. " Rasselas, having for some time fixed his eyes upon the goats that were browsing among the rocks, began to compare their condition with his own." RASSELAS. BY SAMUEL JOHNSON, L.L.D PHILADELPHIA: WILLIS P. HAZARD, 190 CHESTNUT STREET-. 1856. - RASSELAS. CHAP. I. Description of a Palace in a Valley. YE who listen with credulity to the whispers of fancy, and pursue with eagerness the phantoms of hope ; who expect that age will perform the promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will be supplied by the mor- row ; attend to the nistory of Rasselas prince of Abissinia. Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty emperor, in - whose dominions the father of waters begins his course ; whose bounty pours down the streams of plenty, and scatters over the world the harvests of Egypt. According to the custom which has descended from age to age among the monarchs of the torrid zone, Rasselas was confined in a private palace, with the other sons and daugh- ters of Abissinian royalty, till the order of succession should call him to the throne. The place, which the wisdom or policy of antiquity had destined for the residence of the Abissinian princes, was a spacious valley in the kingdom of Amhara, surrounded on every side by mountains, of which the summits overhang the middle part. The only passage by which it could be enter- ed was a cavern that passed under a rock, of which it had long been disputed whether it was the work of nature or of human industry. The outlet of the cavern was concealed by a thick wood, and the mouth which opened into the valley was closed with gates of iron, forged by the artificers of an- cient days, so massy, that no man, without the help of en- gines, could open or shut them. 4 RASSELAS. From the mountains on every side rivulets descended, tha filled all the valley with verdure and fertility, and formed a lake in the middle, inhabited by fish of every species, and frequented by every fowl whom nature has taught to dip the wing in water. This lake discharged its superfluities by a stream, which entered a dark cleft of the mountain on the northern side, and fell with dreadful noise from precipice to precipice, till it was heard no more. The sides of the mountains were covered with trees, the banks of the brooks were diversified with flowers ; every j blast shook spices from \he rocks, and every month dropped fruits upon the ground. All animals that bite the grass, or browse the shrubs, whether wild or tame, wandered in this extensive circuit, secured from beasts of prey by the moun- tains which confined them. On one part were flocks and herds feeding in the pastures, on another all the beasts of chase frisking in the lawns : the sprightly kid was bounding en the rocks, the subtle monkey frolicking in the trees, and the solemn elephant reposing in the shade. All the diversi- ties of the world were brought together. The blessings of Mature were collected, and its evils extracted and excluded. The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants with the necessaries of life ; and all delights and superfluities were added at the annual visit which the emperor paid his chil- dren, when the iron gate was opened to the sound of music ; and during eight days, every one that resided in the valley was required to propose whatever might contribute to make seclusion pleasant, to fill up the vacancies of attention, and lessen the tediousness of time. Every desire was immedi- ately granted. All the artificers of pleasure were called to gladden the festivity , the musicians exerted the power of harmony, and the dancers showed their activity before the princes, in hopes that they should pass their lives in blissful captivity, to which those only were admitted whose perform- ance was thought able to add novelty to luxury. Such was the appearance of security and delight which this retirement afforded, that they to whom it was new always desired that it might be perpetual ; and as those on whom the iron gate had once closed were never suffered to return, the effect of longer experience could not be known. Thus every year produced new scenes of delight, and new competitors for im- prisonment. The palace stood on an eminence, raised about thirty paces above the surface of the lake. It was divided into many squares, or courts, built with greater or less magnifi- RASSELAS. 5 cence, according to the rank of those for whom they wert designed. The roofs were turned into arches of massj stdne, joined by a cement that grew harder by time ; and th building stood trom century to century, deriding the solstitial rains and equinoctial hurricanes, without need of reparation. This house, which was so large as to be fully known tc none but some ancient officers, who successively inherited the secrets of the place, was built as if Suspicion herself had dictated the plan. To every room there was an open and secret passage ; every square had a communication with the rest, either from the upper stories by private galleries, or by subterraneous passages from the lower apartments. Many of the columns had unsuspected cavities, in which a long race of mpnarchs had reposited their treasures. They then clos ed up the opening with marble, which was never to be re- moved but in the utmost exigencies of the kingdom ; and re corded their accumulations in a book, which was itself con ceaieid in a tower, not entered-feut by the emperor attendet by the prince who stood next in succession. CHAP. II. The Discontent ofRasselas in the Happy Valley. HERE the sons and daughters of Abissinia lived only ta mow the soft vicissitudes of pleasure and repose, attended by all that were skilful to delight, and gratified with what- ever the senses can enjoy. They wandered in gardens ol 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 ol nothing but the miseries of public life, and described all beyond the mountains as regions of calamity, where discord was always raging, arid where man preyed upon man. To heighten their opinion of their own felicity, they were daily entertained with songs, the subject of which was the happy valley. Their appetites were excited by frequent enumera- tions of different enjoyments, and revelry and merriment were the business of every hour, from the dawn of the morning to the close of the evening. These methods were generally successful : few of the princes had ever wished to enlarge their bounds, but pass- * ed their lives in full conviction that they had all within their reach that art or nature could bestow, and pitied those whom nature had excluded from this seat of tranquillity, as the sport of chance and the slaves of misery. RASSELAS. Thus they rose m the morning and lay down at night, pleased with each other and with themselves, all but Ras- selas, who, in the twenty-sixth year of his age, began to withdraw himself from the pastimes and assemblies, and to delight in solitary walks and silent meditation. He often sal before tables covered with luxury, and forgot to taste the dainties that were placed before him : he rose abruptly in the midst of the song, and hastily retired beyond the sound of music. His attendants observed the change, and endeavored to renew his love of pleasure : he neglected their officiousness, repulsed their invitations, and spent day after day on the banks of rivulets sheltered with trees, where he sometimes listened to the birds in the branches, some- times observed the fish playing in the stream, and anon cast his eyes upon the pastures and mountains filled with ani- mals, of which some were biting the herbage, and some sleeping among the bushes. This singularity of his humor made him much observed. One of the sages, in whose con- versation he had formerly delighted, followed him secretly, in hope of discovering the cause of his disquiet. Rasselas, who knew not that any one was near hinij having for some time fixed his eyes upon the goats that were browsing among the rocks, began to compare their condition with his own. " What," said he, " makes the difference between man *- ~ and all the rest of the animal creation ? Every beast that strays beside me has the same corporal necessities with my- self: he is hungry, and- crops the grass ; he is thirsty, and drinks the stream ; his thirst and hunger are appeased ; he is satisfied, and sleeps ; he rises again and is hungry ; he is again fed, and is at rest. I am hungry and thirsty, like him, but when thirst and hunger cease, I am not at rest ; I am, hke him, pained with want, but am not, like him, satisfied with fulness. The intermediate hours are tedious and gloomy : I long again to be hungry, that I may again quick- en the attention. The birds peck the berries of the corn, and fly away to the groves, where they sit in seeming happiness on the branches, and waste their lives in tuning one unvaried series of sounds. I likewise can call the lutanist and the singer ; but the sounds that pleased me yesterday weary me to-day, and will grow yet more wearisome to-morrow. I can discover in me no power of perception which is not glutted with its proper pleasure, yet I do not feel myself delighted. Man sureiy has some latent sense, for which this place af- fords no gratification ; or he has some desires distinct from sense, which must be satisfied before he can be happy." RASSELAS. 7 After this he lifted up his head, and seeing the moon ris- ing, walked towards the palace. As he passed through the fields, and saw the animals around him, " Ye," said he, "are happy, and need not envy me, that walk thus among you, burdened with myself; nor do I, ye gentle beings, envy your felicity ; for it is not the felicity of man. I have many dis- ^ tresses from which ye are free ; I fear pain when I do not feel it ; I sometimes shrink at evils recollected, and some- times start at evils anticipated : surely the equity of Provi- dence has balanced peculiar sufferings with peculiar enjoy- ments." With observations like these the prince amused himself as he returned, uttering them with a plaintivfc voice, yet with a look that discovered him to feel some complacence in his own perspicacitv, and to receive some solace of the miseries of life, from consciousness of the delicacy with which he felt, and the eloquence with which he bewailed them. He min- gled cheerfully in the diversions of the evening, and all re- joiced to find that his heart was lightened. CHAP. III. The IVants of him that wants nothing. ON" the next day, his old instructor, imagining that he had now made himself acquainted with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing it by counsel, and officiously sought an op- portunity of conference, which the prince, having long con- sidered him as one whose intellects were exhausted, was not very willing to afford. " Why," said he, " does this man intrude upon me ? shall I never be suffered to forget these lectures, which pleased only while they were new, and to become new again, must be forgotten ?" He then walked in- to the wood, and composed himself to his usual meditations ; when, before his thoughts had taken any settled form, he ^ perceived his pursuer at his side, and was at first prompted Dy his impatience to go hastily away ; but being unwilling to offend a man whom he had once reverenced, and still loved,* he invited him to sit down with him on the bank. The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change which had been lately observed in the prince, and to inquire why he so often retired from the pleasures of the palace, to loneliness and silence. "I fly from pleasure," said the prince, " because pleasure has ceased to please; I am lonely because I am miserable, and am unwilling to cloud with my presence the hapoiness of others." " You, sir," said the 8 RASSELAS, sage, " are the first who has complained of misery in the happy valley. I hope to convince you that your complaints have no real cause. You are here in full possession of all the emperor of Abissmia can bestow ; here is neither labor to be endured nor danger to be dreaded, yet here is all that labor or danger can procure or purchase. Look round and tell me which of your wants is without supply : if you want nothing, how are you unhappy ?" " That I want nothing," said the prince, " or that I know **- not what I want, is the cause of my complaint : if I had any known want, I should have a certain wish ; that wish would excite endeavor, and I should not then repine to see the sun move so slowly to^irds the western mountains, or to lament when the day breaks, and sleep will no longer hide me from myself. When I see the kids and the lambs chasing one \another, I fancy that I should be happy if I had something to pursue. But, possessing all that I can want, I find one day and one hour exactly like another, except that the latter is still more tedious than the former! Let your experience in- form me how the day may now seem as short as in my child- hood, while nature was yet fresh, and every moment showed me what 1 never had observed before. T have already en- jjfc^Joyed too much : give me something to desire." The old man was surprised at this new species of affliction, and knew not what to reply, yet was unwilling to be silent. " Sir," said he, " if you had seen the miseries of the world you would know how to value your present state." "Now," said the prince, " you have given me something to desire : I shall Hong to see the miseries of ihe world, since the sight of then: is necessary to happiness." CHAP. IV. The Prince continues to grieve and muse. AT this time the sound of music proclaimed the hour ot repast, and the conversation was concluded. The old man went away sufficiently discontented to find that his reason- ings had produced the only conclusion which they were in- tended to prevent. But in the decline of life, shame and grief are of short duration : whether it be that we bear easi- ly what we have borne long ; or that, finding ourselves in age less regarded, we less regard others; or that we look wit' slight regard upon afflictions, to which we know that the ** of death is about to put an end. RASSELAS. 9 The prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could not speedily quiet his emotions. He had been before terrified at the length of life which nature promised him, be- cause he considered that in a long time much must be en- dured : he now rejoiced in his youth, because in many 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 was fired with the desire of doing something, though he knew not yet, with distinct- ness, either end or means. He was now no longer gloomy and unsocial ; but, considering himself as master of a secret stock of happiness, which he^could only enjoy by concealing it, he affected to be busy in all the schemes of diversion, and endeavored to make others pleased with the state of which he himself was weary. But pleasures can never be so mul tiplied or continued as not to leave much of life unemployed ; there were many hours, both of the night and day, which he could spend without suspicion in solitary thought. The load of life was much lightened; he went eagerly into the assem- blies, because he supposed the frequency of his presence ne- cessary to the success of his purposes ; he retired gladly to privacy, because he had now a subject of thought. His .- chief amusement was to picture to himself that world whicli he had never seen, to place himself in various conditions, to be entangled in imaginary difficulties, and to be engaged in wild adventures ; but his benevolence always terminated his projects in the relief of distress, the detection of fraud, the defeat of oppression, and the diffusion of happiness. Thus passed twenty months of the life of Rasselas. He busied himself so intensely in visionary bustle that he forgot his real solitude ; and, amidst hourly preparations for the va- rious incidents of human affairs, neglected to consider by what means he should mingle with mankind. One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself an orphan virgin robbed of her little portion by a treacherous lover, and crying after him for restitution. So strongly was the image impressed upon his mind, that he started up in the maid's defence, and ran forward to seize the plunderer with all the eagerness of real pursuit. Fear naturally quickens the flight of guilt. Rasselas could not catcti the fugitive with his utmost efforts : but, resolving to weary by perseve- rance him whom he could not surpass in speed, he pressed on till the foot of the mountain stopped his course. Here he recollected himself, and smiled at his own useless impetuosity. Then raising his eyes to the mountain, " This," 10 RASSELAS. said he, " is the fatal obstacle that hinders at once the en- joyment of pleasure and the exercise of virtue. How long is it that my hopes and wishes have flown beyond this boundary of my life, which yet I never have attempted to surmount !" Struck with this reflection, he sat down to muse, and remem bered, that since he first resolved to escape from his con- finement, the sun had passed twice over him in his annual course. He now felt a degree >f regret with which he had never been before acquainted He considered how much might have been done in the tirr which had passed, and left nothing real behind it. He compared twenty months with the life of man. " In life," said he ' is not to be counted the ignorance of infancy or imbecility of age. We are long be- fore we are able to think, and we soon cease from the power of acting. The true period of human existence may be rea- sonably estimated at forty years, of which I have mused away the four-and-twentieth part. What I have lost w*.s certain, for I have certainly possessed it; but of twenty months to come who can assure me ?" The consciousness of his folly pierced him deeply, and he was long before he could be reconciled to himself. " The rest of my time," said he, "h?s beer lost by the crime or folly of my ancestors, and the absurd institutions of my coun- try ; I remember it with disgust, yet without remorse ; but the months that have passed since new light darted into my soul, since I formed a scheme of reasonable felicity, have been squandered by my own fault. 