Samuel Johnson

The History of

RasselasPrince of Abissinia

In parentheses PublicationsOrientalism Series

Cambridge, Ontario 1999

1. Description of a palace in a valley

Ye who listen with credulity to the whispers of fancy, and pursuewith eagerness the phantoms of hope; who expect that age will performthe promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will besupplied by the morrow; attend to the history of Rasselas prince ofAbissinia.

Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty emperour, in whosedominions the Father of waters begins his course; whose bounty poursdown the streams of plenty, and scatters over half the world the harvestsof Egypt.

According to the custom which has descended from age to age amongthe monarchs of the torrid zone, Rasselas was confined in a privatepalace, with the other sons and daughters of Abissinian royalty, till theorder of succession should call him to the throne.

The place, which the wisdom or policy of antiquity had destined forthe residence of the Abissinian princes, was a spacious valley in thekingdom of Amhara, surrounded on every side by mountains, of whichthe summits overhang the middle part. The only passage, by which itcould be entered, was a cavern that passed under a rock, of which it haslong been disputed whether it was the work of nature or of humanindustry. The outlet of the cavern was concealed by a thick wood, andthe mouth which opened into the valley was closed with gates of iron,forged by the artificers of ancient days, so massy that no man could,without the help of engines, open or shut them.

From the mountains on every side, rivulets descended that filled allthe valley with verdure and fertility, and formed a lake in the middleinhabited by fish of every species, and frequented by every fowl whomnature has taught to dip the wing in water. This lake discharged itssuperfluities by a stream which entered a dark cleft of the mountain onthe northern side, and fell with dreadful noise from precipice to precipicetill it was heard no more.

The sides of the mountains were covered with trees, the banks of thebrooks were diversified with flowers; every blast shook spices from therocks, and every month dropped fruits upon the ground. All animals thatbite the grass, or brouse the shrub, whether wild or tame, wandered in

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this extensive circuit, secured from beasts of prey by the mountainswhich confined them. On one part were flocks and herds feeding in thepastures, on another all the beasts of chase frisking in the lawns; thesprightly kid was bounding on the rocks, the subtle monkey frolicking inthe trees, and the solemn elephant reposing in the shade. All thediversities of the world were brought together, the blessings of naturewere collected, and its evils extracted and excluded.

The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants with thenecessaries of life, and all delights and superfluities were added at theannual visit which the emperour paid his children, when the iron gatewas opened to the sound of musick; and during eight days every onethat resided in the alley was required to propose whatever mightcontribute to make seclusion pleasant, to fill up the vacancies of attention,and lessen the tediousness of time. Every desire was immediatelygranted. All the artificers of pleasure were called to gladden thefestivity; the musicians exerted the power of harmony, and the dancersshewed their activity before the princes, in hope that they should passtheir lives in this blissful captivity to which these only were admittedwhose performance was thought able to add novelty to luxury. Such wasthe 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 neversuffered to return, the effect of longer experience could not be known.Thus every year produced new schemes of delight, and new competitorsfor imprisonment. The palace stood on an eminence raised about thirtypaces above the surface of the lake. It was divided into many squares orcourts, built with greater or less magnificence according to the rank ofthose for whom they were designed. The roofs were turned into archesof massy stone joined with a cement that grew harder by time, and thebuilding stood from century to century, deriding the solstitial rains andequinoctial hurricanes, without need of reparation.

This house, which was so large as to be fully known to none but someancient officers who successively inherited the secrets of the place, wasbuilt as if suspicion herself had dictated the plan. To every room therewas an open and secret passage, every square had a communication withthe rest, either from the upper stories by private galleries, or by

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subterranean passages from the lower apartments. Many of the columnshad unsuspected cavities, in which a long race of monarchs had repositedtheir treasures. They then closed up the opening with marble, which wasnever to be removed but in the utmost exigencies of the kingdom; andrecorded their accumulations in a book which was itself concealed in atower not entered but by the emperour, attended by the prince whostood next in succession.

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2. The discontent of Rasselas in the happy valley

Here the sons and daughters of Abissinia lived only to know the softvicissitudes of pleasure and repose, attended by all that were skilful todelight, and gratified with whatever the senses can enjoy. Theywandered in gardens of fragrance, and slept in the fortresses of security.Every art was practised to make them pleased with their own condition.The sages who instructed them, told them of nothing but the miseries ofpublick life, and described all beyond the mountains as regions ofcalamity, where discord was always raging, and where man preyed uponman.

To heighten their opinion of their own felicity, they were dailyentertained with songs, the subject of which was the happy valley. Theirappetites were excited by frequent enumerations of different enjoyments,and revelry and merriment was the business of every hour from thedawn of morning to the close of even.

These methods were generally successful; few of the Princes had everwished to enlarge their bounds, but passed their lives in full convictionthat they had all within their reach that art or nature could bestow, andpitied those whom fate had excluded from this seat of tranquility, as thesport of chance, and the slaves of misery.

Thus they rose in the morning, and lay down at night, pleased witheach other and with themselves, all but Rasselas, who, in thetwenty-sixth year of his age, began to withdraw himself from theirpastimes and assemblies, and to delight in solitary walks and silentmeditation. He often sat before tables covered with luxury, and forgot totaste the dainties that were placed before him: he rose abruptly in themidst of the song, and hastily retired beyond the sound of musick. Hisattendants observed the change and endeavoured to renew his love ofpleasure: he neglected their officiousness, repulsed their invitations, andspent day after day on the banks of rivulets sheltered with trees, wherehe sometimes listened to the birds in the branches, sometimes observedthe fish playing in the stream, and anon cast his eyes upon the pasturesand mountains filled with animals, of which some were biting theherbage, and some sleeping among the bushes.

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This singularity of his humour made him much observed. One of theSages, in whose conversation he had formerly delighted, followed himsecretly, in hope of discovering the cause of his disquiet. Rasselas, whoknew not that any one was near him, having for some time fixed his eyesupon the goats that were brousing among the rocks, began to comparetheir condition with his own.

ÒWhat,Ó said he, Òmakes the difference between man and all the restof the animal creation? Every beast that strays beside me has the samecorporal necessities with myself; he is hungry and crops the grass, he isthirsty and drinks the stream, his thirst and hunger are appeased, he issatisfied and sleeps; he rises again and is hungry, he is again fed and is atrest. I am hungry and thirsty like him, but when thirst and hunger cease Iam not at rest; I am, like him, pained with want, but am not, like him,satisfied with fulness. The intermediate hours are tedious and gloomy; Ilong again to be hungry that I may again quicken my attention. The birdspeck the berries or the corn, and fly away to the groves where they sit inseeming happiness on the branches, and waste their lives in tuning oneunvaried series of sounds. I likewise can call the lutanist and the singer,but the sounds that pleased me yesterday weary me to day, and willgrow yet more wearisome to morrow. I can discover within me nopower of perception which is not glutted with its proper pleasure, yet Ido not feel myself delighted. Man has surely some latent sense for whichthis place affords no gratification, or he has some desires distinct fromsense which must be satisfied before he can be happy.Ó

After this he lifted up his head, and seeing the moon rising, walkedtowards the palace. As he passed through the fields, and saw the animalsaround him, ÒYe,Ó said he, Òare happy, and need not envy me that walkthus among you, burthened with myself; nor do I, ye gentle beings, envyyour felicity; for it is not the felicity of man. I have many distresses fromwhich ye are free; I fear pain when I do not feel it; I sometimes shrink atevils recollected, and sometimes start at evils anticipated: surely theequity of providence has ballanced peculiar sufferings with peculiarenjoyments.Ó

With observations like these the prince amused himself as hereturned, uttering them with a plaintive voice, yet with a look thatdiscovered him to feel some complacence in his own perspicacity, and to

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receive some solace of the miseries of life, from consciousness of thedelicacy with which he felt, and the eloquence with which he bewailedthem. He mingled cheerfully in the diversions of the evening, and allrejoiced to find that his heart was lightened.

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3. The wants of him that wants nothing

On the next day his old instructor, imagining that he had now madehimself acquainted with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing it bycounsel, and officiously sought an opportunity of conference, which theprince, having long considered him as one whose intellects wereexhausted, was not very willing to afford: ÒWhy,Ó said he, Òdoes thisman thus intrude upon me; shall I be never suffered to forget thoselectures which pleased only while they were new, and to become newagain must be forgotten?Ó He then walked into the wood, and composedhimself to his usual meditations; when, before his thoughts had takenany settled form, he perceived his persuer at his side, and was at firstprompted by his impatience to go hastily away; but, being unwilling tooffend a man whom he had once reverenced and still loved, he invitedhim to sit down with him on the bank.

The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change which hadbeen lately observed in the prince, and to enquire why he so oftenretired from the pleasures of the palace, to loneliness and silence. ÒI flyfrom pleasure,Ó said the prince, Òbecause pleasure has ceased to please; Iam lonely because I am miserable, and am unwilling to cloud with mypresence the happiness of others.Ó ÒYou, Sir,Ó said the sage, Òare the firstwho has complained of misery in the happy valley. I hope to convinceyou that your complaints have no real cause. You are here in fullpossession of all that the emperour of Abissinia can bestow; here isneither labour to be endured nor danger to be dreaded, yet here is allthat labour or danger can procure or purchase. Look round and tell mewhich of your wants is without supply: if you want nothing, how are youunhappy?Ó

ÒThat I want nothing,Ó said the prince, Òor that I know not what Iwant, is the cause of my complaint; if I had any known want, I shouldhave a certain wish; that wish would excite endeavour, and I should notthen repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the westernmountain, or lament when the day breaks and sleep will no longer hideme from myself. When I see the kids and the lambs chasing one another,I fancy that I should be happy if I had something to persue. But,possessing all that I can want, I find one day and one hour exactly like

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another, except that the latter is still more tedious than the former. Letyour experience inform me how the day may now seem as short as in mychildhood, while nature was yet fresh, and every moment shewed mewhat I never had observed before. I have already enjoyed too much; giveme something to desire.Ó

The old man was surprized at this new species of affliction, and knewnot what to reply, yet was unwilling to be silent. ÒSir,Ó said he, Òif youhad seen the miseries of the world, you would know how to value yourpresent state.Ó ÒNow,Ó said the prince, Òyou have given me something todesire; I shall long to see the miseries of the world, since the sight ofthem is necessary to happiness.Ó

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4. The prince continues to grieve and muse

At this time the sound of musick proclaimed the hour of repast, andthe conversation was concluded. The old man went away sufficientlydiscontented to find that his reasonings had produced the onlyconclusion which they were intended to prevent. But in the decline of lifeshame and grief are of short duration; whether it be that we bear easilywhat we have born long, or that, finding ourselves in age less regarded,we less regard others; or, that we look with slight regard uponafflictions, to which we know that the hand of death is about to put anend.

The prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could notspeedily quiet his emotions. He had been before terrified at the length oflife which nature promised him, because he considered that in a longtime much must be endured; he now rejoiced in his youth, because inmany years much might be done.

This first beam of hope, that had been ever darted into his mind,rekindled youth in his cheeks, and doubled the lustre of his eyes. He wasfired with the desire of doing something, though he knew not yet withdistinctness, either end or means.

He was now no longer gloomy and unsocial; but, considering himselfas master of a secret stock of happiness, which he could enjoy only byconcealing it, he affected to be busy in all schemes of diversion, andendeavoured to make others pleased with the state of which he himselfwas weary. But pleasures never can be so multiplied or continued, as notto leave much of life unemployed; there were many hours, both of thenight and day, which he could spend without suspicion in solitarythought. The load of life was much lightened: he went eagerly into theassemblies, because he supposed the frequency of his presence necessaryto the success of his purposes; he retired gladly to privacy, because hehad now a subject of thought.

His chief amusement was to picture to himself that world which hehad never seen; to place himself in various conditions; to be entangled inimaginary difficulties, and to be engaged in wild adventures: but hisbenevolence always terminated his projects in the relief of distress, the

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detection of fraud, the defeat of oppression, and the diffusion of happiness.Thus passed twenty months of the life of Rasselas. He busied himself

so intensely in visionary bustle, that he forgot his real solitude; and,amidst hourly preparations for the various incidents of human affairs,neglected to consider by what means he should mingle with mankind.

One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself an orphanvirgin robbed of her little portion by a treacherous lover, and cryingafter him for restitution and redress. So strongly was the imageimpressed upon his mind, that he started up in the maidÕs defence, andrun forward to seize the plunderer with all the eagerness of real persuit.Fear naturally quickens the flight of guilt. Rasselas could not catch thefugitive with his utmost efforts; but, resolving to weary, byperseverance, him whom he could not surpass in speed, he pressed on tillthe foot of the mountain stopped his course. Here he recollected himself,and smiled at his own useless impetuosity. Then raising his eyes to themountain, ÒThis,Ó said he, Òis the fatal obstacle that hinders at once theenjoyment of pleasure, and the exercise of virtue. How long is it that myhopes and wishes have flown beyond this boundary of my life, which yetI never have attempted to surmount!Ó

Struck with this reflection, he sat down to muse, and remembered,that since he first resolved to escape from his confinement, the sun hadpassed twice over him in his annual course. He now felt a degree ofregret with which he had never been before acquainted. He consideredhow much might have been done in the time which had passed, and leftnothing real behind it. He compared twenty months with the life of man.ÒIn life,Ó said he, Òis not to be counted the ignorance of infancy, orimbecility of age. We are long before we are able to think, and we sooncease from the power of acting. The true period of human existence maybe reasonably estimated as forty years, of which I have mused away thefour and twentieth part. What I have lost was certain, for I have certainlypossessed it; but of twenty months to come who can assure me?Ó

The consciousness of his own folly pierced him deeply, and he waslong before he could be reconciled to himself ÒThe rest of my time,Ó saidhe, Òhas been lost by the crime or folly of my ancestors, and the absurdinstitutions of my country; I remember it with disgust, yet withoutremorse: but the months that have passed since new light darted into my

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soul, since I formed a scheme of reasonable felicity, have beensquandered by my own fault. I have lost that which can never berestored: I have seen the sun rise and set for twenty months, an idlegazer on the light of heaven: In this time the birds have left the nest oftheir mother, and committed themselves to the woods and to the skies:the kid has forsaken the teat, and learned by degrees to climb the rocksin quest of independant sustenance. I only have made no advances, butam still helpless and ignorant. The moon by more than twenty changes,admonished me of the flux of life; the stream that rolled before my feetupbraided my inactivity. I sat feasting on intellectual luxury, regardlessalike of the examples of the earth, and the instructions of the planets.Twenty months are past, who shall restore them!Ó

These sorrowful meditations fastened upon his mind; he past fourmonths in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves, and wasawakened to more vigorous exertion by hearing a maid, who had brokena porcelain cup, remark, that what cannot be repaired is not to beregretted.

This was obvious; and Rasselas reproached himself that he had notdiscovered it, having not known, or not considered, how many usefulhints are obtained by chance, and how often the mind, hurried by herown ardour to distant views, neglects the truths that lie open before her.He, for a few hours, regretted his regret, and from that time bent hiswhole mind upon the means of escaping from the valley of happiness.

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5. The prince meditates his escape

He now found that it would be very difficult to effect that which itwas very easy to suppose effected. When he looked round about him, hesaw himself confined by the bars of nature which had never yet beenbroken, and by the gate, through which none that once had passed itwere ever able to return. He was now impatient as an eagle in a grate.He passed week after week in clambering the mountains, to see if therewas any aperture which the bushes might conceal, but found all thesummits inaccessible by their prominence. The iron gate he despaired toopen; for it was not only secured with all the power of art, but wasalways watched by successive sentinels, and was by its position exposedto the perpetual observation of all the inhabitants.

He then examined the cavern through which the waters of the lakewere discharged; and, looking down at a time when the sun shonestrongly upon its mouth, he discovered it to be full of broken rocks,which, though they permitted the stream to flow through many narrowpassages, would stop any body of solid bulk. He returned discouragedand dejected; but, having now known the blessing of hope, resolvednever to despair.

In these fruitless searches he spent ten months. The time, however,passed chearfully away: in the morning he rose with new hope, in theevening applauded his own diligence, and in the night slept sound afterhis fatigue. He met a thousand amusements which beguiled his labour,and diversified his thoughts. He discerned the various instincts ofanimals, and properties of plants, and found the place replete withwonders, of which he purposed to solace himself with the contemplation,if he should never be able to accomplish his flight; rejoicing that hisendeavours, though yet unsucessful, had supplied him with a source ofinexhaustible enquiry.

But his original curiosity was not yet abated; he resolved to obtainsome knowledge of the ways of men. His wish still continued, but hishope grew less. He ceased to survey any longer the walls of his prison,and spared to search by new toils for interstices which he knew couldnot be found, yet determined to keep his design always in view, and layhold on any expedient that time should offer.

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6. A dissertation on the art of flying

Among the artists that had been allured into the happy valley, tolabour for the accommodation and pleasure of its inhabitants, was a maneminent for his knowledge of the mechanick powers, who had contrivedmany engines both of use and recreation. By a wheel, which the streamturned, he forced the water into a tower, whence it was distributed to allthe apartments of the palace. He erected a pavillion in the garden,around which he kept the air always cool by artificial showers. One ofthe groves, appropriated to the ladies, was ventilated by fans, to whichthe rivulet that run through it gave a constant motion; and instruments ofsoft musick were placed at proper distances, of which some played bythe impulse of the wind, and some by the power of the stream. Thisartist was sometimes visited by Rasselas, who was pleased with everykind of knowledge, imagining that the time would come when all hisacquisitions should be of use to him in the open world. He came one dayto amuse himself in his usual manner, and found the master busy inbuilding a sailing chariot: he saw that the design was practicable upon alevel surface, and with expressions of great esteem solicited itscompletion. The workman was pleased to find himself so much regardedby the prince, and resolved to gain yet higher honours. ÒSir,Ó said he,Òyou have seen but a small part of what the mechanick sciences canperform. I have been long of opinion, that, instead of the tardyconveyance of ships and chariots, man might use the swifter migration ofwings; that the fields of air are open to knowledge, and that onlyignorance and idleness need crawl upon the ground.Ó

This hint rekindled the princeÕs desire of passing the mountains;having seen what the mechanist had already performed, he was willingto fancy that he could do more; yet resolved to enquire further before hesuffered hope to afflict him by disappointment. ÒI am afraid,Ó said he tothe artist, Òthat your imagination prevails over your skill, and that younow tell me rather what you wish than what you know. Every animalhas his element assigned him; the birds have the air, and man and beaststhe earth.Ó ÒSo,Ó replied the mechanist, Òfishes have the water, in whichyet beasts can swim by nature, and men by art. He that can swim needsnot despair to fly: to swim is to fly in a grosser fluid, and to fly is to

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swim in a subtler. We are only to proportion our power of resistance tothe different density of the matter through which we are to pass. Youwill be necessarily upborn by the air, if you can renew any impulse uponit, faster than the air can recede from the pressure.Ó

ÒBut the exercise of swimming,Ó said the prince, Òis very laborious;the strongest limbs are soon wearied; I am afraid the act of flying will beyet more violent, and wings will be of no great use, unless we can flyfurther than we can swim.Ó

ÒThe labour of rising from the ground,Ó said the artist, Òwill be great,as we see it in the heavier domestick fowls; but, as we mount higher, theearthÕs attraction, and the bodyÕs gravity, will be gradually diminished,till we shall arrive at a region where the man will float in the air withoutany tendency to fall: no care will then be necessary, but to moveforwards, which the gentlest impulse will effect. You, Sir, whosecuriosity is so extensive, will easily conceive with what pleasure aphilosopher, furnished with wings, and hovering in the sky, would seethe earth, and all itÕs inhabitants, rolling beneath him, and presenting tohim successively, by itÕs diurnal motion, all the countries within the sameparallel. How must it amuse the pendent spectator to see the movingscene of land and ocean, cities and desarts! To survey with equal securitythe marts of trade, and the fields of battle; mountains infested bybarbarians, and fruitful regions gladdened by plenty, and lulled bypeace! How easily shall we then trace the Nile through all his passage;pass over to distant regions, and examine the face of nature from oneextremity of the earth to the other!Ó

ÒAll this,Ó said the prince, Òis much to be desired, but I am afraid thatno man will be able to breathe in these regions of speculation andtranquility. I have been told, that respiration is difficult upon loftymountains, yet from these precipices, though so high as to produce greattenuity of the air, it is very easy to fall: therefore I suspect, that from anyheight, where life can be supported, there may be danger of too quickdescent.Ó

ÒNothing,Ó replied the artist, Òwill ever be attempted, if all possibleobjections must be first overcome. If you will favour my project I will trythe first flight at my own hazard. I have considered the structure of allvolant animals, and find the folding continuity of the batÕs wings most

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easily accommodated to the human form. Upon this model I shall beginmy task to morrow, and in a year expect to tower into the air beyond themalice or persuit of man. But I will work only on this condition, that theart shall not be divulged, and that you shall not require me to makewings for any but ourselves.Ó

ÒWhy,Ó said Rasselas, Òshould you envy others so great anadvantage? All skill ought to be exerted for universal good; every manhas owed much to others, and ought to repay the kindness that he hasreceived.Ó

ÒIf men were all virtuous,Ó returned the artist, ÒI should with greatalacrity teach them all to fly. But what would be the security of the good,if the bad could at pleasure invade them from the sky? Against an armysailing through the cloud neither walls, nor mountains, nor seas, couldafford any security. A flight of northern savages might hover in thewind, and light at once with irresistible violence upon the capital of afruitful region that was rolling under them. Even this valley, the retreatof princes, the abode of happiness, might be violated by the suddendescent of some of the naked nations that swarm on the coast of thesouthern sea.Ó

The prince promised secrecy, and waited for the performance, notwholly hopeless of success. He visited the work from time to time,observed its progress, and remarked many ingenious contrivances tofacilitate motion, and unite levity with strength. The artist was every daymore certain that he should leave vultures and eagles behind him, andthe contagion of his confidence seized upon the prince.

