the extremity of Egypt.&nbsp; The Arab, whose revenue was
+plunder, was willing to restore her, with her two attendants, for two
+hundred ounces of gold.<br>
+<br>
+The price was no subject of debate.&nbsp; The Princess was in ecstasies
+when she heard that her favourite was alive, and might so cheaply be
+ransomed.&nbsp; She could not think of delaying for a moment Pekuah&rsquo;s
+happiness or her own, but entreated her brother to send back the messenger
+with the sum required.&nbsp; Imlac, being consulted, was not very confident
+of the veracity of the relater, and was still more doubtful of the Arab&rsquo;s
+faith, who might, if he were too liberally trusted, detain at once the
+money and the captives.&nbsp; He thought it dangerous to put themselves
+in the power of the Arab by going into his district; and could not expect
+that the rover would so much expose himself as to come into the lower
+country, where he might be seized by the forces of the Bassa.<br>
+<br>
+It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust.&nbsp; But Imlac,
+after some deliberation, directed the messenger to propose that Pekuah
+should be conducted by ten horsemen to the monastery of St. Anthony,
+which is situated in the deserts of Upper Egypt, where she should be
+met by the same number, and her ransom should be paid.<br>
+<br>
+That no time might be lost, as they expected that the proposal would
+not be refused, they immediately began their journey to the monastery;
+and when they arrived, Imlac went forward with the former messenger
+to the Arab&rsquo;s fortress.&nbsp; Rasselas was desirous to go with
+them; but neither his sister nor Imlac would consent.&nbsp; The Arab,
+according to the custom of his nation, observed the laws of hospitality
+with great exactness to those who put themselves into his power, and
+in a few days brought Pekuah, with her maids, by easy journeys, to the
+place appointed, where, receiving the stipulated price, he restored
+her, with great respect, to liberty and her friends, and undertook to
+conduct them back towards Cairo beyond all danger of robbery or violence.<br>
+<br>
+The Princess and her favourite embraced each other with transport too
+violent to be expressed, and went out together to pour the tears of
+tenderness in secret, and exchange professions of kindness and gratitude.&nbsp;
+After a few hours they returned into the refectory of the convent, where,
+in the presence of the prior and his brethren, the Prince required of
+Pekuah the history of her adventures.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXVIII - THE ADVENTURES OF THE LADY PEKUAH.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;At what time and in what manner I was forced away,&rdquo; said
+Pekuah, &ldquo;your servants have told you.&nbsp; The suddenness of
+the event struck me with surprise, and I was at first rather stupefied
+than agitated with any passion of either fear or sorrow.&nbsp; My confusion
+was increased by the speed and tumult of our flight, while we were followed
+by the Turks, who, as it seemed, soon despaired to overtake us, or were
+afraid of those whom they made a show of menacing.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;When the Arabs saw themselves out of danger, they slackened their
+course; and as I was less harassed by external violence, I began to
+feel more uneasiness in my mind.&nbsp; After some time we stopped near
+a spring shaded with trees, in a pleasant meadow, where we were set
+upon the ground, and offered such refreshments as our masters were partaking.&nbsp;
+I was suffered to sit with my maids apart from the rest, and none attempted
+to comfort or insult us.&nbsp; Here I first began to feel the full weight
+of my misery.&nbsp; The girls sat weeping in silence, and from time
+to time looked on me for succour.&nbsp; I knew not to what condition
+we were doomed, nor could conjecture where would be the place of our
+captivity, or whence to draw any hope of deliverance.&nbsp; I was in
+the hands of robbers and savages, and had no reason to suppose that
+their pity was more than their justice, or that they would forbear the
+gratification of any ardour of desire or caprice of cruelty.&nbsp; I,
+however, kissed my maids, and endeavoured to pacify them by remarking
+that we were yet treated with decency, and that since we were now carried
+beyond pursuit, there was no danger of violence to our lives.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;When we were to be set again on horseback, my maids clung round
+me, and refused to be parted; but I commanded them not to irritate those
+who had us in their power.&nbsp; We travelled the remaining part of
+the day through an unfrequented and pathless country, and came by moonlight
+to the side of a hill, where the rest of the troop was stationed.&nbsp;
+Their tents were pitched and their fires kindled, and our chief was
+welcomed as a man much beloved by his dependents.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;We were received into a large tent, where we found women who
+had attended their husbands in the expedition.&nbsp; They set before
+us the supper which they had provided, and I ate it rather to encourage
+my maids than to comply with any appetite of my own.&nbsp; When the
+meat was taken away, they spread the carpets for repose.&nbsp; I was
+weary, and hoped to find in sleep that remission of distress which nature
+seldom denies.&nbsp; Ordering myself, therefore, to be undressed, I
+observed that the women looked very earnestly upon me, not expecting,
+I suppose, to see me so submissively attended.&nbsp; When my upper vest
+was taken off, they were apparently struck with the splendour of my
+clothes, and one of them timorously laid her hand upon the embroidery.&nbsp;
+She then went out, and in a short time came back with another woman,
+who seemed to be of higher rank and greater authority.&nbsp; She did,
+at her entrance, the usual act of reverence, and, taking me by the hand
+placed me in a smaller tent, spread with finer carpets, where I spent
+the night quietly with my maids.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;In the morning, as I was sitting on the grass, the chief of the
+troop came towards me.&nbsp; I rose up to receive him, and he bowed
+with great respect.&nbsp; &lsquo;Illustrious lady,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;my
+fortune is better than I had presumed to hope: I am told by my women
+that I have a princess in my camp.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; answered
+I, &lsquo;your women have deceived themselves and you; I am not a princess,
+but an unhappy stranger who intended soon to have left this country,
+in which I am now to be imprisoned for ever.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Whoever
+or whencesoever you are,&rsquo; returned the Arab, &lsquo;your dress
+and that of your servants show your rank to be high and your wealth
+to be great.&nbsp; Why should you, who can so easily procure your ransom,
+think yourself in danger of perpetual captivity?&nbsp; The purpose of
+my incursions is to increase my riches, or, more property, to gather
+tribute.&nbsp; The sons of Ishmael are the natural and hereditary lords
+of this part of the continent, which is usurped by late invaders and
+low-born tyrants, from whom we are compelled to take by the sword what
+is denied to justice.&nbsp; The violence of war admits no distinction:
+the lance that is lifted at guilt and power will sometimes fall on innocence
+and gentleness.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;How little,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;did I expect that yesterday
+it should have fallen upon me!&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&rsquo;Misfortunes,&rsquo; answered the Arab, &lsquo;should always
+be expected.&nbsp; If the eye of hostility could learn reverence or
+pity, excellence like yours had been exempt from injury.&nbsp; But the
+angels of affliction spread their toils alike for the virtuous and the
+wicked, for the mighty and the mean.&nbsp; Do not be disconsolate; I
+am not one of the lawless and cruel rovers of the desert; I know the
+rules of civil life; I will fix your ransom, give a passport to your
+messenger, and perform my stipulation with nice punctuality.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;You will easily believe that I was pleased with his courtesy,
+and finding that his predominant passion was desire for money, I began
+now to think my danger less, for I knew that no sum would be thought
+too great for the release of Pekuah.&nbsp; I told him that he should
+have no reason to charge me with ingratitude if I was used with kindness,
+and that any ransom which could be expected for a maid of common rank
+would be paid, but that he must not persist to rate me as a princess.&nbsp;
+He said he would consider what he should demand, and then, smiling,
+bowed and retired.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Soon after the women came about me, each contending to be more
+officious than the other, and my maids themselves were served with reverence.&nbsp;
+We travelled onward by short journeys.&nbsp; On the fourth day the chief