1 have lost that which can never be restored ; I have seen the sun rise and set for twenty months, an idle gazer on the light of heaven : in this time the birds have left the nest of their mother, and com- mitted themselves to the woods and to the skies ; the kid has forsaken the teat, and learned by degrees to climb the rocks in quest of independent sustenance. I only have made no ad- vances, but am still helpless and ignorant. The moon, by more than twenty changes, admonished me of the flux of life ; the stream that rolled before my feet upbraided my in- activity. I sat feasting on intellectual luxury, regardless alike of the examples of the earth and the instructions of the pla.nets. Twenty months are passed, who shall restore vhem ?" These sorrowful meditations fastened upon his mind : he ^.passed four months in resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves, and was awakened to more vigorous exertion, by hearing a maid who had broken a porcelain cup, remark, that vhat cannot be repaired is not to be regretted. V RASSELAS. 11 This was obvious ; and Rasselas reproached himself that he had not discovered it ; having not known, or not considered, how many useful hints are obtained by chance, and how often the mind, hurried by her own ardor to distant views, neglects the truths that lie opened before her. He, for a few hours, regreUed his regret, and from that time bent his whole mind upon the means of escaping from the valley of happiness. CHAP. V. The Prince meditates his Escape. HE now found that it would be very difficult to effect that which it was very easy to suppose effected. When he looked round about him, he saw himself confined by the bars of na- ture, which had never yet been broken, and by the gate, through which none that had once passed it were ever ahle to return. He was now impatient as an eagle in a grate." He passed week after week in clambering the mountains Jto see if there was any aperture which the bushes might conceal, but found all the summits inaccessible by their prominence. The irjoft-gate he despaired to open ; for it was not only se- cured with all the power of art, but was always watched by successive sentinels, and was by its position exposed to the perpetual observation of all the inhabitants. He then examined the cavern through which the waters of the lake were discharged ; and, looking down at a time when the sun shone strongly upon its mouth, he discovered it to be full of broken rocks, which, though they permitted the stream to flow through many narrow passages, would stop any body of solid bulk. He returned discouraged and dejected; but,i having now known the blessing of hope, resolved never tcl despair. ^ In these fruitless researches he spent tenjojonths. The * time, however, passed cheerfully away ; in the morning he rose with new hope, in the evening applauded his own dili- gence, and in the night slept sound after his fatigue.*. He met a thousand amusements, which beguiled his labor and diver- sified his thoughts. He discerned the various instincts of ani- mals, and properties of plants, and found the place replete with wonders, of which he proposed to solace himself with the contemplation, if he should never be able to accomplish his flight , rejoicing that his endeavors, though yet unsuccessful, had supplied him with a source of inexhaustible inquiry. But his original curiosity was not yet abated ; he resolved 12 RASSELAS. to obtain some knowledge of the ways of men. His wish still continued, but his hope grew less. He ceased to survey any longer the walls of his prison, and spared to search by ner toils for interstices which he knew could not be found, yet de* termined to keep his design always in view, and lay hold of any expedient time should offer. CHAP. VI. A Dissertation on the Art of Flying, AMONG the artists that had been allured into the happy valley, to labor for the accommodation and pleasure of its in- habitants, was a man eminent for his knowledge of the me- chanic powers, who had contrived many engines both o .* use and recreation. By a wheel which the stream turned, he forced the water into a tower, whence it was distributed to all the apartments of the palace. He erected a pavilion in thai garden, around which he kept the air always cool by artificial* showers. One of the groves, appropriated to the ladies, was ventilated by fans, to which the rivulets that ran through it gave a constant motion; and instruments of soft music were played at proper distances, of which some played by the im- pulse of the wind, and some by the power of the stream. This artist was sometimes visited by Rasselas, who was pleased with every kind of knowledge, imagining that the time would come'when all his acquisitions should be of use to him in the open world. He came one day to amuse him- self in his usual manner, and found the master busy in build- ing a sailing chariot : he saw that the design was practicable upon a tevel surface, and with expressions of great esteem solicited its completion. The workman was pleased to find himself so much regarded by the prince, and resolved to gain yet higher honors. " Sir," said he, " you have seen but a small part of what the mechanic science can perform. I have been long of opinion, that instead of the tardy conveyance of ships and chariots, man might use the swifter migration of wings; that the fields of air are open to knowledge, and tha* only ignorance and idleness need crawl upon the ground." This hint rekindled the prince's desire of passing the moun- tains. Having seen what the mechanist had already perform- ed, he was willing to fancy that he could do more ; yet resolv- ed to inquire farther before he suffered hope to afflict him by disappointment. " I am afraid," said he to the artist, " that your imagination prevails over your skill, and thar you now RASSELAS. 13 tell me rather what you wish than what you know. Every animal has his element assigned him ; the birds have the air, and man and beast the earth." " So," replied the mechanist " fishes have the water, in which yet beasts can swim by na- ture, and man by art. He that can swim needs not despair to fly : to swim is to fly in a grosser fluid, and to fly is to swim in a subtler. We are only to proportion our power of resistance to the different density of matter through which we are to pass. You will be necessarily upborne by the air, if you can renew any impulse upon it faster than the air can re- cede from the pressure." " But the exercise of swimming," said the prince, " is very laborious ; the strongest limbs are soon wearied : I am afraid the act of flying will be yet more violent ; and wings will be of no great use, unless we can fly further than we can swim." " The labor of rising from the ground," said the artist, " will be great, as we see it in the heavier domestic fowls ; but, as we mount higher, the earth's attraction, and the body's gra- I vity, will be gradually diminished, till we shall arrive at a re- I gion where the man shall float in the air without any tenden- " \ 3V to fall ; no care will then be necessary but to move forward, which the gentlest impulse will effect. You, sir, whose curi osity is so extensive, will easily conceive with what pleasure a philosopher, furnished with wings, and hovering in the sky, would see the earth, and all its inhabitants, rolling beneath him, and presenting to him successively, by its diurnal mo- tion, all the countries within the same parallel. How must it amuse the pendent spectator to see the moving scene of land and ocean, cities and deserts ! to survey with equal se- curity the marts of trade, and the fields of battle ; mountains infested by barbarians, and fruitful regions gladdened by plenty and lulled by peace ! How easily shall we then trace the Nile through all his passages, pass over to distant regions, and examine the state of nature from one extremity of the earth to the other." " All this," said the prince, " is much to be desired, but I am afraid that no man will be able to breathe in these regions of speculation and tranquillity. I have been told that respi- ration is difficult upon lofty mountains ; yet from these preci- pices, though so high as to produce great tenuity of air, it is very easy to fall ; therefore I suspect, that from any height, where life can be supported, there may be danger of too quick descent." " Nothing," replied the artist, " will ever be attempted, if /. ill possible objections must be first overcome. If you will 14 RASSELAS. favor my project, I will try the first flight at my own hazard. I have considered the structure of all volant animals, and find the folding continuity of the bats' wings most easily accom- modated to the human form. Upon this model I shall begin my task to-morrow ; and, in a year, expect to tower into the air beyond the malice and pursuit of man. But I will work only on this condition, that the art shall not be divulged, and that you shall not require me to make wings for any out our- selves." " Why," said Rasselas, " should you envy others so great an advantage ? All skill ought to be exerted for universal good ; every man has owed much to others, and ought to re- pay the kindness that he has received." " If men were all virtuous," returned the artist, " I should with great alacrity teach them to fly. But what would be the security of the good if the bad could at pleasure invade them/ from the sky ? Against an army sailing through the clouds J neither walls, mountains, nor seas, could affora security. A I flight of northern savages might hover in the wind, and light with irresistible violence upon the capital of a fruitful region. Even this valley, the retreat of princes, the abode of happi- ness, might be violated by the sudden descent of some of the naked nations that swarm on the coast of the southern sea !" The prince promised secrecy, and waited for the perfor- mance, not wholly hopeless of success. He visited the work from time to time, observed its progress, and remarked many ingenious contrivances to facilitate motion, and unite levity with strength. The artist was every day more certain that he should leave vultures and eagles behind him, and the con- tagion of his confidence seized upon the prince. In a year the wings were finished ; and, on a morning appointed, the maker appeared furnished for flight on a little promontory : he wav- ed his pinions a while to gather air, then leaped from his stand, and in an instant dropped into the lake. His wings, which were of no use in the air, sustained him in the water ; and the prince drew him to land half dead with terror and vex- ation. CHAP. VII. The Pnnce finds a Man of learning. THE prince was not much afflicted by this disaster, haying suffered himself to hope for a happier event only because he had no other means of escape in view. He still persisted RASSELAS. 15 41 his design to leave the happy valley by the first oppor- tunity. His imagination was now at a stand ; he had no prospect of entering into the world ; and, notwithstanding all his en- deavors to support himself, discontent, by degrees, preyed - upon him ; and he began again to lose his thoughts in sadness, when the rainy season, which in these countries is periodical, made it inconvenient to wander in the woods. The rain continued longer and with more violence than had ever been known : the clouds broke on the surrounding moun- tains, and the torrents streamed into the plain on every side, till the cavern was too narrow to discharge the water. The lake overflowed its banks, and all the level of the valley was covered with the inundation. The eminence on which the palace was built, and some other spots of rising ground, were all that the eye could now discover. The herds and flocks left the pasture, and both the wild beasts and the tame re- treated to the mountains. This inundation confined all the princes to domestic amuse- ._ ments ; and the attention of Rasselas was particularly seized by a poem, which Imlac^jpehearsed, upon the various condi- tions of humanity7~~He commanded the poet to attend him in his apartment, and recite his verses a second time ; then, entering into familiar talk, he thought himself happy in having found a man who knew the world so well, and could so skil- fully paint the scenes of life. He asked a thousand questions about things, to which, though common to all other mortals, his confinement from childhood had kept him a stranger. The poet pitied his ignorance, and loved his curiosity, and enter- tained him from day to day with novelty and instruction, so that the prince regretted the necessity of sleep, and longed till the morning should renew his pleasure. As they were sitting together, the prince commanded 1m* jac to relate his history, and to tell by what accident he was forced, or by what motive induced, to close his life in the happy valley. As he was going to begin his narrative, Rassela* was called to a concert, and obliged to restrain hifi curiosity till the evening. CHAP. VIII, The History of Imlac. THE close of the day is, in the regions of the torrid zone, the only season of diversion and entertainment, and it was 1 RASSELAS. theieioro midnight before the music ceased and the princess- es retired. Rasselas then called for his companion, and re- quired him to begin the story of his life. " Sir," said Imlac, " my history will not be long: the life that is devoted to knowledge passes silently away, and is very little diversified by events. To talk in public," to think in solitude, to read and to hear, to inquire and answer inquiries, is the business of a scholar. He wanders about the world without pomp or terror, and is neither known nor valued but by men like himself. " I was born in the kingdom of Goiama, at no great dis- tance from the fountain of the Nile. My father was a wealthy merchant, who traded between the inland countries of Africa and the ports of the Red Sea. He was honest, frugal, and diligent, but of mean sentiments and narrow comprehension ; he desired only to be rich, and to conceal his riches, lest he should be spoiled by the governor of the provinces." " Surely," said the prince, " my father must be negligent of his charge, if any man in his dominions dares take that which belongs to another. Does he not know that kings are accountable for injustice permitted as well as done? If I were emperor, not the meanest of my subjects should be op- pressed with impunity. My blood boils when I am told that a merchant durst not enjoy his honest gains for fear of losing them by the rapacity of power. Name the governor who robbed the people, that I may declare his crimes to the em- peror!" " Sir," said Imlac, " your ardor is the natural effect of virtue animated by youth : the lime will come when you will acquit your father, and perhaps hear with less impatience of the governor. Oppression is, in the Abissinian dominions, , r neither frequent nor tolerated ; but no form of government / has been yet discovered, by which cruelty can be wholly pre- vented. Subordination supposes power on one part and sub- jection on the other ; and u power be in the hands of men, it will sometimes be abused. The vigilance of the supreme magistrate may do much, but much will still remain undone. He can never know all the crimes that are committed, and can seldom punish all that he knows." " This," said the prince, " I do not understand; but I had rather hear thee than dispute. Continue thy narration." " My father," proceeded Imlac, " originally intended that I should have no other education than such as might qualify me for commerce ; and discovering in me great strength of memory and quickness of apprehension, often declared his RASSELAS. 17 hope that I should be some time the richest man in Abissi- nia." "Why," said the prince, " did thy father desire the in-^ crease of his wealth, when it was already greater than he durst discover or enjoy ? C am unwilling to doubt thy veraci- ty, yet inconsistencies cannot both be true." " Inconsistencies," answered Imlac, "cannot both be right; but, imputed to man, they may both be true. Yet diversity is not inconsistency. My father might expect a time of greater security. However, some desire is necessary to keep life in motion ; and he, whose real wants are supplied, must admit those of fancy." " This," said the prince, " I can in some measure con- ceive. 1 repent that I interrupted thee." " With this hope," proceeded Imlac, " he sent me to school : but when I had once found the delight of knowledge, and felt the pleasure of intelligence and the pride of inven- .-on, I began silently to despise riches, and determined to disappoint the purposes of my father, whose grossness of conception raised ray pity. I was twenty years old before his tenderness would expose me to the fatigue of travel ; in which time I had been instructed, by successive masters, in all the literature of my native country. As every hour taught me something new, I lived in a continual course of gratifica- tions ; but, as I advanced towards manhood, I lost much of the reverence with which I had been used to look on my in- structors ; because, when the lessons were ended, I did not find them wiser or better than common men. " At length my father resolved to initiate me in commerce ; and, opening one of his subterranean treasuries, counted out ten thousand pieces of gold. This, young man, said he, is the stock with which you must negotiate. I began with less than a fifth part, and you see how diligence and parsimony have increased it. This is your own, to waste or to improve. If you squander it by negligence or caprice, you must wait for my death before you will be rich ; if in four years you double your stock, we will thenceforward let subordination cease, and live together as friends and partners : for he shall be always equal with me, who is equally skilled in the art ol growing rich. " We laid our money upon camels, concealed in bales 01 cheap goods, and travelled to the shore of the Red Sea. When I cast my eye on the expanse of waters, my heart bounded like that of a prisoner escaped. I felt an unextin- guishable curiositv kindle in my mind, and resolved to snatch 18 RASSELAS. this opportunity of seeing the manners of other nations, and of learning sciences unknown in Abissinia. " I remembered that my father had obliged me to the im- provement of my stock, not by a promise, which I ought not to violate, but by a penalty, which I was at liberty to incur; and therefore determined to gratify my predominant desire, and, by drinking at the fountain of knowledge, to quench the thirst of curiosity. " As I was supposed to trade without connexion with my father, it was easy for me to become acquainted with the master of a ship, and procure a passage to some other coun- try. I had no motives of choice to regulate my voyage. It was sufficient for me, that, wherever I wandered, I should see a country which I had not seen before. I therefore en- tered a ship bound for Surat, having left a letter for my father declaring ny intention."