In a year the wings were finished, and, on a morning appointed, themaker appeared furnished for flight on a little promontory: he waved hispinions a while to gather air, then leaped from his stand, and in aninstant dropped into the lake. His wings, which were of no use in the air,sustained him in the water, and the prince drew him to land, half deadwith terrour and vexation.

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7. The prince finds a man of learning

The prince was not much afflicted by this disaster, having sufferedhimself to hope for a happier event, only because he had no other meansof escape in view. He still persisted in his design to leave the happyvalley by the first opportunity.

His imagination was now at a stand; he had no prospect of enteringinto the world; and, notwithstanding all his endeavours to supporthimself, discontent by degrees preyed upon him, and he began again tolose his thoughts in sadness, when the rainy season, which in thesecountries is periodical, made it inconvenient to wander in the woods.

The rain continued longer and with more violence than had been everknown: the clouds broke on the surrounding mountains, and the torrentsstreamed into the plain on every side, till the cavern was too narrow todischarge the water. The lake overflowed its banks, and all the level ofthe valley was covered with the inundation. The eminence, on which thepalace was built, and some other spots of rising ground, were all that theeye could now discover. The herds and flocks left the pastures, and boththe wild beasts and the tame retreated to the mountains.

This inundation confined all the princes to domestick amusements,and the attention of Rasselas was particularly seized by a poem, whichImlac rehearsed upon the various conditions of humanity. Hecommanded the poet to attend him in his apartment, and recite his versesa second time; then entering into familiar talk, he thought himself happyin having found a man who knew the world so well, and could soskilfully paint the scenes of life. He asked a thousand questions aboutthings, to which, though common to all other mortals, his confinementfrom childhood had kept him a stranger. The poet pitied his ignorance,and loved his curiosity, and entertained him from day to day withnovelty and instruction, so that the prince regretted the necessity ofsleep, and longed till the morning should renew his pleasure.

As they were sitting together, the prince commanded Imlac to relatehis history, and to tell by what accident he was forced, or by whatmotive induced, to close his life in the happy valley. As he was going tobegin his narrative, Rasselas was called to a concert, and obliged torestrain his curiosity till the evening.

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8. The history of Imlac

The close of the day is, in the regions of the torrid zone, the onlyseason of diversion and entertainment, and it was therefore midnightbefore the musick ceased, and the princesses retired. Rasselas then calledfor his companion and required him to begin the story of his life.

ÒSir,Ó said Imlac, Òmy history will not be long: the life that is devotedto knowledge passes silently away, and is very little diversified byevents. To talk in publick, to think in solitude, to read and to hear, toinquire, and answer inquiries, is the business of a scholar. He wandersabout the world without pomp or terrour, and is neither known norvalued but by men like himself.

ÒI was born in the kingdom of Goiama, at no great distance from thefountain of the Nile. My father was a wealthy merchant, who tradedbetween the inland countries of Africk and the ports of the red sea. Hewas honest, frugal and diligent, but of mean sentiments, and narrowcomprehension: he desired only to be rich, and to conceal his riches, lesthe should be spoiled by the governours of the province.Ó

ÒSurely,Ó said the prince, Òmy father must be negligent of his charge,if any man in his dominions dares take that which belongs to another.Does he not know that kings are accountable for injustice permitted aswell as done? If I were emperour, not the meanest of my subjects shouldbe oppressed with impunity. My blood boils when I am told that amerchant durst not enjoy his honest gains for fear of losing them by therapacity of power. Name the governour who robbed the people, that Imay declare his crimes to the emperour.Ó

ÒSir,Ó said Imlac, Òyour ardour is the natural effect of virtue animatedby youth: the time will come when you will acquit your father, andperhaps hear with less impatience of the governour. Oppression is, in theAbissinian dominions, neither frequent nor tolerated; but no form ofgovernment has been yet discovered, by which cruelty can be whollyprevented. Subordination supposes power on one part and subjection onthe other; and if power be in the hands of men, it will sometimes beabused. The vigilance of the supreme magistrate may do much, but muchwill still remain undone. He can never know all the crimes that arecommitted, and can seldom punish all that he knows.Ó

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ÒThis,Ó said the prince, ÒI do not understand, but I had rather hearthee than dispute. Continue thy narration.Ó

ÒMy father,Ó proceeded Imlac, Òoriginally intended that I should haveno other education, than such as might qualify me for commerce; anddiscovering in me great strength of memory, and quickness ofapprehension, often declared his hope that I should be some time therichest man in Abissinia.Ó

ÒWhy,Ó said the prince, Òdid thy father desire the increase of hiswealth, when it was already greater than he durst discover or enjoy? Iam unwilling to doubt thy veracity, yet inconsistencies cannot both betrue.Ó

ÒInconsistencies,Ó answered Imlac, Òcannot both be right, but,imputed to man, they may both be true. Yet diversity is notinconsistency. My father might expect a time of greater security.However, some desire is necessary to keep life in motion, and he, whosereal wants are supplied, must admit those of fancy.Ó

ÒThis,Ó said the prince, ÒI can in some measure conceive. I repent thatI interrupted thee.Ó

ÒWith this hope,Ó proceeded Imlac, Òhe sent me to school; but when Ihad once found the delight of knowledge, and felt the pleasure ofintelligence and the pride of invention, I began silently to despise riches,and determined to disappoint the purpose of my father, whose grossnessof conception raised my pity. I was twenty years old before histenderness would expose me to the fatigue of travel, in which time I hadbeen instructed, by successive masters, in all the literature of my nativecountry. As every hour taught me something new, I lived in a continualcourse of gratifications; but, as I advanced towards manhood, I lost muchof the reverence with which I had been used to look on my instructors;because, when the lesson was ended, I did not find them wiser or betterthan common men.

ÒAt length my father resolved to initiate me in commerce, and,opening one of his subterranean treasuries, counted out ten thousandpieces of gold. ÔThis, young man,Õ said he, Ôis the stock with which youmust negociate. I began with less than the fifth part, and you see howdiligence and parsimony have increased it. This is your own to waste orto improve. If you squander it by negligence or caprice, you must wait

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for my death before you will be rich: if, in four years, you double yourstock, we will thenceforward let subordination cease, and live togetheras friends and partners; for he shall always be equal with me, who isequally skilled in the art of growing rich.Õ

ÒWe laid our money upon camels, concealed in bales of cheap goods,and travelled to the shore of the red sea. When I cast my eye on theexpanse of waters my heart bounded like that of a prisoner escaped. Ifelt an unextinguishable curiosity kindle in my mind, and resolved tosnatch this opportunity of seeing the manners of other nations, and oflearning sciences unknown in Abissinia.

ÒI remembered that my father had obliged me to the improvement ofmy stock, not by a promise which I ought not to violate, but by a penaltywhich I was at liberty to incur; and therefore determined to gratify mypredominant desire, and by drinking at the fountains of knowledge, toquench the thirst of curiosity.

ÒAs I was supposed to trade without connexion with my father, itwas easy for me to become acquainted with the master of a ship, andprocure a passage to some other country. I had no motives of choice toregulate my voyage; it was sufficient for me that, wherever I wandered,I should see a country which I had not seen before. I therefore entered aship bound for Surat, having left a letter for my father declaring myintention.

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9. The history of Imlac continued

ÒWhen I first entered upon the world of waters, and lost sight ofland, I looked round about me with pleasing terrour, and thinking mysoul enlarged by the boundless prospect, imagined that I could gazeround for ever without satiety; but, in a short time, I grew weary oflooking on barren uniformity, where I could only see again what I hadalready seen. I then descended into the ship, and doubted for a whilewhether all my future pleasures would not end like this in disgust anddisappointment. ÔYet, surely,Õ said I, Ôthe ocean and the land are verydifferent; the only variety of water is rest and motion, but the earth hasmountains and vallies, desarts and cities: it is inhabited by men ofdifferent customs and contrary opinions; and I may hope to find varietyin life, though I should miss it in nature.Õ

ÒWith this thought I quieted my mind; and amused myself during thevoyage, sometimes by learning from the sailors the art of navigation,which I have never practised, and sometimes by forming schemes for myconduct in different situations, in not one of which I have been everplaced.

ÒI was almost weary of my naval amusements when we landed safelyat Surat. I secured my money, and purchasing some commodities forshow, joined myself to a caravan that was passing into the inlandcountry. My companions, for some reason or other, conjecturing that Iwas rich, and, by my inquiries and admiration, finding that I wasignorant, considered me as a novice whom they had a right to cheat, andwho was to learn at the usual expence the art of fraud. They exposed meto the theft of servants, and the exaction of officers, and saw meplundered upon false pretences, without any advantage to themselves,but that of rejoicing in the superiority of their own knowledge.Ó

ÒStop a moment,Ó said the prince. ÒIs there such depravity in man, asthat he should injure another without benefit to himself? I can easilyconceive that all are pleased with superiority; but your ignorance wasmerely accidental, which, being neither your crime nor your folly, couldafford them no reason to applaud themselves; and the knowledge whichthey had, and which you wanted, they might as effectually have shewnby warning, as betraying you.Ó

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ÒPride,Ó said Imlac, Òis seldom delicate, it will please itself with verymean advantages; and envy feels not its own happiness, but when it maybe compared with the misery of others. They were my enemies becausethey grieved to think me rich, and my oppressors because they delightedto find me weak.Ó

ÒProceed,Ó said the prince: ÒI doubt not of the facts which you relate,but imagine that you impute them to mistaken motives.Ó

ÒIn this company,Ó said Imlac, ÒI arrived at Agra, the capital ofIndostan, the city in which the great Mogul commonly resides. I appliedmyself to the language of the country, and in a few months was able toconverse with the learned men; some of whom I found morose andreserved, and others easy and communicative; some were unwilling toteach another what they had with difficulty learned themselves; andsome shewed that the end of their studies was to gain the dignity ofinstructing.

ÒTo the tutor of the young princes I recommended myself so much,that I was presented to the emperour as a man of uncommon knowledge.The emperour asked me many questions concerning my country and mytravels; and though I cannot now recollect any thing that he utteredabove the power of a common man, he dismissed me astonished at hiswisdom, and enamoured of his goodness.

ÒMy credit was now so high, that the merchants, with whom I hadtravelled, applied to me for recommendations to the ladies of the court. Iwas surprised at their confidence of solicitation, and gently reproachedthem with their practices on the road. They heard me with coldindifference, and shewed no tokens of shame or sorrow.

ÒThey then urged their request with the offer of a bribe; but what Iwould 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 toinjure others; for I knew they would have made use of my credit to cheatthose who should buy their wares.

ÒHaving resided at Agra till there was no more to be learned, Itravelled into Persia, where I saw many remains of ancient magnificence,and observed many new accommodations of life. The Persians are anation eminently social, and their assemblies afforded me daily

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opportunities of remarking characters and manners, and of tracinghuman nature through all its variations.

ÒFrom Persia I passed into Arabia, where I saw a nation at oncepastoral and warlike; who live without any settled habitation; whoseonly wealth is their flocks and herds; and who have yet carried on,through all ages, an hereditary war with all mankind, though theyneither covet nor envy their possessions.

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10. ImlacÕs history continued. A dissertation upon poetry

ÒWherever I went, I found that poetry was considered as the highestlearning, and regarded with a veneration somewhat approaching to thatwhich man would pay to the Angelick Nature. And it yet fills me withwonder, that, in almost all countries, the most ancient poets areconsidered as the best: whether it be that every other kind of knowledgeis an acquisition gradually attained, and poetry is a gift conferred atonce; 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 moststriking objects for description, and the most probable occurrences forfiction, and left nothing to those that followed them, but transcription ofthe same events, and new combinations of the same images. Whatever bethe reason, it is commonly observed that the early writers are inpossession of nature, and their followers of art: that the first excel instrength and invention, and the latter in elegance and refinement.

ÒI was desirous to add my name to this illustrious fraterity. I read allthe poets of Persia and Arabia, and was able to repeat by memory thevolumes that are suspended in the mosque of Mecca. But I soon foundthat no man was ever great by imitation. My desire of excellenceimpelled me to transfer my attention to nature and to life. Nature was tobe my subject, and men to be my auditors: I could never describe what Ihad not seen: I could not hope to move those with delight or terrour,whose interests and opinions I did not understand.

ÒBeing now resolved to be a poet, I saw every thing with a newpurpose; my sphere of attention was suddenly magnified: no kind ofknowledge was to be overlooked. I ranged mountains and deserts forimages and resemblances, and pictured upon my mind every tree of theforest and flower of the valley. I observed with equal care the crags ofthe rock and the pinnacles of the palace. Sometimes I wandered along themazes of the rivulet, and sometimes watched the changes of the summerclouds. To a poet nothing can be useless. Whatever is beautiful, andwhatever is dreadful, must be familiar to his imagination: he must beconversant with all that is awfully vast or elegantly little. The plants of

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the garden, the animals of the wood, the minerals of the earth, andmeteors of the sky, must all concur to store his mind with inexhaustiblevariety: for every idea is useful for the inforcement or decoration ofmoral or religious truth; and he, who knows most, will have most powerof diversifying his scenes, and of gratifying his reader with remoteallusions and unexpected instruction.

ÒAll the appearances of nature I was therefore careful to study, andevery country which I have surveyed has contributed something to mypoetical powers.Ó

ÒIn so wide a survey,Ó said the prince, Òyou must surely have leftmuch unobserved. I have lived, till now, within the circuit of thesemountains, and yet cannot walk abroad without the sight of somethingwhich I had never beheld before, or never heeded.Ó

ÒThe business of a poet,Ó said Imlac, Òis to examine, not theindividual, but the species; to remark general properties and largeappearances: he does not number the streaks of the tulip, or describe thedifferent shades in the verdure of the forest. He is to exhibit in hisportraits of nature such prominent and striking features, as recal theoriginal to every mind; and must neglect the minuter discriminations,which one may have remarked, and another have neglected, for thosecharacteristicks which are alike obvious to vigilance and carelessness.

ÒBut the knowledge of nature is only half the task of a poet; he mustbe acquainted likewise with all the modes of life. His character requiresthat he estimate the happiness and misery of every condition; observethe power of all the passions in all their combinations, and trace thechanges of the human mind as they are modified by various institutionsand accidental influences of climate or custom, from the spriteliness ofinfancy to the despondence of decrepitude. He must divest himself of theprejudices of his age or country; he must consider right and wrong intheir abstracted and invariable state; he must disregard present laws andopinions, and rise to general and transcendental truths, which willalways be the same: he must therefore content himself with the slowprogress of his name; contemn the applause of his own time, and commithis claims to the justice of posterity. He must write as the interpreter ofnature, and the legislator of mankind, and consider himself as presiding

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over the thoughts and manners of future generations; as a beingsuperiour to time and place.

ÒHis labour is not yet at an end: he must know many languages andmany sciences; and, that his stile may be worthy of his thoughts, must,by incessant practice, familiarize to himself every delicacy of speech andgrace of harmony.Ó

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11. ImlacÕs narrative continued. A hint on pilgrimage

Imlac now felt the enthusiastic fit, and was proceeding to aggrandizehis own profession, when the prince cried out, ÒEnough! Thou hastconvinced me, that no human being can ever be a poet. Proceed with thynarration.Ó

ÒTo be a poet,Ó said Imlac, Òis indeed very difficult.Ó ÒSo difficult,Óreturned the prince, Òthat I will at present hear no more of his labours.Tell me whither you went when you had seen Persia.Ó

ÒFrom Persia,Ó said the poet, ÒI travelled through Syria, and for threeyears resided in Palestine, where I conversed with great numbers of thenorthern and western nations of Europe; the nations which are now inpossession of all power and knowledge; whose armies are irresistible,and whose fleets command the remotest parts of the globe. When Icompared these men with the natives of our own kingdom, and thosethat surround us, they appeared almost another order of beings. In theircountries it is difficult to wish for any thing that may not be obtained: athousand arts, of which we never heard, are continually labouring fortheir convenience and pleasure; and whatever their own climate hasdenied them is supplied by their commerce.Ó

ÒBy what means,Ó said the prince, Òare the Europeans thus powerful?or why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa for trade orconquest, cannot the Asiaticks and Africans invade their coasts, plantcolonies in their ports, and give laws to their natural princes? The samewind that carries them back would bring us thither.Ó

ÒThey are more powerful, Sir, than we, answered Imlac, because theyare wiser; knowledge will always predominate over ignorance, as mangoverns the other animals. But why their knowledge is more than ours, Iknow not what reason can be given, but the unsearchable will of theSupreme Being.Ó

ÒWhen,Ó said the prince with a sigh, Òshall I be able to visit Palestine,and mingle with this mighty confluence of nations? Till that happymoment shall arrive, let me fill up the time with such representations asthou canst give me. I am not ignorant of the motive that assembles suchnumbers in that place, and cannot but consider it as the center of wisdom

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and piety, to which the best and wisest men of every land must becontinually resorting.Ó

ÒThere are some nations,Ó said Imlac, Òthat send few visitants toPalestine; for many numerous and learned sects in Europe, concur tocensure pilgrimage as superstitious, or deride it as ridiculous.Ó

ÒYou know,Ó said the prince, Òhow little my life has made meacquainted with diversity of opinions: it will be too long to hear thearguments on both sides; you, that have considered them, tell me theresult.Ó

ÒPilgrimage,Ó said Imlac, Òlike many other acts of piety, may bereasonable or superstitious, according to the principles upon which it isperformed. Long journies in search of truth are not commanded. Truth,such as is necessary to the regulation of life, is always found where it ishonestly sought. Change of place is no natural cause of the increase ofpiety, for it inevitably produces dissipation of mind. Yet, since men goevery day to view the fields where great actions have been performed,and return with stronger impressions of the event, curiosity of the samekind may naturally dispose us to view that country whence our religionhad its beginning; and I believe no man surveys those awful sceneswithout some confirmation of holy resolutions. That the Supreme Beingmay be more easily propitiated in one place than in another, is the dreamof idle superstition; but that some places may operate upon our ownminds in an uncommon manner, is an opinion which hourly experiencewill justify. He who supposes that his vices may be more successfullycombated in Palestine, will, perhaps, find himself mistaken, yet he maygo thither without folly: he who thinks they will be more freelypardoned, dishonours at once his reason and religion.Ó

ÒThese,Ó said the prince, Òare European distinctions. I will considerthem another time. What have you found to be the effect of knowledge?Are those nations happier than we?Ó

ÒThere is so much infelicity,Ó said the poet, Òin the world, that scarceany man has leisure from his own distresses to estimate the comparativehappiness of others. Knowledge is certainly one of the means of pleasure,as is confessed by the natural desire which every mind feels of increasingits ideas. Ignorance is mere privation, by which nothing can be produced:it is a vacuity in which the soul sits motionless and torpid for want of

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attraction; and, without knowing why, we always rejoice when we learn,and grieve when we forget. I am therefore inclined to conclude, that, ifnothing counteracts the natural consequence of learning, we grow morehappy as our minds take a wider range.

ÒIn enumerating the particular comforts of life we shall find manyadvantages on the side of the Europeans. They cure wounds and diseaseswith which we languish and perish. We suffer inclemencies of weatherwhich they can obviate. They have engines for the despatch of manylaborious works, which we must perform by manual industry. There issuch communication between distant places, that one friend can hardlybe said to be absent from another. Their policy removes all publickinconveniencies: they have roads cut through their mountains, andbridges laid upon their rivers. And, if we descend to the privacies of life,their habitations are more commodious, and their possessions are moresecure.Ó

ÒThey are surely happy,Ó said the prince, Òwho have all theseconveniencies, of which I envy none so much as the facility with whichseparated friends interchange their thoughts.

ÒThe Europeans,Ó answered Imlac, Òare less unhappy than we, butthey are not happy. Human life is every where a state in which much isto be endured, and little to be enjoyed.Ó

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12. The story of Imlac continued

ÒI am not yet willing,Ó said the prince, Òto suppose that happiness isso parsimoniously distributed to mortals; nor can believe but that, if Ihad the choice of life, I should be able to fill every day with pleasure. Iwould injure no man, and should provoke no resentment: I would relieveevery distress, and should enjoy the benedictions of gratitude. I wouldchoose my friends among the wise, and my wife among the virtuous; andtherefore should be in no danger from treachery, or unkindness. Mychildren should, by my care, be learned and pious, and would repay tomy age what their childhood had received. What would dare to molesthim who might call on every side to thousands enriched by his bounty,or assisted by his power? And why should not life glide quietly away inthe soft reciprocation of protection and reverence? All this may be donewithout the help of European refinements, which appear by their effectsto be rather specious than useful. Let us leave them and persue ourjourney.Ó

ÒFrom Palestine,Ó said Imlac, ÒI passed through many regions of Asia;in the more civilized kingdoms as a trader, and among the Barbarians ofthe mountains as a pilgrim. At last I began to long for my native country,that I might repose after my travels, and fatigues, in the places where Ihad spent my earliest years, and gladden my old companions with therecital of my adventures. Often did I figure to myself those, with whom Ihad sported away the gay hours of dawning life, sitting round me in itsevening, wondering at my tales, and listening to my counsels.