+told me that my ransom must be two hundred ounces of gold, which I not
+only promised him, but told him that I would add fifty more if I and
+my maids were honourably treated.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I never knew the power of gold before.&nbsp; From that time I
+was the leader of the troop.&nbsp; The march of every day was longer
+or shorter as I commanded, and the tents were pitched where I chose
+to rest.&nbsp; We now had camels and other conveniences for travel;
+my own women were always at my side, and I amused myself with observing
+the manners of the vagrant nations, and with viewing remains of ancient
+edifices, with which these deserted countries appear to have been in
+some distant age lavishly embellished.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The chief of the band was a man far from illiterate: he was able
+to travel by the stars or the compass, and had marked in his erratic
+expeditions such places as are most worthy the notice of a passenger.&nbsp;
+He observed to me that buildings are always best preserved in places
+little frequented and difficult of access; for when once a country declines
+from its primitive splendour, the more inhabitants are left, the quicker
+ruin will be made.&nbsp; Walls supply stones more easily than quarries;
+and palaces and temples will be demolished to make stables of granite
+and cottages of porphyry.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XXXIX - THE ADVENTURES OF PEKUAH (<i>continued</i>).<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;We wandered about in this manner for some weeks, either, as our
+chief pretended, for my gratification, or, as I rather suspected, for
+some convenience of his own.&nbsp; I endeavoured to appear contented
+where sullenness and resentment would have been of no use, and that
+endeavour conduced much to the calmness of my mind; but my heart was
+always with Nekayah, and the troubles of the night much overbalanced
+the amusements of the day.&nbsp; My women, who threw all their cares
+upon their mistress, set their minds at ease from the time when they
+saw me treated with respect, and gave themselves up to the incidental
+alleviations of our fatigue without solicitude or sorrow.&nbsp; I was
+pleased with their pleasure, and animated with their confidence.&nbsp;
+My condition had lost much of its terror, since I found that the Arab
+ranged the country merely to get riches.&nbsp; Avarice is a uniform
+and tractable vice: other intellectual distempers are different in different
+constitutions of mind; that which soothes the pride of one will offend
+the pride of another; but to the favour of the covetous there is a ready
+way - bring money, and nothing is denied.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;At last we came to the dwelling of our chief; a strong and spacious
+house, built with stone in an island of the Nile, which lies, as I was
+told, under the tropic.&nbsp; &lsquo;Lady,&rsquo; said the Arab, &lsquo;you
+shall rest after your journey a few weeks in this place, where you are
+to consider yourself as Sovereign.&nbsp; My occupation is war: I have
+therefore chosen this obscure residence, from which I can issue unexpected,
+and to which I can retire unpursued.&nbsp; You may now repose in security:
+here are few pleasures, but here is no danger.&rsquo;&nbsp; He then
+led me into the inner apartments, and seating me on the richest couch,
+bowed to the ground.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;His women, who considered me as a rival, looked on me with malignity;
+but being soon informed that I was a great lady detained only for my
+ransom, they began to vie with each other in obsequiousness and reverence.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Being again comforted with new assurances of speedy liberty,
+I was for some days diverted from impatience by the novelty of the place.&nbsp;
+The turrets overlooked the country to a great distance, and afforded
+a view of many windings of the stream.&nbsp; In the day I wandered from
+one place to another, as the course of the sun varied the splendour
+of the prospect, and saw many things which I had never seen before.&nbsp;
+The crocodiles and river-horses are common in this unpeopled region;
+and I often looked upon them with terror, though I knew they could not
+hurt me.&nbsp; For some time I expected to see mermaids and tritons,
+which, as Imlac has told me, the European travellers have stationed
+in the Nile; but no such beings ever appeared, and the Arab, when I
+inquired after them, laughed at my credulity.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;At night the Arab always attended me to a tower set apart for
+celestial observations, where he endeavoured to teach me the names and
+courses of the stars.&nbsp; I had no great inclination to this study;
+but an appearance of attention was necessary to please my instructor,
+who valued himself for his skill, and in a little while I found some
+employment requisite to beguile the tediousness of time, which was to
+be passed always amidst the same objects.&nbsp; I was weary of looking
+in the morning on things from which I had turned away weary in the evening:
+I therefore was at last willing to observe the stars rather than do
+nothing, but could not always compose my thoughts, and was very often
+thinking on Nekayah when others imagined me contemplating the sky.&nbsp;
+Soon after, the Arab went upon another expedition, and then my only
+pleasure was to talk with my maids about the accident by which we were
+carried away, and the happiness we should all enjoy at the end of our
+captivity.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;There were women in your Arab&rsquo;s fortress,&rdquo; said the
+Princess; &ldquo;why did you not make them your companions, enjoy their
+conversation, and partake their diversions?&nbsp; In a place where they
+found business or amusement, why should you alone sit corroded with
+idle melancholy? or why could not you bear for a few months that condition
+to which they were condemned for life?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The diversions of the women,&rdquo; answered Pekuah, &ldquo;were
+only childish play, by which the mind accustomed to stronger operations
+could not be kept busy.&nbsp; I could do all which they delighted in
+doing by powers merely sensitive, while my intellectual faculties were
+flown to Cairo.&nbsp; They ran from room to room, as a bird hops from
+wire to wire in his cage.&nbsp; They danced for the sake of motion,
+as lambs frisk in a meadow.&nbsp; One sometimes pretended to be hurt
+that the rest might be alarmed, or hid herself that another might seek
+her.&nbsp; Part of their time passed in watching the progress of light
+bodies that floated on the river, and part in marking the various forms
+into which clouds broke in the sky.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Their business was only needlework, in which I and my maids sometimes
+helped them; but you know that the mind will easily straggle from the
+fingers, nor will you suspect that captivity and absence from Nekayah
+could receive solace from silken flowers.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Nor was much satisfaction to be hoped from their conversation:
+for of what could they be expected to talk?&nbsp; They had seen nothing,
+for they had lived from early youth in that narrow spot: of what they
+had not seen they could have no knowledge, for they could not read.&nbsp;
+They had no idea but of the few things that were within their view,
+and had hardly names for anything but their clothes and their food.&nbsp;
+As I bore a superior character, I was often called to terminate their
+quarrels, which I decided as equitably as I could.&nbsp; If it could
+have amused me to hear the complaints of each against the rest, I might
+have been often detained by long stories; but the motives of their animosity
+were so small that I could not listen without interrupting the tale.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;How,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;can the Arab, whom you represented
+as a man of more than common accomplishments, take any pleasure in his
+seraglio, when it is filled only with women like these?&nbsp; Are they
+exquisitely beautiful?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;They do not,&rdquo; said Pekuah, &ldquo;want that unaffecting
+and ignoble beauty which may subsist without sprightliness or sublimity,
+without energy of thought or dignity of virtue.&nbsp; But to a man like
+the Arab such beauty was only a flower casually plucked and carelessly
+thrown away.&nbsp; Whatever pleasures he might find among them, they
+were not those of friendship or society.&nbsp; When they were playing
+about him he looked on them with inattentive superiority; when they
+vied for his regard he sometimes turned away disgusted.&nbsp; As they
+had no knowledge, their talk could take nothing from the tediousness
+of life; as they had no choice, their fondness, or appearance of fondness,
+excited in him neither pride nor gratitude.&nbsp; He was not exalted