^* CHAP. IX. The History of Imlac continued. " WHEN I first entered upon the world of waters, and lost sight of land, I looked round about me in pleasing terror, and thinking my soul enlarged by the boundless prospect, ima- gined that I could gaze around for ever without satiety ; but, m a short time, I grew weary of looking on barren unifoimity, where I could only see again what I had already seen. I then descended into the snip, and doubted for a while whe- ther all my future pleasures would not end, like this, in disgust and disappointment. Yet surely, said I, the ocean arid the land are very different; the only variety of water is rest and motion, but the earth has mountains and valleys, deserts and cities ; it is inhabited by men of different customs, and con- trary opinions ; and I may hope to find variety in life, though " I should miss it in nature. " With this thought I quieted my mind ; and amused my- self during the voyage, sometimes by learning from the sail- ors the art of navigation, which I have never practised, and sometimes by forming schemes for my conduct in different situations, in not one of which I have been ever placed. "I was almost weary of my naval amusements, when we safely landed at Surat. I secured my money, and, purchas- ing sorns commodities for show, joined myself to a caravan that was passing into the inland country. My companions, for some reason or other, conjecturing that I was rich, and, by my inquiries and admiration, finding that I was ignorant, RASSELAS. 10 considered me as a novice whom they had a right to cheat, and who was to learn,. at the usual expense, the art of fraud. They exposed me to the theft of servants and the exaction of officers, and saw me plundered upon false pretences, with- out any advantage to themselves, but that of rejoicing in the superiority of their own knowledge." ^^ ^ " Stop a moment," said the prince : " is there suob de pravity in man, as that he should injure another without be- nefit to himself? I can easily conceive that all are pleased with superiority ; but your ignorance was merely accidental, which, being neither your crime nor your folly, could afford them no reason to applaud themselves; arid the knowledge tself with very mean advantages ; and envy feels not its own happiness but when it may be compared with the misery of others. They were my enemies because they grieved to think me rich, and my oppressors because they delighted to find me weak." "Proceed," said the prince: " I doubt not of the facts which you relate, but imagine that you impute them taken motives." ' " In this company," said Imlac, " I arrived at capital of Indostan, the city in which the Great Mogul com. monly resides. I applied myself to the language of the country, and in a few months was able to converse with the learned men ; some of whom I found morose and reserved ; and others easy and communicative ; some were unwilling to teach another what they had with difficulty learned them- selves; and some showed that the end of their studies wasta gain the dignity of instructing. " To the Tutor of the young princes I recommended my. self so much, that I was presented to the emperor as a man of uncommon knowledge. The emperor asked me many questions concerning my country and my travels ; and though I cannot, now recollect any thini thau ne uttered above the power of a common man, he dismissed me astonished at his wisdom, and enamoured of his goodness. " My credit was now so high, that the merchants with whom I had travelled applied to me for recommendations to the ladies of the court. [ was surprised at their confidence of solicitation, and gently reproached them with their prac- tices on the road. They heard me with cold indifference, anc showed no tokens of shame or sorrow. 20 RASSELArf. " They then urged their request with the offer of a unbo , but what I would not do for kindness I would not do for money, and refused them ; not because they had injured me ; but because I would not enable them to injure others ; for I knew they would have made use of my credit to cheat those who should buy their wares. " Having resided at Agra till there was no more to be learned, I travelled into Persia, where I saw many remains of ancient magnificence, Infflf-trBserved many new accommo- dations of life. The Persians are a nation "eminently social, and their assemblies afforded me daily opportunities of re- marking characters and manners, and of tracing human na- ture through all its variations. " From Persia I passed into Arabia, where I saw a na- tion pastoral and warlike ; who lifa*N>ithout any settled ha- bitation, whose wealth is their flocks and herds, arid who have carried on, through ages, an hereditary war with mankind, though they never covet nor envy their possessions." CHAP. X. Imlac's History continued. A Dissertation upon Poetry. .**- v WHEREVER 1 went, 1 tounn that poetry was considered as ftie highest learning, and regarded with a veneration some- what approaching to that which man would pay to angelic na- ture. And yet it fills me with wonder, that, in almost all countries, the most, ancient poets are considered as the best ; whether it. be that every other kind of knowledge is an ac quisition gradually attained, and poetry is a gift conferred a' once ; or that the first poetry of every nation surprised them as a novelty, and retained the credit by consent which it re- ceived by accident at first ; or whether, as the province of poetry is to describe nature and passion, which are always the same, the first writers took possession of the most strik- ing objects for description and the most probable occurrences for fiction, and left nothing to those that followed the.m but transcription of the same events, and new combinations a the same images. Whatever be the reason, it is common!}) _ observed that the early writers are in possession of nature,! and their followers of art ; that the first excel in strength and invention, and the latter in elegance and refinement. " I was desirous to add my name to this illustrious frater- nity. I read all the poets of Persia a*id Arabia, and was able to repeat by memory the volumes that are suspended in * the mosque of Mecca. But I soon found that no man was RASSELAS. 21 ever great by imitation. My desire of excellence impeuea me to transfer my attention to nature and to life. Nature was to be my subject, and men to be my auditors. I could never describe what I had not seen ; I could not hope to move those with delight or terror, whose interests and opi- nions I did not understand. " Being now resolved to be a poet, I saw every thing with a new purpose ; my sphere of attention was suddenly mag- nified; no kind of knowledge was to be overlooked. I ranged mountains and deserts for images and resemblances, and pictured upon my mind every tree of the forest ana flower of the valley. I observed with equal care the crags of the rock and the pinnacles of the palace. Sometimes I wandered along the mazes of the rivulet, and sometimes watched the changes of the summer clouds. Tn a poet _no- thing can be useless. Whatever is beautiful, and whatever isOTe*a:dftn, must be familiar to his imagination ; he must be conversant with all that is awfully vast or elegantly little. The plants of the garden, the animals of the wood, the mi- nerals of the earth, and meteors of the sky, must all concur to store his mind with inexhaustible variety ; for every idea is useful for the enforcement or decoration of moral or reli- gious truth ; and he who knows most will have most power of diversifying his scenes, and of gratifying his reader with remote allusions and unexpected instruction. " All the appearances of na-ture I was therefore careful to study ; and every country \vnich I have surveyed has contri- Duted something* to my poetical powers." " In so wide a survey," said the prince, " you must surely nave left much unobserved. I have lived till now within the circuit of the mountains, and yet cannot walk abroad with- out the sight of something which I had never beheld before, or never heeded." " The business of a poet," said Imlac, " is to examine, not the individual, but the species ; to remark "general pro- perties and large appearances ; he does not number the streaks of the tulip, or describe the different shades of the verdure of the forest. He is to exhibit in his portraits 01 nature such prominent and striking features as recall the original to every mind ; and must neglect the minuter dis- criminations, which one may have remarked, and anothei have neglected, for those characteristics which are alike ob- vious to vigilance and carelessness. ,j " But .the knowledge of nature is only half the task oLa ^ ooet; hemust be acquainted likewise with all the modes of 22 RASSELAS. life. His character requires that he estimate the happiness and misery of every condition ; observe the power of all the passions in all their combinations ; and trace the changes of the human mind, as they are modified by various institutions and accidental influences of climate or custom, from the sprightliness of infancy to the despondence of decrepitude. He must divest himself of the prejudices of his age and country ; he must consider right and wrong in their abstract- ed and invariable state ; he must disregard present laws and opinions, and rise to general and transcendental truths, which will always be the same : he must, therefore, content himself with the slow progress of his name, contemn the praise of his own time, and commit his claims to the justice of posterity. He must write as the interpreter of nature, and the legislator of mankind, and consider himself as pre- siding over the thoughts and manners of future generations, as a being superior to time and place. " His labor is not yet at an end ; he must know many Ian- / guages and many sciences ; and, that his style may be wor- 1 thy of his thoughts, must, by incessant practice, familiarize / to himself every delicacy of speech and grace of harmony." CHAP. XI. Imlac's Narrative continued. A Hint on Pilgrimage. IMLAC now felt the enthusiastic fit, and was proceeding to aggrandize his own profession, when the prince cried out, " Enough ! thou hast convinced me that no human being can ever be a poet. Proceed with thy narration." " To be a poet," said Imlac, " is indeed very difficult.' " So difficult," returned the prince, " that I will at present hear no more of his labors. Tell me whither you went when you had seen Persia." " From Persia," said the poet, " I travelled through Syria, and for three years resided in Palestine, where I con- versed with great numbers of the norm em and western na- tions of Europe ; the nations which are now in possession of all power and all knowledge , whose armies are irresisti- ble, and whose fleets command the remotest parts of the globe. When I compared these men with the natives oJ. our own kingdom and those that surround us, they appeared almost another order of beings. In their countries it is diffi- cult to wish for any thing that may not be obtained : a thou- sand arts, of which we never heard, are continually laboring for their convenience and pleasure ; and whatever their own climate has denied them is supplied by their commerce." " By what means," said the prince, " are the European! RASSELAS. 23 thus powerful ? or why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa for trade or conquest, cannot the Asiatics and Africans invade their coasts, plant colonies in their ports, and give laws to their natural princes ? The same wind that carries them back would bring us thither." " They are more powerful, sir, than we," answered Im- lac, " because they are wiser ; knowledge will always pre- dominate over ignorance, as man governs the other animals. But why their knowledge is more than ours, I know not what reason can be given but the unsearchable will of the Supreme Being." " When," said the prince with a sigh, " shall I be able to visit Palestine, and mingle with this mighty confluence of nations ? Till that happy moment shall arrive, let me fill up the time with such representations as thou canst give me. I am not ignorant of the motive that assembles such numbers in that place, and cannot but consider it as the centre of wisdom and piety, to which the best and wisest men of every land must be continually resorting." " There are some nations," said Imlac, " that send few visitants to Palestine ; for many numerous and learned sects in Europe concur to censure pilgrimage as superstitious, or deride it as ridiculous." " You know," said the prince, " how little my life has made me acquainted with diversity of opinions : it will be too long to hear the arguments on both sides ; you, that have considered them, tell me the result." " Pilgrimage," said Imlac, " like many other acts of piety, may be reasonable or superstitious, according to the princi- ples upon which it is performed. Long journeys in search of truth are not commanded. Truth, such as is necessary to the regulation of life, is always found where it is honestly sought. Change of place is no natural cause of the increase of piety, for it inevitably produces dissipation of mind. Yet, since men go every day to view the fields where great actions have been performed, and return with stronger impressions of the event, curiosity of the same kind may naturally dis- pose us to view that country whence our religion had its be- ginning ; and I believe no man surveys those awful scenes without some confirmation of holy resolutions. That the Supreme Being may be more easily propitiated in one place than in another, is the dream of idle superstition ; but that some places may operate upon our own minds in an uncom- mon manner, is an opinion which hourly experience will jus- tify. He who supposes that his vices may be more success- 24 RASSELAS ully combated in Palestine will, perhaps, find himself mis- taken ; yet he mav go thither without folly : he who thinks they will be more freely pardoned, dishonors at once his rea- son and religion." " These," said tne prince, tl are European distinctions. I will consider them another time. What have you found to be the effect of knowledge ? Are those - nations happier than we ?" "There is so much infelicity," said the poet, "in the world, that scarce any man has leisure from his own dis- tresses to estimate the comparative happiness of others. Knowledge is certainly one of the means of pleasure, as is confessed by the natural desire which every mind feels of in- creasing its ideas. Ignorance is mere privation, by which nothing can be produced ; it is a vacuity in which the soul sits motionless and torpid for want of attraction ; and, with- out knowing why, we always rejoice when we learn, and grieve when we forget. I am therefore inclined to conclude, that if nothing counteracts the natural consequence of learn- ing, we grow more happy as our minds take a wider range. " In enumerating the particular comforts of life, we shall find many advantages on the side of the Europeans. They cure wounds and diseases with which we languish and pe- rish. We suffer inclemencies of weather which they can obviate. They have engines for the despatch of many labo- rious works, which we must perform by manual industry. There is such communication between distant places, that one friend can hardly be said to be absent from another. Their policy removes all public inconveniences : they have roads cut through the mountains ; and bridges laid upon their rivers. And, if we descend to the privacies of life, theii habitations are more commodious, and their possessions are more secure." " They are surely happy," said the prince, " who have all these conveniences, of which I envy none so much as the facility with which separated friends interchange their thoughts." " The Europeans," answered Imlac, " are less unhappy than we, but they are not happy. Human life is every where a state in which much is to be endured, and little to be enjoyed." RASSELAS. 