ÒWhen this thought had taken possession of my mind, I consideredevery moment as wasted which did not bring me nearer to Abissinia. Ihastened into Egypt, and, notwithstanding my impatience, was detainedten months in the contemplation of its ancient magnificence, and inenquiries after the remains of its ancient learning. I found in Cairo amixture of all nations; some brought thither by the love of knowledge,some by the hope of gain, and many by the desire of living after theirown manner without observation, and of lying hid in the obscurity ofmultitudes: for, in a city, populous as Cairo, it is possible to obtain at thesame time the gratifications of society, and the secrecy of solitude.

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ÒFrom Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked on the Red sea,passing along the coast till I arrived at the port from which I haddeparted twenty years before. Here I joined myself to a caravan andre-entered my native country.

ÒI now expected the caresses of my kinsmen, and the congratulationsof my friends, and was not without hope that my father, whatever valuehe had set upon riches, would own with gladness and pride a son whowas able to add to the felicity and honour of the nation. But I was soonconvinced that my thoughts were vain. My father had been deadfourteen years, having divided his wealth among my brothers, who wereremoved to some other provinces. Of my companions the greater partwas in the grave, of the rest some could with difficulty remember me,and some considered me as one corrupted by foreign manners.

ÒA man used to vicissitudes is not easily dejected. I forgot, after atime, my disappointment, and endeavoured to recommend myself to thenobles of the kingdom: they admitted me to their tables, heard my story,and dismissed me. I opened a school, and was prohibited to teach. I thenresolved to sit down in the quiet of domestick life, and addressed a ladythat was fond of my conversation, but rejected my suit, because myfather was a merchant.

ÒWearied at last with solicitation and repulses, I resolved to hidemyself for ever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion orcaprice of others. I waited for the time when the gate of the happy valleyshould open, that I might bid farewell to hope and fear: the day came;my performance was distinguished with favour, and I resigned myselfwith joy to perpetual confinement.Ó

ÒHast thou here found happiness at last?Ó said Rasselas. ÒTell mewithout reserve; art thou content with thy condition? or, dost thou wishto be again wandering and inquiring? All the inhabitants of this valleycelebrate their lot, and, at the annual visit of the emperour, invite othersto partake of their felicity.Ó

ÒGreat prince,Ó said Imlac, ÒI shall speak the truth: I know not one ofall your attendants who does not lament the hour when he entered thisretreat. I am less unhappy than the rest, because I have a mind repletewith images, which I can vary and combine at pleasure. I can amuse mysolitude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins to fade from

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my memory, and by recollection of the accidents of my past life. Yet allthis ends in the sorrowful consideration, that my acquirements are nowuseless, and that none of my pleasures can be again enjoyed. The rest,whose minds have no impression but of the present moment, are eithercorroded by malignant passions, or sit stupid in the gloom of perpetualvacancy.Ó

ÒWhat passions can infest those,Ó said the prince, Òwho have norivals? We are in a place where impotence precludes malice, and whereall envy is repressed by community of enjoyments.Ó

ÒThere may be community,Ó said Imlac, Òof material possessions, butthere can never be community of love or of esteem. It must happen thatone will please more than another; he that knows himself despised willalways be envious; and still more envious and malevolent, if he iscondemned to live in the presence of those who despise him. Theinvitations, by which they allure others to a state which they feel to bewretched, proceed from the natural malignity of hopeless misery. Theyare weary of themselves, and of each other, and expect to find relief innew companions. They envy the liberty which their folly has forfeited,and would gladly see all mankind imprisoned like themselves.

ÒFrom this crime, however, I am wholly free. No man can say that heis wretched by my persuasion. I look with pity on the crowds who areannually soliciting admission to captivity, and wish that it were lawfulfor me to warn them of their danger.Ó

ÒMy dear Imlac,Ó said the prince, ÒI will open to thee my whole heart.I have long meditated an escape from the happy valley. I have examinedthe mountains on every side, but find myself insuperably barred: teachme the way to break my prison; thou shalt be the companion of myflight, the guide of my rambles, the partner of my fortune, and my soledirector in the choice of life.Ó

ÒSir,Ó answered the poet, Òyour escape will be difficult, and, perhaps,you may soon repent your curiosity. The world, which you figure toyourself smooth and quiet as the lake in the valley, you will find a seafoaming with tempests, and boiling with whirlpools: you will besometimes overwhelmed by the waves of violence, and sometimesdashed against the rocks of treachery. Amidst wrongs and frauds,

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competitions and anxieties, you will wish a thousand times for theseseats of quiet, and willingly quit hope to be free from fear.Ó

ÒDo not seek to deter me from my purpose,Ó said the prince: ÒI amimpatient to see what thou hast seen; and, since thou art thyself weary ofthe valley, it is evident, that thy former state was better than this.Whatever be the consequence of my experiment, I am resolved to judgewith my own eyes of the various conditions of men, and then to makedeliberately my choice of life.Ó

ÒI am afraid,Ó said Imlac, Òyou are hindered by stronger restraintsthan my persuasions; yet, if your determination is fixed, I do not counselyou to despair. Few things are impossible to diligence and skill.Ó

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13. Rasselas discovers the means of escape

The prince now dismissed his favourite to rest, but the narrative ofwonders and novelties filled his mind with perturbation. He revolved allthat he had heard, and prepared innumerable questions for the morning.

Much of his uneasiness was now removed. He had a friend to whomhe could impart his thoughts, and whose experience could assist him inhis designs. His heart was no longer condemned to swell with silentvexation. He thought that even the happy valley might be endured withsuch a companion, and that, if they could range the world together, heshould have nothing further to desire.

In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground dried. Theprince and Imlac then walked out together to converse without the noticeof the rest. The prince, whose thoughts were always on the wing, as hepassed by the gate, said, with a countenance of sorrow, ÒWhy art thou sostrong, and why is man so weak?Ó

ÒMan is not weak,Ó answered his companion; Òknowledge is morethan equivalent to force. The master of mechanicks laughs at strength. Ican burst the gate, but cannot do it secretly. Some other expedient mustbe tried.Ó

As they were walking on the side of the mountain, they observedthat the conies, which the rain had driven from their burrows, had takenshelter among the bushes, and formed holes behind them, tendingupwards in an oblique line. ÒIt has been the opinion of antiquity,Ó saidImlac, Òthat human reason borrowed many arts from the instinct ofanimals; let us, therefore, not think ourselves degraded by learning fromthe coney. We may escape by piercing the mountain in the samedirection. We will begin where the summit hangs over the middle part,and labour upward till we shall issue out beyond the prominence.Ó

The eyes of the prince, when he heard this proposal, sparkled withjoy. The execution was easy, and the success certain.

No time was now lost. They hastened early in the morning to chuse aplace proper for their mine. They clambered with great fatigue amongcrags and brambles, and returned without having discovered any partthat favoured their design. The second and the third day were spent inthe same manner, and with the same frustration. But, on the fourth, they

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found a small cavern, concealed by a thicket, where they resolved tomake their experiment.

Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and remove earthand they fell to their work on the next day with more eagerness thanvigour. They were presently exhausted by their efforts, and sat down topant upon the grass. The prince, for the moment, appeared to bediscouraged. ÒSir,Ó said his companion, Òpractice will enable us tocontinue our labour for a longer time; mark, however, how far we haveadvanced, and you will find that our toil will some time have an end.Great works are performed, not by strength but perseverance: yonderpalace was raised by single stones, yet you see its height andspaciousness. He that shall walk with vigour three hours a day will passin seven years a space equal to the circumference of the globe.Ó Theyreturned to their work day after day, and, in a short time, found afissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with very littleobstruction. This Rasselas considered as a good omen. ÒDo not disturbyour mind,Ó said Imlac, Òwith other hopes or fears than reason maysuggest: if you are pleased with prognosticks of good, you will beterrified likewise with tokens of evil, and your whole life will be a preyto superstition. Whatever facilitates our work is more than an omen, it isa cause of success. This is one of those pleasing surprises which oftenhappen to active resolution. Many things difficult to design prove easy toperformance.Ó

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14. Rasselas and Imlac receive an unexpected visit

They had now wrought their way to the middle, and solaced theirtoil with the approach of liberty, when the prince, coming down torefresh himself with air, found his sister Nekayah standing before themouth of the cavity. He started and stood confused, afraid to tell hisdesign, and yet hopeless to conceal it. A few moments determined him torepose on her fidelity, and secure her secrecy by a declaration withoutreserve.

ÒDo not imagine,Ó said the princess, Òthat I came hither as a spy: Ihad long observed from my window, that you and Imlac directed yourwalk every day towards the same point, but I did not suppose you hadany better reason for the preference than a cooler shade, or morefragrant bank; nor followed you with any other design than to partake ofyour conversation. Since then not suspicion but fondness has detectedyou, let me not lose the advantage of my discovery. I am equally wearyof confinement with yourself, and not less desirous of knowing what isdone or suffered in the world. Permit me to fly with you from thistasteless tranquility, which will yet grow more loathsome when you haveleft me. You may deny me to accompany you, but cannot hinder me fromfollowing.Ó

The prince, who loved Nekayah above his other sisters, had lost anopportunity of shewing his confidence by a voluntary communication. Itwas therefore agreed that she should leave the valley with them; andthat, in the mean time, she should watch, lest any other straggler should,by chance or curiosity, follow them to the mountain.

At length their labour was at an end; they saw light beyond theprominence, and, issuing to the top of the mountain, beheld the Nile, yeta narrow current, wandering beneath them.

The prince looked round with rapture, anticipated all the pleasures oftravel, and in thought was already transported beyond his fatherÕsdominions. Imlac, though very joyful at his escape, had less expectationof pleasure in the world, which he had before tried, and of which he hadbeen weary. Rasselas was so much delighted with a wider horizon, thathe could not soon be persuaded to return into the valley. He informed

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his sister that the way was open, and that nothing now remained but toprepare for their departure.

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15. The prince and princess leave the valley, and see many wonders

The prince and princess had jewels sufficient to make them richwhenever they came into a place of commerce, which, by ImlacÕsdirection, they hid in their cloaths, and, on the night of the next fullmoon, all left the valley. The princess was followed only by a singlefavourite, who did not know whither she was going.

They clambered through the cavity, and began to go down towardsevery part, and, seeing nothing to bound their prospect, consideredthemselves as in danger of being lost in a dreary vacuity. They stoppedand trembled. ÒI am almost afraid,Ó said the princess, Òto begin a journeyof which I cannot perceive an end, and to venture into this immense plainwhere I may be approached on every side by men whom I never saw.ÓThe prince felt nearly the same emotions, though he thought it moremanly to conceal them.

Imlac smiled at their terrours, and encouraged them to proceed; butthe princess continued irresolute till she had been imperceptibly drawnforward too far to return.

In the morning they found some shepherds in the field, who set milkand fruits before them. The princess wondered that she did not see apalace ready for her reception, and a table spread with delicacies; but,being faint and hungry, she drank the milk and eat the fruits, andthought them of a higher flavour than the products of the valley.

They travelled forward by easy journeys, being all unaccustomed totoil or difficulty, and knowing, that though they might be missed, theycould not be persued. In a few days they came into a more populousregion, where Imlac was diverted with the admiration which hiscompanions expressed at the diversity of manners, stations andemployments.

Their dress was such as might not bring upon them the suspicion ofhaving any thing to conceal, yet the prince, wherever he came, expectedto be obeyed, and the princess was frighted, because those that came intoher presence did not prostrate themselves before her. Imlac was forcedto observe them with great vigilance, lest they should betray their rankby their unusual behaviour, and detained them several weeks in the firstvillage to accustom them to the sight of common mortals.

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By degrees the royal wanderers were taught to understand that theyhad for a time laid aside their dignity, and were to expect only suchregard as liberality and courtesy could procure. And Imlac, having, bymany admonitions, prepared them to endure the tumults of a port, andthe ruggedness of the commercial race, brought them down to theseacoast. The prince and his sister, to whom every thing was new, weregratified equally at all places, and therefore remained for some months atthe port without any inclination to pass further. Imlac was content withtheir stay, because he did not think it safe to expose them, unpractised inthe world, to the hazards of a foreign country.

At last he began to fear lest they should be discovered, and proposedto fix a day for their departure. They had no pretensions to judge forthemselves, and referred the whole scheme to his direction. He thereforetook passage in a ship to Suez; and, when the time came, with greatdifficulty prevailed on the princess to enter the vessel. They had a quickand prosperous voyage, and from Suez travelled by land to Cairo.

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16. They enter Cairo, and find every man happy

As they approached the city, which filled the strangers withastonishment, ÒThis,Ó said Imlac to the prince, Òis the place wheretravellers and merchants assemble from all the corners of the earth. Youwill here find men of every character, and every occupation. Commerceis here honourable: I will act as a merchant, and you shall live asstrangers, who have no other end of travel than curiosity; it will soon beobserved that we are rich; our reputation will procure us access to allwhom we shall desire to know; you will see all the conditions ofhumanity, and enable yourself at leisure to make your choice of life.ÓThey now entered the town, stunned by the noise, and offended by thecrowds. Instruction had not yet so prevailed over habit but that theywondered to see themselves pass undistinguished along the street, andmet by the lowest of the people without reverence or notice. The princesscould not at first bear the thought of being levelled with the vulgar, and,for some days, continued in her chamber, where she was served by herfavourite Pekuah as in the palace of the valley.

Imlac, who understood traffick, sold part of the jewels the next day,and hired a house, which he adorned with such magnificence, that hewas immediately considered as a merchant of great wealth. Hispoliteness attracted many acquaintance, and his generosity made himcourted by many dependants. His table was crowded by men of everynation, who all admired his knowledge, and solicited his favour. Hiscompanions, not being able to mix in the conversation, could make nodiscovery of their ignorance or surprise, and were gradually initiated inthe world as they gained knowledge of the language.

The prince had, by frequent lectures, been taught the use and natureof money; but the ladies could not, for a long time, comprehend what themerchants did with small pieces of gold and silver, or why things of solittle use should be received as equivalent to the necessaries of life. Theystudied the language two years, while Imlac was preparing to set beforethem the various ranks and conditions of mankind. He grew acquaintedwith all who had any thing uncommon in their fortune or conduct. Hefrequented the voluptuous and the frugal, the idle and the busy, themerchants and the men of learning. The prince, being now able to

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converse with fluency, and having learned the caution necessary to beobserved in his intercourse with strangers, began to accompany Imlac toplaces of resort, and to enter into all assemblies, that he might make hischoice of life. For some time he thought choice needless, because allappeared to him equally happy. Wherever he went he met gayety andkindness, and heard the song of joy, or the laugh of carelessness Hebegan to believe that the world overflowed with universal plenty, andthat nothing was withheld either from want or merit; that every handshowered liberality, and every heart melted with benevolence: Òand whothen,Ó says he, Òwill be suffered to be wretched?Ó

Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to crush thehope of inexperience; till one day, having sat a while silent, ÒI know not,Ósaid the prince, Òwhat can be the reason that I am more unhappy thanany of our friends. I see them perpetually and unalterably chearful, butfeel my own mind restless and uneasy. I am unsatisfied with thosepleasures which I seem most to court; I live in the crowds of jollity, notso much to enjoy company as to shun myself, and am only loud andmerry to conceal my sadness.Ó

ÒEvery man,Ó said Imlac, Òmay, by examining his own mind, guesswhat passes in the minds of others: when you feel that your own gaietyis counterfeit, it may justly lead you to suspect that of your companionsnot to be sincere. Envy is commonly reciprocal. We are long before weare convinced that happiness is never to be found, and each believes itpossessed by others, to keep alive the hope of obtaining it for himself. Inthe assembly, where you passed the last night, there appeared suchspriteliness of air, and volatility of fancy as might have suited beings ofan higher order, formed to inhabit serener regions inaccessible to care orsorrow: yet believe me, prince, there was not one who did not dread themoment when solitude should deliver him to the tyranny of reflection.Ó

ÒThis,Ó said the prince, Òmay be true of others, since it is true of me;yet, whatever be the general infelicity of man, one condition is morehappy than another, and wisdom surely directs us to take the least evil inthe choice of life.Ó

ÒThe causes of good and evil,Ó answered Imlac, Òare so various anduncertain, so often entangled with each other, so diversified by variousrelations, and so much subject to accidents which cannot be foreseen, that

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he who would fix his condition upon incontestable reasons of preference,must live and die inquiring and deliberating.Ó

ÒBut surely,Ó said Rasselas, Òthe wise men, to whom we listen withreverence and wonder, chose that mode of life for themselves which theythought most likely to make them happy.Ó

ÒVery few,Ó said the poet, Òlive by choice. Every man is placed in hispresent condition by causes which acted without his foresight, and withwhich he did not always willingly co-operate; and therefore you willrarely meet one who does not think the lot of his neighbour better thanhis own.Ó ÒI am pleased to think,Ó said the prince, Òthat my birth hasgiven me at least one advantage over others, by enabling me todetermine for myself. I have here the world before me; I will review it atleisure: surely happiness is somewhere to be found.Ó

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17. The prince associates with young men of spirit and gaiety

Rasselas rose next day, and resolved to begin his experiments uponlife. ÒYouth,Ó cried he, Òis the time of gladness: I will join myself to theyoung men, whose only business is to gratify their desires, and whosetime is all spent in a succession of enjoyments.Ó

To such societies he was readily admitted, but a few days broughthim back weary and disgusted. Their mirth was without images, theirlaughter without motive; their pleasures were gross and sensual, inwhich the mind had no part; their conduct was at once wild and mean;they laughed at order and at law, but the frown of power dejected, andthe eye of wisdom abashed them.

The prince soon concluded, that he should never be happy in a courseof life of which he was ashamed. He thought it unsuitable to a reasonablebeing to act without a plan, and to be sad or chearful only by chance.ÒHappiness,Ó said he, Òmust be something solid and permanent, withoutfear and without uncertainty.

But his young companions had gained so much of his regard by theirfrankness and courtesy, that he could not leave them without warningand remonstrance. ÒMy friends,Ó said he, ÒI have seriously consideredour manners and our prospects, and find that we have mistaken our owninterest. The first years of man must make provision for the last. He thatnever thinks never can be wise. Perpetual levity must end in ignorance;and intemperance, though it may fire the spirits for an hour, will makelife short or miserable. Let us consider that youth is of no long duration,and that in maturer age, when the enchantments of fancy shall cease, andphantoms of delight dance no more about us, we shall have no comfortsbut the esteem of wise men, and the means of doing good. Let us,therefore, stop, while to stop is in our power: let us live as men who aresometime to grow old, and to whom it will be the most dreadful of allevils not to count their past years but by follies, and to be reminded oftheir former luxuriance of health only by the maladies which riot hasproduced.Ó They stared a while in silence one upon another, and, at last,drove him away by a general chorus of continued laughter.

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The consciousness that his sentiments were just, and his intentionskind, was scarcely sufficient to support him against the horrour ofderision. But he recovered his tranquility, and persued his search.

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18. The prince finds a wise and happy man

As he was one day walking in the street, he saw a spacious buildingwhich all were, by the open doors, invited to enter: he followed thestream of people, and found it a hall or school of declamation, in whichprofessors read lectures to their auditory. He fixed his eye upon a sageraised above the rest, who discoursed with great energy on thegovernment of the passions. His look was venerable, his action graceful,his pronunciation clear, and his diction elegant. He shewed, with greatstrength of sentiment, and variety of illustration, that human nature isdegraded and debased, when the lower faculties predominate over thehigher; that when fancy, the parent of passion, usurps the dominion ofthe mind, nothing ensues but the natural effect of unlawful government,perturbation and confusion; that she betrays the fortresses of the intellectto rebels, and excites her children to sedition against reason their lawfulsovereign. He compared reason to the sun, of which the light is constant,uniform, and lasting; and fancy to a meteor, of bright but transitorylustre, irregular in its motion, and delusive in its direction. He thencommunicated the various precepts given from time to time for theconquest of passion, and displayed the happiness of those who hadobtained the important victory, after which man is no longer the slave offear, nor the fool of hope; is no more emaciated by envy, inflamed byanger, emasculated by tenderness, or depressed by grief; but walks oncalmly through the tumults or the privacies of life, as the sun persuesalike his course through the calm or the stormy sky.

He enumerated many examples of heroes immovable by pain orpleasure, who looked with indifference on those modes or accidents towhich the vulgar give the names of good and evil. He exhorted hishearers to lay aside their prejudices, and arm themselves against theshafts of malice or misfortune, by invulnerable patience; concluding, thatthis state only was happiness, and that this happiness was in every oneÕspower. Rasselas listened to him with the veneration due to theinstructions of a superior being, and, waiting for him at the door, humblyimplored the liberty of visiting so great a master of true wisdom. Thelecturer hesitated a moment, when Rasselas put a purse of gold into hishand, which he received with a mixture of joy and wonder.

