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+<title>Rasselas, by Samuel Johnson</title>
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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>
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