+in his own esteem by the smiles of a woman who saw no other man, nor
+was much obliged by that regard of which he could never know the sincerity,
+and which he might often perceive to be exerted not so much to delight
+him as to pain a rival.&nbsp; That which he gave, and they received,
+as love, was only a careless distribution of superfluous time, such
+love as man can bestow upon that which he despises, such as has neither
+hope nor fear, neither joy nor sorrow.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;You have reason, lady, to think yourself happy,&rdquo; said Imlac,
+&ldquo;that you have been thus easily dismissed.&nbsp; How could a mind,
+hungry for knowledge, be willing, in an intellectual famine, to lose
+such a banquet as Pekuah&rsquo;s conversation?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I am inclined to believe,&rdquo; answered Pekuah, &ldquo;that
+he was for some time in suspense; for, notwithstanding his promise,
+whenever I proposed to despatch a messenger to Cairo he found some excuse
+for delay.&nbsp; While I was detained in his house he made many incursions
+into the neighbouring countries, and perhaps he would have refused to
+discharge me had his plunder been equal to his wishes.&nbsp; He returned
+always courteous, related his adventures, delighted to hear my observations,
+and endeavoured to advance my acquaintance with the stars.&nbsp; When
+I importuned him to send away my letters, he soothed me with professions
+of honour and sincerity; and when I could be no longer decently denied,
+put his troop again in motion, and left me to govern in his absence.&nbsp;
+I was much afflicted by this studied procrastination, and was sometimes
+afraid that I should be forgotten; that you would leave Cairo, and I
+must end my days in an island of the Nile.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I grew at last hopeless and dejected, and cared so little to
+entertain him, that he for a while more frequently talked with my maids.&nbsp;
+That he should fall in love with them or with me, might have been equally
+fatal, and I was not much pleased with the growing friendship.&nbsp;
+My anxiety was not long, for, as I recovered some degree of cheerfulness,
+he returned to me, and I could not forbear to despise my former uneasiness.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;He still delayed to send for my ransom, and would perhaps never
+have determined had not your agent found his way to him.&nbsp; The gold,
+which he would not fetch, he could not reject when it was offered.&nbsp;
+He hastened to prepare for our journey hither, like a man delivered
+from the pain of an intestine conflict.&nbsp; I took leave of my companions
+in the house, who dismissed me with cold indifference.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+Nekayah having heard her favourite&rsquo;s relation, rose and embraced
+her, and Rasselas gave her a hundred ounces of gold, which she presented
+to the Arab for the fifty that were promised.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XL - THE HISTORY OF A MAN OF LEARNING.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+They returned to Cairo, and were so well pleased at finding themselves
+together that none of them went much abroad.&nbsp; The Prince began
+to love learning, and one day declared to Imlac that he intended to
+devote himself to science and pass the rest of his days in literary
+solitude.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Before you make your final choice,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;you
+ought to examine its hazards, and converse with some of those who are
+grown old in the company of themselves.&nbsp; I have just left the observatory
+of one of the most learned astronomers in the world, who has spent forty
+years in unwearied attention to the motion and appearances of the celestial
+bodies, and has drawn out his soul in endless calculations.&nbsp; He
+admits a few friends once a month to hear his deductions and enjoy his
+discoveries.&nbsp; I was introduced as a man of knowledge worthy of
+his notice.&nbsp; Men of various ideas and fluent conversation are commonly
+welcome to those whose thoughts have been long fixed upon a single point,
+and who find the images of other things stealing away.&nbsp; I delighted
+him with my remarks.&nbsp; He smiled at the narrative of my travels,
+and was glad to forget the constellations and descend for a moment into
+the lower world.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;On the next day of vacation I renewed my visit, and was so fortunate
+as to please him again.&nbsp; He relaxed from that time the severity
+of his rule, and permitted me to enter at my own choice.&nbsp; I found
+him always busy, and always glad to be relieved.&nbsp; As each knew
+much which the other was desirous of learning, we exchanged our notions
+with great delight.&nbsp; I perceived that I had every day more of his
+confidence, and always found new cause of admiration in the profundity
+of his mind.&nbsp; His comprehension is vast, his memory capacious and
+retentive, his discourse is methodical, and his expression clear.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;His integrity and benevolence are equal to his learning.&nbsp;
+His deepest researches and most favourite studies are willingly interrupted
+for any opportunity of doing good by his counsel or his riches.&nbsp;
+To his closest retreat, at his most busy moments, all are admitted that
+want his assistance; &lsquo;For though I exclude idleness and pleasure,
+I will never,&rsquo; says he, &lsquo;bar my doors against charity.&nbsp;
+To man is permitted the contemplation of the skies, but the practice
+of virtue is commanded.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;this man is happy.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I visited him,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;with more and more frequency,
+and was every time more enamoured of his conversation; he was sublime
+without haughtiness, courteous without formality, and communicative
+without ostentation.&nbsp; I was at first, great Princess, of your opinion,
+thought him the happiest of mankind, and often congratulated him on
+the blessing that he enjoyed.&nbsp; He seemed to hear nothing with indifference
+but the praises of his condition, to which he always returned a general
+answer, and diverted the conversation to some other topic.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Amidst this willingness to be pleased and labour to please, I
+had quickly reason to imagine that some painful sentiment pressed upon
+his mind.&nbsp; He often looked up earnestly towards the sun, and let
+his voice fall in the midst of his discourse.&nbsp; He would sometimes,
+when we were alone, gaze upon me in silence with the air of a man who
+longed to speak what he was yet resolved to suppress.&nbsp; He would
+often send for me with vehement injunction of haste, though when I came
+to him he had nothing extraordinary to say; and sometimes, when I was
+leaving him, would call me back, pause a few moments, and then dismiss
+me.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLI - THE ASTRONOMER DISCOVERS THE CAUSE OF HIS UNEASINESS.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;At last the time came when the secret burst his reserve.&nbsp;
+We were sitting together last night in the turret of his house watching
+the immersion of a satellite of Jupiter.&nbsp; A sudden tempest clouded
+the sky and disappointed our observation.&nbsp; We sat awhile silent
+in the dark, and then he addressed himself to me in these words: &lsquo;Imlac,
+I have long considered thy friendship as the greatest blessing of my
+life.&nbsp; Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, and knowledge
+without integrity is dangerous and dreadful.&nbsp; I have found in thee
+all the qualities requisite for trust - benevolence, experience, and
+fortitude.&nbsp; I have long discharged an office which I must soon
+quit at the call of Nature, and shall rejoice in the hour of imbecility
+and pain to devolve it upon thee.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I thought myself honoured by this testimony, and protested that
+whatever could conduce to his happiness would add likewise to mine.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Hear, Imlac, what thou wilt not without difficulty credit.&nbsp;
+I have possessed for five years the regulation of the weather and the
+distribution of the seasons.&nbsp; The sun has listened to my dictates,
+and passed from tropic to tropic by my direction; the clouds at my call
+have poured their waters, and the Nile has overflowed at my command.&nbsp;
+I have restrained the rage of the dog-star, and mitigated the fervours
+of the crab.&nbsp; The winds alone, of all the elemental powers, have
+hitherto refused my authority, and multitudes have perished by equinoctial
+tempests which I found myself unable to prohibit or restrain.&nbsp;
+I have administered this great office with exact justice, and made to
+the different nations of the earth an impartial dividend of rain and