25 CHAP. XII. The Story of Imlac continued. " I AM not willing," said the prince, " to suppose that hap* piness is so parsimoniously distributed to mortals ; nor can I believe but that, if I had the choice of life, I should be able to fill every day with pleasure. I would injure no man, and should provoke no resentments : I would relieve every dis- tress, and should enjoy the benedictions of gratitude. I would choose my friends among the wise, and my wife among the virtuous ; and therefore should be in no danger from treachery or unkindness. My children should, by my wre, be learned and pious, and would repay to my age what their childhood had received. What would dare to molest him who might call on every side to thousands enriched by his bounty, or assisted by his power? And why should not life glide away in the soft reciprocation of protection and re- verence ? All this may be done without the help of Euro- pean refinements, which appear by their effects to be rather specious than useful. Let us leave them, and pursue our journev." " From Palestine," said Imlac, " I passed through manv regions of Asia ; in the more civilized kingdoms as a trader and among the barbarians of the mountains as a pilgrim. Af last I began to long for my native country, that I might re- pose after my travels and fatigues, in the places where I had spent my earliest years, and gladden my old companions with the recital of my adventures. Often did I figure to myself those with whom I had sported away the gay hours of dawn- ing life, sitting round me in its evening, wondering at my tales, and listening to my counsels. " When this thought had taken possession of my mind, I considered every moment as wasted which did not bring me nearer to Abissmia. I hastened into Egypt, and, notwith- standing my impatience, was detained ten months in the con- templation of its ancient magnificence, and in inquiries after the remains of its ancient learning. I found in Cairo a mix- ture of all nations; some brought thither by die l&ViJ Ul knowledge, some by the hope of gain, many by the desire o living after their own manner without observation, and of ly- ja^lud in the obscurity of multitudes : for in a city populous 26 RASSELAS. as Cairo, it is possible to obtain at the same time the gratifi- cations of society, and the secrecy of solitude. " From Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked or) the Red Sea, passing along the coast, till I arrived at the port from which I had departed twenty years before. Here I joined myself to a caravan, and re-entered my native country. " I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen, and the congratulations of my friends ; and was not without hope that my father, whatever value he had set upon riches, would own with gladness and pride a son who was able to add to the felicity and honor of the nation. But I was soon convinced that my thoughts were vain. My father had been dead fourteen years, having divided his wealth among my brothers, who were removed to some other provinces. Of my companions, the greater part were in the grave; of the rest, some could with difficulty remember me, and some con- sidered me as one corrupted by foreign manners. " A man used to vicissitudes is not easily dejected. I forgot, after a time, my disappointment, and endeavored to recommend myself to the nobles of the kingdom : they ad- mitted me to their tables, heard my story, and dismissed me. I opened a school, and was prohibited to teach. I then re- solved to sit down in the quiet of domestic life, and addressed a lady that was fond of my conversation, but rejected my suit because my father was a merchant. " Wearied at last with solicitation and repulses, I resolved to hide myself for ever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion or caprice of others. I waited for the time vftien the gate of the happy valley should open, that I might bid farewell to hope and fear : the day came ; my perform- ^ance was distinguished with favor, and I resigned myself with joy to perpetual confinement." " Hast thou here found happiness at last?" said Rasselas. " Tell me without reserve ; art thou content with thy condi- tion ? or dost thou wish to be again wandering and inquiring? All the inhabitants of this valley celebrate their lot, and, at the annual visit of the emperor, invite others to partake of their felicity." " Great prince," said Imlac, " I shall speak the truth : I - know not one of all your attendants who does not lament the hour when he entered this retreat. I am less unhappy than the rest, because I have a mind replete with images, which I can vary 'and combine at pleasure. I can amuse my soli- tude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins to fade from my memory, and by recollection of the accidents of my RASSELA8. 2? past life. Yet all this ends in the sorrowful consideration that my acquirements are now useless, and that none of my pleasures can be again enjoyed. The rest, whose minds have no impression but of the present moment, are either corroded by malignant passions, or sit stupid in the gloom of perpetual vacancy." " What passions can infest those," said the prince, " who have no rivals ? We are in a place where impotence pre- cludes malice, and where all envy is repressed by communi- ty of enjoyments." " There may be community," said Imlac, " of material possessions, but there can never be community of love or of esteem. It must happen that one will please more than an- other: he that knows himself despised will always be en- vious : and still more envious and malevolent if he is con- demned to live in the presence of those who despise him. The invitations by which they allure others to a state which they feel to be wretched, proceed from the natural malignity of hopeless misery. They are weary of themselves, and of each other, and expect to find relief in new companions. They envy the liberty which their folly has forfeited, and would gladly see all mankind in^risoned like themselves. " From this crime, however, I am wholly free. No man can say that he is wretched by my persuasion. I look with pity on the crowds who are annually soliciting admission to captivity, and wish that it were lawful for me to warn them of their danger." " My dear Imlac," said the prince, " I will open to thee my whole heart. I have long meditated an escape from the happy valley. I have examined the mountain on every side, but find myself insuperably barred : teach me the way to break my prison ; thou shalt be the companion of my flight, the guide of my rambles, the partner of my fortune, and my sole director in the choice of life." " Sir," answered the poet, " your escape will be d^ficult, and, perhaps, you may soon repent your curiosity. The world, which you figure to yourself smooth and quiet as the lake in the valley, you will find a sea foaming with tempests arid boiling with whirlpools; you will be sometimes over- 4 whelmed by the waves of violence, and sometimes dashed against the rocks of treachery. Amidst wrongs and frauds, competitions and anxieties, you will wish a thousand times for 28 RASSELAS. these seats of quiet, and willingly quit hope to be free from fear." " Do not seek to deter me from my purpose," said the prince : " I am impatient to see what thou hast seen ; and since thou art thyself weary of the valley, it is evident that thy former state was better than this. Whatever be the con- sequence of my experiment, I am resolved to judge with mine own eyes of the various conditions of men, and then to make deliberately my choice of life" " I am afraid," said Imlac, " you are hindered by stronger restraints than my persuasions ; yet, if your determination is fixed, I do not counsel you to despair. Few things are impossible to diligence and skill." CHAP. XIII. Rasselas discovers the Means of Escape. THE prince now dismissed his favorite to rest, but the nar- rative of wonders and novelties filled his mind with pertur- bation. He revolved all that he had heard, and prepared in- numerable questions for the morning. Much of his uneasiness was now removed. He had a friend to whom he could impart his thoughts, and whose ex- perience could assist him in his designs. His heart was no longer condemned to swell with silent vexation. He thought that even the happy valley might be endured with such a companion, and that, if they could range the world together, he should have nothing further to desire. In a few days the water was discharged, and the ground dried. The prince and Imlac then walked out together, to converse without the notice of the rest. The prince, wnose thoughts were always on the wing, as he passed by the gate, said, with a countenance of sorrow, " Why art thou so strong, and why is man so weak ?" " Man is not weak," answered his companion ; " know- ledge is more than equivalent to force. The master of me- chanics laughs at strength. I can burst the gate, but cannot do it secretly. Some other expedient must be tried." As they were walking on the side of the mountain, they observed that the conies, which the rain had driven from their burrows, had taken shelter among the bushes, and formed holes behind them, tending upwards in an oblique line. " It has been the opinion of antiquity," said Imlac, " that human reason borrowed many arts from the instinct of ani- mals ; let us, therefore^ not think ourselves degraded by learn- RASSELAS. ing from the cony. We may escape by piercing the moun -- tain in the same direction. We will begin where the sum mit hangs over the middle part, and labor upward till we shaD issue out beyond the prominence." The eyes of the prince, when he heard this proposal, spark- led with joy. The execution was easy, and the success cer No time was now lost. They hastened early in the morn- ing to choose a place proper for their mine. They clamber ed with great fatigue among crags and brambles, and return*, ed without having discovered any part that favored their de- sign. The second and the third day were spent in the same Banner, and with the same frustration. But on the fourth -* they found a small cavern, concealed by a thicket, where they resolved to make their experiment. Imlac procured instruments proper to hew stone and re- move earth, and they fell to their work the next day with more eagerness than vigor. They were presently exhausted oy their efforts, and sat down to pant upon the grass. The prince, for a moment, appeared to be discouraged. " Sir," said his companion, " practise will enable us to continue our labor for a longer time : mark, however, how far we have ad- vanced, and ye will find that our toil will some time have an end. Great works are performed not by strength, but per- ' severance : yonder palace was raised by single stones, yet you see its height and spaciousness. He that shall walk with vigor three hours a day, will pass in seven years a space equal to the circumference of the globe." They returned to their work day after day, and, in a short time, found a fissure in the rock, which enabled them to pass far with very little obstruction. This Rasselas considered as a good omen. " Do not disturb your mind," said Imlac, " with other hopes or fears than reason may suggest: if you are pleased with prognostics of good, you will be terrified likewise with tokens of evil, and your whole life will be a prey to superstition. Whatever facilitates our work is more than an omen ; it is a cause of success. This is one of those pleasing surprises which often happen to active resolution Many things difficult to design prove easy to performance.'' CHAP. XIV. Rasselas and Imlac receive an unexpected Visit. THEY had now wrought their way to the middle, and so- .aced their toil with the approach of liberty, when the prince, 30 RASSELAS. coming down to refresn himself with air, found his sister Ne S kayah standing at the mouth of the cavity. He started, and stood confused, afraid to tell his design, and yet hopeless to conceal it. A few moments determined him to repose on her fidelity, and secure her secrecy by a declaration without reserve. "Do not imagine," said the princess, " that I came hither as a spy : I had long observed from my window that you and Imlac directed your walk every day towards the same point, but I did not suppose you had any better reason for the pre- ference than a cooler shade, or more fragrant bank; nor fol- lowed you with any other design than to partake of your con- versation. Since, then, not suspicion but fondness has de- tected you, let me not lose the advantage of my discovery. _,? I am equally weary of confinement with yourself, and not less desirous of knowing what is done or suffered in the world. Permit me to fly with you from this tasteless tranquillity, which will yet grow more loathsome when you have left me. You may deny rne to accompany you, but cannot hinder me from following." The prince, who loved Ntjk^aysth above his other sisters, had no inclination to refuse her request, and grieved that he had lost an opportunity of showing his confidence by a vo- luntary communication. It was therefore agreed, that she should leave the valley with them ; and that, in the mean time, she should watch lest any other straggler should, by chance or curiosity, follow them to the mountain. At length their labor was at an end : they saw light be- yond the prominence, and, issuing to the top of the moun- tain, beheld the Nile, yet a narrow current, wandering be- neath them. The prince looked round with rapture, anticipated all the pleasures of travel, and in thought was already transported beyond his father's dominions. Imlac, though very joyful at his escape, had less expectation of pleasure in the world, which he had before tried, and of which he had been weary. Rasselas was so much delighted with a wider horizon, that he could not soon be persuaded to return into the valley. He informed his sister that the way was now open, and that no* thing now remained but to prepare for their departure. RASSELAS. CHAP. XV. The Prince and Princess leave the Valley, and see many Wonders. THE prince and princess had jewels sufficient to make them rich whenever they came into a place of commerce ^ which, by Imlac's direction, they hid in their clothes, and, on the night of the next full moon, all left the valley. The prin- cess was followed only by a single favorite, who did not know whither she was going. They clambered through the cavity, and began to go down on the other side. The princess and her maid turned their eyes toward every part, and seeing nothing to bound their prospect, considered themselves in danger of being lost in a dreary vacuity. They stopped and trembled. " I am al- most afraid," said the princess, " to begin a journey, of which I cannot perceive an end, and to venture into this immense plain, where I may be approached on every side by men whom I never saw." The prince felt nearly the same emo- tions, though he thought it more manly to conceal them. Imlac smiled at their terrors, and encouraged them to pro- ceed ; but the princess continued irresolute till she had been imperceptibly drawn forward too far to return. In the morning they found some shepherds in the field, who set some milk and fruit before them. The princess wonder- ed that she did not see a palace ready for her reception, and a table spread with delicacies ; but being faint and hungry, she drank the milk and ate the fruits, and thought them of a higher flavor than the products of the valley. They travelled forward by easy journeys, being all unac- customed to toil and difficulty, and knowing that, though they might be missed, they could not be pursued. In a few days chey came into a more populous region, where Imlac was di- verted with the admiration which his companions expressed at the diversity of manners, stations, and employments Their dress was such as might not bring upon them the sus picion of having any thing to conceal ; yet the prince, wher- ever he came, expected to be obeyed, and the princess was frighted, because those who came into her presence did not orostrate themselves. Imlac was forced to observe them ^ RASSELAS. *rith great vigilance, lest they should betray their rank by Jieir unusual behavior, and detained them several weeks in the first village, to accustom them to the sight of common mortals. By degrees the royal wanderers were taught to understand that they had for a time laid aside their dignity, and were to expect only such regard as liberality and courtesy could pro- cure. And Imlac, having, by many admonitions, prepared them to endure the tumults of a port, and the ruggedness of the commercial race, brought them down to the sea-coast. The prince and his sister, to whom every thing was new, were gratified equally at all places, and therefore remained for some months at the port without any inclination to pass further. Imlac was content with their stay, because he did not think it safe to expose them, unpractised in the world, to the hazards of a foreign country. At last he began to fear lest they should be discovered, and proposed to fix a day for their departure. They had no pre- tensions to judge for themselves, and referred the whole scheme to his direction. He therefore took passage in a ship to Suez, and when the time came, with great difficulty pre- vailed on the princess to enter the vessel. They had a quick tnd prosperous voyage ; and from Suez travelled by land to Cairo. CHAP. XVI. They enter Cairo, andjind every Man happy. As they approached the city, which filled the strangers with astonishment, " This," said Imlac to the prince, " is the olace where travellers and merchants assemble from all cor- ners of the earth. You will here find men of every charac- ter, and every occupation. Commerce is here honorable : I will act as merchant, and you shall live as strangers, who have no other end of travel than curiosity ; it will soon be observed that we are rich : our reputation will procure us access to all whom we shall desire to know; you shall see all the conditions of humanity, and enable yourselves at leisure to make your choice of life." They now entered the town, stunned by the noise, and of- fended by the crowds. Instruction had not yet so prevailed over habit, but thai they wondered to see themselves pass un listinguishod along the streets, and met by the lowest 01 RASSELAS. 