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ÒI have found,Ó said the prince, Òat his return to Imlac, a man whocan teach all that is necessary to be known, who, from the unshakenthrone of rational fortitude, looks down on the scenes of life changingbeneath him. He speaks, and attention watches his lips. He reasons, andconviction closes his periods. This man shall be my future guide: I willlearn his doctrines, and imitate his life.Ó

ÒBe not too hasty,Ó said Imlac, Òto trust, or to admire, the teachers ofmorality: they discourse like angels, but they live like men.Ó

Rasselas, who could not conceive how any man could reason soforcibly without feeling the cogency of his own arguments, paid his visitin a few days, and was denied admission. He had now learned thepower of money, and made his way by a piece of gold to the innerapartment, where he found the philosopher in a room half darkened,with his eyes misty, and his face pale. ÒSir,Ó said he, Òyou are come at atime when all human friendship is useless; what I suffer cannot beremedied, what I have lost cannot be supplied. My daughter my onlydaughter, from whose tenderness I expected all the comforts of my age,died last night of a fever. My views, my purposes, my hopes are at anend: I am now a lonely being disunited from society.Ó

ÒSir,Ó said the prince, Òmortality is an event by which a wise man cannever be surprised: we know that death is always near, and it shouldtherefore always be expected.Ó ÒYoung man,Ó answered the philosopher,Òyou speak like one that has never felt the pangs of separation.Ó ÒHaveyou then forgot the precepts,Ó said Rasselas, Òwhich you so powerfullyenforced? Has wisdom no strength to arm the heart against calamity?Consider, that external things are naturally variable, but truth and reasonare always the same.Ó ÒWhat comfort,Ó said the mourner, Òcan truth andreason afford me? of what effect are they now, but to tell me, that mydaughter will not be restored?Ó

The prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult miserywith reproof, went away convinced of the emptiness of rhetorical sound,and the inefficacy of polished periods and studied sentences.

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19. A glimpse of pastoral life

He was still eager upon the same enquiry; and, having heard of ahermit, that lived near the lowest cataract of the Nile, and filled thewhole country with the fame of his sanctity, resolved to visit his retreat,and enquire whether that felicity, which publick life could not afford,was to be found in solitude; and whether a man, whose age and virtuemade him venerable, could teach any peculiar art of shunning evils, orenduring them.

Imlac and the princess agreed to accompany him, and, after thenecessary preparations, they began their journey. Their way lay throughfields, where shepherds tended their flocks, and the lambs were playingupon the pasture. ÒThis,Ó said the poet, Òis the life which has been oftencelebrated for its innocence and quiet: let us pass the heat of the dayamong the shepherds tents, and know whether all our searches are not toterminate in pastoral simplicity.Ó

The proposal pleased them, and they induced the sheperds, by smallpresents and familiar questions, to tell their opinion of their own state:they were so rude and ignorant, so little able to compare the good withthe evil of the occupation, and so indistinct in their narratives anddescriptions, that very little could be learned from them. But it wasevident that their hearts were cankered with discontent; that theyconsidered themselves as condemned to labour for the luxury of the rich,and looked up with stupid malevolence toward those that were placedabove them.

The princess pronounced with vehemence, that she would neversuffer these envious savages to be her companions, and that she shouldnot soon be desirous of seeing any more specimens of rustick happiness;but could not believe that all the accounts of primeval pleasures werefabulous, and was yet in doubt whether life had any thing that could bejustly preferred to the placid gratifications of fields and woods. Shehoped that the time would come, when with a few virtuous and elegantcompanions, she should gather flowers planted by her own hand, fondlethe lambs of her own ewe, and listen, without care, among brooks andbreezes, to one of her maidens reading in the shade.

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20. The dangers of prosperity.

On the next day they continued their journey, till the heat compelledthem to look round for shelter. At a small distance they saw a thickwood, which they no sooner entered than they perceived that they wereapproaching the habitations of men. The shrubs were diligently cut awayto open walks where the shades were darkest; the boughs of oppositetrees were artificially interwoven; seats of flowery turf were raised invacant spaces, and a rivulet, that wantoned along the side of a windingpath, had its banks sometimes opened into small basons, and its streamsometimes obstructed by little mounds of stone heaped together toincrease its murmurs. They passed slowly through the wood, delightedwith such unexpected accommodations, and entertained each other withconjecturing what, or who, he could be, that, in those rude andunfrequented regions, had leisure and art for such harmless luxury.

As they advanced, they heard the sound of musick, and saw youthsand virgins dancing in the grove; and, going still further, beheld a statelypalace built upon a hill surrounded with woods. The laws of easternhospitality allowed them to enter, and the master welcomed them like aman liberal and wealthy.

He was skilful enough in appearances soon to discern that they wereno common guests, and spread his table with magnificence. Theeloquence of Imlac caught his attention, and the lofty courtesy of theprincess excited his respect. When they offered to depart he entreatedtheir stay, and was the next day still more unwilling to dismiss them thanbefore. They were easily persuaded to stop, and civility grew up in timeto freedom and confidence. The prince now saw all the domestickscheerful, and all the face of nature smiling round the place, and could notforbear to hope that he should find here what he was seeking; but whenhe was congratulating the master upon his possessions, he answered witha sigh, ÒMy condition has indeed the appearance of happiness, butappearances are delusive. My prosperity puts my life in danger; the Bassaof Egypt is my enemy, incensed only by my wealth and popularity. Ihave been hitherto protected against him by the princes of the country;but, as the favour of the great is uncertain, I know not how soon mydefenders may be persuaded to share the plunder with the Bassa. I have

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sent my treasures into a distant country, and, upon the first alarm, amprepared to follow them. Then will my enemies riot in my mansion, andenjoy the gardens which I have planted.Ó They all joined in lamenting hisdanger, and deprecating his exile; and the princess was so muchdisturbed with the tumult of grief and indignation, that she retired toher apartment. They continued with their kind inviter a few days longer,and then went forward to find the hermit.

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21. The happiness of solitude. The hermitÕs history

They came on the third day, by the direction of the peasants, to theHermitÕs cell: it was a cavern in the side of the mountain, over-shadowedwith palm-trees; at such a distance from the cataract, that nothing morewas heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as composed the mind topensive meditation, especially when it was assisted by the windwhistling among the branches. The first rude essay of nature had been somuch improved by human labour, that the cave contained severalapartments, appropriated to different uses, and often afforded lodgingto travellers, whom darkness or tempests happened to overtake.

The Hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness of theevening. On one side lay a book with pens and papers, on the othermechanical instruments of various kinds. As they approached himunregarded, the princess observed that he had not the countenance of aman that had found, or could teach, the way to happiness.

They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid like a man notunaccustomed to the forms of courts, ÒMy children,Ó said he, Òif youhave lost your way, you shall be willingly supplied with suchconveniences for the night as this cavern will afford. I have all thatnature requires, and you will not expect delicacies in a HermitÕs cell.Ó

They thanked him, and entering, were pleased with the neatness andregularity of the place. The Hermit set flesh and wine before them,though he fed only upon fruits and water. His discourse was chearfulwithout levity, and pious without enthusiasm. He soon gained theesteem of his guests, and the princess repented of her hasty censure. Atlast Imlac began thus: ÒI do not now wonder that your reputation is sofar extended; we have heard at Cairo of your wisdom, and came hitherto implore your direction for this young man and maiden in the choice oflife.Ó

ÒTo him that lives well, answered the hermit, every form of life isgood; nor can I give any other rule for choice, than to remove from allapparent evil.Ó

ÒHe will remove most certainly from evil,Ó said the prince, Òwho shalldevote himself to that solitude which you have recommended by yourexample.Ó

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ÒI have indeed lived fifteen years in solitude,Ó said the hermit, Òbuthave no desire that my example should gain any imitators. In my youth Iprofessed arms, and was raised by degrees to the highest military rank. Ihave traversed wide countries at the head of my troops, and seen manybattles and sieges. At last, being disgusted by the preferent of a youngerofficer, and feeling that my vigour was beginning to decay, I resolved toclose my life in peace, having found the world full of snares, discord, andmisery. I had once escaped from the persuit of the enemy by the shelterof this cavern, and therefore chose it for my final residence. I employedartificers to form it into chambers, and stored it with all that I was likelyto want.

ÒFor some time after my retreat, I rejoiced like a tempest-beatensailor at his entrance into the harbour, being delighted with the suddenchange of the noise and hurry of war, to stillness and repose. When thepleasure of novelty went away, I employed my hours in examining theplants which grow in the valley, and the minerals which I collected fromthe rocks. But that enquiry is now grown tasteless and irksome. I havebeen for some time unsettled and distracted: my mind is disturbed witha thousand perplexities of doubt, and vanities of imagination, whichhourly prevail upon me, because I have no opportunities of relaxation ordiversion. I am sometimes ashamed to think that I could not securemyself from vice, but by retiring from the exercise of virtue, and begin tosuspect that I was rather impelled by resentment, than led by devotion,into solitude. My fancy riots in scenes of folly, and I lament that I havelost so much, and have gained so little. In solitude, if I escape theexample of bad men, I want likewise the counsel and conversation of thegood. I have been long comparing the evils with the advantages ofsociety, and resolve to return into the world tomorrow. The life of asolitary man will be certainly miserable, but not certainly devout.Ó

They heard his resolution with surprise, but, after a short pause,offered to conduct him to Cairo. He dug up a considerable treasurewhich he had hid among the rocks, and accompanied them to the city, onwhich, as he approached it, he gazed with rapture.

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22. The happiness of a life led according to nature

Rasselas went often to an assembly of learned men, who met at statedtimes to unbend their minds, and compare their opinions. Their mannerswere somewhat coarse, but their conversation was instructive, and theirdisputations acute, though sometimes too violent, and often continuedtill neither controvertist remembered upon what question they began.Some faults were almost general among them: every one was desirous todictate to the rest, and every one was pleased to hear the genius orknowledge of another depreciated.

In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the hermit,and the wonder with which he heard him censure a course of life whichhe had so deliberately chosen, and so laudably followed. The sentimentsof the hearers were various. Some were of opinion, that the folly of hischoice had been justly punished by condemnation to perpetualperseverance. One of the youngest among them, with great vehemence,pronounced him an hypocrite. Some talked of the right of society to thelabour of individuals, and considered retirement as a desertion of duty.Others readily allowed, that there was a time when the claims of thepublick were satisfied, and when a man might properly sequesterhimself, to review his life, and purify his heart.

One, who appeared more affected with the narrative than the rest,thought it likely, that the hermit would, in a few years, go back to hisretreat, and, perhaps, if shame did not restrain, or death intercept him,return once more from his retreat into the world: ÒFor the hope ofhappiness,Ó said he, Òis so strongly impressed, that the longestexperience is not able to efface it. Of the present state, whatever it be, wefeel, and are forced to confess, the misery, yet, when the same state isagain at a distance, imagination paints it as desirable. But the time willsurely come, when desire will be no longer our torment, and no manshall be wretched but by his own fault.Ó

ÒThis,Ó said a philosopher, Òwho had heard him with tokens of greatimpatience, is the present condition of a wise man. The time is alreadycome, when none are wretched but by their own fault. Nothing is moreidle, than to inquire after happiness, which nature has kindly placedwithin our reach. The way to be happy is to live according to nature, in

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obedience to that universal and unalterable law with which every heart isoriginally impressed; which is not written on it by precept, but engravenby destiny, not instilled by education but infused at our nativity. He thatlives according to nature will suffer nothing from the delusions of hope,or importunities of desire: he will receive and reject with equability oftemper; and act or suffer as the reason of things shall alternatelyprescribe. Other men may amuse themselves with subtle definitions, orintricate raciocination. Let them learn to be wise by easier means: letthem observe the hind of the forest, and the linnet of the grove: let themconsider the life of animals, whose motions are regulated by instinct;they obey their guide and are happy. Let us therefore, at length, cease todispute, and learn to live; throw away the incumbrance of precepts,which they who utter them with so much pride and pomp do notunderstand, and carry with us this simple and intelligible maxim, Thatdeviation from nature is deviation from happiness.Ó

When he had spoken, he looked round him with a placid air, andenjoyed the consciousness of his own beneficence.

ÒSir,Ó said the prince, with great modesty, Òas I, like all the rest ofmankind, am desirous of felicity, my closest attention has been fixedupon your discourse: I doubt not the truth of a position which a man solearned has so confidently advanced. Let me only know what it is to liveaccording to nature.Ó

ÒWhen I find young men so humble and so docile,Ó said thephilosopher, ÒI can deny them no information which my studies haveenabled me to afford. To live according to nature, is to act always withdue regard to the fitness arising from the relations and qualities of causesand effects; to concur with the great and unchangeable scheme ofuniversal felicity; to co-operate with the general disposition andtendency of the present system of things.Ó

The prince soon found that this was one of the sages whom he shouldunderstand less as he heard him longer. He therefore bowed and wassilent, and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied, and the restvanquished, rose up and departed with the air of a man that hadco-operated with the present system.

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23. The prince and his sister divide between them the work ofobservation

Rasselas returned home full of reflexions, doubtful how to direct hisfuture steps. Of the way to happiness he found the learned and simpleequally ignorant; but, as he was yet young, he flattered himself that hehad time remaining for more experiments, and further enquiries. Hecommunicated to Imlac his observations and his doubts, but wasanswered by him with new doubts, and remarks that gave him nocomfort. He therefore discoursed more frequently and freely with hissister, who had yet the same hope with himself, and always assisted himto give some reason why, though he had been hitherto frustrated, hemight succeed at last.

ÒWe have hitherto,Ó said she, Òknown but little of the world: we havenever yet been either great or mean. In our own country, though we hadroyalty, we had no power, and in this we have not yet seen the privaterecesses of domestick peace. Imlac favours not our search, lest we shouldin time find him mistaken. We will divide the task between us: you shalltry what is to be found in the splendour of courts, and I will range theshades of humbler life. Perhaps command and authority may be thesupreme blessings, as they afford most opportunities of doing good: or,perhaps, what this world can give may be found in the modesthabitations of middle fortune; too low for great designs, and too high forpenury and distress.Ó

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24. The prince examines the happiness of high stations

Rasselas applauded the design, and appeared next day with asplendid retinue at the court of the Bassa. He was soon distinguished forhis magnificence, and admitted, as a prince whose curiosity had broughthim from distant countries, to an intimacy with the great officers, andfrequent conversation with the Bassa himself.

He was at first inclined to believe, that the man must be pleased withhis own condition, whom all approached with reverence, and heard withobedience, and who had the power to extend his edicts to a wholekingdom. ÒThere can be no pleasure,Ó said he, Òequal to that of feeling atonce the joy of thousands all made happy by wise administration. Yet,since, by the law of subordination, this sublime delight can be in onenation but the lot of one, it is surely reasonable to think that there issome satisfaction more popular and accessible, and that millions canhardly be subjected to the will of a single man, only to fill his particularbreast with incommunicable content.Ó

These thoughts were often in his mind, and he found no solution ofthe difficulty. But as presents and civilities gained him more familiarity,he found that almost every man who stood high in employment hated allthe rest, and was hated by them, and that their lives were a continualsuccession of plots and detections, stratagems and escapes, faction andtreachery, Many of those, who surrounded the Bassa, were sent only towatch and report his conduct; every tongue was muttering censure andevery eye was searching for a fault.

At last the letters of revocation arrived, the Bassa was carried inchains to Constantinople, and his name was mentioned no more.

ÒWhat are we now to think of the prerogatives of power,Ó saidRasselas to his sister; Òis it without any efficacy to good? or, is thesubordinate degree only dangerous, and the supreme safe and glorious?Is the Sultan the only happy man in his dominions? or, is the Sultanhimself subject to the torments of suspicion, and the dread of enemies?Ó

In a short time the second Bassa was deposed. The Sultan, that hadadvanced him, was murdered by the Janisaries, and his successor hadother views and different favourites.

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25. The princess persues her enquiry with more diligence than success

The princess, in the mean time, insinuated herself into many families;for there are few doors, through which liberality, joined with goodhumour, cannot find its way. The daughters of many houses were airyand chearful, but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to theconversation of Imlac and her brother to be much pleased with childishlevity and prattle which had no meaning. She found their thoughtsnarrow, their wishes low, and their merriment often artificial. Theirpleasures, poor as they were, could not be preserved pure, but wereembittered by petty competitions and worthless emulation. They werealways jealous of the beauty of each other; of a quality to whichsolicitude can add nothing, and from which detraction can take nothingaway. Many were in love with triflers like themselves, and many fanciedthat they were in love when in truth they were only idle. Their affectionwas seldom fixed on sense or virtue, and therefore seldom ended but invexation. Their grief, however, like their joy, was transient; every thingfloated in their mind unconnected with the past or future, so that onedesire easily gave way to another, as a second stone cast into the watereffaces and confounds the circles of the first.

With these girls she played as with inoffensive animals, and foundthem proud of her countenance, and weary of her company.

But her purpose was to examine more deeply, and her affability easilypersuaded the hearts that were swelling with sorrow to discharge theirsecrets in her ear: and those whom hope flattered, or prosperitydelighted, often courted her to partake their pleasures.

The princess and her brother commonly met in the evening in aprivate summer-house on the bank of the Nile, and related to each otherthe occurrences of the day. As they were sitting together, the princesscast her eyes upon the river that flowed before her. ÒAnswer,Ó said she,Ògreat father of waters, thou that rollest thy floods through eightynations, to the invocations of the daughter of thy native king. Tell me ifthou waterest, through all thy course, a single habitation from whichthou dost not hear the murmurs of complaint?Ó

ÒYou are then,Ó said Rasselas, Ònot more successful in private housesthan I have been in courts.Ó ÒI have, since the last partition of our

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provinces,Ó said the princess, Òenabled myself to enter familiarly intomany families, where there was the fairest show of prosperity and peace,and know not one house that is not haunted by some fury that destroysits quiet.

ÒI did not seek ease among the poor, because I concluded that there itcould not be found. But I saw many poor whom I had supposed to live inaffluence. Poverty has, in large cities, very different appearances: it isoften concealed in splendour, and often in extravagance. It is the care ofa very great part of mankind to conceal their indigence from the rest:they support themselves by temporary expedients, and every day is lostin contriving for the morrow.

ÒThis, however, was an evil, which, though frequent, I saw with lesspain, because I could relieve it. Yet some have refused my bounties; moreoffended with my quickness to detect their wants, than pleased with myreadiness to succour them: and others, whose exigencies compelled themto admit my kindness, have never been able to forgive their benefactress.Many, however, have been sincerely grateful without the ostentation ofgratitude, or the hope of other favours.Ó

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26. The princess continues her remarks upon private life

Nekayah perceiving her brotherÕs attention fixed, proceeded in hernarrative.

ÒIn families, where there is or is not poverty, there is commonlydiscord: if a kingdom be, as Imlac tells us, a great family, a familylikewise is a little kingdom, torn with factions and exposed torevolutions. An unpractised observer, expects the love of parents andchildren to be constant and equal; but this kindness seldom continuesbeyond the years of infancy: in a short time the children become rivals totheir parents. Benefits are allayed by reproaches, and gratitude debasedby envy.

ÒParents and children seldom act in concert: each child endeavours toappropriate the esteem or fondness of the parents, and the parents, withyet less temptation, betray each other to their children; thus some placetheir confidence in the father, and some in the mother, and, by degrees,the house is filled with artifices and feuds.

ÒThe opinions of children and parents, of the young and the old, arenaturally opposite, by the contrary effects of hope and despondence, ofexpectation and experience, without crime or folly on either side. Thecolours of life in youth and age appear different, as the face of nature inspring and winter. And how can children credit the assertions of parents,which their own eyes show them to be false?

ÒFew parents act in such a manner as much to enforce their maximsby the credit of their lives. The old man trusts wholly to slowcontrivance and gradual progression: the youth expects to force his wayby genius, vigour, and precipitance. The old man pays regard to riches,and the youth reverences virtue. The old man deifies prudence: theyouth commits himself to magnanimity and chance. The young man, whointends no ill, believes that none is intended, and therefore acts withopenness and candour: but his father, having suffered the injuries offraud, is impelled to suspect, and too often allured to practice it. Agelooks with anger on the temerity of youth, and youth with contempt onthe scrupulosity of age. Thus parents and children, for the greatest part,live on to love less and less: and, if those whom nature has thus closely

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united are the torments of each other, where shall we look fortenderness and consolation?Ó

ÒSurely,Ó said the prince, Òyou must have been unfortunate in yourchoice of acquaintance: I am unwilling to believe, that the most tender ofall relations is thus impeded in its, effects by natural necessity.Ó

ÒDomestick discord,Ó answered she, Òis not inevitably and fatallynecessary; but yet is not easily avoided. We seldom see that a wholefamily is virtuous: the good and evil cannot well agree; and the evil canyet less agree with one another: even the virtuous fall sometimes tovariance, when their virtues are of different kinds and tending toextremes. In general, those parents have most reverence who mostdeserve it: for he that lives well cannot be despised.