+sunshine.&nbsp; What must have been the misery of half the globe if
+I had limited the clouds to particular regions, or confined the sun
+to either side of the equator?&rsquo;&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLII - THE OPINION OF THE ASTRONOMER IS EXPLAINED AND JUSTIFIED.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I suppose he discovered in me, through the obscurity of the room,
+some tokens of amazement and doubt, for after a short pause he proceeded
+thus:-<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Not to be easily credited will neither surprise nor offend
+me, for I am probably the first of human beings to whom this trust has
+been imparted.&nbsp; Nor do I know whether to deem this distinction
+a reward or punishment.&nbsp; Since I have possessed it I have been
+far less happy than before, and nothing but the consciousness of good
+intention could have enabled me to support the weariness of unremitted
+vigilance.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;How long, sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;has this great office
+been in your hands?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;About ten years ago,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;my daily observations
+of the changes of the sky led me to consider whether, if I had the power
+of the seasons, I could confer greater plenty upon the inhabitants of
+the earth.&nbsp; This contemplation fastened on my mind, and I sat days
+and nights in imaginary dominion, pouring upon this country and that
+the showers of fertility, and seconding every fall of rain with a due
+proportion of sunshine.&nbsp; I had yet only the will to do good, and
+did not imagine that I should ever have the power.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;One day as I was looking on the fields withering with
+heat, I felt in my mind a sudden wish that I could send rain on the
+southern mountains, and raise the Nile to an inundation.&nbsp; In the
+hurry of my imagination I commanded rain to fall; and by comparing the
+time of my command with that of the inundation, I found that the clouds
+had listened to my lips.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Might not some other cause,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;produce
+this concurrence?&nbsp; The Nile does not always rise on the same day.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Do not believe,&rsquo; said he, with impatience, &lsquo;that
+such objections could escape me.&nbsp; I reasoned long against my own
+conviction, and laboured against truth with the utmost obstinacy.&nbsp;
+I sometimes suspected myself of madness, and should not have dared to
+impart this secret but to a man like you, capable of distinguishing
+the wonderful from the impossible, and the incredible from the false.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Why, sir,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;do you call that incredible
+which you know, or think you know, to be true?&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Because,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;I cannot prove it by any
+external evidence; and I know too well the laws of demonstration to
+think that my conviction ought to influence another, who cannot, like
+me, be conscious of its force.&nbsp; I therefore shall not attempt to
+gain credit by disputation.&nbsp; It is sufficient that I feel this
+power that I have long possessed, and every day exerted it.&nbsp; But
+the life of man is short; the infirmities of age increase upon me, and
+the time will soon come when the regulator of the year must mingle with
+the dust.&nbsp; The care of appointing a successor has long disturbed
+me; the night and the day have been spent in comparisons of all the
+characters which have come to my knowledge, and I have yet found none
+so worthy as thyself.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLIII - THE ASTRONOMER LEAVES IMLAC HIS DIRECTIONS.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Hear, therefore, what I shall impart with attention, such
+as the welfare of a world requires.&nbsp; If the task of a king be considered
+as difficult, who has the care only of a few millions, to whom he cannot
+do much good or harm, what must be the anxiety of him on whom depends
+the action of the elements and the great gifts of light and heat?&nbsp;
+Hear me, therefore, with attention.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;I have diligently considered the position of the earth
+and sun, and formed innumerable schemes, in which I changed their situation.&nbsp;
+I have sometimes turned aside the axis of the earth, and sometimes varied
+the ecliptic of the sun, but I have found it impossible to make a disposition
+by which the world may be advantaged; what one region gains another
+loses by an imaginable alteration, even without considering the distant
+parts of the solar system with which we are acquainted.&nbsp; Do not,
+therefore, in thy administration of the year, indulge thy pride by innovation;
+do not please thyself with thinking that thou canst make thyself renowned
+to all future ages by disordering the seasons.&nbsp; The memory of mischief
+is no desirable fame.&nbsp; Much less will it become thee to let kindness
+or interest prevail.&nbsp; Never rob other countries of rain to pour
+it on thine own.&nbsp; For us the Nile is sufficient.&rsquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I promised that when I possessed the power I would use it with
+inflexible integrity; and he dismissed me, pressing my hand.&nbsp; &lsquo;My
+heart,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;will be now at rest, and my benevolence
+will no more destroy my quiet; I have found a man of wisdom and virtue,
+to whom I can cheerfully bequeath the inheritance of the sun.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Prince heard this narration with very serious regard; but the Princess
+smiled, and Pekuah convulsed herself with laughter.&nbsp; &ldquo;Ladies,&rdquo;
+said Imlac, &ldquo;to mock the heaviest of human afflictions is neither
+charitable nor wise.&nbsp; Few can attain this man&rsquo;s knowledge
+and few practise his virtues, but all may suffer his calamity.&nbsp;
+Of the uncertainties of our present state, the most dreadful and alarming
+is the uncertain continuance of reason.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Princess was recollected, and the favourite was abashed.&nbsp; Rasselas,
+more deeply affected, inquired of Imlac whether he thought such maladies
+of the mind frequent, and how they were contracted.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLIV - THE DANGEROUS PREVALENCE OF IMAGINATION.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Disorders of intellect,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;happen
+much more often than superficial observers will easily believe.&nbsp;
+Perhaps if we speak with rigorous exactness, no human mind is in its
+right state.&nbsp; There is no man whose imagination does not sometimes
+predominate over his reason who can regulate his attention wholly by
+his will, and whose ideas will come and go at his command.&nbsp; No
+man will be found in whose mind airy notions do not sometimes tyrannise,
+and force him to hope or fear beyond the limits of sober probability.&nbsp;
+All power of fancy over reason is a degree of insanity, but while this
+power is such as we can control and repress it is not visible to others,
+nor considered as any deprivation of the mental faculties; it is not
+pronounced madness but when it becomes ungovernable, and apparently
+influences speech or action.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;To indulge the power of fiction and send imagination out upon
+the wing is often the sport of those who delight too much in silent
+speculation.&nbsp; When we are alone we are not always busy; the labour
+of excogitation is too violent to last long; the ardour of inquiry will
+sometimes give way to idleness or satiety.&nbsp; He who has nothing
+external that can divert him must find pleasure in his own thoughts,
+and must conceive himself what he is not; for who is pleased with what
+he is?&nbsp; He then expatiates in boundless futurity, and culls from
+all imaginable conditions that which for the present moment he should
+most desire, amuses his desires with impossible enjoyments, and confers
+upon his pride unattainable dominion.&nbsp; The mind dances from scene
+to scene, unites all pleasures in all combinations, and riots in delights
+which Nature and fortune, with all their bounty, cannot bestow.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;In time some particular train of ideas fixes the attention; all
+other intellectual gratifications are rejected; the mind, in weariness
+or leisure, recurs constantly to the favourite conception, and feasts
+on the luscious falsehood whenever she is offended with the bitterness
+of truth.&nbsp; By degrees the reign of fancy is confirmed; she grows
+first imperious and in time despotic.&nbsp; Then fictions begin to operate
+as realities, false opinions fasten upon the mind, and life passes in