3'i the people without reverence or notice. The princess could not at first bear the thought of being levelled with the vulgar, and for some time continued in her chamber, where she was served by her favorite, Pekuah, as in the palace of the vat- ley. Imlac, who understood traffic, sold part of the jewels the next day, and hired a house, which he adorned with such magnificence, that he was immediately considered as a merchant of great wealth. His politeness attracted many acquaintance, and his generosity made him courted by many dependants. His companions, not being able to mix in the conversation, could n*a,ke no discovery of their ignorance or surprise, and were gradually initiated in the world, as they gained knowledge of the language. The prince had, by frequent lectures, been taught the use and nature of money ; but the ladies could not, for a long time comprehend what the merchants did with small pieces of gold and silver, or why things of so little use should be received as an equivalent to the necessaries of life. They studied the language two years, while Imlac was - preparing to set before them the various ranks and conditions of mankind. He grew acquainted with all who had any thing uncommon in their fortune or conduct. He frequented the voluptuous and the frugal, the idle and the busy, the merchants and the men of learning. The prince now being able to converse with fluency^, and having learned die caution necessary to be observed in his intercourse with strangers, began to accompany Imlac to places of resort, and to enter into all assemblies, that he might make his choice of life. For some time he thought choice needless, because all ap- peared to him really happy. Wherever he went he met gay- ety and kindness, and heard the song of joy or the laugh of carelessness. He began to believe that the world overflowed , with universal plenty, and that nothing was withheld either * from want or merit ; that every hand showered liberality, and every heart melted with benevolence : " and who then," says he, will be suffered to be wretched T\ Imlac permitted the pleasing delusion, and was unwilling to crush the hope of inexperience : till one day, having sat a while silent, "I know not," said the prince, " what can be the reason that I am more unhappy than any of our friends I see them perpetually and unalterably cfaserful, but feel my own mind restless and uneasy. I am ^satisfied with those pleasures which I seem most to court. I live in the crowds 3 34 RASSELAS. of jollity, not so mucn to enjoy company as to shun myself and am only loud and merry to conceal my sadness." " Every man," said Imlac, " may, by examining his own mind, guess what passes ia the minds of others : when you feel that your own gayety is counterfeit, it may justly lead you to suspect that of your companions not to be sincere. Envy is commonly reciprocal. We are long before we are con- vinced that happiness is never to be found, and each believes it possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of obtaining it for himself. In the assembly, where you passed the last night, there appeared such sprightliness of air, and volatility of fancy, as might have suited beings of a higher order, forme'd to inhabit serener regions, inaccessible to care or sorrow : yet. believe me, prince, there was not one who did not dread the moment when solitude should deliver him to the tyranny of reflection." " This," said the prince, " may be true of others, since it ia true of me ; yet, whatever be the general infelicity of man, one condition is more happy than another, and wisdom surely ^directs us to take the least evil in the choice of life" " The causes of good and evil," answered Imlac, " are so various and uncertain, so often entangled with each other, so ' diversified by various relations, and so much subject to acci- "i dents which cannot be foreseen, that he who would fix his condition upon incontestable reasons of preference, must live and die inquiring and deliberating." "But surely," said ~ ely," said Rasselas, " the wise men, to whom we listen with reverence and wonder, chose that mode of life for themselves which they thought most likely to make them happy." " Very few," said the poet, " live by choice. Every man is placed in the present condition by causes which acted with- out his f res ig nt ) an ^ w " n which he did not always willingly co-operatej) and therefore you will rarely meet one who doea t think the lot of his neighbor better than his own." " I am pleased to think," said the prince, " that my birth has given me at least one advantage over others, by enabling me to determine for myself. I have here the world before me I will review it at leisure : surely happiness is somewher* o be found."' RASSELAS. 35 CHAP. XVII. The Prince associates with young Men nj spirit and gayety. RASSELAS rose next day, and resolve*! to begin his experi- ments upon life. " Youth," cried he, " is the time of glad- ness : I will join myself to the young men, whose only busi- ness is to gratify their desires, and whose time is all spent in a succession of enjoyments." To such societies he was readily admitted ; but a few days brought him back weary and disgusted. Their mirth was without images, their laughter without motive ; their plea- sures were gross and sensual, in which the mind had no part ; their conduct was at once wild and mean ; they laughed at order and at law, but the frown of power dejected, and the eye of wisdom abashed them. The prince soon concluded that he should never be happy in a course of life of which he was ashamed. He thought it unsuitable to a reasonable being to act without a plan, and to be sad or cheerful only by r.hance. "Happiness," said he, " must be something solid and permanent, without fear and without uncertainty." But his young companions had gained so much of his re- gard by their frankness and courtesy, that he could not leav* them without warning and remonstrance. " IVly friends,* said he, " I have seriously considered our manners arid out prospects, and find that we have mistaken our own interest , the first years of man must make provision for the last. He that never thinks, never can be wise. Perpetual levity must end in ignorance ; and intemperance, though it may fire the fepirits for an hour, will make life short or miserable. Let us consider that youth is of no long duration, and that in mature age, when the enchantments of fancy shall cease, and phan- toms of delight dance no more about us, we shall have no comforts but the esteem of wise men, and the means of doing good. Let us, therefore, stop, while to stop is in our pow- er : let us live as men who are some time to grow old, and to whom it will be the most dreadful of all evils to count their past years by follies, and to be reminded of their former luxuriance of health only by the maladies which riot has produced." They stared awhile in silence one upon another, and, at 36 RASSELAS. last, drove him away by a general chorus of continued laugh- ter. The consciousness that his sentiments were just, and M intention kind, was scarcely sufficient to support him against the horror of derision. But he recovered his tranquillity, and pursued his search. g h CHAP. XVIII. The Prince Jinds a wise and happy Man. As he was one day walking in the street, he saw a spacious building, which all were, by the open doors, invited to enter ; he followed the stream of people, and found it a hall or school of declamation, in which professors read lectures to their au- ditory. He fixed his eye upon a sage raised above the rest, who discoursed with great energy on the government of the passions. His look was venerable, his action graceful, his pronunciation clear, and his diction elegant. He sbowed, with reat strength of sentiment, and variety of illustration, tha* uman nature is degraded and debased, when the lower facul- es predominate over the higher ; that when fancy, the parent of passion, usurps the dominion of the mind, nothing ensues but the natural effect of unlawful government, perturbation; and confusion ; that she betrays the fortresses of the intellect to rebels, and excites her children to sedition against their lawful sovereign. He compared reason to the sun, of which the light is constant, uniform, and lasting ; and fancy to a meteor, of bright, but transitory lustre, irregular in its mo- tion and delusive in its direction. He then communicated the various precepts given from time to time for the conquest of passion, and displayed the happiness of those who had obtained the important victory, after which man is no longer the slave of fear, nor the fool of hope; is no more emaciated by envy, inflamed by anger, emasculated by tenderness, or depressed by grief; but walks on calmly through the tumults or privacies of life, as the sun pursues alike his course through the calm or the stormy sky. He enumerated many examples of heroes immoveable by pain or pleasure, who looked with indifference on those modes or accidents to which the vulgar give the names of good and evil. He exhorted his hearers to lay aside their prejudices, and arm themselves against the shafts of malice or misfortune, by invulnerable patience : concluding, that this state only was happiness, and that this happiness was in every one s power." RASSELAS. 3 Rasselas listened to him with the veneration due to the in- structions of a superior being, and, waiting for him at the door humbly implored the liberty of visiting so great a master o true wisdom. The lecturer hesitated a moment, when Ras selas put a purse of gold into his hand, which he received with a mixture of joy and wonder. " I have found," said the prince, at his return to Imlac, " a man who can teach all that is necessary to be known ; who, from the unshaken throne of rational fortitude, looks down on the scenes of life changing beneath him. He speaks, and at- tention watches his lips. He reasons, and conviction closes his periods. This man shall be my future guide : I will learn his doctrines, and imitate his life." " Be not too hasty," said Imlac, " to trust, or to admire, the teachers of morality : they discourse like angels, but they live like men." RasseTas, who could not conceive how any man could rea- son so forcibly without feeling the cogency of his own argu- ments, paid his visit in a few days, and was denied admission. He had now learned the power of money, and made his way by a piece of gold to the inner apartment, where he found the philosopher in a room half darkened, with his eyes misty, and his face pale. " Sir," said he, "you are come at a time when all human friendship is useless : what I suffer cannot be re- medied, what I have lost cannot be supplied. My daughter, my only daughter, from whose tenderness I expected all the comforts of my age, died last night of a fever. My views, my purposes, my hopes are at an end : I am now a lonely being, disunited from society." " Sir," said the prince, " mortality is an event by which a I wise man can never be surprised : we know that death is al- I ways near, and it should therefore always be expected." I " Young man," answered the philosopher, " you speak like ' one that has never felt the pangs of separation." "Have you then forgot the precepts," said Rasselas, " which you so powerfully enforced ? Has wisdom no strength to arm the heart against calamity? Consider that external things are naturally variable, but truth and reason are always the same.*' " What comfort," said the mourner, u can truth arid reason afford me ? of what effect are they now, but to tell me. that my daughter will not be restored ?" The prince, whose humanity would not suffer him to insult misery with reproof went away, convinced of the emptinesi 38 RASSELAS. of rhetorical sounds, and the inefficacy of polished period* and studied sentences. CHAP. XIX. A Glimpse of Pastoral Life. HE was still eager upon the same inquiry ; and having heard of a hermit, that lived near the lowest cataract of th Nile, and filled the whole country with the fame of his sane, tity, resolved to visit his retreat, and inquire whether that fe- licity, which public life could not afford, was to be found in solitnde ; and whether a man, whose age and virtues made him venerable, could teach any peculiar art of shunning evils, or enduring them. Imlac and the princess agreed to accompany him ; ana after the necessary preparations, they began their journey. Their way lay through the fields, where shepherds tended their flocks, and the lambs were playing upon the pasture. u This," said the poet, " is the life which has been often ce- lebrated for its innocence and quiet ; let us pass the heat of the day among the shepherds' tents, and know whether all our searches are not to terminate in pastoral simplicity." The proposal pleased them, and they induced the shep- herds, by small presents and familiar questions, to tell the opinion of their own state : they were so rude and ignorant, so little able to compare the good with the evil of the occupa- tion, and so indistinct in their narratives and descriptions, that very little could be learned from them. But it was evident that their hearts were cankered with discontent^ that they considered themselves as condemned to labor for the luxury of the rich, and looked up with stupid malevolence towards those that were placed above them. The princess pronounced with vehemence, that she would never suffer these envious savages to be her companions, and that she should not soon be desirous of seeing any more spe- cimens of rustic happiness ; but could not believe that all the accounts of primeval pleasures were fabulous, and was in doubt whether life had anything that could he justly preferred to the placid gratifications of fields and woods. She hoped that the time would come, when, with a few virtuous and elegant companions, she should gather flowers planted by her own hands, fondle the lambs of her own ewe, and listen without care, among brooks and breezes, to one of her maidens read- ing in the shade. RASSELAS. CHAP. XX. The Danger of Prosperity. ON the next day they continued their journey, till the heat compelled them to look round for shelter. At a small distance /iey saw a thick wood, which they no sooner entered than mey perceived they were approaching the habitations of men. The shrubs were diligently cut away to open walks whre the shades were darkest ; the boughs of opposite trees were - artificially interwoven, seats of flowery turf were raised in va- cant spaces, and a rivulet, that wantoned along the side of a winding path, had its banks sometimes opened into small ba- sins, and its streams sometimes obstructed by little mounds of stone heaped together to increase its murmurs. They passed slowly through the wood, delighted with such unexpected accommodations, and entertained each other with conjecturing what, or who, he could be, that in those rude and unfrequented regions had leisure and art for such harm- less luxury. As they advanced they heard the sound of music, and saw youths and virgins dancing in the grove ; and, going still far- ., ther, beheld a stately palace built upon a hill, surrounded with woods. The laws of eastern hospitality allowed them to en- ter, and the master welcomed them like a man liberal and wealthy. He was skilful enough in appearances soon to discern that they were no common guests, and spread his table with mag- nificence. The eloquence of Imlac caught his attention, and I tne lofty courtesy of the princess excited his respect. When | they offered to depart, he entreated their stay, and was the next day more unwilling to dismiss them than before. They were easily persuaded to stop, and civility grew up in time to freedom and confidence. The prince now saw all the domestics cheerful, and all the face of nature smiling round the place, and could not forbear to hope that he should find here what he was seeking : but when he was congratulating the master upon his possessions, - he answered with a sigh, " My condition has indeed the ap- pearance of happiness, but appearances are delusive. My prosperity puts my life in danger; the Bassa of Egypt is my 4beylfiust at lea^TgcTput of the world before thev 'Qee tho^wlftftn-tfrgyTove best either wise or great. """"F ronTfheiT^cnTldreh, if tKey have less*to fear, they have less also to hope ; and they lose, without an equivalent, the joys of early love, and the convenience of uniting with man- ners pliant, and minds susceptible of new impressions, which RASSELAS. 