ÒMany other evils infest private life. Some are the slaves of servantswhom they have trusted with their affairs. Some are kept in continualanxiety to the caprice of rich relations, whom they cannot please, anddare not offend. Some husbands are imperious, and some wivesperverse: and, as it is always more easy to do evil than good, though thewisdom or virtue of one can very rarely make many happy, the folly orvice of one may often make many miserable.Ó

ÒIf such be the general effect of marriage,Ó said the prince, ÒI shall,for the future, think it dangerous to connect my interest with that ofanother, lest I should be unhappy by my partnerÕs fault.Ó

ÒI have met,Ó said the princess, Òwith many who live single for thatreason; but I never found that their prudence ought to raise envy. Theydream away their time without friendship, without fondness, and aredriven to rid themselves of the day, for which they have no use, bychildish amusements, or vicious delights. They act as beings under theconstant sense of some known inferiority, that fills their minds withrancour, and their tongues with censure. They are peevish at home, andmalevolent abroad; and, as the out-laws of human nature, make it theirbusiness and their pleasure to disturb that society which debars themfrom its privileges. To live without feeling or exciting sympathy, to befortunate without adding to the felicity of others, or afflicted withouttasting the balm of pity, is a state more gloomy than solitude: it is notretreat but exclusion from mankind. Marriage has many pains, butcelibacy has no pleasures.Ó

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ÒWhat then is to be done?Ó said Rasselas; Òthe more we enquire, theless we can resolve. Surely he is most likely to please himself that has noother inclination to regard.Ó

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27. Disquisition upon greatness

The conversation had a short pause. The prince having considered hissisterÕs observations, told her, that she had surveyed life with prejudice,and supposed misery where she did not find it. ÒYour narrative,Ó sayshe, Òthrows yet a darker gloom upon the prospects of futurity: thepredictions of Imlac were but faint sketches of the evils painted byNekayah. I have been lately convinced that quiet is not the daughter ofgrandeur, or of power: that her presence is not to be bought by wealth,nor enforced by conquest. It is evident, that as any man acts in a widercompass, he must be more exposed to opposition from enmity ormiscarriage from chance; whoever has many to please or to govern, mustuse the ministry of many agents, some of whom will be wicked, andsome ignorant; by some he will be misled, and by others betrayed. If hegratifies one he will offend another: those that are not favoured willthink themselves injured; and, since favours can be conferred but uponfew, the greater number will be always discontented.Ó

ÒThe discontent,Ó said the princess, Òwhich is thus unreasonable, Ihope that I shall always have spirit to despise, and you, power torepress.

ÒDiscontent,Ó answered Rasselas, Òwill not always be without reasonunder the most just or vigilant administration of publick affairs. None,however attentive, can always discover that merit which indigence orfaction may happen to obscure; and none, however powerful, can alwaysreward it. Yet, he that sees inferiour desert advanced above him, willnaturally impute that preference to partiality or caprice; and, indeed, itcan scarcely be hoped that any man, however magnanimous by nature, orexalted by condition, will be able to persist for ever in fixed andinexorable justice of distribution: he will sometimes indulge his ownaffections, and sometimes those of his favourites; he will permit some toplease him who can never serve him; he will discover in those whom heloves qualities which in reality they do not possess; and to those, fromwhom he receives pleasure, he will in his turn endeavour to give it. Thuswill recommendations sometimes prevail which were purchased bymoney, or by the more destructive bribery of flattery and servility.

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ÒHe that has much to do will do something wrong, and of that wrongmust suffer the consequences; and, if it were possible that he shouldalways act rightly, yet when such numbers are to judge of his conduct,the bad will censure and obstruct him by malevolence, and the goodsometimes by mistake.

ÒThe highest stations cannot therefore hope to be the abodes ofhappiness, which I would willingly believe to have fled from thrones andpalaces to seats of humble privacy and placid obscurity. For what canhinder the satisfaction, or intercept the expectations, of him whoseabilities are adequate to his employments, who sees with his own eyesthe whole circuit of his influence, who chooses by his own knowledge allwhom he trusts, and whom none are tempted to deceive by hope or fear?Surely he has nothing to do but to love and to be loved, to be virtuousand to be happy.Ó

ÒWhether perfect happiness would be procured by perfect goodness,Ósaid Nekayah, Òthis world will never afford an opportunity of deciding.But this, at least, may be maintained, that we do not always find visiblehappiness in proportion to visible virtue. All natural and almost allpolitical evils, are incident alike to the bad and good: they areconfounded in the misery of a famine, and not much distinguished in thefury of a faction; they sink together in a tempest, and are driven togetherfrom their country by invaders. All that virtue can afford is quietness ofconscience, a steady prospect of a happier state; this may enable us toendure calamity with patience; but remember that patience must supposepain.Ó

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28. Rasselas and Nekayah continue their conversation

ÒDear princess,Ó said Rasselas, Òyou fall into the common errours ofexaggeratory declamation, by producing, in a familiar disquisition,examples of national calamities, and scenes of extensive misery, whichare found in books rather than in the world, and which, as they arehorrid, are ordained to be rare. Let us not imagine evils which we do notfeel, nor injure life by misrepresentations. I cannot bear that querulouseloquence which threatens every city with a siege like that of Jerusalem,that makes famine attend on every flight of locusts, and suspendspestilence on the wing of every blast that issues from the south.

ÒOn necessary and inevitable evils, which overwhelm kingdoms atonce, all disputation is vain: when they happen they must be endured.But it is evident, that these bursts of universal distress are more dreadedthan felt: thousands and ten thousands flourish in youth, and wither inage, without the knowledge of any other than domestick evils, and sharethe same pleasures and vexations whether their kings are mild or cruel,whether the armies of their country persue their enemies, or retreatbefore them. While courts are disturbed with intestine competitions, andambassadours are negotiating in foreign countries, the smith still plies hisanvil, and the husbandman drives his plow forward; the necessaries oflife are required and obtained, and the successive business of the seasonscontinues to make its wonted revolutions.

ÒLet us cease to consider what, perhaps, may never happen, andwhat, when it shall happen, will laugh at human speculation. We will notendeavour to modify the motions of the elements, or to fix the destiny ofkingdoms. It is our business to consider what beings like us mayperform; each labouring for his own happiness, by promoting within hiscircle, however narrow, the happiness of others.

ÒMarriage is evidently the dictate of nature; men and women weremade to be companions of each other, and therefore I cannot bepersuaded but that marriage is one of the means of happiness.Ó

ÒI know not,Ó said the princess, Òwhether marriage be more than oneof the innumerable modes of human misery. When I see and reckon thevarious forms of connubial infelicity, the unexpected causes of lastingdiscord, the diversities of temper, the oppositions of opinion, the rude

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collisions of contrary desire where both are urged by violent impulses,the obstinate contests of disagreeing virtues, where both are supportedby consciousness of good intention, I am sometimes disposed to thinkwith the severer casuists of most nations, that marriage is ratherpermitted than approved, and that none, but by the instigation of apassion too much indulged, entangle themselves with indissolublecompacts.Ó

ÒYou seem to forget,Ó replied Rasselas, Òthat you have, even now,represented celibacy as less happy than marriage. Both conditions may bebad, but they cannot both be worst. Thus it happens when wrongopinions are entertained, that they mutually destroy each other, andleave the mind open to truth.Ó

ÒI did not expect,Ó answered the princess, Òto hear that imputed tofalshood which is the consequence only of frailty. To the mind, as to theeye, it is difficult to compare with exactness objects vast in their extent,and various in their parts. Where we see or conceive the whole at oncewe readily note the discriminations and decide the preference: but oftwo systems, of which neither can be surveyed by any human being in itsfull compass of magnitude and multiplicity of complication, where is thewonder, that judging of the whole by parts, I am alternately affected byone and the other as either presses on my memory or fancy? We differfrom ourselves just as we differ from each other, when we see only partof the question, as in the multifarious relations of politicks and morality:but when we perceive the whole at once, as in numerical computations,all agree in one judgment, and none ever varies his opinion.Ó

ÒLet us not add,Ó said the prince, Òto the other evils of life, thebitterness of controversy, nor endeavour to vie with each other insubtilties of argument. We are employed in a search, of which both areequally to enjoy the success, or suffer by the miscarriage. It is thereforefit that we assist each other. You surely conclude too hastily from theinfelicity of marriage against its institution; will not the misery of lifeprove equally that life cannot be the gift of heaven? The world must bepeopled by marriage, or peopled without it.

ÒHow the world is to be peopled,Ó returned Nekayah, Òis not mycare, and needs not be yours. I see no danger that the present generation

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should omit to leave successors behind them: we are not now enquiringfor the world, but for ourselves.Ó

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29. The debate on marriage continued

ÒThe good of the whole,Ó says Rasselas, Òis the same with the good ofall its parts. If marriage be best for mankind it must be evidently best forindividuals, or a permanent and necessary duty must be the cause of evil,and some must be inevitably sacrificed to the convenience of others. Inthe estimate which you have made of the two states, it appears that theincommodities of a single life are, in a great measure, necessary andcertain, but those of the conjugal state accidental and avoidable.

ÒI cannot forbear to flatter myself that prudence and benevolence willmake marriage happy. The general folly of mankind is the cause ofgeneral complaint. What can be expected but disappointment andrepentance from a choice made in the immaturity of youth, in the ardourof desire, without judgment without foresight, without an enquiry afterconformity of opinions, similarity of manners, rectitude of judgment, orpurity of sentiment.

ÒSuch is the common process of marriage. A youth and maidenmeeting by chance, or brought together by artifice, exchange glances,reciprocate civilities, go home, and dream of one another. Having little todivert attention, or diversify thought, they find themselves uneasy whenthey are apart, and therefore conclude that they shall be happy together.They marry, and discover what nothing but voluntary blindness hadbefore concealed; they wear out life in altercations, and charge naturewith cruelty.

ÒFrom those early marriages proceeds likewise the rivalry of parentsand children: the son is eager to enjoy the world before the father iswilling to forsake it, and there is hardly room at once for twogenerations. The daughter begins to bloom before the mother can becontent to fade, and neither can forbear to wish for the absence of theother. ÒSurely all these evils may be avoided by that deliberation anddelay which prudence prescribes to irrevocable choice. In the variety andjollity of youthful pleasures life may be well enough supported withoutthe help of a partner. Longer time will increase experience, and widerviews will allow better opportunities of enquiry and selection: oneadvantage, at least, will be certain; the parents will be visibly older thantheir children.Ó

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ÒWhat reason cannot collect,Ó said Nekayah, Òand what experimenthas not yet taught, can be known only from the report of others. I havebeen told that late marriages are not eminently happy. This is a questiontoo important to be neglected, and I have often proposed it to those,whose accuracy of remark, and comprehensiveness of knowledge, madetheir suffrages worthy of regard. They have generally determined, that itis dangerous for a man and woman to suspend their fate upon eachother, at a time when opinions are fixed, and habits are established;when friendships have been contracted on both sides, when life has beenplanned into method, and the mind has long enjoyed the contemplationof its own prospects. It is scarcely possible that two travelling throughthe world under the conduct of chance, should have been both directedto the same path, and it will not often happen that either will quit thetrack which custom has made pleasing. When the desultory levity ofyouth has settled into regularity, it is soon succeeded by pride ashamedto yield, or obstinacy delighting to contend. And even though mutualesteem produces mutual desire to please, time itself, as it modifiesunchangeably the external mien, determines likewise the direction of thepassions, and gives an inflexible rigidity to the manners. Long customsare not easily broken: he that attempts to change the course of his ownlife, very often labours in vain; and how shall we do that for otherswhich we are seldom able to do for ourselves?Ó

ÒBut surely,Ó interposed the prince, Òyou suppose the chief motive ofchoice forgotten or neglected. Whenever I shall seek a wife, it shall bemy first question, whether she be willing to be led by reason?Ó

ÒThus it is,Ó said Nekayah, Òthat philosophers are deceived. There area thousand familiar disputes which reason never can decide; questionsthat elude investigation, and make logick ridiculous; cases wheresomething must be done, and where little can be said. Consider the stateof mankind, and enquire how few can be supposed to act upon anyoccasions, whether small or great, with all the reasons of action presentto their minds. Wretched would be the pair above all names ofwretchedness, who should be doomed to adjust by reason everymorning all the minute detail of a domestick day.

ÒThose who marry at an advanced age, will probably escape theencroachments of their children; but, in diminution of this advantage,

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they will be likely to leave them, ignorant and helpless, to a guardianÕsmercy: or, if that should not happen, they must at least go out of theworld before they see those whom they love best either wise or great.

ÒFrom their children, if they have less to fear, they have less also tohope, and they lose, without equivalent the joys of early love and theconvenience of uniting with manners pliant, and minds susceptible ofnew impressions, which might wear away their dissimilitudes by longcohabitation, as soft bodies, by continual attrition, conform their surfacesto each other.

ÒI believe it will be found that those who marry late are best pleasedwith their children, and those who marry early with their partners.Ó

ÒThe union of these two affections,Ó said Rasselas, Òwould produceall that could be wished. Perhaps there is a time when marriage mightunite them, a time neither too early for the father, nor too late for thehusband.Ó

ÒEvery hour,Ó answered the princess, Òconfirms my prejudice infavour of the position so often uttered by the mouth of Imlac, ÔThatnature sets her gifts on the right hand and on the left.Õ Those conditions,which flatter hope and attract desire, are so constituted, that, as weapproach one, we recede from another. There are goods so opposed thatwe cannot seize both, but, by too much prudence, may pass betweenthem as too great a distance to reach either. This is often the fate of longconsideration; he does nothing who endeavours to do more than isallowed to humanity. Flatter not yourself with contrarieties of pleasure.Of the blessings set before you make your choice, and be content. Noman can taste the fruits of autumn while he is delighting his scent withthe flowers of the spring: no man can, at the same time, fill his cup fromthe source and from the mouth of the Nile.Ó

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30. Imlac enters, and changes the conversation

Here Imlac entered, and interrupted them. ÒImlac,Ó said Rasselas, ÒIhave been taking from the princess the dismal history of private life, andam almost discouraged from further search.Ó

ÒIt seems to me,Ó said Imlac, Òthat while you are making the choiceof life, you neglect to live. You wander about a single city, which,however large and diversified, can now afford few novelties, and forgetthat you are in a country, famous among the earliest monarchies for thepower and wisdom of its inhabitants; a country where the sciences firstdawned that illuminate the world, and beyond which the arts cannot betraced of civil society or domestick life.

ÒThe old Egyptians have left behind them monuments of industryand power before which all European magnificence is confessed to fadeaway. The ruins of their architecture are the schools of modern builders,and from the wonders which time has spared we may conjecture, thoughuncertainly, what it has destroyed.Ó

ÒMy curiosity,Ó said Rasselas, Òdoes not very strongly lead me tosurvey piles of stone, or mounds of earth; my business is with man. Icame hither not to measure fragments of temples, or trace choakedaqueducts, but to look upon the various scenes of the present world.Ó

ÒThe things that are now before us,Ó said the princess, Òrequireattention, and deserve it. What have I to do with the heroes or themonuments of ancient times? with times which never can return, andheroes, whose form of life was different from all that the presentcondition of mankind requires or allows.Ó

ÒTo know any thing,Ó returned the poet, Òwe must know its effects;to see men we must see their works, that we may learn what reason hasdictated, or passion has incited, and find what are the most powerfulmotives of action. To judge rightly of the present we must oppose it tothe past; for all judgment is comparative, and of the future nothing canbe known. The truth is, that no mind is much employed upon thepresent: recollection and anticipation fill up almost all our moments. Ourpassions are joy and grief, love and hatred, hope and fear. Of joy andgrief the past is the object, and the future of hope and fear; even love andhatred respect the past, for the cause must have been before the effect.

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ÒThe present state of things is the consequence of the former, and it isnatural to inquire what were the sources of the good that we enjoy, or ofthe evil that we suffer. If we act only for ourselves, to neglect the studyof history is not prudent: if we are entrusted with the care of others, it isnot just. Ignorance, when it is voluntary, is criminal; and he may properlybe charged with evil who refused to learn how he might prevent it.

ÒThere is no part of history so generally useful as that which relatesthe progress of the human mind, the gradual improvement of reason, thesuccessive advances of science, the vicissitudes of learning and ignorance,which are the light and darkness of thinking beings, the extinction andresuscitation of arts, and all the revolutions of the intellectual world. Ifaccounts of battles and invasions are peculiarly the business of princes,the useful or elegant arts are not to be neglected; those who havekingdoms to govern, have understandings to cultivate.

ÒExample is always more efficacious than precept. A soldier is formedin war, and a painter must copy pictures. In this, contemplative life hasthe advantage: great actions are seldom seen, but the labours of art arealways at hand for those who desire to know what art has been able toperform. When the eye or the imagination is struck with any uncommonwork the next transition of an active mind is to the means by which itwas performed. Here begins the true use of such contemplation; weenlarge our comprehension by new ideas, and perhaps recover some artlost to mankind, or learn what is less perfectly known in our owncountry. At least we compare our own with former times, and eitherrejoice at our improvements, or, what is the first motion towards good,discover our defects.Ó

ÒI am willing,Ó said the prince, Òto see all that can deserve mysearch.Ó ÒAnd I,Ó said the princess, Òshall rejoice to learn something ofthe manners of antiquity.Ó

ÒThe most pompous monument of Egyptian greatness, and one of themost bulky works of manual industry,Ó said Imlac, Òare the pyramids;fabricks raised before the time of history, and of which the earliestnarratives afford us only uncertain traditions. Of these the greatest is stillstanding, very little injured by time.Ó

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ÒLet us visit them to morrow,Ó said Nekayah. ÒI have often heard ofthe pyramids, and shall not rest, till I have seen them within and withoutwith my own eyes.Ó

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31. They visit the pyramids.

The resolution being thus taken, they set out the next day. They laidtents upon their camels, being resolved to stay among the pyramids tilltheir curiosity was fully satisfied. They travelled gently, turned aside toevery thing remarkable, stopped from time to time and conversed withthe inhabitants, and observed the various appearances of towns ruinedand inhabited, of wild and cultivated nature.

When they came to the Great Pyramid they were astonished at theextent of the base, and the height of the top. Imlac explained to them theprinciples upon which the pyramidal form was chosen for a fabrickintended to co-extend its duration with that of the world: he showedthat its gradual diminution gave it such stability, as defeated all thecommon attacks of the elements, and could scarcely be overthrown byearthquakes themselves, the least resistible of natural violence. Aconcussion that should shatter the pyramid would threaten thedissolution of the continent.

They measured all its dimensions, and pitched their tents at its foot.Next day they prepared to enter its interiour apartments, and havinghired the common guides climbed up to the first passage, when thefavourite of the princess, looking into the cavity, stepped back andtrembled. ÒPekuah,Ó said the princess, Òof what art thou afraid?Ó ÒOf thenarrow entrance,Ó answered the lady, Òand of the dreadful gloom. I darenot enter a place which must surely be inhabited by unquiet souls. Theoriginal possessors of these dreadful vaults will start up before us, and,perhaps, shut us in for ever.Ó She spoke, and threw her arms round theneck of her mistress.

ÒIf all your fear be of apparitions,Ó said the prince, ÒI will promiseyou safety: there is no danger from the dead; he that is once buried willbe seen no more.Ó

ÒThat the dead are seen no more,Ó said Imlac, ÒI will not undertaketo maintain against the concurrent and unvaried testimony of all ages,and of all nations. There is no people, rude or learned, among whomapparitions of the dead are not related and believed. This opinion,which, perhaps, prevails as far as human nature is diffused, could becomeuniversal only by its truth: those, that never heard of one another, would

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not have agreed in a tale which nothing but experience can makecredible. That it is doubted by single cavillers can very little weaken thegeneral evidence, and some who deny it with their tongues confess it bytheir fears.

ÒYet I do not mean to add new terrours to those which have alreadyseized upon Pekuah. There can be no reason why spectres should hauntthe pyramid more than other places, or why they should have power orwill to hurt innocence and purity. Our entrance is no violation of theirpriviledges; we can take nothing from them, how then can we offendthem?Ó

ÒMy dear Pekuah,Ó said the princess, ÒI will always go before you,and Imlac shall follow you. Remember that you are the companion of theprincess of Abissinia.Ó

ÒIf the princess is pleased that her servant should die,Ó returned thelady, Òlet her command some death less dreadful than enclosure in thishorrid cavern. You know I dare not disobey you: I must go if youcommand me; but, if I once enter, I never shall come back.Ó

The princess saw that her fear was too strong for expostulation orreproof, and embracing her, told her that she should stay in the tent tilltheir return. Pekuah was yet not satisfied, but entreated the princess notto persue so dreadful a purpose, as that of entering the recesses of thepyramid. ÒThough I cannot teach courage,Ó said Nekayah, ÒI must notlearn cowardise; nor leave at last undone what I came hither only to do.Ó

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32. They enter the pyramid

Pekuah descended to the tents and the rest entered the pyramid: theypassed through the galleries, surveyed the vaults of marble, andexamined the chest in which the body of the founder is supposed to havebeen reposited. They then sat down in one of the most spaciouschambers to rest a while before they attempted to return.

ÒWe have now,Ó said Imlac, Ògratified our minds with an exact viewof the greatest work of man, except the wall of China.

ÒOf the wall it is very easy to assign the motives. It secured a wealthyand timorous nation from the incursions of Barbarians, whoseunskilfulness in arts made it easier for them to supply their wants byrapine than by industry, and who from time to time poured in upon thehabitations of peaceful commerce, as vultures descend upon domestickfowl. Their celerity and fierceness made the wall necessary, and theirignorance made it efficacious.