+dreams of rapture or of anguish.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;This, sir, is one of the dangers of solitude, which the hermit
+has confessed not always to promote goodness, and the astronomer&rsquo;s
+misery has proved to be not always propitious to wisdom.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I will no more,&rdquo; said the favourite, &ldquo;imagine myself
+the Queen of Abyssinia.&nbsp; I have often spent the hours which the
+Princess gave to my own disposal in adjusting ceremonies and regulating
+the Court; I have repressed the pride of the powerful and granted the
+petitions of the poor; I have built new palaces in more happy situations,
+planted groves upon the tops of mountains, and have exulted in the beneficence
+of royalty, till, when the Princess entered, I had almost forgotten
+to bow down before her.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;And I,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;will not allow myself
+any more to play the shepherdess in my waking dreams.&nbsp; I have often
+soothed my thoughts with the quiet and innocence of pastoral employments,
+till I have in my chamber heard the winds whistle and the sheep bleat;
+sometimes freed the lamb entangled in the thicket, and sometimes with
+my crook encountered the wolf.&nbsp; I have a dress like that of the
+village maids, which I put on to help my imagination, and a pipe on
+which I play softly, and suppose myself followed by my flocks.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I will confess,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;an indulgence
+of fantastic delight more dangerous than yours.&nbsp; I have frequently
+endeavoured to imagine the possibility of a perfect government, by which
+all wrong should be restrained, all vice reformed, and all the subjects
+preserved in tranquillity and innocence.&nbsp; This thought produced
+innumerable schemes of reformation, and dictated many useful regulations
+and salutary effects.&nbsp; This has been the sport and sometimes the
+labour of my solitude, and I start when I think with how little anguish
+I once supposed the death of my father and my brothers.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Such,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;are the effects of visionary
+schemes.&nbsp; When we first form them, we know them to be absurd, but
+familiarise them by degrees, and in time lose sight of their folly.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLV - THEY DISCOURSE WITH AN OLD MAN.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The evening was now far past, and they rose to return home.&nbsp; As
+they walked along the banks of the Nile, delighted with the beams of
+the moon quivering on the water, they saw at a small distance an old
+man whom the Prince had often heard in the assembly of the sages.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Yonder,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is one whose years have calmed
+his passions, but not clouded his reason.&nbsp; Let us close the disquisitions
+of the night by inquiring what are his sentiments of his own state,
+that we may know whether youth alone is to struggle with vexation, and
+whether any better hope remains for the latter part of life.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+Here the sage approached and saluted them.&nbsp; They invited him to
+join their walk, and prattled awhile as acquaintance that had unexpectedly
+met one another.&nbsp; The old man was cheerful and talkative, and the
+way seemed short in his company.&nbsp; He was pleased to find himself
+not disregarded, accompanied them to their house, and, at the Prince&rsquo;s
+request, entered with them.&nbsp; They placed him in the seat of honour,
+and set wine and conserves before him.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;an evening walk must give
+to a man of learning like you pleasures which ignorance and youth can
+hardly conceive.&nbsp; You know the qualities and the causes of all
+that you behold - the laws by which the river flows, the periods in
+which the planets perform their revolutions.&nbsp; Everything must supply
+you with contemplation, and renew the consciousness of your own dignity.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Lady,&rdquo; answered he, &ldquo;let the gay and the vigorous
+expect pleasure in their excursions: it is enough that age can attain
+ease.&nbsp; To me the world has lost its novelty.&nbsp; I look round,
+and see what I remember to have seen in happier days.&nbsp; I rest against
+a tree, and consider that in the same shade I once disputed upon the
+annual overflow of the Nile with a friend who is now silent in the grave.&nbsp;
+I cast my eyes upwards, fix them on the changing moon, and think with
+pain on the vicissitudes of life.&nbsp; I have ceased to take much delight
+in physical truth; for what have I to do with those things which I am
+soon to leave?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;You may at least recreate yourself,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;with
+the recollection of an honourable and useful life, and enjoy the praise
+which all agree to give you.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Praise,&rdquo; said the sage with a sigh, &ldquo;is to an old
+man an empty sound.&nbsp; I have neither mother to be delighted with
+the reputation of her son, nor wife to partake the honours of her husband.&nbsp;
+I have outlived my friends and my rivals.&nbsp; Nothing is now of much
+importance; for I cannot extend my interest beyond myself.&nbsp; Youth
+is delighted with applause, because it is considered as the earnest
+of some future good, and because the prospect of life is far extended;
+but to me, who am now declining to decrepitude, there is little to be
+feared from the malevolence of men, and yet less to be hoped from their
+affection or esteem.&nbsp; Something they may yet take away, but they
+can give me nothing.&nbsp; Riches would now be useless, and high employment
+would be pain.&nbsp; My retrospect of life recalls to my view many opportunities
+of good neglected, much time squandered upon trifles, and more lost
+in idleness and vacancy.&nbsp; I leave many great designs unattempted,
+and many great attempts unfinished.&nbsp; My mind is burdened with no
+heavy crime, and therefore I compose myself to tranquillity; endeavour
+to abstract my thoughts from hopes and cares which, though reason knows
+them to be vain, still try to keep their old possession of the heart;
+expect, with serene humility, that hour which nature cannot long delay,
+and hope to possess in a better state that happiness which here I could
+not find, and that virtue which here I have not attained.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+He arose and went away, leaving his audience not much elated with the
+hope of long life.&nbsp; The Prince consoled himself with remarking
+that it was not reasonable to be disappointed by this account; for age
+had never been considered as the season of felicity, and if it was possible
+to be easy in decline and weakness, it was likely that the days of vigour
+and alacrity might be happy; that the noon of life might be bright,
+if the evening could be calm.<br>
+<br>
+The Princess suspected that age was querulous and malignant, and delighted
+to repress the expectations of those who had newly entered the world.&nbsp;
+She had seen the possessors of estates look with envy on their heirs,
+and known many who enjoyed pleasures no longer than they could confine
+it to themselves.<br>
+<br>
+Pekuah conjectured that the man was older than he appeared, and was
+willing to impute his complaints to delirious dejection; or else supposed
+that he had been unfortunate, and was therefore discontented.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;For nothing,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;is more common than to call
+our own condition the condition of life.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+Imlac, who had no desire to see them depressed, smiled at the comforts
+which they could so readily procure to themselves; and remembered that
+at the same age he was equally confident of unmingled prosperity, and
+equally fertile of consolatory expedients.&nbsp; He forbore to force
+upon them unwelcome knowledge, which time itself would too soon impress.&nbsp;
+The Princess and her lady retired; the madness of the astronomer hung
+upon their minds; and they desired Imlac to enter upon his office, and
+delay next morning the rising of the sun.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLVI - THE PRINCESS AND PEKUAH VISIT THE ASTRONOMER.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+The Princess and Pekuah, having talked in private of Imlac&rsquo;s astronomer,
+thought his character at once so amiable and so strange that they could
+not be satisfied without a nearer knowledge, and Imlac was requested
+to find the means of bringing them together.<br>
+<br>
+This was somewhat difficult.&nbsp; The philosopher had never received
+any visits from women, though he lived in a city that had in it many