55 might wear away their dissimilitudes by long cohabitation, as soft bodies, by continual attrition, conform their surfaces to each other. . \ "I believe it will be found that those who marry late are T I best pleased with their children, and those who marry early A* I with their partners." "\y * " Tte union of these two affections," said Rasselas, * " would produce all that could be wished. Perhaps there is a time when marriage might unite them ; a time neither too early for the father nor too late for the husband." " Every hour," answered the princess, " confirms my pre- judice in favor of the position so often uttered by the mouth j I of Imlac, ' That nature sets her gifts on the right hand and on ; I the left.' Those conditions which flatter hope and attract desire are so constituted, that as we approach one we recede from another. There are goods so opposed that we canno* seize both, but, by too much prudence, may pass between them at too great a distance to reach either. This is often the fate of long consideration he dnfts nptfring wj?n endp.avnrs to *" do mojr j gj:han is plowed to humanity. Flatter not yourself ^ ^^ritncontrarietieTof pleasure. Ofthe blessings set before you make your choice, and be content. No man can taste the fruits of autumn, while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of the spring : no man can at the same time fill his cup from the source and from the mouth of the Nile." CHAP. XXX. Imlac enters, and changes the Coversatton. HERE Imlac entered, and interrupted them. " Imlac," said Rasselas, " I have been taking from the princess the dismal history of private life, and am almost discouraged from further search." " It seems to me," said Imlac, " that while you are mak- ing the choice of life, you neglect to live. You wander about a single city, which, however large and diversified, can now afford few novelties, and forget that you are in a country fa- mous among the earliest monarchies for the power and wis- dom of its inhabitants ; a country where the sciences first dawned that illuminate the world, and beyond which the arts cannot be traced of civil society or domestic life. " The old Egyptians have left behind them monuments of industry and power before which all European magnificence 66 RASSELA3. is confessed to fade away. The ruins of tneir architecture are the schools of modern builders, and from the wonders which time has spared, we may conjecture, though uncer- tainly, what it has destroyed." " My curiosity," said Rasselas, " does not very strongly lead me to survey piles of stone, or mounds of earth ; my bu- siness is with man. I came hither not to measure fragments of temples, or trace choked aqueducts, but to look upon the various scenes of the present world." " The things that are now before us," said the princess, " require attention, and deserve it. What have I to do with the heroes or the monuments of ancient times with times which never can return, and heroes, whose form of life was different from all that the present condition of mankind requires or allows ?" " To know any thing," returned the poet, " we must know /its effects ; to see men, we must see their works, that we / may learn what reason has dictated, or passion has incited, and. find what are the most powerful motives of action. To judge rightly of the present, we must oppose it to the past ; for all judgment is comparative, and of the future nothing, can be known. The truth is, that no mind is much employed upon the present : recollection and anticipation fill up almost all our moments. Our passions are joy and grief, love and hatred, hope and fear. Of joy and grief, the past is the ob- ject : and the future, of hope and fear : even love and hatred respect the past, for the cause must have been before the ef- fect. ^Thepresent state ol Jhin%s_is Ifcq consequence of the former; ajvtiHtTS^atural to inquire what were the sources of fKe good that we enjoy, or the evils that we suffer. If we act only for ourselves, to neglect the study of history is not prudent : if we are intrusted with the care of others, it is not just. N I|^iojailce^wJinjt^s^^ criminal : and ne may properly be chltrgecTwitirevil who~fefused to learn now he might prevent it. " There is no part of history so generally useful as that which relates to the progress of the human mind, the gradual improvement of reason, the successive advances of science, the vicissitudes of learning and ignorance, which are the light and darkness of thinking beings, the extinction and re- suscitation of arts, and the revolutions of the intellectual world. If accounts of battles and invasions are peculiarly the business of princes, the useful and elegant arts are not RASSELAS. 57 to be neglected ; those who have kingdoms to govern, have understandings to cultivate. " Example is always more efficacious than precept. A soldier is formed in war, and a painter must copy pictures. In this, contemplative life has the advantage : great actions are seldom seen, but the labors of art are always at hand for those who desire to know what art has been able to per- form. " When the eye, or the imagination, is struck with any un- common work, the next transition of an active mind is to the means by which it was performed. Here begins the true use of such contemplation ; we enlarge our comprehension by new ideas, and perhaps recover some art lost to mankind, or learn what is less perfectly known in our own country. At least we compjirp our pwn with former times. and either r- ur improvements, or, what is the first motion to- , discover our defects." I am witting," said the prince, " to see all that can de- serve my search." " And I," said the princess, " shall rejoice to learn something of the manners of antiquity." " The most pompous monument of Egyptian greatness, and one of the most bulky works of manual industry," said Imlac, " are the pyramids : fabrics raised before the time of history, and of which the earliest narratives afford us only uncertain traditions. Of these the greatest is still standing, very little injured by time." " Let us visit them to-morrow," said Nekayah: " I have ^ often heard of the pyramids, and shall not rest till I hav seen them, within and without, with my own eyes." CHAP. XXXI. They visit the Pyramids. THE resolution being thus taken, they set out the net day. They laid tents upon their camels, being resolved to stay among the pyramids till their curiosity was fully satisfied, \ They travelled gently, turned aside to every thing remark- able, stopped from time to time and conversed with the in- habitants, and observed the various appearances of towns ruined and inhabited, of wild and cultivated nature. When they came to the great pyramid, they were asto- nished at the extent of the base, and the height of the top. Imlac explained to them the principles upon which th** PJ ra - \ Tnidal forth was cho"eh ibr a fabric intended to ccnextend its duration with that of the world : he showed that its gradual 58 RASSELAS. diminution gave it such stability, as defeated all the common attacks of the elements, and could scarcely be overthrown by earthquakes themselves, the least resistible of natural violence. A concussion that should shatter the pyramid would threaten the dissolution of the continent. They measured all its dimensions, and pitched their tents at its foot. Next day they prepared to enter its interior apartments, and having hired the common guides, climbed up to the first passage ; when the favorite of the princess, look- ing into the cavity, stepped back and trembled. " Pekuah,'' said the princess, " of what art thou afraid ?" " Of the narrow entrance," answered the lady, " and ot the dreadful gloom. I dare not enter a place which must surely be inhabited by unquiet souls. The original posses- sors of these dreadful vaults will start up before us, and per- haps shut us in for ever." She spoke, and threw her arms round the neck of her mistress. " If all your fear be of apparitions," said the prince, " I will promise you safety: there is no danger from the dead ; he that is once buried will be seen_no more." -- *Pffatthe dead are 'seen no more,*-Said Imlac, I will not undertake to maintain against the concurrent and unva- ried testimony of all ages and of all nations. There is no people, rude or learned, among whom apparitions of the dead are not related and believed. This opinion, which, agreed in a tale which nothing but experience can make credible. That it is doubted by single cavillers can very little weaken the general evidence , and some who deny it with their tongues confess it by their fears. " Yet I do not mean to add new terrors to those which have already seized upon Pekuah. There can be no reason why spectres should haunt the pyramid more than other places, or why they should have power or will to hurt innocence and purity. Our entrance is no violation of their privileges ; we can take nothing from them ; how then can we offend them ?" " My dear Pekuah," said the princess, " I will always go before you, and Imlac shall follow you. Remember that you are the companion of the princess of Abissinia ?" " If the princess is pleased that her servant should die, 11 returned the lady, " let her command some death less dread- ful than inclosure in this horrid cavern. You know I dare RASSELAS. 59 not disobey you ; I must go if you command me ; but, if 1 once enter, I never shall come back." The princess saw that her fear was too strong for expostu- lation or reproof, and, embracing her, told her that she should stay in the tent till their return. Pekuah was not yet satis- fied, but entreated the princess not to pursue so dreadful a purpose as that of entering the recesses of the pyramids. " Though I cannot teach courage," said Nekayah, "I must not l^arn cowardice ; nor leave at last undone what I came hither only to do." CHAP. XXXII. They enter the Pyramid. descended to the tents, and the rest entered the o te ouner s suppose o ave een reposte. ey then sat down in one of the most spacious chambers to rest awhile, before they attempted to return. "We have now," said Imlac, "gratified our minds with an exact view of the greatest work of man, except the wall of China. " Of the wall, it is very easy to assign the motive. It se- cured a wealthy and timorous nation from the incursions of TTIIW iiw.ii uniiv, iw ...m_, t"./tu vu 111 upon the inhabitants of pea ful commerce, as vultures descend upon domestic fowl. Their celerity and fierceness made the wall necessary, and their ignorance made it efficacious. " But for the pyramids, no reason has ever been given, adequate to the cost and labor of the work. The narrowrif ^y of the chambers proves that it could afford no retreat f > enemies, and treasures might have been reposited at far less expense with equal security. ^It sterns to have been erected oniyin compliance with that nunuti uf imagination which preys mlin^sanLl\ruporrri!e r and must be always~appfiasHH fry wine employment. Those who have already all that they can enjoy, must enlarge their desires, {Jf ^ft! ha.s built for use 4J.U use is supplied, must begin to buIM for_yjajuj.y , and extend ms plaT^to tneutmosrpower Tfl human performance, thaTRe may not "Be soon recfacen 10 lor^n anotner wish. " I consider this mighty structure as a monument of the 60 RASSELAS. insufficiency of human enjoyments. A king, whose power is unlimited, and whose treasures surmount all real and ima- ginary wants, is compelled to solace, by the erection of a pyra- mid, the satiety of dominion and tastelessness of pleasures, and to amuse the tediousness of declining life, by seeing thou- sands laboring without end, and one stone, for no purpose, laid upon another. Whoever thou art, that, not content with a moderate condition, imaginest happiness in royal magnifi- cence, and dreamest that command or riches can feed the appetite of novelty with perpetual gratifications, survey the pyramids, and confess thy folly !" CHAP. XXXIII. The Princess meets with an Unexpected Misfortune. THEY rose up, and returned through the cavity at which they had entered ; and the princess prepared for her favorite a long narrative of dark labyrinths and costly rooms, and of the different impressions which the varieties of the way had made upon her. But when they carne to their train, they found every one silent and dejected : the men discovered shame and fear in their countenances, and the women were weeping in their tents. What had happened they did not try to conjecture, but im- mediately inquired. " You had scarcely entered into the pyra- mid," said one of the attendants, " when a troop of Arabs rushed upon us : we were too few to resist them, and too slow to escape. They were about, to search the tents, set us on our camels, and drive us along before them, when the ap- proach of some Turkish horsemen put them to flight : but they seized the lady Pekuah with her two maids, and carried them away : the Turks are now pursuing them by our insti- gation, but I fear they will not be able to overtake them." The princess was overpowered with surprise and grief. Rasselas, in the first heat of his resentment, ordered his ser- vants to follow him, and prepared to pursue the robbers with his sabre in his hand. " Sir," said Imlac, " what can you hope from violence or valor? the Arabs are mounted on horses trained to battle and retreat ; we have only beasts of burden. By leaving our present station we may lose the princess, but cannot hope to regain Pekuah." In a short time the Turks returned, having not been able to reach the enemy. The princess burst out into new lamen- tations, and Rasselas could scarcely forbear to reproach them RASSELAS. 61 with cowardice; but Imlac was of opinion, that the escape of the Arabs was no addition to their misfortune, for, perhaps, they would have killed their captives rather than have resigned them. CHAP. XXXIV. They return to Cairo without Pekuah. THERE was nothing to be hoped from longer stay. They returned to Cairo, repenting of their curiosity, censuring the negligence of the government, lamenting their own rashness, which had neglected to procure a guard, imagining many expedients by which the loss of Pekuah might have been prevented, and resolving to do something for her recovery, though none could find any thing proper to be done. Nekayah retired to her chamber, where her women at- tempted to comfort her, by telling her that all had their trou- bles, and that lady Pekuah had enjoyed much happiness in the world for a long time, and might reasonably expect a change of fortune. They hoped that some good would be- fall her wheresoever she was, and that their mistress would find another friend, who might supply her place. The princess made them no answer ; and they continued the form of condolence, not much grieved in their hearts that the favorite was lost. Next day the prince presented to the Bassa a memorial of the wrong which he had suffered, and a petition for redress. The Bassa threatened to punish the robbers, but did not at- tempt to catch them ; nor indeed could any account or de- scription be given by which he might direct the pursuit. It soon appeared that nothing would be done by authority. Governors being accustomed to hear of more crimes than they can punish, and more wrongs than they can redress, set themselves at ease by indiscriminate negligence, and pre- sently forget tne request when they lose sight of the peti- tioner. Imlac then endeavored to gain some intelligence by pri- vate agents. He found many who pretended to an exact knowledge of all the haunts of the Arabs, and to regular correspondence with their chiefs, and who readily undertook the recovery of Pekuah. Of these, some were furnished ivith money for their journey, and came back no more ; gome were liberally paid for accounts which a few days dis- jovered to be false. But the princess would not suffer any .means, however improbable, to be left untried. While she 62 RASSELAS. vas doing something, she kept her hope alive. As one ex- pedient failed, another was suggested ; when one messenger eturned unsuccessful, another was despatched to a different quarter. Two months had now passed, and of Pekuah nothing had been heard ; the hopes which they had endeavored to raise in each other grew more languid ; and the princess, when she saw nothing more to be tried, sunk down inconsolable in hopeless dejection. A thousand times she reproached her- self with the easy compliance by which she permitted her favorite to stay behind her. " Had not my fondness," said she, " lessened my authority, Pekuah had not dared to talk of her terrors. She ought to have feared me more than spectres. A severe look would have overpowered her ; a peremptory command would have compelled obedience. Why did foolish indulgence prevail upon me ? why did I not speak, and refuse to hear '.'" "Great princess," said Imlac, " do not reproach yourself for your virtue, or consider that as blameable by wnich evil has accidentally been caused. Your tenderness for the timidity of Pekuah was generous and kind. When we act according to our duty, we commit the event to Him by whose laws our actions are governed, and who will suffer none to be finally punished for obedience. When, in prospect of- some good, whether natural or moral, we break the rules prescribed us, we withdraw from the direction of superior wisdom, and take all consequences upon ourselves. |Man cannot so far know the connexion of causes and events, as that he may venture to do wrong in order to do right.^When we pursue our end by .awful means, we may always console our miscarriage by the hope of future recompense. When we consult only our own policy, and attempt to find a nearer way to good, by overleaping the settled boundaries of right and wrong, we cannot be happy even by success, because we cannot escape the consciousness of our fault; but if we miscarry, the disappointment is irremediably imbittered. IJHow comfortless is the sorrow of him who feels at once the .ngs of guilt, and the vexation of calamity which guilt has nought upon hirnJ^y " Consider, prmcess, what would have been your condi tion, if the lady Pekuah had entreated to accompany you, and, being compelled to stay in the tents, had been carried away ; or how would you have borne the thought if you had RASSELAS. 63 forced her into the pyramid, and she had died before you in agonies of terror." " Had either happened," said Nekayah, " I could not have endured life till now ; I should have been tortured to madness by the remembrance of such cruelty, or must have pined away in abhorrence of myself." " This, at least," said Imlac, " is the present reward of virtuous conduct, that no unlucky consequence can oblige us to repent it." CHAP. XXXV. The Princess languishes for want of Pekuah. NEKAYAH, being thus reconciled to herself, found that no " evil is insupportable but that which is accompanied with con- scious nes~5"of~ wrong. She was, from that time, delivered from the violence of tempestuous sorrow, and sunk into silent pensiveness and gloomy tranquillity. She sat from morning to evening recollecting all that had been done or said by her Pekuah, treasured up with care every trifle on which Pekuah had sat an accidental value, and which might recall to mind any little incident or careless conversation. The sentiments of her whom she now expected to see no more, were treasured in her memory as rules of life, and %he deliberated to no other end than to conjecture on any occasion what would have been the opinion and counsel oi Pekuah. The women by whom she was attended knew nothing of her real condition, and therefore she could not talk to them but with caution and reserve. She began to remit her curi- osity, having no great desire to collect notions which she had no convenience of uttering. Rasselas endeavored first to comfort and afterwards to divert her ; he hired musicians, to whom she seemed to listen, but did not hear them ; and pro- cured masters to instruct her in various arts, whose lectures, when they visited her again, were again to be repeated. She - had lost her taste of pleasure, and her ambition of excel- lence. And her rnind, though forced into short excursions, always recurred to the image of her friend. Imlac was every morning earnestly enjoined to renew his inquiries , and was asked every night whether he had yet heard of Pekuah ; till, not being able to return the princess the an- swer that she desired, he was less and less willing to come into her presence. She observed his backwardness, and commanded him to attend her. " You are not," said she, 64 RASSKLAS. " to confound impatience with resentment, or to suppose that I charge you with negligence, because I repine at your un- successfulness. 