ÒBut for the pyramids no reason has ever been given adequate to thecost and labour of the work. The narrowness of the chambers proves thatit could afford no retreat from enemies, and treasures might have beenreposited at far less expence with equal security. It seems to have beenerected only in compliance with that hunger of imagination which preysincessantly upon life, and must be always appeased by someemployment. Those who have already all that they can enjoy, mustenlarge their desires. He that has built for use, till use is supplied, mustbegin to build for vanity, and extend his plan to the utmost power ofhuman performance, that he may not be soon reduced to form anotherwish.

ÒI consider this mighty structure as a monument of the insufficiencyof human enjoyments. A king, whose power is unlimited, and whosetreasures surmount all real and imaginary wants, is compelled to solace,by the erection of a pyramid, the satiety of dominion and tastelesness ofpleasures, and to amuse the tediousness of declining life, by seeingthousands labouring without end, and one stone, for no purpose, laidupon another. Whoever thou art, that, not content with a moderatecondition, imaginest happiness in royal magnificence, and dreamest that

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command or riches can feed the appetite of novelty with perpetualgratifications, survey the pyramids, and confess thy folly!Ó

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33. The princess meets with an unexpected misfortune

They rose up, and returned through the cavity at which they hadentered, and the princess prepared for her favourite a long narrative ofdark labyrinths, and costly rooms, and of the different impressionswhich the varieties of the way had made upon her. But, when they cameto their train, they found every one silent and dejected: the mendiscovered shame and fear in their countenances, and the women wereweeping in the tents.

What had happened they did not try to conjecture, but immediatelyenquired. ÒYou had scarcely entered into the pyramid,Ó said one of theattendants, Òwhen a troop of Arabs rushed upon us: we were too few toresist them, and too slow to escape. They were about to search the tents,set us on our camels, and drive us along before them, when the approachof some Turkish horsemen put them to flight; but they seized the ladyPekuah with her two maids, and carried them away: the Turks are nowpersuing them by our instigation, but I fear they will not be able toovertake them.Ó The princess was overpowered with surprise and grief.Rasselas, in the first heat of his resentment, ordered his servants tofollow him, and prepared to persue the robbers with his sabre in hishand. ÒSir,Ó said Imlac, Òwhat can you hope from violence or valour? theArabs are mounted on horses trained to battle and retreat; we have onlybeasts of burden. By leaving our present station we may lose theprincess, but cannot hope to regain Pekuah.Ó

In a short time the Turks returned, having not been able to reach theenemy. The princess burst out into new lamentations, and Rasselas couldscarcely forbear to reproach them with cowardice; but Imlac was ofopinion, that the escape of the Arabs was no addition to their misfortune,for, perhaps, they would have killed their captives rather than haveresigned them.

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34. They return to Cairo without Pekuah

There was nothing to be hoped from longer stay. They returned toCairo repenting of their curiosity, censuring the negligence of thegovernment, lamenting their own rashness which had neglected toprocure a guard, imagining many expedients by which the loss of Pekuahmight have been prevented, and resolving to do something for herrecovery, though none could find any thing proper to be done.

Nekayah retired to her chamber, where her women attempted tocomfort her, by telling her that all had their troubles, and that ladyPekuah had enjoyed much happiness in the world for a long time, andmight reasonably expect a change of fortune. They hoped that some goodwould befal her wheresoever she was, and that their mistress would findanother friend who might supply her place.

The princess made them no answer, and they continued the form ofcondolence, not much grieved in their hearts that the favourite was lost.

Next day the prince presented to the Bassa a memorial of the wrongwhich he had suffered, and a petition for redress. The Bassa threatenedto punish the robbers, but did not attempt to catch them, nor, indeed,could any account or description be given by which he might direct thepersuit. It soon appeared that nothing would be done by authority.Governors, being accustomed to hear of more crimes than they canpunish, and more wrongs than they can redress, set themselves at easeby indiscriminate negligence, and presently forget the request when theylose sight of the petitioner. Imlac then endeavoured to gain someintelligence by private agents. He found many who pretended to an exactknowledge of all the haunts of the Arabs, and to regular correspondencewith their chiefs, and who readily undertook the recovery of Pekuah. Ofthese, some were furnished with money for their journey, and came backno more; some were liberally paid for accounts which a few daysdiscovered to be false. But the princess would not suffer any means,however improbable, to be left untried. While she was doing somethingshe kept her hope alive. As one expedient failed, another was suggested;when one messenger returned unsuccessful, another was despatched to adifferent quarter.

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Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been heard;the hopes which they had endeavoured to raise in each other grew morelanguid, and the princess, when she saw nothing more to be tried, sunkdown inconsolable in hopeless dejection. A thousand times shereproached herself with the easy compliance by which she permitted herfavourite to stay behind her. ÒHad not my fondness,Ó said she, Òlessenedmy authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of her terrours. She ought tohave feared me more than spectres. A severe look would haveoverpowered her; a peremptory command would have compelledobedience. Why did foolish indulgence prevail upon me? Why did I notspeak and refuse to hear?Ó

ÒGreat princess,Ó said Imlac, Òdo not reproach yourself for yourvirtue, or consider that as blameable by which evil has accidentally beencaused. Your tenderness for the timidity of Pekuah was generous andkind. When we act according to our duty, we commit the event to him bywhose laws our actions are governed, and who will suffer none to befinally punished for obedience. When, in prospect of some good, whethernatural or moral, we break the rules prescribed us, we withdraw fromthe direction of superiour wisdom, and take all consequences uponourselves. Man cannot so far know the connexion of causes and events,as that he may venture to do wrong in order to do right. When wepersue our end by lawful means, we may always console our miscarriageby the hope of future recompense. When we consult only our own policy,and attempt to find a nearer way to good, by overleaping the settledboundaries of right and wrong, we cannot be happy even by success,because we cannot escape the consciousness of our fault; but, if wemiscarry, the disappointment is irremediably embittered. Howcomfortless is the sorrow of him, who feels at once the pangs of guilt,and the vexation of calamity which guilt has brought upon him?

ÒConsider, princess, what would have been your condition, if thelady Pekuah had entreated to accompany you, and, being compelled tostay in the tents, had been carried away; or how would you have bornthe thought, if you had forced her into the pyramid, and she had diedbefore you in agonies of terrour.Ó

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ÒHad either happened,Ó said Nekayah, ÒI could not have endured lifetill now: I should have been tortured to madness by the remembrance ofsuch cruelty, or must have pined away in abhorrence of myself.

ÒThis at least,Ó said Imlac, Òis the present reward of virtuous conduct,that no unlucky consequence can oblige us to repent it.Ó

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35. The princess languishes for want of Pekuah

Nekayah, being thus reconciled to herself, found that no evil isinsupportable but that which is accompanied with consciousness ofwrong. She was, from that time, delivered from the violence oftempestuous sorrow, and sunk into silent pensiveness and gloomytranquillity. She sat from morning to evening recollecting all that hadbeen done or said by her Pekuah, treasured up with care every trifle onwhich Pekuah had set an accidental value, and which might recal to mindany little incident or careless conversation. The sentiments of her, whomshe now expected to see no more, were treasured in her memory as rulesof life, and she deliberated to no other end than to conjecture on anyoccasion what would have been the opinion and counsel of Pekuah.

The women, by whom she was attended, knew nothing of her realcondition, and therefore she could not talk to them but with caution andreserve. She began to remit her curiosity, having no great care to collectnotions which she had no convenience of uttering. Rasselas endeavouredfirst to comfort and afterwards to divert her; he hired musicians, towhom she seemed to listen, but did not hear them, and procured mastersto instruct her in various arts, whose lectures, when they visited heragain, were again to be repeated. She had lost her taste of pleasure andher ambition of excellence. And her mind, though forced into shortexcursions, always recurred to the image of her friend.

Imlac was every morning earnestly enjoined to renew his enquiries,and was asked every night whether he had yet heard of Pekuah, till notbeing able to return the princess the answer that she desired, he was lessand less willing to come into her presence. She observed hisbackwardness, and commanded him to attend her. ÒYou are not,Ó saidshe, Òto confound impatience with resentment, or to suppose that Icharge you with negligence, because I repine at your unsuccessfulness. Ido not much wonder at your absence; I know that the unhappy are neverpleasing, and that all naturally avoid the contagion of misery. To hearcomplaints is wearisome alike to the wretched and the happy; for whowould cloud by adventitious grief the short gleams of gaiety which lifeallows us? or who, that is struggling under his own evils, will add tothem the miseries of another?

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ÒThe time is at hand, when none shall be disturbed any longer by thesighs of Nekayah: my search after happiness is now at an end. I amresolved to retire from the world with all its flatteries and deceits, andwill hide myself in solitude, without any other care than to compose mythoughts, and regulate my hours by a constant succession of innocentoccupations, till, with a mind purified from all earthly desires, I shallenter into that state, to which all are hastening, and in which I hope againto enjoy the friendship of Pekuah.Ó

ÒDo not entangle your mind,Ó said Imlac, Òby irrevocabledeterminations, nor increase the burthen of life by a voluntaryaccumulation of misery: the weariness of retirement will continue orincrease when the loss of Pekuah is forgotten. That you have beendeprived of one pleasure is no very good reason for rejection of therest.Ó

ÒSince Pekuah was taken from me,Ó said the princess, ÒI have nopleasure to reject or to retain. She that has no one to love or trust haslittle to hope. She wants the radical principle of happiness. We may,perhaps, allow that what satisfaction this world can afford, must arisefrom the conjunction of wealth, knowledge and goodness: wealth isnothing but as it is bestowed, and knowledge nothing but as it iscommunicated: they must therefore be imparted to others, and to whomcould I now delight to impart them? Goodness affords the only comfortwhich can be enjoyed without a partner, and goodness may be practisedin retirement.Ó

ÒHow far solitude may admit goodness, or advance it, I shall not,Óreplied Imlac, Òdispute at present. Remember the confession of the pioushermit. You will wish to return into the world, when the image of yourcompanion has left your thoughts.Ó ÒThat time,Ó said Nekayah, Òwillnever come. The generous frankness, the modest obsequiousness, andthe faithful secrecy of my dear Pekuah, will always be more missed, as Ishall live longer to see vice and folly.Ó

ÒThe state of a mind oppressed with a sudden calamity,Ó said Imlac,Òis like that of the fabulous inhabitants of the new created earth, who,when the first night came upon them, supposed that day never wouldreturn. When the clouds of sorrow gather over us, we see nothingbeyond them, nor can imagine how they will be dispelled: yet a new day

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succeeded to the night, and sorrow is never long without a dawn of ease.But they who restrain themselves from receiving comfort, do as thesavages would have done, had they put out their eyes when it was dark.Our minds, like our bodies, are in continual flux; something is hourlylost, and something acquired. To lose much at once is inconvenient toeither, but while the vital powers remain uninjured, nature will find themeans of reparation. Distance has the same effect on the mind as on theeye, and while we glide along the stream of time, whatever we leavebehind us is always lessening, and that which we approach increasing inmagnitude. Do not suffer life to stagnate; it will grow muddy for want ofmotion: commit yourself again to the current of the world; Pekuah willvanish by degrees; you will meet in your way some other favourite, orlearn to diffuse yourself in general conversation.Ó

ÒAt least,Ó said the prince, Òdo not despair before all remedies havebeen tried: the enquiry after the unfortunate lady is still continued, andshall be carried on with yet greater diligence, on condition that you willpromise to wait a year for the event, without any unalterable resolution.Ó

Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise toher brother, who had been advised by Imlac to require it. Imlac had,indeed, no great hope of regaining Pekuah, but he supposed, that if hecould secure the interval of a year, the princess would be then in nodanger of a cloister.

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36. Pekuah is still remembered. The progress of sorrow

Nekayah, seeing that nothing was omitted for the recovery of herfavourite, and having, by her promise, set her intention of retirement at adistance, began imperceptibly to return to common cares and commonpleasures. She rejoiced without her own consent at the suspension of hersorrows, and sometimes caught herself with indignation in the act ofturning away her mind from the remembrance of her, whom yet sheresolved never to forget.

She then appointed a certain hour of the day for meditation on themerits and fondness of Pekuah, and for some weeks retired constantly atthe time fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen and her countenanceclouded. By degrees she grew less scrupulous, and suffered anyimportant and pressing avocation to delay the tribute of daily tears. Shethen yielded to less occasions; sometimes forgot what she was indeedafraid to remember, and, at last, wholly released herself from the duty ofperiodical affliction.

Her real love of Pekuah was yet not diminished. A thousandoccurrences brought her back to memory, and a thousand wants, whichnothing but the confidence of friendship can supply, made her frequentlyregretted. She, therefore, solicited Imlac never to desist from enquiry,and to leave no art of intelligence untried, that, at least, she might havethe comfort of knowing that she did not suffer by negligence orsluggishness. ÒYet what,Ó said she, Òis to be expected from our persuit ofhappiness, when we find the state of life to be such, that happiness itselfis the cause of misery? Why should we endeavour to attain that, of whichthe possession cannot be secured? I shall henceforward fear to yield myheart to excellence, however bright, or to fondness, however tender, lestI should lose again what I have lost in Pekuah.Ó

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37. The Princess hears news of Pekuah

In seven months, one of the messengers, who had been sent awayupon the day when the promise was drawn from the princess, returned,after many unsuccessful rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with anaccount that Pekuah was in the hands of an Arab chief, who possessed acastle or fortress on the extremity of Egypt. The Arab, whose revenuewas plunder, was willing to restore her, with her two attendants, fortwo hundred ounces of gold.

The price was no subject of debate. The princess was in extasies whenshe heard that her favourite was alive, and might so cheaply beransomed. She could not think of delaying for a moment PekuahÕshappiness or her own, but entreated her brother to send back themessenger with the sum required. Imlac, being consulted, was not veryconfident of the veracity of the relator, and was still more doubtful ofthe ArabÕs faith, who might, if he were too liberally trusted, detain atonce the money and the captives. He thought it dangerous to putthemselves in the power of the Arab, by going into his district, and couldnot expect that the Rover would so much expose himself as to come intothe lower country, where he might be seized by the forces of the Bassa.It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust. But Imlac, after somedeliberation, directed the messenger to propose that Pekuah should beconducted by ten horsemen to the monastery of St. Anthony, which issituated in the deserts of Upper-Egypt, where she should be met by thesame number, and her ransome should be paid.

That no time might be lost, as they expected that the proposal wouldnot be refused, they immediately began their journey to the monastery;and, when they arrived, Imlac went forward with the former messengerto the ArabÕs fortress. Rasselas was desirous to go with them, but neitherhis sister nor Imlac would consent. The Arab, according to the custom ofhis nation, observed the laws of hospitality with great exactness to thosewho put themselves into his power, and, in a few days, brought Pekuahwith her maids, by easy journeys, to their place appointed, wherereceiving the stipulated price, he restored her with great respect toliberty and her friends, and undertook to conduct them back towardsCairo beyond all danger of robbery or violence.

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The princess and her favourite embraced each other with transporttoo violent to be expressed, and went out together to pour the tears oftenderness in secret, and exchange professions of kindness and gratitude.After a few hours they returned into the refectory of the convent, where,in the presence of the prior and his brethren, the prince required ofPekuah the history of her adventures.

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38. The adventures of the lady Pekuah

ÒAt what time, and in what manner, I was forced away,Ó saidPekuah, Òyour servants have told you. The suddenness of the eventstruck me with surprise, and I was at first rather stupified than agitatedwith any passion of either fear or sorrow. My confusion was encreasedby the speed and tumult of our flight while we were followed by theTurks, who, as it seemed, soon despaired to overtake us, or were afraidof those whom they made a shew of menacing.

ÒWhen the Arabs saw themselves out of danger they slackened theircourse, and, as I was less harassed by external violence, I began to feelmore uneasiness in my mind. After some time we stopped near a springshaded with trees in a pleasant meadow, where we were set upon theground, and offered such refreshments as our masters were partaking. Iwas suffered to sit with my maids apart from the rest, and noneattempted to comfort or insult us. Here I first began to feel the fullweight of my misery. The girls sat weeping in silence, and from time totime looked on me for succour. I knew not to what condition we weredoomed, nor could conjecture where would be the place of our captivity,or whence to draw any hope of deliverance. I was in the hands ofrobbers and savages, and had no reason to suppose that their pity wasmore than their justice, or that they would forbear the gratification ofany ardour of desire, or caprice of cruelty. I, however, kissed my maids,and endeavoured to pacify them by remarking, that we were yet treatedwith decency, and that, since we were now carried beyond persuit, therewas no danger of violence to our lives.

ÒWhen we were to be set again on horseback, my maids clung roundme, and refused to be parted, but I commanded them not to irritatethose who had us in their power. We travelled the remaining part of theday through an unfrequented and pathless country, and came bymoonlight to the side of a hill, where the rest of the troop was stationed.Their tents were pitched, and their fires kindled, and our chief waswelcomed as a man much beloved by his dependants.

ÒWe were received into a large tent, where we found women whohad attended their husbands in the expedition. They set before us thesupper which they had provided, and I eat it rather to encourage my

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maids than to comply with any appetite of my own. When the meat wastaken away they spread the carpets for repose. I was weary, and hopedto find in sleep that remission of distress which nature seldom denies.Ordering myself therefore to be undrest, I observed that the womenlooked very earnestly upon me, not expecting, I suppose, to see me sosubmissively attended. When my upper vest was taken off, they wereapparently struck with the splendour of my cloaths, and one of themtimorously laid her hand upon the embroidery. She then went out, and,in a short time, came back with another woman, who seemed to be ofhigher rank, and greater authority. She did, at her entrance, the usual actof 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.

ÒIn the morning, as I was sitting on the grass, the chief of the troopcame towards me. I rose up to receive him, and he bowed with greatrespect. ÔIllustrious lady,Õ said he, Ômy fortune is better than I hadpresumed to hope; I am told by my women, that I have a princess in mycamp.Õ ÔSir,Õ answered I, Ôyour women have deceived themselves andyou; I am not a princess, but an unhappy stranger who intended soon tohave left this country, in which I am now to be imprisoned for ever.ÕÔWhoever, or whencesoever, you are,Õ returned the Arab, Ôyour dress,and that of your servants, Ôshow your rank to be high, and your wealthto be great. Why should you, who can so easily procure your ransome,think yourself in danger of perpetual captivity? The purpose of myincursions is to encrease my riches, or more properly to gather tribute.The sons of Ishmael are the natural and hereditary lords of this part ofthe continent, which is usurped by late invaders, and low-born tyrants,from whom we are compelled to take by the sword what is denied tojustice. The violence of war admits no distinction; the lance that is liftedat guilt and power will sometimes fall on innocence and gentleness.Õ

ÒÔHow little,Õ said I, Ôdid I expect that yesterday it should have fallenupon me.Õ

ÒÔMisfortunes,ÕÓ answered the Arab, Ôshould always be expected. Ifthe eye of hostility could learn reverence or pity, excellence like yourshad been exempt from injury. But the angels of affliction spread theirtoils alike for the virtuous and the wicked, for the mighty and the mean.Do not be disconsolate; I am not one of the lawless and cruel rovers of

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the desart; I know the rules of civil life: I will fix your ransome, give apassport to your messenger, and perform my stipulation with nicepunctuality.Õ

ÒYou will easily believe that I was pleased with his courtesy; andfinding that his predominant passion was desire of money, I began nowto think my danger less, for I knew that no sum would be thought toogreat for the release of Pekuah. I told him that he should have no reasonto charge me with ingratitude, if I was used with kindness, and that anyransome, which could be expected for a maid of common rank, would bepaid, but that he must not persist to rate me as a princess. He said, hewould consider what he should demand, and then, smiling, bowed andretired.

ÒSoon after the women came about me, each contending to be moreofficious than the other, and my maids themselves were served withreverence. We travelled onward by short journeys. On the fourth day thechief told me, that my ransome must be two hundred ounces of gold,which I not only promised him, but told him, that I would add fiftymore, if I and my maids were honourably treated.

ÒI never knew the power of gold before. From that time I was theleader of the troop. The march of every day was longer or shorter as Icommanded, and the tents were pitched where I chose to rest. We nowhad camels and other conveniencies for travel, my own women werealways at my side, and I amused myself with observing the manners ofthe vagrant nations, and with viewing remains of ancient edifices withwhich these deserted countries appear to have been, in some distant age,lavishly embellished.

ÒThe chief of the band was a man far from illiterate: he was able totravel by the stars or the compass, and had marked in his erratickexpeditions such places as are most worthy the notice of a passenger. Heobserved to me, that buildings are always best preserved in places littlefrequented, and difficult of access: for, when once a country declinesfrom its primitive splendour, the more inhabitants are left, the quickerruin will be made. Walls supply stones more easily than quarries, andpalaces and temples will be demolished to make stables of granate, andcottages of porphyry.

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39. The adventures of Pekuah continued

ÒWe wandered about in this manner for some weeks, whether, as ourchief pretended, for my gratification, or, as I rather suspected, for someconvenience of his own. I endeavoured to appear contented wheresullenness and resentment would have been of no use, and thatendeavour conduced much to the calmness of my mind; but my heartwas always with Nekayah, and the troubles of the night muchoverbalanced the amusements of the day. My women, who threw alltheir cares upon their mistress, set their minds at ease from the timewhen they saw me treated with respect, and gave themselves up to theincidental alleviations of our fatigue without solicitude or sorrow. I waspleased with their pleasure, and animated with their confidence. Mycondition had lost much of its terrour, since I found that the Arab rangedthe country merely to get riches. Avarice is an uniform and tractable vice:other intellectual distempers are different in different constitutions ofmind; that which sooths the pride of one will offend the pride ofanother; but to the favour of the covetous there is a ready way, bringmoney and nothing is denied.