+Europeans, who followed the manners of their own countries, and many
+from other parts of the world, that lived there with European liberty.&nbsp;
+The ladies would not be refused, and several schemes were proposed for
+the accomplishment of their design.&nbsp; It was proposed to introduce
+them as strangers in distress, to whom the sage was always accessible;
+but after some deliberation it appeared that by this artifice no acquaintance
+could be formed, for their conversation would be short, and they could
+not decently importune him often.&nbsp; &ldquo;This,&rdquo; said Rasselas,
+&ldquo;is true; but I have yet a stronger objection against the misrepresentation
+of your state.&nbsp; I have always considered it as treason against
+the great republic of human nature to make any man&rsquo;s virtues the
+means of deceiving him, whether on great or little occasions.&nbsp;
+All imposture weakens confidence and chills benevolence.&nbsp; When
+the sage finds that you are not what you seemed, he will feel the resentment
+natural to a man who, conscious of great abilities, discovers that he
+has been tricked by understandings meaner than his own, and perhaps
+the distrust which he can never afterwards wholly lay aside may stop
+the voice of counsel and close the hand of charity; and where will you
+find the power of restoring his benefactions to mankind, or his peace
+to himself?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+To this no reply was attempted, and Imlac began to hope that their curiosity
+would subside; but next day Pekuah told him she had now found an honest
+pretence for a visit to the astronomer, for she would solicit permission
+to continue under him the studies in which she had been initiated by
+the Arab, and the Princess might go with her, either as a fellow-student,
+or because a woman could not decently come alone.&nbsp; &ldquo;I am
+afraid,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;that he will soon be weary of your
+company.&nbsp; Men advanced far in knowledge do not love to repeat the
+elements of their art, and I am not certain that even of the elements,
+as he will deliver them, connected with inferences and mingled with
+reflections, you are a very capable auditress.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;That,&rdquo;
+said Pekuah, &ldquo;must be my care.&nbsp; I ask of you only to take
+me thither.&nbsp; My knowledge is perhaps more than you imagine it,
+and by concurring always with his opinions I shall make him think it
+greater than it is.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The astronomer, in pursuance of this resolution, was told that a foreign
+lady, travelling in search of knowledge, had heard of his reputation,
+and was desirous to become his scholar.&nbsp; The uncommonness of the
+proposal raised at once his surprise and curiosity, and when after a
+short deliberation he consented to admit her, he could not stay without
+impatience till the next day.<br>
+<br>
+The ladies dressed themselves magnificently, and were attended by Imlac
+to the astronomer, who was pleased to see himself approached with respect
+by persons of so splendid an appearance.&nbsp; In the exchange of the
+first civilities he was timorous and bashful; but when the talk became
+regular, he recollected his powers, and justified the character which
+Imlac had given.&nbsp; Inquiring of Pekuah what could have turned her
+inclination towards astronomy, he received from her a history of her
+adventure at the Pyramid, and of the time passed in the Arab&rsquo;s
+island.&nbsp; She told her tale with ease and elegance, and her conversation
+took possession of his heart.&nbsp; The discourse was then turned to
+astronomy.&nbsp; Pekuah displayed what she knew.&nbsp; He looked upon
+her as a prodigy of genius, and entreated her not to desist from a study
+which she had so happily begun.<br>
+<br>
+They came again and again, and were every time more welcome than before.&nbsp;
+The sage endeavoured to amuse them, that they might prolong their visits,
+for he found his thoughts grow brighter in their company; the clouds
+of solitude vanished by degrees as he forced himself to entertain them,
+and he grieved when he was left, at their departure, to his old employment
+of regulating the seasons.<br>
+<br>
+The Princess and her favourite had now watched his lips for several
+months, and could not catch a single word from which they could judge
+whether he continued or not in the opinion of his preternatural commission.&nbsp;
+They often contrived to bring him to an open declaration; but he easily
+eluded all their attacks, and, on which side soever they pressed him,
+escaped from them to some other topic.<br>
+<br>
+As their familiarity increased, they invited him often to the house
+of Imlac, where they distinguished him by extraordinary respect.&nbsp;
+He began gradually to delight in sublunary pleasures.&nbsp; He came
+early and departed late; laboured to recommend himself by assiduity
+and compliance; excited their curiosity after new arts, that they might
+still want his assistance; and when they made any excursion of pleasure
+or inquiry, entreated to attend them.<br>
+<br>
+By long experience of his integrity and wisdom, the Prince and his sister
+were convinced that he might be trusted without danger; and lest he
+should draw any false hopes from the civilities which he received, discovered
+to him their condition, with the motives of their journey, and required
+his opinion on the choice of life.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Of the various conditions which the world spreads before you
+which you shall prefer,&rdquo; said the sage, &ldquo;I am not able to
+instruct you.&nbsp; I can only tell that I have chosen wrong.&nbsp;
+I have passed my time in study without experience - in the attainment
+of sciences which can for the most part be but remotely useful to mankind.&nbsp;
+I have purchased knowledge at the expense of all the common comforts
+of life; I have missed the endearing elegance of female friendship,
+and the happy commerce of domestic tenderness.&nbsp; If I have obtained
+any prerogatives above other students, they have been accompanied with
+fear, disquiet, and scrupulosity; but even of these prerogatives, whatever
+they were, I have, since my thoughts have been diversified by more intercourse
+with the world, begun to question the reality.&nbsp; When I have been
+for a few days lost in pleasing dissipation, I am always tempted to
+think that my inquiries have ended in error, and that I have suffered
+much, and suffered it in vain.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+Imlac was delighted to find that the sage&rsquo;s understanding was
+breaking through its mists, and resolved to detain him from the planets
+till he should forget his task of ruling them, and reason should recover
+its original influence.<br>
+<br>
+From this time the astronomer was received into familiar friendship,
+and partook of all their projects and pleasures; his respect kept him
+attentive, and the activity of Rasselas did not leave much time unengaged.&nbsp;
+Something was always to be done; the day was spent in making observations,
+which furnished talk for the evening, and the evening was closed with
+a scheme for the morrow.<br>
+<br>
+The sage confessed to Imlac that since he had mingled in the gay tumults
+of life, and divided his hours by a succession of amusements, he found
+the conviction of his authority over the skies fade gradually from his
+mind, and began to trust less to an opinion which he never could prove
+to others, and which he now found subject to variation, from causes
+in which reason had no part.&nbsp; &ldquo;If I am accidentally left
+alone for a few hours,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;my inveterate persuasion
+rushes upon my soul, and my thoughts are chained down by some irresistible
+violence; but they are soon disentangled by the Prince&rsquo;s conversation,
+and instantaneously released at the entrance of Pekuah.&nbsp; I am like
+a man habitually afraid of spectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and
+wonders at the dread which harassed him in the dark; yet, if his lamp
+be extinguished, feels again the terrors which he knows that when it
+is light he shall feel no more.&nbsp; But I am sometimes afraid, lest
+I indulge my quiet by criminal negligence, and voluntarily forget the
+great charge with which I am entrusted.&nbsp; If I favour myself in
+a known error, or am determined by my own ease in a doubtful question
+of this importance, how dreadful is my crime!&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;No disease of the imagination,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;is
+so difficult of cure as that which is complicated with the dread of
+guilt; fancy and conscience then act interchangeably upon us, and so
+often shift their places, that the illusions of one are not distinguished
+from the dictates of the other.&nbsp; If fancy presents images not moral
+or religious, the mind drives them away when they give it pain; but
+when melancholy notions take the form of duty, they lay hold on the