1 do not much wonder at your absence. I know that the unhappy are never pleasing, and that all natu- rally avoid the contagion of misery. To hear complaints ii, wearisome, alike to the wretched and the happy ; for who would cloud, by adventitious grief, the short gleams of gaye- ty which life allows us ? or who, that is struggling under his own evils, will add to them the miseries of another? " The time is at hand, when none shall be disturbed any longer by the sighs of Nekayah : my search after happiness is now at an end. I am resolved to retire from the world with all its flatteries and deceits, and will hide myself in soli- tude, without any other care than to compose my thoughts, and regulate my hours by a constant succession of innocent j occupations, till, with a mind purified from earthly desires, I shall enter into that state, to which all are hastening, and in which I hope again to enjoy the friendship of Pekuah." " Do not entangle your mind," said Imlac, " by irrevoca- ble determinations, nor increase the burden of life by a vo- luntary accumulation of misery; the weariness of retire- ment will continue or increase when the loss of Pekuah is forgotten. ^That you have been deprived of one pleasure is no very good reason for rejection of the rest."\ " Since Pekuah was taken from me," said the princess, " I have no pleasure to reject or to retain. She tbftt-hasjvo *fp> toJpyp or trust, has littleto hope. She wants the radi- cal principle of happiness. We may, perhaps, allow that what satisfaction this world can afford must arise from the conjunction of wealth, knowledge, and goodm nothing but as liti&JieaiJlwjSi, and knowJedVfi. ner, and goodness may bo practised in retiremelW." " How far solitude may admit goodness, or advance it, I shall not," replied Imlac, " dispute at present. Remember the confession of the pious hermit. You will wish to return into the world when the image of your companion has left your thoughts." " That time," said Nekayah, " will never come. The generous frankness, the modest obsequiousness, and the faithful secrecy of my dear Pekuah, will always be more missed, as I shall live longer to see vice and folly." " The state of a mind oppressed with a sudden calamity," said Imlac, " is like that of the fabulous inhabitants of the RASSELAS. 65 new-created earth, who, when the first night came upon them, supposed that day would never return. When the clouds oif sorrow gather over us, we see nothing beyond them, nor can imagine how they will be dispelled : yet a new day succeed- ed to the night, and sorrow, is never long witH 1 ! p *" <- ease. But they who restrain themselves from receiving com- \/^C tort do as the savages would have done, had they put out / *"V\ i)T" their eyes when it was dark. (Our minds, like our bodies, are in continual flux : something is*hourly lost, and something acquired^ To lose much at once is inconvenient to either, ^ but whiHfme vit^ powers remain uninjured, nature will find the means of reparation. Distance has the same effect on the mind as on the eye ; and while we glide along the stream of time, whatever we leave behind us is always lessening, and that which we approach increasing in magnitude. Do not suffer life to stagnate ; it will grow muddy for want of motion ; commit yourself again to the current of the world ; Pekuah will vanish by degrees ; you will meet in your way some other favorite, or learn to diffuse yourself in genera; conversation." "At least," said the prince, " do not despair before all re- medies have been tried : the inquiry after the unfortunate lady is still continued, and shall be carried on with yet great er diligence, on condition that you will promise to wait ayeai for the event, without any unalterable resolution." Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise to her brother, who had been advised by Imlac to re- quire it. Imlac had, indeed, no great hope of regaining Pe- kuah ; but he supposed, that if he could secure the interval of a year, the princess would be then in no danger of a clois- ter. CHAP. XXXVI. Pekuah is still remembered. The Progress of Sorrow. NEKAYAH, seeing that nothing was omitted for the reco- very of her favorite, and having, by her promise, set her in- tention of retirement at a distance, began imperceptibly to return to comrnon cares and common pleasures. She rejoic- ed without her own consent at (he suspension of her sorrows, and sometimes caught herself with indignation in the act of turning away her mind from the remembrance of her whom yet she resolved never to forget. She then appointed a certain hour of the day for medita- tion on the merits and fondness of Pekuah, and for some 3 60 RASSELAS. weeks retired constantly at the time fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen and her countenance clouded. By degrees she grew less scrupulous, and suffered any important and pressing avocation to delay the tribute of daily tears. She then yielded to less occasions ; sometimes forgot what she was indeed afraid to remember ; and, at last, wholly released herself from the duty of periodical affliction. Her real love of Pekuah was not yet diminished. A thou- sand occurrences brought her back to memory, and a thou- sand wants, which nothing but the confidence of friendship can supply, made her frequently regretted. f She, therefore r solicited Imlac never to desist from inquiry, and to leave nc art of intelligence untried, that at least she might have the comfort of knowing that she did not suffer by negligence or sluggishness. " Yet what," said she, " is to be expected from our pursuit of happiness, when we find the state of life to be such that happiness itself is the cause of misery ? Why should we endeavor to attain that of which the possessior cannot be secured? I shall henceforward fear to yield my heart to excellence, however bright, or to fondness, howevei tender, lest I should lose again what L-have lost in Pekuah." CHAP. XXXVII. The Princess hears news of Pekuah. IN seven months, one of the messengers, who had been sent away upon the day when the promise was drawn from the princess, returned, after many unsuccessful rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with an account that Pekuah \ X hands of an Arab Qhief, who possessed a castle or tortress on the extremity ol' Egypt. The Arab, whose revenue was plunder, was willing to restOfiher, with her two attendants, for two hundred ounces of gold. he price"Was no subject of debate. The princess was in ecstasies when she heard that her favorite was alive, and might so cheaply be ransomed. She could not think of de- laying for a moment Pekuah's happiness or her own, but en- treated her brother to send back the messenger with the sum required. Imlac, being consulted, was not very confident of the veracity of the relater, and was still more doubtful of the Arab's faith, who might, if he were too liberallv trusted, de- tain at once the money and the captives. He thought it d;m- ge ous to put themselves m the power of the Arab, by goii; RASSELAS. into b-is district ; and could not expect that the rover would so rouch expose himself as to come into the lower country, where he might be seized by the forces of the Bassa. It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust. But f - Rasselas was desirous to go with them; but neither his sister nor Imiac would consent. The Arab, according to the custom of his nation, observed the laws of hospitality with great exact- ness to those who put themselves into his power, and, in a few all danger of robbery or violence. The princess and her favorite embraced each other with transport too violent to be expressed, and went out together to pour the tears of tenderness in secret, and exchange pro- fessions of kindness and gratitude. After a few hours they returned into the refectory of the convent, where, in the pre- sence of the prior and his brethren, the prince required of Pekuah the history of her adventures. CHAP. XXXVIII. The Adventures of the Lady Pekuah. "AT; what time, and in what manner I was forced away," said Pekuah, " your servants have told you. The sudden- ness of the event struck me with surprise, and I was at first rather stupified than agitated with any passion of either fear or sorrow. My confusion was increased by the speed and tumult of our flight, while we were followed by the Turks, who, as it seemed, soon despaired to overtake us, or were afraid of those whom they made a show of menacing. " WJien the Arabs saw themselves out. of danger, they, slackened their course ; and as I was less harassed by exter- nal violence, 1 began to feel more uneawness in my mind. After some time, we stopped near a spring shaded with trees, 63 RASSKLAS. in a pleasant meadow, where we sat upon the ground, and were offered such refreshments as our masters were partak- ing. I was suffered to sit with my maids apart from the rest, and none attempted to comfort or insult us. Here I first be- gan to feel the full weight of my misery. The girls sat weep- ing in silence, and from time to time looked on me for succor. I knew not to what condition we were doomed, nor could conjecture where would be the place of our captivity, or whence to draw any hope of deliverance. I was in the hands of robbers and savages, and had no reason to suppose that their pity was more than their justice, or that they would for- bear the gratification of any ardor of desire, or caprice of cru- elty. I, however, kissed my maids, and endeavored to pacify them by remarking, that we were yet treated with decency, and that since we were now carried beyond pursuit, there was no danger of violence to our lives. " When we were to be set again on horseback, my maids clung round me, and refused to be parted ; but I commanded them not to irritate those who had us in their power. We travelled the remaining part of the day through an u-nfre- quented and pathless country, and came by moonlight to the side of the hill where the rest of the troop was stationed. Their tents were pitched, and their fires kindled, and our chief was welcomed as a man much beloved by his de- pendants. " We were received into a large tent, where we found wo- men who had attended their husbands in tne expedition. They set before us the supper which thty had provided, and I ate k rather to encourage my maids than to comply with any ap- petite of my own. When the meat was taken away, they spread the carpets for repose. I was weary, and hoped to find in sleep that remission of distress which nature seldom denies. Ordering myself, therefore, to be undressed, I ob- served that the women looked very earnestly upon me, not expecting,- 1 suppose, to see me so submissively attended. When my upper vest was taken off, they were apparently struck with the splendor of my clothes, and one of them timo- rously laid her hand upon the embroidery. She then went out, and, in a short time, came back with another woman, who seemed to be of higher rank and greater authority. She did, at her entrance, the usual act of reverence, and, taking me by the hand, placed me in a smaller tent, spread with finer car- pets, where I spent the night quietly with my maids. " fn the mo.ning, as I was sitting on the grass, the chief of the troop came towards me. I rose up to receive him, and RASSELAS. 69 he bowed with great respect. ' Illustrious lady,' said he, * my fortune is better than I had presumed to hope ; I am told, by my women, that I have a princess in my camp.' Sir, an- swered I, your women have deceived themselves and you ; I am not a princess, but an unhappy stranger, who intended oon to have left this country, in which I am now to be impri- soned for ever. ' Whoever, or whencesoever, you are,' re- turned the Arab, ' your dress, and that of your servants, show your rank to be high, and your wealth to be great. Why should you, who can so easily procure your ransom, think yourself in danger of perpetual captivity? The purpose oi ray incursions is to increase my riches, or more properly to gather tribute. The sons of Ishmael are the natural and he- reditary lords of this part of the continent, which is usurped by late invaders and low-born tyrants, from whom we are compelled to take by the sword what is denied to justice. The violence of war admits no distinction ; the lance that is lifted at guilt and power will sometimes fall on innocence and gentleness.' " How little, said I, did I expect that yesterday it should have fallen upon me. " ' Misfortunes,' answered the Arab, * should always be expected. If the eye of hostility could learn reverence or pity, excellence like yours had been exempt from injury. But the angels of affliction spread their toils alike for the virtuous and the wicked, for the mighty and the mean. Do not be disconsolate ; I am not one of the lawless and^ruel rovers of the desert ; I know the rules of civil life ^l will fix your ransom, give a passport to your messenger, and per- form my stipulation with nice punctuality^ " You will easily believe that I was pleased with his cour- tesy ; and finding that his predominant passion was desire of money, I began now to think my danger less ; for I knew that no sum would be thought too great for the release of Pe- Kuah. I told him that he should have no reason to charge me with ingratitude, if I was used with kindness , and that any ransom which could be expected for a maid of common rank would be paid, but that he must not persist to rate me as a princess. He said he would consider what he should de- mand, and then, smiling, bowed and retired. " Soon after, the women came about me, each contending to be more officious than the other, and my maids themselves were served with reverence. We travelled onward by short journeys. On the fourth day, the chief told me that myjan* som must be two hundred ounces of gold ; which I not only 70 RASSELAS. promised him, but told him that I would add fifty more, if 1 knd my maids were honorably treated. t / " I never knew the power of gold before/ From that time T was the leader of the troop. The march of every day was longer or shorter as I commanded, and the tents were pitched where I chose to rest. We now had camels and other con- veniences for travel : my own women were always at my side, and I amused myself with observing the manners of the va- grant nations, and with viewing remains of ancient edifices with which these deserted countries appear to have been, in some distant age, lavishly embellished. " The chief of the band was a man far from illiterate : he was able to travel -bjLjhe stars or_jhfi_coinpass, and had marked in his erratic expeditions such places as are most worthy the notice of a passenger. He observed to me, that buildings are always best preserved in places little frequented, and difficult of access 4f* round, and see wKat I remember to have seen in happier days. I rest against a tree, and consider, that in the same shade I once disputed upon the annual overflow of the Nile with a friend who is now silent in the grave. I cast my eyes up- wards, fix them on the changing moon, and think with pain on the vicissitudes of life. I have ceased to take much de- light in physical truth ; for what have I to do with those things which I am soon to leave ? M " You may at least recreate yourself," said Imlac, " with the recollection of an honorable and useful life, and enjoy the praise which all agree to give you." " Praise," said the sage, with a sigh, " is to an old man an empty sound. I have neither mother to be delighted with the reputation of her son, nor wife to partake the honors ol her husband. I have outlived my friends and my rivals. Nothing is now of much importance ; for I cannot extend my interest beyond myself. Youth is delighted withapplause ^jMBcagse it isconsidered as tttcTearnest of some fulur^gbod, 82 KASSELAS. and because the prospect of life is far extended : but to me, who am now declining to decrepitude, there is little to be feared from the malevolence of men, and yet less to be hoped from their affection or esteem. Something they may yet take away, but they can give me nothing. Riches would now be useless, and high employment would be pain. My retrospect of life recalls to my view many opportunities of good neglected, much time squandered upon trifles, and more ;ost in idleness and vacancy. I leave many great designs unattempted, and many great attempts unfinished. My mind is burdened with no heavy crime, and therefore I compose myself to tranquillity ; endeavor to abstract my thoughts from hopes and cares, which, though reason knows them to ae vain, still try to keep their old possession of the heart ; ex- pect, with serene humility, that hour which nature cannot long delay, and hope to possess, in a better state, that hap- piness which here I could not find, and that virtue which here i have not attained." ^ He arose and went away, leaving his audience not much elated with the hope of long life. The prince consoled him- self with remarking, that it was not reasonable to be disap- pointed by this account ; for age had never been considered as the season of felicity, and, if it was possible to be easy in decline and weakness, it was likely that the days of vigor and alacrity might be happy : that the noon of life might be Dright, if the evening could be calm. The princess suspected that age was querulous and ma- Lgnant, and delighted to repress the expectations of those wno had newly entered the world. She had seen the pos- sessors of estates look with envy on their heirs, and known many who enjoyed pleasure no longer than they could con- fine it to themselves. Pekuah conjectured that the man was older than he ap- peared, and was willing to impute his complaints to delirious dejection ; or else supposed mat he had been unfortunate, and was therefore discontented : " For nothing," said she, lf is more common than to call our own condition the condi- tion of life." Imlac, who had no desire to see them depressed, smiled at the comforts which they could so readily procure to them- selves ; and remembered, that at the same age he was equally confident of unmingled prosperity, and equally fertile of consolatory expedients. He forbore to force upon them unwelcome knowledge, which time itself would too soon im- press. The princess and her lady retired ; the madness of RASSELAS. 