ÒAt last we came to the dwelling of our chief, a strong and spacioushouse built with stone in an island of the Nile, which lies, as I was told,under the tropick. ÔLady,Õ said the Arab, Ôyou shall rest after yourjourney a few weeks in this place, where you are to consider yourself assovereign. My occupation is war: I have therefore chosen this obscureresidence, from which I can issue unexpected, and to which I can retireunpursued. You may now repose in security: here are few pleasures, buthere is no danger.Õ He then led me into the inner apartments, and seatingme on the richest couch, bowed to the ground. His women, whoconsidered me as a rival, looked on me with malignity; but being sooninformed that I was a great lady detained only for my ransome, theybegan to vie with each other in obsequiousness and reverence.

ÒBeing again comforted with new assurances of speedy liberty, I wasfor some days diverted from impatience by the novelty of the place. Theturrets overlooked the country to a great distance, and afforded a viewof many windings of the stream. In the day I wandered from one placeto another as the course of the sun varied the splendour of the prospect,

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and saw many things which I had never seen before. The crocodiles andriver-horses are common in this unpeopled region, and I often lookedupon them with terrour, though I knew that they could not hurt me. Forsome time I expected to see mermaids and tritons, which, as Imlac hastold me, the European travellers have stationed in the Nile, but no suchbeings ever appeared, and the Arab, when I enquired after them,laughed at my credulity.

ÒAt night the Arab always attended me to a tower set apart forcelestial observations, where he endeavoured to teach me the names andcourses of the stars. I had no great inclination to this study, but anappearance of attention was necessary to please my instructor, whovalued himself for his skill, and, in a little while, I found someemployment requisite to beguile the tediousness of time, which was to bepassed always amidst the same objects. I was weary of looking in themorning on things from which I had turned away weary in the evening: Itherefore was at last willing to observe the stars rather than do nothing,but could not always compose my thoughts, and was very often thinkingon Nekayah when others imagined me contemplating the sky. Soon afterthe Arab went upon another expedition, and then my only pleasure wasto talk with my maids about the accident by which we were carriedaway, and the happiness that we should all enjoy at the end of ourcaptivity.Ó

ÒThere were women in your ArabÕs fortress,Ó said the princess, Òwhydid you not make them your companions, enjoy their conversation, andpartake their diversions? In a place where they found business oramusement, why should you alone sit corroded with idle melancholy? orwhy should not you bear for a few months that condition to which theywere condemned for life?Ó

ÒThe diversions of the women,Ó answered Pekuah, Òwere onlychildish play, by which the mind accustomed to stronger operationscould not be kept busy. I could do all which they delighted in doing bypowers merely sensitive, while my intellectual faculties were flown toCairo. They ran from room to room as a bird hops from wire to wire inhis cage. They danced for the sake of motion, as lambs frisk in ameadow. One sometimes pretended to be hurt that the rest might bealarmed, or hid herself that another might seek her. Part of their time

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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 thesky.

ÒTheir business was only needlework, in which I and my maidssometimes helped them; but you know that the mind will easily stragglefrom the fingers, nor will you suspect that captivity and absence fromNekayah could receive solace from silken flowers.

ÒNor was much satisfaction to be hoped from their conversation: forof what could they be expected to talk? They had seen nothing; for theyhad lived from early youth in that narrow spot: of what they had notseen they could have no knowledge, for they could not read. They hadno ideas but of the few things that were within their view, and hadhardly names for any thing but their cloaths and their food. As I bore asuperiour character, I was often called to terminate their quarrels, whichI decided as equitably as I could. If it could have amused me to hear thecomplaints of each against the rest, I might have been often detained bylong stories, but the motives of their animosity were so small that I couldnot listen without intercepting the tale.Ó

ÒHow,Ó said Rasselas, Òcan the Arab, whom you represented as aman of more than common accomplishments, take any pleasure in hisseraglio, when it is filled only with women like these. Are theyexquisitely beautiful?Ó

ÒThey do not,Ó said Pekuah, Òwant that unaffecting and ignoblebeauty which may subsist without spriteliness or sublimity, withoutenergy of thought or dignity of virtue. But to a man like the Arab suchbeauty was only a flower casually plucked and carelessly thrown away.Whatever pleasures he might find among them, they were not those offriendship or society. When they were playing about him he looked onthem with inattentive superiority: when they vied for his regard hesometimes turned away disgusted. As they had no knowledge, their talkcould take nothing from the tediousness of life: as they had no choice,their fondness, or appearance of fondness, excited in him neither pridenor gratitude; he was not exalted in his own esteem by the smiles of awoman who saw no other man, nor was much obliged by that regard, ofwhich he could never know the sincerity, and which he might oftenperceive to be exerted not so much to delight him as to pain a rival. That

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which he gave, and they received, as love, was only a carelessdistribution of superfluous time, such love as man can bestow upon thatwhich he despises, such as has neither hope nor fear, neither joy norsorrow.

ÒYou have reason, lady, to think yourself happy,Ó said Imlac, Òthatyou have been thus easily dismissed. How could a mind, hungry forknowledge, be willing, in an intellectual famine, to lose such a banquet asPekuahÕs conversation?Ó

ÒI am inclined to believe,Ó answered Pekuah, Òthat he was for sometime in suspense; notwithstanding his promise, whenever I proposed todispatch a messenger to Cairo, he found some excuse for delay. While Iwas detained in his house he made many incursions into theneighbouring countries, and, perhaps, he would have refused todischarge me, had his plunder been equal to his wishes. He returnedalways courteous, related his adventures, delighted to hear myobservations, and endeavoured to advance my acquaintance with thestars. When I importuned him to send away my letters, he soothed mewith professions of honour and sincerity; and, when I could be no longerdecently denied, put his troop again in motion, and left me to govern inhis absence. I was much afflicted by this studied procrastination, and wassometimes afraid that I should be forgotten; that you would leave Cairo,and I must end my days in an island of the Nile.

ÒI grew at last hopeless and dejected, and cared so little to entertainhim, that he for a while more frequently talked with my maids. That heshould fall in love with them, or with me, might have been equally fatal,and I was not much pleased with the growing friendship. My anxietywas not long; for, as I recovered some degree of chearfulness, hereturned to me, and I could not forbear to despise my former uneasiness.

ÒHe still delayed to send for my ransome, and would, perhaps, neverhave determined, had not your agent found his way to him. The gold,which he would not fetch, he could not reject when it was offered. Hehastened to prepare for our journey hither, like a man delivered from thepain of an intestine conflict. I took leave of my companions in the house,who dismissed me with cold indifference.Ó

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Nekayah, having heard her favouriteÕs relation, rose and embracedher, and Rasselas gave her an hundred ounces of gold, which shepresented to the Arab for the fifty that were promised.

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40. The history of a man of learning

They returned to Cairo, and were so well pleased at findingthemselves together, that none of them went much abroad. The princebegan to love learning, and one day declared to Imlac, that he intendedto devote himself to science, and pass the rest of his days in literarysolitude.

ÒBefore you make your final choice,Ó answered Imlac, Òyou ought toexamine its hazards, and converse with some of those who are grownold in the company of themselves. I have just left the observatory of oneof the most learned astronomers in the world, who has spent forty yearsin unwearied attention to the motions and appearances of the celestialbodies, and has drawn out his soul in endless calculations. He admits afew friends once a month to hear his deductions and enjoy hisdiscoveries. I was introduced as a man of knowledge worthy of hisnotice. Men of various ideas and fluent conversation are commonlywelcome to those whose thoughts have been long fixed upon a singlepoint, and who find the images of other things stealing away. I delightedhim with my remarks, he smiled at the narrative of my travels, and wasglad to forget the constellations, and descend for a moment into thelower world.

ÒOn the next day of vacation I renewed my visit, and was sofortunate as to please him again. He relaxed from that time the severityof his rule, and permitted me to enter at my own choice. I found himalways busy, and always glad to be relieved. As each knew much whichthe other was desirous of learning, we exchanged our notions with greatdelight. I perceived that I had every day more of his confidence, andalways found new cause of admiration in the profundity of his mind. Hiscomprehension is vast, his memory capacious and retentive, his discourseis methodical, and his expression clear.

ÒHis integrity and benevolence are equal to his learning. His deepestresearches and most favourite studies are willingly interrupted for anyopportunity of doing good by his counsel or his riches. To his closestretreat at his most busy moments, all are admitted that want hisassistance: ÔFor though I exclude idleness and pleasure I will never,Õ says

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he, Ôbar my doors against charity. To man is permitted the contemplationof the skies, but the practice of virtue is commanded.ÕÓ

ÒSurely,Ó said the princess, Òthis man is happy.ÓÒI visited him,Ó said Imlac, Òwith more and more frequency and was

every time more enamoured of his conversation: he was sublime withouthaughtiness, courteous without formality, and communicative withoutostentation. I was at first, great princess, of your opinion, thought himthe happiest of mankind, and often congratulated him on the blessingthat he enjoyed. He seemed to hear nothing with indifference but thepraises of his condition, to which he always returned a general answer,and diverted the conversation to some other topick.

ÒAmidst this willingness to be pleased, and labour to please, I hadquickly reason to imagine that some painful sentiment pressed upon hismind. He often looked up earnestly towards the sun, and let his voicefall in the midst of his discourse. He would sometimes, when we werealone, gaze upon me in silence with the air of a man who longed to speakwhat he was yet resolved to suppress. He would often send for me withvehement injunctions of haste, though, when I came to him, he hadnothing extraordinary to say. And sometimes, when I was leaving him,would call me back, pause a few moments and then dismiss me.

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41. The astronomer discovers the cause of his uneasiness

ÒAt last the time came when the secret burst his reserve. We weresitting together last night in the turret of his house, watching theemersion of a satellite of Jupiter. A sudden tempest clouded the sky, anddisappointed our observation. We sat a while silent in the dark, and thenhe addressed himself to me in these words: ÔImlac, I have longconsidered thy friendship as the greatest blessing of my life. Integritywithout knowledge is weak and useless, and knowledge withoutintegrity is dangerous and dreadful. I have found in thee all the qualitiesrequisite for trust, benevolence, experience, and fortitude. I have longdischarged an office which I must soon quit at the call of nature, andshall rejoice in the hour of imbecility and pain to devolve it upon thee.Õ

ÒI thought myself honoured by this testimony, and protested thatwhatever could conduce to his happiness would add likewise to mine.Ó

ÒÔHear, Imlac, what thou wilt not without difficulty credit. I havepossessed for five years the regulation of weather, and the distributionof the seasons: the sun has listened to my dictates, and passed fromtropick to tropick by my direction; the clouds, at my call, have pouredtheir waters, and the Nile has overflowed at my command; I haverestrained the rage of the dog-star, and mitigated the fervours of thecrab. The winds alone, of all the elemental powers, have hitherto refusedmy authority, and multitudes have perished by equinoctial tempestswhich I found myself unable to prohibit or restrain. I have administeredthis great office with exact justice, and made to the different nations ofthe earth an impartial dividend of rain and sunshine. What must havebeen the misery of half the globe, if I had limited the clouds to particularregions, or confined the sun to either side of the equator?ÕÓ

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42. The opinion of the astronomer is explained and justified

ÒI suppose he discovered in me, through the obscurity of the room,some tokens of amazement and doubt, for, after a short pause, heproceeded thus:

ÒÔNot to be easily credited will neither surprise nor offend me; for Iam, probably, the first of human beings to whom this trust has beenimparted. Nor do I know whether to deem this distinction as reward orpunishment; since I have possessed it I have been far less happy thanbefore, and nothing but the consciousness of good intention could haveenabled me to support the weariness of unremitted vigilance.Õ

ÒÔHow long, Sir,Õ said I, Ôhas this great office been in your hands?ÒÔAbout ten years ago,Õ said he, Ômy 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. Thiscontemplation fastened on my mind, and I sat days and nights inimaginary dominion, pouring upon this country and that the showers offertility, and seconding every fall of rain with a due proportion ofsunshine. I had yet only the will to do good, and did not imagine that Ishould ever have the power.

ÒÔOne day as I was looking on the fields withering with heat, I felt inmy mind a sudden wish that I could send rain on the southernmountains, and raise the Nile to an inundation. In the hurry of myimagination I commanded rain to fall, and, by comparing the time of mycommand, with that of the inundation, I found that the clouds hadlistened to my lips.Õ

ÒÔMight not some other cause,Õ said I, Ôproduce this concurrence? theNile does not always rise on the same day.Õ

ÒÔDo not believe,Õ said he with impatience, Ôthat such objections couldescape me: I reasoned long against my own conviction, and labouredagainst truth with the utmost obstinacy. I sometimes suspected myself ofmadness, and should not have dared to impart this secret but to a manlike you, capable of distinguishing the wonderful from the impossible,and the incredible from the false.Õ

ÒÔWhy, Sir,Õ said I, Ôdo you call that incredible, which you know, orthink you know, to be true?Õ

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ÒÔBecause,Õ said he, ÔI cannot prove it by any external evidence; and Iknow too well the laws of demonstration to think that my convictionought to influence another, who cannot, like me, be conscious of its force.I, therefore, shall not attempt to gain credit by disputation. It is sufficientthat I feel this power, that I have long possessed, and every day exertedit. But the life of man is short, the infirmities of age increase upon me,and the time will soon come when the regulator of the year must minglewith the dust. The care of appointing a successor has long disturbed me;the night and the day have been spent in comparisons of all thecharacters which have come to my knowledge, and I have yet foundnone so worthy as thyself.ÕÓ

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43. The astronomer leaves Imlac his directions

ÒÔHear therefore, what I shall impart, with attention, such as thewelfare of a world requires. If the task of a king be considered asdifficult, who has the care only of a few millions, to whom he cannot domuch good or harm, what must be the anxiety of him, on whom dependthe action of the elements, and the great gifts of light and heat!ÑHearme therefore with attention.

ÒÔI have diligently considered the position of the earth and sun, andformed innumerable schemes in which I changed their situation. I havesometimes turned aside the axis of the earth, and sometimes varied theecliptick of the sun: but I have found it impossible to make a dispositionby which the world may be advantaged; what one region gains, anotherloses by any imaginable alteration, even without considering the distantparts of the solar system with which we are unacquainted. Do not,therefore, in thy administration of the year, indulge thy pride byinnovation; do not please thyself with thinking that thou canst makethyself renowned to all future ages, by disordering the seasons. Thememory of mischief is no desirable fame. Much less will it become thee tolet kindness or interest prevail. Never rob other countries of rain to pourit on thine own. For us the Nile is sufficient.Õ

ÒI promised that when I possessed the power, I would use it withinflexible integrity, and he dismissed me, pressing my hand. ÔMy heart,Õsaid he, Ôwill be now at rest, and my benevolence will no more destroymy quiet: I have found a man of wisdom and virtue, to whom I canchearfully bequeath the inheritance of the sun.ÕÓ

The prince heard this narration with very serious regard, but theprincess smiled, and Pekuah convulsed herself with laughter. ÒLadies,Ósaid Imlac, Òto mock the heaviest of human afflictions is neithercharitable nor wise. Few can attain this manÕs knowledge, and fewpractise his virtues; but all may suffer his calamity. Of the uncertainties ofour present state, the most dreadful and alarming is the uncertaincontinuance of reason.Ó

The princess was recollected, and the favourite was abashed.Rasselas, more deeply affected, enquired of Imlac, whether he thoughtsuch maladies of the mind frequent, and how they were contracted.

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44. The dangerous prevalence of imagination

ÒDisorders of intellect,Ó answered Imlac, Òhappen much more oftenthan superficial observers will easily believe. Perhaps, if we speak withrigorous exactness, no human mind is in its right state. There is no manwhose imagination does not sometimes predominate over his reason,who can regulate his attention wholly by his will, and whose ideas willcome and go at his command. No man will be found in whose mind airynotions do not sometimes tyrannise, and force him to hope or fearbeyond the limits of sober probability. All power of fancy over reason isa degree of insanity; but while this power is such as we can controll andrepress, it is not visible to others, nor considered as any depravation ofthe mental faculties: it is not pronounced madness but when it comesungovernable, and apparently influences speech or action.

ÒTo indulge the power of fiction, and send imagination out upon thewing, is often the sport of those who delight too much in silentspeculation. When we are alone we are not always busy; the labour ofexcogitation is too violent to last long; the ardour of enquiry willsometimes give way to idleness or satiety. He who has nothing externalthat can divert him, must find pleasure in his own thoughts, and mustconceive himself what he is not; for who is pleased with what he is? Hethen expatiates in boundless futurity, and culls from all imaginableconditions that which for the present moment he should most desire,amuses his desires with impossible enjoyments, and confers upon hispride unattainable dominion. The mind dances from scene to scene,unites all pleasures in all combinations, and riots in delights which natureand fortune, with all their bounty, cannot bestow.

ÒIn time some particular train of ideas fixes the attention, all otherintellectual gratifications are rejected, the mind, in weariness or leisure,recurs constantly to the favourite conception, and feasts on the lusciousfalsehood whenever she is offended with the bitterness of truth. Bydegrees the reign of fancy is confirmed; she grows first imperious, and intime despotick. Then fictions begin to operate as realities, false opinionsfasten upon the mind, and life passes in dreams of rapture or of anguish.

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ÒThis, Sir, is one of the dangers of solitude, which the hermit hasconfessed not always to promote goodness, and the astronomerÕs miseryhas proved to be not always propitious to wisdom.Ó

ÒI will no more,Ó said the favourite, Òimagine myself the queen ofAbissinia. I have often spent the hours, which the princess gave to myown disposal, in adjusting ceremonies and regulating the court; I haverepressed the pride of the powerful, and granted the petitions of thepoor; I have built new palaces in more happy situations, planted grovesupon the tops of mountains, and have exulted in the beneficence ofroyalty, till, when the princess entered, I had almost forgotten to bowdown before her.Ó

ÒAnd I,Ó said the princess, Òwill not allow myself any more to playthe shepherdess in my waking dreams. I have often soothed my thoughtswith the quiet and innocence of pastoral employments, till I have in mychamber heard the winds whistle, and the sheep bleat; sometimes freedthe lamb entangled in the thicket, and sometimes with my crookencountered the wolf. I have a dress like that of the village maids, whichI put on to help my imagination, and a pipe on which I play softly, andsuppose myself followed by my flocks.Ó

ÒI will confess,Ó said the prince, Òan indulgence of fantastick delightmore dangerous than yours. I have frequently endeavoured to image thepossibility of a perfect government, by which all wrong should berestrained, all vice reformed, and all the subjects preserved in tranquilityand innocence. This thought produced innumerable schemes ofreformation, and dictated many useful regulations and salutary edicts.This has been the sport and sometimes the labour of my solitude; and Istart, when I think with how little anguish I once supposed the death ofmy father and my brothers.Ó

ÒSuch,Ó says Imlac, Òare the effects of visionary schemes: when wefirst form them we know them to be absurd, but familiarise them bydegrees, and in time lose sight of their folly.Ó

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45. They discourse with an old man

The evening was now far past, and they rose to return home. As theywalked along the bank of the Nile, delighted with the beams of the moonquivering on the water, they saw at a small distance an old man, whomthe prince had often heard in the assembly of the sages. ÒYonder,Ó saidhe, Òis one whose years have calmed his passions, but not clouded hisreason: let us close the disquisitions of the night, by enquiring what arehis sentiments of his own state, that we may know whether youth aloneis to struggle with vexation, and whether any better hope remains for thelatter part of life.Ó Here the sage approached and saluted them. Theyinvited him to join their walk, and prattled a while as acquaintance thathad unexpectedly met one another. The old man was chearful andtalkative, and the way seemed short in his company. He was pleased tofind himself not disregarded, accompanied them to their house, and, atthe princeÕs request, entered with them. They placed him in the seat ofhonour, and set wine and conserves before him. ÒSir,Ó said the princess,Òan evening walk must give to a man of learning, like you, pleasureswhich ignorance and youth can hardly conceive. You know the qualitiesand the causes of all that you behold, the laws by which the river flows,the periods in which the planets perform their revolutions. Every thingmust supply you with contemplation, and renew the consciousness ofyour own dignity.Ó

ÒLady,Ó answered he, Òlet the gay and the vigorous expect pleasurein their excursions, it is enough that age can obtain ease. To me the worldhas lost its novelty: I look round, and see what I remember to have seenin happier days. I rest against a tree, and consider, that in the same shadeI once disputed upon the annual overflow of the Nile with a friend whois now silent in the grave. I cast my eyes upwards, fix them on thechanging moon, and think with pain on the vicissitudes of life. I haveceased to take much delight in physical truth; for what have I to do withthose things which I am soon to leave?Ó

ÒYou may at least recreate yourself,Ó said Imlac, Òwith therecollection of an honourable and useful life, and enjoy the praise whichall agree to give you.Ó

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ÒPraise,Ó said the sage, with a sigh, Òis to an old man an emptysound. I have neither mother to be delighted with the reputation of herson, nor wife to partake the honours of her husband. I have outlived myfriends and my rivals. Nothing is now of much importance; for I cannotextend my interest beyond myself. Youth is delighted with applause,because it is considered as the earnest of some future good, and becausethe prospect of life is far extended: but to me, who am now declining todecrepitude, there is little to be feared from the malevolence of men, andyet less to be hoped from their affection or esteem. Something they mayyet take away, but they can give me nothing. Riches would now beuseless, and high employment would be pain. My retrospect of life recallsto my view many opportunities of good neglected, much timesquandered upon trifles, and more lost in idleness and vacancy. I leavemany great designs unattempted, and many great attempts unfinished.My mind is burthened with no heavy crime, and therefore I composemyself to tranquility; endeavour to abstract my thoughts from hopes andcares, which, though reason knows them to be vain, still try to keep theirold possession of the heart; expect, with serene humility, that hour whichnature cannot long delay; and hope to possess in a better state thathappiness which here I could not find, and that virtue which here I havenot attained.Ó

He rose and went away, leaving his audience not much elated withthe hope of long life. The prince consoled himself with remarking, that itwas not reasonable to be disappointed by this account; for age had neverbeen considered as the season of felicity, and, if it was possible to beeasy in decline and weakness, it was likely that the days of vigour andalacrity might be happy: that the moon of life might be bright, if theevening could be calm.