+faculties without opposition, because we are afraid to exclude or banish
+them.&nbsp; For this reason the superstitious are often melancholy,
+and the melancholy almost always superstitious.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;But do not let the suggestions of timidity overpower your better
+reason; the danger of neglect can be but as the probability of the obligation,
+which, when you consider it with freedom, you find very little, and
+that little growing every day less.&nbsp; Open your heart to the influence
+of the light, which from time to time breaks in upon you; when scruples
+importune you, which you in your lucid moments know to be vain, do not
+stand to parley, but fly to business or to Pekuah; and keep this thought
+always prevalent, that you are only one atom of the mass of humanity,
+and have neither such virtue nor vice as that you should be singled
+out for supernatural favours or afflictions.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLVII - THE PRINCE ENTERS, AND BRINGS A NEW TOPIC.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;All this,&rdquo; said the astronomer, &ldquo;I have often thought;
+but my reason has been so long subjugated by an uncontrollable and overwhelming
+idea, that it durst not confide in its own decisions.&nbsp; I now see
+how fatally I betrayed my quiet, by suffering chimeras to prey upon
+me in secret; but melancholy shrinks from communication, and I never
+found a man before to whom I could impart my troubles, though I had
+been certain of relief.&nbsp; I rejoice to find my own sentiments confirmed
+by yours, who are not easily deceived, and can have no motive or purpose
+to deceive.&nbsp; I hope that time and variety will dissipate the gloom
+that has so long surrounded me, and the latter part of my days will
+be spent in peace.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Your learning and virtue,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;may justly
+give you hopes.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+Rasselas then entered, with the Princess and Pekuah, and inquired whether
+they had contrived any new diversion for the next day.&nbsp; &ldquo;Such,&rdquo;
+said Nekayah, &ldquo;is the state of life, that none are happy but by
+the anticipation of change; the change itself is nothing; when we have
+made it the next wish is to change again.&nbsp; The world is not yet
+exhausted: let me see something to-morrow which I never saw before.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Variety,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;is so necessary to content,
+that even the Happy Valley disgusted me by the recurrence of its luxuries;
+yet I could not forbear to reproach myself with impatience when I saw
+the monks of St. Anthony support, without complaint, a life, not of
+uniform delight, but uniform hardship.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Those men,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;are less wretched in
+their silent convent than the Abyssinian princes in their prison of
+pleasure.&nbsp; Whatever is done by the monks is incited by an adequate
+and reasonable motive.&nbsp; Their labour supplies them with necessaries;
+it therefore cannot be omitted, and is certainly rewarded.&nbsp; Their
+devotion prepares them for another state, and reminds them of its approach
+while it fits them for it.&nbsp; Their time is regularly distributed;
+one duty succeeds another, so that they are not left open to the distraction
+of unguided choice, nor lost in the shades of listless inactivity.&nbsp;
+There is a certain task to be performed at an appropriated hour, and
+their toils are cheerful, because they consider them as acts of piety
+by which they are always advancing towards endless felicity.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Do you think,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;that the monastic rule
+is a more holy and less imperfect state than any other?&nbsp; May not
+he equally hope for future happiness who converses openly with mankind,
+who succours the distressed by his charity, instructs the ignorant by
+his learning, and contributes by his industry to the general system
+of life, even though he should omit some of the mortifications which
+are practised in the cloister, and allow himself such harmless delights
+as his condition may place within his reach?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;This,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is a question which has long
+divided the wise and perplexed the good.&nbsp; I am afraid to decide
+on either part.&nbsp; He that lives well in the world is better than
+he that lives well in a monastery.&nbsp; But perhaps everyone is not
+able to stem the temptations of public life, and if he cannot conquer
+he may properly retreat.&nbsp; Some have little power to do good, and
+have likewise little strength to resist evil.&nbsp; Many are weary of
+the conflicts with adversity, and are willing to eject those passions
+which have long busied them in vain.&nbsp; And many are dismissed by
+age and diseases from the more laborious duties of society.&nbsp; In
+monasteries the weak and timorous may be happily sheltered, the weary
+may repose, and the penitent may meditate.&nbsp; Those retreats of prayer
+and contemplation have something so congenial to the mind of man, that
+perhaps there is scarcely one that does not purpose to close his life
+in pious abstraction, with a few associates serious as himself.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Such,&rdquo; said Pekuah, &ldquo;has often been my wish, and
+I have heard the Princess declare that she should not willingly die
+in a crowd.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The liberty of using harmless pleasures,&rdquo; proceeded Imlac,
+&ldquo;will not be disputed, but it is still to be examined what pleasures
+are harmless.&nbsp; The evil of any pleasure that Nekayah can image
+is not in the act itself but in its consequences.&nbsp; Pleasure in
+itself harmless may become mischievous by endearing to us a state which
+we know to be transient and probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts
+from that of which every hour brings us nearer to the beginning, and
+of which no length of time will bring us to the end.&nbsp; Mortification
+is not virtuous in itself, nor has any other use but that it disengages
+us from the allurements of sense.&nbsp; In the state of future perfection
+to which we all aspire there will be pleasure without danger and security
+without restraint.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The Princess was silent, and Rasselas, turning to the astronomer, asked
+him whether he could not delay her retreat by showing her something
+which she had not seen before.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Your curiosity,&rdquo; said the sage, &ldquo;has been so general,
+and your pursuit of knowledge so vigorous, that novelties are not now
+very easily to be found; but what you can no longer procure from the
+living may be given by the dead.&nbsp; Among the wonders of this country
+are the catacombs, or the ancient repositories in which the bodies of
+the earliest generations were lodged, and where, by the virtue of the
+gums which embalmed them, they yet remain without corruption.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;what pleasure the sight
+of the catacombs can afford; but, since nothing else is offered, I am
+resolved to view them, and shall place this with my other things which
+I have done because I would do something.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+They hired a guard of horsemen, and the next day visited the catacombs.&nbsp;
+When they were about to descend into the sepulchral caves, &ldquo;Pekuah,&rdquo;
+said the Princess, &ldquo;we are now again invading the habitations
+of the dead; I know that you will stay behind.&nbsp; Let me find you
+safe when I return.&rdquo;&nbsp; &ldquo;No, I will not be left,&rdquo;
+answered Pekuah, &ldquo;I will go down between you and the Prince.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+They then all descended, and roved with wonder through the labyrinth
+of subterraneous passages, where the bodies were laid in rows on either
+side.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLVIII - IMLAC DISCOURSES ON THE NATURE OF THE SOUL.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;What reason,&rdquo; said the Prince, &ldquo;can be given why
+the Egyptians should thus expensively preserve those carcases which
+some nations consume with fire, others lay to mingle with the earth,
+and all agree to remove from their sight as soon as decent rites can
+be performed?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The original of ancient customs,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;is
+commonly unknown, for the practice often continues when the cause has
+ceased; and concerning superstitious ceremonies it is vain to conjecture;
+for what reason did not dictate, reason cannot explain.&nbsp; I have
+long believed that the practice of embalming arose only from tenderness
+to the remains of relations or friends; and to this opinion I am more
+inclined because it seems impossible that this care should have been
+general; had all the dead been embalmed, their repositories must in
+time have been more spacious than the dwellings of the living.&nbsp;
+I suppose only the rich or honourable were secured from corruption,
+and the rest left to the course of nature.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;But it is commonly supposed that the Egyptians believed the soul
+to live as long as the body continued undissolved, and therefore tried
+this method of eluding death.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Could the wise Egyptians,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;think so
+grossly of the soul?&nbsp; If the soul could once survive its separation,
+what could it afterwards receive or suffer from the body?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;The Egyptians would doubtless think erroneously,&rdquo; said
+the astronomer, &ldquo;in the darkness of heathenism and the first dawn
+of philosophy.&nbsp; The nature of the soul is still disputed amidst
+all our opportunities of clearer knowledge; some yet say that it may
+be material, who, nevertheless, believe it to be immortal.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Some,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;have indeed said that the
+soul is material, but I can scarcely believe that any man has thought
+it who knew how to think; for all the conclusions of reason enforce
+the immateriality of mind, and all the notices of sense and investigations
+of science concur to prove the unconsciousness of matter.<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;It was never supposed that cogitation is inherent in matter,
+or that every particle is a thinking being.&nbsp; Yet if any part of
+matter be devoid of thought, what part can we suppose to think?&nbsp;
+Matter can differ from matter only in form, density, bulk, motion, and
+direction of motion.&nbsp; To which of these, however varied or combined,
+can consciousness be annexed?&nbsp; To be round or square, to be solid
+or fluid, to be great or little, to be moved slowly or swiftly, one
+way or another, are modes of material existence all equally alien from
+the nature of cogitation.&nbsp; If matter be once without thought, it
+can only be made to think by some new modification; but all the modifications
+which it can admit are equally unconnected with cogitative powers.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;But the materialists,&rdquo; said the astronomer, &ldquo;urge
+that matter may have qualities with which we are unacquainted.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;He who will determine,&rdquo; returned Imlac, &ldquo;against
+that which he knows because there may be something which he knows not;
+he that can set hypothetical possibility against acknowledged certainty,
+is not to be admitted among reasonable beings.&nbsp; All that we know
+of matter is, that matter is inert, senseless, and lifeless; and if
+this conviction cannot he opposed but by referring us to something that
+we know not, we have all the evidence that human intellect can admit.&nbsp;
+If that which is known may be overruled by that which is unknown, no
+being, not omniscient, can arrive at certainty.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Yet let us not,&rdquo; said the astronomer, &ldquo;too arrogantly
+limit the Creator&rsquo;s power.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;It is no limitation of Omnipotence,&rdquo; replied the poet,
+&ldquo;to suppose that one thing is not consistent with another, that
+the same proposition cannot be at once true and false, that the same
+number cannot be even and odd, that cogitation cannot be conferred on
+that which is created incapable of cogitation.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;any great use of this
+question.&nbsp; Does that immateriality, which in my opinion you have
+sufficiently proved, necessarily include eternal duration?&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Of immateriality,&rdquo; said Imlac, &ldquo;our ideas are negative,
+and therefore obscure.&nbsp; Immateriality seems to imply a natural
+power of perpetual duration as a consequence of exemption from all causes
+of decay: whatever perishes is destroyed by the solution of its contexture
+and separation of its parts; nor can we conceive how that which has
+no parts, and therefore admits no solution, can be naturally corrupted
+or impaired.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;how to conceive anything
+without extension: what is extended must have parts, and you allow that
+whatever has parts may be destroyed.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;Consider your own conceptions,&rdquo; replied Imlac, &ldquo;and
+the difficulty will be less.&nbsp; You will find substance without extension.&nbsp;
+An ideal form is no less real than material bulk; yet an ideal form
+has no extension.&nbsp; It is no less certain, when you think on a pyramid,
+that your mind possesses the idea of a pyramid, than that the pyramid
+itself is standing.&nbsp; What space does the idea of a pyramid occupy
+more than the idea of a grain of corn? or how can either idea suffer
+laceration?&nbsp; As is the effect, such is the cause; as thought, such
+is the power that thinks, a power impassive and indiscerptible.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;But the Being,&rdquo; said Nekayah, &ldquo;whom I fear to name,
+the Being which made the soul, can destroy it.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;He surely can destroy it,&rdquo; answered Imlac, &ldquo;since,
+however imperishable, it receives from a superior nature its power of
+duration.&nbsp; That it will not perish by any inherent cause of decay
+or principle of corruption, may be shown by philosophy; but philosophy
+can tell no more.&nbsp; That it will not be annihilated by Him that
+made it, we must humbly learn from higher authority.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+The whole assembly stood awhile silent and collected.&nbsp; &ldquo;Let
+us return,&rdquo; said Rasselas, &ldquo;from this scene of mortality.&nbsp;
+How gloomy would be these mansions of the dead to him who did not know
+that he should never die; that what now acts shall continue its agency,
+and what now thinks shall think on for ever.&nbsp; Those that lie here
+stretched before us, the wise and the powerful of ancient times, warn
+us to remember the shortness of our present state; they were perhaps
+snatched away while they were busy, like us, in the <i>choice of</i>
+<i>life</i>.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+&ldquo;To me,&rdquo; said the Princess, &ldquo;the choice of life is
+become less important; I hope hereafter to think only on the choice
+of eternity.&rdquo;<br>
+<br>
+They then hastened out of the caverns, and under the protection of their
+guard returned to Cairo.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+CHAPTER XLIX - THE CONCLUSION, IN WHICH NOTHING IS CONCLUDED.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+It was now the time of the inundation of the Nile.&nbsp; A few days
+after their visit to the catacombs the river began to rise.<br>
+<br>
+They were confined to their house.&nbsp; The whole region being under
+water, gave them no invitation to any excursions; and being well supplied
+with materials for talk, they diverted themselves with comparisons of
+the different forms of life which they had observed, and with various
+schemes of happiness which each of them had formed.<br>
+<br>
+Pekuah was never so much charmed with any place as the Convent of St.
+Anthony, where the Arab restored her to the Princess, and wished only
+to fill it with pious maidens and to be made prioress of the order.&nbsp;
+She was weary of expectation and disgust, and would gladly be fixed
+in some unvariable state.<br>
+<br>
+The Princess thought that, of all sublunary things, knowledge was the
+best.&nbsp; She desired first to learn all sciences, and then proposed
+to found a college of learned women, in which she would preside, that,
+by conversing with the old and educating the young, she might divide
+her time between the acquisition and communication of wisdom, and raise
+up for the next age models of prudence and patterns of piety.<br>
+<br>
+The Prince desired a little kingdom in which he might administer justice
+in his own person and see all the parts of government with his own eyes;
+but he could never fix the limits of his dominion, and was always adding
+to the number of his subjects.<br>
+<br>
+Imlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along the stream
+of life without directing their course to any particular port.<br>
+<br>
+Of those wishes that they had formed they well knew that none could
+be obtained.&nbsp; They deliberated awhile what was to be done, and
+resolved, when the inundation should cease, to return to Abyssinia.<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA ***<br>
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