The princess suspected that age was querulous and malignant, anddelighted to repress the expectations of those who had newly enteredthe world. She had seen the possessors of estates look with envy on theirheirs, and known many who enjoy pleasure no longer than they canconfine it to themselves.

Pekuah conjectured, that the man was older than he appeared, andwas willing to impute his complaints to delirious dejection; or elsesupposed that he had been unfortunate, and was therefore discontented:

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ÒFor nothing,Ó said she, Òis more common than to call our own condition,the condition of life.Ó

Imlac, who had no desire to see them depressed, smiled at thecomforts which they could so readily procure to themselves, andremembered, that at the same age, he was equally confident ofunmingled prosperity, and equally fertile of consolatory expedients. Heforbore to force upon them unwelcome knowledge, which time itselfwould too soon impress. The princess and her lady retired; the madnessof the astronomer hung upon their minds, and they desired Imlac toenter upon his office, and delay next morning the rising of the sun.

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46. The princess and Pekuah visit the astronomer

The princess and Pekuah having talked in private of ImlacÕsastronomer, thought his character at once so amiable and so strange, thatthey could not be satisfied without a nearer knowledge, and Imlac wasrequested to find the means of bringing them together. This wassomewhat difficult; the philosopher had never received any visits fromwomen, though he lived in a city that had in it many Europeans whofollowed the manners of their own countries, and many from other partsof the world that lived there with European liberty. The ladies wouldnot be refused, and several schemes were proposed for theaccomplishment of their design. It was proposed to introduce them asstrangers in distress, to whom the sage was always accessible; but, aftersome deliberation, it appeared, that by this artifice, no acquaintancecould be formed, for their conversation would be short, and they couldnot decently importune him often. ÒThis,Ó said Rasselas, Òis true; but Ihave yet a stronger objection against the misrepresentation of your state.I have always considered it as treason against the great republick ofhuman nature, to make any manÕs virtues the means of deceiving him,whether on great or little occasions. All imposture weakens confidenceand chills benevolence. When the sage finds that you are not what youseemed, he will feel the resentment natural to a man who, conscious ofgreat abilities, discovers that he has been tricked by understandingsmeaner than his own, and, perhaps, the distrust, which he can neverafterwards wholly lay aside, may stop the voice of counsel, and close thehand of charity; and where will you find the power of restoring hisbenefactions to mankind, or his peace to himself?Ó

To this no reply was attempted, and Imlac began to hope that theircuriosity would subside; but, next day, Pekuah told him, she had nowfound an honest pretence for a visit to the astronomer, for she wouldsolicite permission to continue under him the studies in which she hadbeen initiated by the Arab, and the princess might go with her either as afellow-student, or because a woman could not decently come alone. ÒIam afraid,Ó said Imlac, Òthat he will be soon weary of your company:men advanced far in knowledge do not love to repeat the elements oftheir art, and I am not certain that even of the elements, as he will

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deliver them connected with inferences, and mingled with reflections,you are a very capable auditress.Ó ÒThat,Ó said Pekuah, Òmust be mycare: I ask of you only to take me thither. My knowledge is, perhaps,more than you imagine it, and by concurring always with his opinions Ishall make him think it greater than it is.Ó

The astronomer, in pursuance of this resolution, was told, that aforeign lady, travelling in search of knowledge, had heard of hisreputation, and was desirous to become his scholar. The uncommonnessof the proposal raised at once his surprize and curiosity, and when, aftera short deliberation, he consented to admit her, he could not staywithout impatience till the next day.

The ladies dressed themselves magnificently, and were attended byImlac to the astronomer, who was pleased to see himself approachedwith respect by persons of so splendid an appearance. In the exchange ofthe first civilities he was timorous and bashful; but when the talk becameregular, he recollected his powers, and justified the character which Imlachad given. Enquiring of Pekuah what could have turned her inclinationtowards astronomy, he received from her a history of her adventure atthe pyramid, and of the time passed in the ArabÕs island. She told hertale with ease and elegance, and her conversation took possession of hisheart. The discourse was then turned to astronomy: Pekuah displayedwhat she knew: he looked upon her as a prodigy of genius, and intreatedher not to desist from a study which she had so happily begun.

They came again and again, and were every time more welcome thanbefore. The sage endeavoured to amuse them, that they might prolongtheir visits, for he found his thoughts grow brighter in their company;the clouds of solicitude vanished by degrees, as he forced himself toentertain them, and he grieved when he was left at their departure to hisold employment of regulating the seasons.

The princess and her favourite had now watched his lips for severalmonths, and could not catch a single word from which they could judgewhether he continued, or not, in the opinion of his preternaturalcommission. They often contrived to bring him to an open declaration,but he easily eluded all their attacks, and on which side soever theypressed him escaped from them to some other topick.

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As their familiarity increased they invited him often to the house ofImlac, where they distinguished him by extraordinary respect. He begangradually to delight in sublunary pleasures. He came early and departedlate; laboured to recommend himself by assiduity and compliance;excited their curiosity after new arts, that they might still want hisassistance; and when they made any excursion of pleasure or enquiry,entreated to attend them.

By long experience of his integrity and wisdom, the prince and hissister were convinced that he might be trusted without danger; and lesthe should draw any false hopes from the civilities which he received,discovered to him their condition with the motives of their journey, andrequired his opinion on the choice of life.

ÒOf the various conditions which the world spreads before you,which you shall prefer,Ó said the sage, ÒI am not able to instruct you. Ican only tell that I have chosen wrong. I have passed my time in studywithout experience; in the attainment of sciences which can, for the mostpart, be but remotely useful to mankind. I have purchased knowledge atthe expence of all the common comforts of life: I have missed theendearing elegance of female friendship, and the happy commerce ofdomestick tenderness. If I have obtained any prerogatives above otherstudents, they have been accompanied with fear, disquiet, andscrupulosity; but even of these prerogatives, whatever they were, I have,since my thoughts have been diversified by more intercourse with theworld, begun to question the reality. When I have been for a few dayslost in pleasing dissipation, I am always tempted to think that myenquiries have ended in errour, and that I have suffered much, andsuffered it in vain.Ó

Imlac was delighted to find that the sageÕs understanding wasbreaking through its mists, and resolved to detain him from the planetstill he should forget his task of ruling them, and reason should recoverits original influence.

From this time the astronomer was received into familiar friendship,and partook of all their projects and pleasures: his respect kept himattentive, and the activity of Rasselas did not leave much timeunengaged. Something was always to be done; the day was spent in

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making observations which furnished talk for the evening, and theevening was closed with a scheme for the morrow.

The sage confessed to Imlac, that since he had mingled in the gaytumults of life, and divided his hours by a succession of amusements, hefound the conviction of his authority over the skies fade gradually fromhis mind, and began to trust less to an opinion which he never couldprove to others, and which he now found subject to variation fromcauses in which reason had no part. ÒIf I am accidentally left alone for afew hours,Ó said he, Òmy inveterate persuasion rushes upon my soul, andmy thoughts are chained down by some irresistible violence, but they aresoon disentangled by the princeÕs conversation, and instantaneouslyreleased at the entrance of Pekuah. I am like a man habitually afraid ofspectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and wonders at the dread whichharrassed him in the dark, yet, if his lamp be extinguished, feels againthe terrours which he knows that when it is light he shall feel no more.But I am sometimes afraid lest I indulge my quiet by criminal negligence,and voluntarily forget the great charge with which I am intrusted. If Ifavour myself in a known errour, or am determined by my own ease in adoubtful question of this importance, how dreadful is my crime!Ó

ÒNo disease of the imagination,Ó answered Imlac, Òis so difficult ofcure, as that which is complicated with the dread of guilt: fancy andconscience then act interchangeably upon us, and so often shift theirplaces, that the illusions of one are not distinguished from the dictates ofthe other. If fancy presents images not moral or religious, the minddrives them away when they give it pain, but when melancholick notionstake the form of duty, they lay hold on the faculties without opposition,because we are afraid to exclude or banish them. For this reason thesuperstitious are often melancholy, and the melancholy almost alwayssuperstitious.

ÒBut do not let the suggestions of timidity overpower your betterreason: the danger of neglect can be but as the probability of theobligation, which when you consider it with freedom, you find verylittle, and that little growing every day less. Open your heart to theinfluence of the light which, from time to time, breaks in upon you: whenscruples importune you, which you in your lucid moments know to bevain do not stand to parley but fly to business or to Pekuah, and keep

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this thought always prevalent, that you are only one atom of the mass ofhumanity, and have neither such virtue nor vice, as that you should besingled out for supernatural favours or afflictions.Ó

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47. The prince enters and brings a new topick

ÒAll this,Ó said the astronomer, ÒI have often thought, but my reasonhas been so long subjugated by an uncontrolable and overwhelming idea,that it durst not confide in its own decisions. I now see how fatally Ibetrayed my quiet, by suffering chimeras to prey upon me in secret; butmelancholy shrinks from communication, and I never found a manbefore, to whom I could impart my troubles, though I had been certain ofrelief. I rejoice to find my own sentiments confirmed by yours, who arenot easily deceived, and can have no motive or purpose to deceive. Ihope that time and variety will dissipate the gloom that has so longsurrounded me, and the latter part of my days will be spent in peace.Ó

ÒYour learning and virtue,Ó said Imlac, Òmay justly give you hopes.ÓRasselas then entered with the princess and Pekuah, and enquired

whether they had contrived any new diversion for the next day. ÒSuch,Ósaid Nekayah, Òis the state of life, that none are happy but by theanticipation of change: the change itself is nothing; when we have madeit, the next wish is to change again. The world is not yet exhausted; letme see something to morrow which I never saw before.Ó

ÒVariety,Ó said Rasselas, Òis so necessary to content, that even thehappy valley disgusted me by the recurrence of its luxuries; yet I couldnot forbear to reproach myself with impatience, when I saw the monks ofSt. Anthony support without complaint, a life, not of uniform delight, butuniform hardship.Ó

ÒThose men,Ó answered Imlac, Òare less wretched in their silentconvent than the Abissinian princes in their prison of pleasure. Whateveris done by the monks is incited by an adequate and reasonable motive.Their labour supplies them with necessaries; it therefore cannot beomitted, and is certainly rewarded. Their devotion prepares them foranother state, and reminds them of its approach, while it fits them for it.Their time is regularly distributed; one duty succeeds another, so thatthey are not left open to the distraction of unguided choice, nor lost inthe shades of listless inactivity. There is a certain task to be performed atan appropriated hour; and their toils are cheerful, because they considerthem as acts of piety, by which they are always advancing towardsendless felicity.Ó

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ÒDo you think,Ó said Nekayah, Òthat the monastick rule is a moreholy and less imperfect state than any other? May not he equally hope forfuture happiness who converses openly with mankind, who succours thedistressed by his charity, instructs the ignorant by his learning, andcontributes by his industry to the general system of life; even though heshould omit some of the mortifications which are practised in the cloister,and allow himself such harmless delights as his condition may placewithin his reach?Ó

ÒThis,Ó said Imlac, Òis a question which has long divided the wise,and perplexed the good. I am afraid to decide on either part. He thatlives well in the world is better than he that lives well in a monastery.But, perhaps, every one is not able to stem the temptations of publicklife; and, if he cannot conquer, he may properly retreat. Some have littlepower to do good, and have likewise little strength to resist evil. Manyweary of their conflicts with adversity, and are willing to eject thosepassions which have long busied them in vain. And many are dismissedby age and diseases from the more laborious duties of society. Inmonasteries the weak and timorous may be happily sheltered, the wearymay repose, and the penitent may meditate. Those retreats of prayer andcontemplation have something so congenial to the mind of man that,perhaps, there is scarcely one that does not purpose to close his life inpious abstraction with a few associates serious as himself.Ó

ÒSuch,Ó said Pekuah, Òhas often been my wish, and I have heard theprincess declare, that she should not willingly die in a croud.Ó

ÒThe liberty of using harmless pleasures,Ó proceeded Imlac, Òwill notbe disputed; but it is still to be examined what pleasures are harmless.The evil of any pleasure that Nekayah can image is not in the act itself,but in its consequences. Pleasure, in itself harmless, may becomemischievous, by endearing to us a state which we know to be transientand probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts from that, of which everyhour brings us nearer to the beginning, and of which no length of timewill bring us to the end. Mortification is not virtuous in itself, nor hasany other use, but that it disengages us from the allurements of sense. Inthe state of future perfection, to which we all aspire, there will bepleasure without danger, and security without restraint.Ó

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The princess was silent, and Rasselas, turning to the astronomer,asked him, whether he could not delay her retreat, by shewing hersomething which she had not seen before.

ÒYour curiosity,Ó said the sage, Òhas been so general, and yourpursuit of knowledge so vigorous, that novelties are not now very easilyto be found: but what you can no longer procure from the living may begiven by the dead. Among the wonders of this country are thecatacombs, or the ancient repositories, in which the bodies of the earliestgenerations were lodged, and where, by the virtue of the gums whichembalmed them, they yet remain without corruption.Ó

ÒI know not,Ó said Rasselas, Òwhat pleasure the sight of thecatacombs can afford; but, since nothing else is offered, I am resolved toview them, and shall place this with many other things which I havedone, because I would do something.Ó

They hired a guard of horsemen, and the next day visited thecatacombs. When they were about to descend into the sepulchral caves,ÒPekuah,Ó said the princess, Òwe are now again invading the habitationsof the dead; I know that you will stay behind; let me find you safe whenI return.Ó ÒNo, I will not be left,Ó answered Pekuah; ÒI will go downbetween you and the prince.Ó

They then all descended, and roved with wonder through thelabyrinth of subterraneous passages, where the bodies were laid in rowson either side.

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48. Imlac discourses on the nature of the soul

ÒWhat reason,Ó said the prince, Òcan be given, why the Egyptiansshould thus expensively preserve those carcasses which some nationsconsume with fire, others lay to mingle with the earth, and all agree toremove from their sight, as soon as decent rites can be performed?Ó

ÒThe original of ancient customs,Ó said Imlac, Òis commonlyunknown; for the practice often continues when the cause has ceased;and concerning superstitious ceremonies it is vain to conjecture; for whatreason did not dictate reason cannot explain. I have long believed thatthe practice of embalming arose only from tenderness to the remains ofrelations or friends, and to this opinion I am more inclined, because itseems impossible that this care should have been general: had all thedead been embalmed, their repositories must in time have been morespacious than the dwellings of the living. I suppose only the rich orhonourable were secured from corruption, and the rest left to the courseof nature.

ÒBut it is commonly supposed that the Egyptians believed the soul tolive as long as the body continued undissolved and therefore tried thismethod of eluding death.Ó

ÒCould the wise Egyptians,Ó said Nekayah, Òthink so grossly of thesoul? If the soul could once survive its separation, what could itafterwards receive or suffer from the body?Ó

ÒThe Egyptians would doubtless think erroneously,Ó said theastronomer, Òin the darkness of heathenism, and the first dawn ofphilosophy. The nature of the soul is still disputed amidst all ouropportunities of clearer knowledge: some yet say that it may be material,who, nevertheless, believe it to be immortal.Ó

ÒSome,Ó answered Imlac, Òhave indeed said that the soul is material,but I can scarcely believe that any man has thought it, who knew how tothink; for all the conclusions of reason enforce the immateriality of mind,and all the notices of sense and investigations of science concur to provethe unconsciousness of matter.

ÒIt was never supposed that cogitation is inherent in matter, or thatevery particle is a thinking being. Yet, if any part of matter be devoid ofthought, what part can we suppose to think? Matter can differ from

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matter only in form, density, bulk, motion, and direction of motion: towhich of these, however varied or combined, can consciousness beannexed? 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 materialexistence, all equally alien from the nature of cogitation. If matter be oncewithout thought, it can only be made to think by some new modification,but all the modifications which it can admit are equally unconnected withcogitative powers.Ó

ÒBut the materialists,Ó said the astronomer, Òurge that matter mayhave qualities with which we are unacquainted.Ó

ÒHe who will determine,Ó returned Imlac, Òagainst that which heknows, because there may be something which he knows not; he that canset hypothetical possibility against acknowledged certainty, is not to beadmitted among reasonable beings. All that we know of matter is, thatmatter is inert, senseless and lifeless; and if this conviction cannot beopposed but by referring us to something that we know not, we have allthe evidence that human intellect can admit. If that which is known maybe over-ruled by that which is unknown, no being, not omniscient, canarrive at certainty.Ó

ÒYet let us not,Ó said the astronomer, Òtoo arrogantly limit theCreatorÕs power.Ó

ÒIt is no limitation of omnipotence,Ó replied the poet, Òto suppose thatone thing is not consistent with another, that the same proposition cannotbe 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 ofcogitation.Ó

ÒI know not,Ó said Nekayah, Òany great use of this question. Doesthat immateriality, which, in my opinion, you have sufficiently proved,necessarily include eternal duration?

ÒOf immateriality,Ó said Imlac, Òour ideas are negative, and thereforeobscure. Immateriality seems to imply a natural power of perpetualduration as a consequence of exemption from all causes of decay:whatever perishes, is destroyed by the solution of its contexture, andseparation of its parts; nor can we conceive how that which has no parts,and therefore admits no solution, can be naturally corrupted orimpaired.Ó

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ÒI know not,Ó said Rasselas, Òhow to conceive any thing withoutextension: what is extended must have parts, and you allow, thatwhatever has parts may be destroyed.Ó

ÒConsider your own conceptions,Ó replied Imlac, Òand the difficultywill be less. You will find substance without extension. An ideal form isno less real than material bulk: yet an ideal form has no extension. It isno less certain, when you think on a pyramid, that your mind possessesthe idea of a pyramid, than that the pyramid itself is standing. Whatspace does the idea of a pyramid occupy more than the idea of a grain ofcorn? or how can either idea suffer laceration? As is the effect such is thecause; as thought is, such is the power that thinks; a power impassive andindiscerptible.Ó

ÒBut the Being,Ó said Nekayah, Òwhom I fear to name, the Beingwhich made the soul, can destroy it.Ó

ÒHe, surely, can destroy it,Ó answered Imlac, Òsince, howeverunperishable, it receives from a superiour nature its power of duration.That it will not perish by any inherent cause of decay, or principle ofcorruption, may be shown by philosophy; but philosophy can tell nomore. That it will not be annihilated by him that made it, we musthumbly learn from higher authority.Ó

The whole assembly stood a while silent and collected. ÒLet usreturn,Ó said Rasselas, Òfrom this scene of mortality. How gloomy wouldbe these mansions of the dead to him who did not know that he shallnever die; that what now acts shall continue its agency, and what nowthinks shall think on for ever. Those that lie here stretched before us, thewise and the powerful of antient times, warn us to remember theshortness of our present state; they were, perhaps, snatched away whilethey were busy, like us, in the choice of life.Ó

ÒTo me,Ó said the princess, Òthe choice of life is become lessimportant; I hope hereafter to think only on the choice of eternity.Ó

They then hastened out of the caverns, and, under the protection oftheir guard, returned to Cairo.

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49. The conclusion, in which nothing is concluded

It was now the time of the inundation of the Nile: a few days aftertheir visit to the catacombs, the river began to rise.

They were confined to their house. The whole region being underwater gave them no invitation to any excursions, and, being wellsupplied with materials for talk, they diverted themselves withcomparisons of the different forms of life which they had observed, andwith various schemes of happiness which each of them had formed.

Pekuah was never so much charmed with any place as the convent ofSt. Anthony, where the Arab restored her to the princess, and wishedonly to fill it with pious maidens, and to be made prioress of the order:she was weary of expectation and disgust, and would gladly be fixed insome unvariable state.

The princess thought, that of all sublunary things, knowledge was thebest: She desired first to learn all sciences, and then purposed to found acollege of learned women, in which she would preside, that, byconversing with the old, and educating the young, she might divide hertime between the acquisition and communication of wisdom, and raise upfor the next age models of prudence, and patterns of piety.

The prince desired a little kingdom, in which he might administerjustice in his own person, and see all the parts of government with hisown eyes; but he could never fix the limits of his dominion, and wasalways adding to the number of his subjects.

Imlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along thestream of life without directing their course to any particular port.

Of these wishes that they had formed they well knew that none couldbe obtained. They deliberated a while what was to be done, andresolved, when the inundation should cease, to return to Abissinia.

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