83 iho astronomer hung upon their minds; and they desired Imlac to enter upon his office, and delay next morning the rising of the sun. CHAP. XL VI. The Princess and Pekuah visit the Astronomer. THE princess and Pekuah having talked in private of Mac's astronomer, thought his character at once so amiable and so strange, that they could not be satisfied without a nearer knowledge; and Imlac was requested to find the means of bringing them together. This was somewhat difficult ; the philosopher had never received au^ viiJllM Irom wunibli^ though he lived in a city" that llad lli 11 llia.iij' Euiupeaus,^ho followed the manners of their*own countries, and many from other parts of the world, that lived there with European liberty. The ladies would not. be refused, and several schemes were proposed for the accomplishment of their design. It was proposed to intro- duce them as strangers in distress, to whom the sage was always accessible ; but, after some deliberation, it appeared, that by this artifice, no acquaintance could be formed, for their conversation would be short, and they could not de- cently importune him often. " This," said Rasselas, " is true : but I have yet a stronger objection against the mis- representation of your state. I have always considered it as treason against the great republic of human nature, to make any man's virtues the means of deceiving him, whe- ther on great or little occasions. All imposture weakens confidence, and chills benevolence. Wnen the sage tinds thatydu are not whaf you seemed, he will feel the resent- ment natural to a man who, conscious of great abilities, dis- covers that he has been tricked by understandings meaner than his own, and, perhaps, the distrust which he can never afterwards wholly lay aside may stop the voice of counsel, and close the hand of charity ; and where will you find the power of restoring his benefactions to mankind, or his peace to himself?" To this no reply was attempted, and Imlac began to hope that their curiosity would subside ; but, next day, Pekuah told him, she had now found anhonest pretence for a visit to the astronomer, for she would s* jici^ermissioiTto continue under him the studies jnjwhich ..shfiJiaQeeTTimtiated by the Arab^jincT the princess might go with her, eitherlDs a fellow- siudent, or because a woman could not decently come alone. 84 RASSELAS. " I am afraid," said Imlac, " that he will soon be weary ot your company ; men advanced far in knowledge do not love to repeat the elements of their art ; and I am not certain that even of the elements, as he will deliver them connected with inferences and mingled with reflections, you are a very ca'pable auditress." < : That," said Pekuah, " must be my care : I ask of you only to take me thither. My knowledge is, perhaps, more than you imagine it ; and by concurring always with his opinions, 1 shall make him think it greater than it is." The astronomer, in pursuance of this resolution, was told that a foreign lady, travelling in search of knowledge, had heard of his reputation, and was desirous to become his scholar. The uncommonness of the proposal raised at once his surprise and curiosity, and when, after a short delibera- tion, he consented to admit her, he could not stay without impatience till the next day. The ladies dressed themselves magnificently, and were attended by Imlac to the astronomer, who was pleased to see himself approached with respect by persons of so splen- did an appearance. In the exchange of the first civilities, he was timorous and bashful ; but when the talk became re- gular, he recollected his powers, and justified the character which Imlac had given. Inquiring of Pekuah what could have turned her inclination towards astronomy, he received from her a history of her adventure at the pyramid, and of the time passed in the Arab's island. She told her tale with ease and elegance, and her conversation took possession oi his heart. The discourse was then turned to astronomy : Pekuah displayed what she knew : he looked upon her as a prodigy of genius, and entreated her not to desist from a study which she had so happily begun, They came again and again, and were every time more welcome than before. The sage endeavored to amuse them, that they might prolong their visits, for he found his thoughts grow brighter in their company ; the clouds of solicitude vanished by degrees, as he forced himself to entertain them, and he grieved when he was left, at their departure, to his old employment of regulating the seasons. The princess and her favorite had now watched his lips for several months, and could not catch a single word from which they could judge whether he continued, or not, in the opinion of his preternatural commission. They often con trived to bring him to an open declaration ; but he easily RASSELAS. 85 eluded all their attacks, and, on which side soever they pressed him, escaped from them to some other topic. As their familiarity increased, they invited him often to the house of Imlac, where they distinguished him by extra- ordinary respect. He began gradually to delight in sublu- nary pleasures. He came early, and departed late ; labored to recommend himself by assiduity and compliance, excited their curiosity after new arts, that they might still want his assistance ; and when they made any excursion of pleasure or inquiry, entreated to attend them. By long experience of his integrity and wisdom, the prince and nis sister were convinced that he might be trusted without danger : and, lest he should draw any false hopes from the civilities which he received, discovered to him their condition, with the motives of their journey, and required his opinion on the choice of life. " Of the various conditions which the world spreads before you, which you shall prefer," said the sage, "I am not able to instruct you. I can only tell that I have chosen wrong. I have passed my time in study without experience : in the attainment of sciences which can, for the most part, be but remotely useful to mankind. I have purchased knowledge at the expense of all the common comforts of life : I have missed the endearing elegance of female friendship, and the happy commerce 01 domestic tenderness. If I have obtained any prerogatives above other students, they have been accompa- nied with fear, disquiet, and scrupulosity ; but even of these prerogatives, whatever the^ were, I have, since my thoughts have been diversified by more intercourse with the world, be- gun to question the reality. When I have been for a few days lost in pleasing dissipation, I am always tempted to think that my inquiries have ended in error, and that I have suffer- ed much, and suffered it in vain." Imlac was delighted to find that the sage's understanding was breaking through its mists, and resolved to detain him from the planets till he should forget his task of ruling them, and reason should recover its original influence. From this time the astronomer was received into familiar friendship, and partook of all their projects and pleasures : his respect kept him attentive, and the activity of Rasselas did not leave much time unengaged. Something was always to be done : the day was spent in making observations, which furnished talk for the evening, and the evening was closed with a scheme for the morrow. The sage confessed to Imlac, that since he had mingled in 86 RASSELAS. the gay tumults of life, and divided his hours by a succession of amusements, he found the conviction of his authority over the skies fade gradually from his mind, and began to trust less to an opinion which he never could prove to others, and which he now found subject to variation, from causes in which rea- son had no part. " If I am accidentally left alone for a few hours," said he, " my inveterate persuasion rushes upon my soul, and my thoughts are chained down by some irresistible violence ; but they are soon disentangled by the prince's con- versation, and instantaneously released at the entrance of Pekuah. I am like a man habitually afraid of spectres, who is set at ease by a lamp, and wonders at the dread which harassed him in the dark, yet, if his lamp be extinguished, feels again the terrors which he knows that when it is light he shall feel no more. But I am sometimes afraid, lest I indulge my quiet by criminal negligence, and voluntarily forget the great charge with which I am intrusted. If I favor myself in a known error, or am determined by my own ease in a doubtful question of this importance, how dreadful is my crime !" "No disease of the imagination," answered Imlac, " is so difficult of cure, as that which is complicated with the dread of guilt; fancy and conscience then act interchangeably upon us, and so often shift their places, that the illusions of one are not distinguished from the dictates of the other. If fancy presents images not moral or religious, the mind drives them away when they give it pain ; but when melancholy notions take the fftrm nf rkityj theylay Hold on the faculties without ^opposition, because we are afraid to exclude or banisJLlbSn. "TP'or this reason the superstifioil^rft ffrten melancholy, and the melancholy almost always superstitious. " But do not let the suggestions of timidity overpower your better reason : the danger of neglect can be but as the proba- bility of the obligation, which, when you consider it with free- dom, you find very little, and that little growing every day less. Open your heart to the influence of the light, which, from time to time, breaks in upon you : when scruples im- portune you, which you in your lucid moments know to be vain, do not stand to parley, but fly to business, or to Pekuah ; and keep this thought always prevalent, that you are only one atom of the mass of humanity, and have neither such virtue nor vice as that you should be singled out for supernatura. favors or afflictions." RASSELAS. 87 CHAP. XL VII. The Prince enters and brings a new Topic. " ALL this," said the astronomer, " I have often thought but my reason has been so long subjugated by an uncontrol- iable and overwhelming idea, that it durst not confide in its own decisions. I now see how fatally I betrayed my quiet, by suffering chimeras to prey upon me in secret ; but melan- choly shrinks from communication, and I never found a man before to whom I could impart my troubles, though I had been certain of relief. I rejoice to find my own sentiments confirmed by yours, who are not easily deceived, and can have no motive or purpose to deceive. I hope that time and variety will dissipate the gloom that has so long surrounded aie, and the latter part of my days will be spent in peace," " Your learning and virtue," said Imlac, " may justly giro you hopes." Rasselas then entered, with the princess and Pekuah, and inquired whether they had contrived any new diversion for the next day. " Such," said Nekayah, " is the state of life, that none are happy but^bythe anticipation of change : the ^ changertself is nothing ;wn en we "have made it. the next -^lfristo cfiange again^, The world is not yet~exhaustecT; let me see something to-morrow which I never saw before." " ~\ariety," said Rasselas, " is so necessary to content, that even tne happy valley disgusted me by the recurrence ot " its luxuries ; yet I could not forbear to reproach myself with impatience, when I saw the monks of St. Anthony support, without complaint, a life, not of uniform delight, but uniform hardship." " Those men," answered Imlac, "are less wretched in their silent convent than the Abissinian princes in their pri- son of pleasure. Whatever is done by the mon'-s is incited Oy an adequate and reasonable motive. Their labor supplies them with necessaries ; it therefore cannot be omitted, and is certainly rewarded. Their devotion prepares them for ano- ther state, and reminds them of its approach, while it fits them for it. Their time is regularly distributed ; one duty succeeds another ; so that they are not left open to the distraction of unguided choice, nor lost in the shades of listless inactivity. There is a certain task to be performed at an appropriated 88 RASSELAS. nour; and their toils are cheerful, because they consider them as acts of piety, by which they are always advancing towards endless felicity." 4 'Do you think," said Nekayah, "that the monastic rule is a more holy and less imperfect state than any other? May not he equally hope for future happiness who converses open- ly with mankind, who succors the distressed by his charity, instructs the ignorant by his learning, and contributes by his industry to the general system of life ; even though he should omit some of the mortifications which are practised in the cloister, and allow himself such harmless delights, as his con dition may place within his reach ?" " This," said Imlac, " is a question which has long divided the wise, and perplexed the good. I am afraid to decide on either part^He that lives well in the world is better than he that lives well in a monastery^ But, perhaps, every one is not able to stem the temptations of public life ; and, if he can- not conquer, he may properly retreat. Some have liifle power to do good, ancl have likewise little strength to resist evil. Many are weary of their conflicts with adversity, and are willing to eject those passions which have long busied them in vain. And many are dismissed by age and diseases from the more laborious duties of society. In monasteries the weak and timorous may be happily sheltered, the weary may repose, and the penitent may meditate. Those retreats of prayer and contemplation have something so congenial to the mind of man, that, perhaps, there is scarcely one that does not purpose to close his life in pious abstraction, with a few associates serious as himself." " Such," said Pekuah, " has often been my wish ; and I have heard the princess declare, that she should not willingly die in a crowd. " The liberty of using harmless pleasures," proceeded Im- lac, " will not be disputed; but it is still to be examined what pleasures are harmless. The evil of any pleasure that Ne- kayah can image is not in the act itself, but in its conse- quences. Pleasure, in itself harmless, may become mischiev- ous, by endearing to us a state which we know to be transient and probatory, and withdrawing our thoughts from that, of which every hour brings us nearer to the beginning, and of which no length of time will bring us to the end. Mortifica- tion is not virtuous in itself, nor has any other use, but that it disengages us from the allurements of sense. In the state of future perfection, to which we all aspire, there will be plea- sure without danger, and security without restraint." RASSELAS. gf) The princess was silent, and Rasselas, turning to the as- fronomer, asked him whether he could not delay her retreat, iy showing her something which she had not seen before. " Your curiosity," said the sage, "has been so general, and your pursuit of knowledge so vigorous, that novelties are not now very easily to be found : but what you can no longer procure from the living may be given by the dead. Among * m ttowmenders of this connf f ry an? the r.qjacombg. or the ancient jreppsitorifi^ in which the bodies of the earliest generations we're lodged, and where, by the virtue of the gums which em- balmed them, they yet remain without corruption." " I know not," said Rasselas, " what pleasure the sight of the catacombs can afford ; but, since nothing else is offered, I am resolved to view them, and shall place this with many other things which I have done, because I would do some- thing." They hired a guard of horsemen, and the next day visited the catacombs. When they were about to descend into the sepulchral caves, " Pekuah," said the princess, " we are now again invading the habitations of the dead, I know that you will stay behind ; let me find you safe when I return." " No, I will not be left," answered Pekuah : " I will go down be- tween you and the prince." They then all descended, and roved with wonder through the labyrinth of subterraneous passages, where the bodies were laid in rows on either side. CHAP. XLVJII. Imlac discourses on the Nature of the Soul. " WHAT reason," said the prince, " can be given, why the Egyptians should thus expensively preserve those carcasses which some nations consume with fire, others lay to* mingle with the earth, and all agree to remove from their sight as soon as decent rites can be performed ?" " Xhe original of ancient customs," said Imlac, " is com- jnonlJlUIlknown i foiTthe practiclToften continues when the cause has ceased : and concerning superstitious ceremonies, it is vain to conjecture ; for_juzlkt. .reason did not dictate, reason cannot explain. I 'nave long believed that the prac- ticg-Qi^fimffrtilli'Miu ijfjEse only from tenderness to the remains of relations or friends ; and to this opinion I am more inclined , because it seems impossible that this care should have been general; had all the dead been embalmed, their repositories must in time have been more spacious than the dwellings of 90 RASSELAS the living. I jaipiK)se only the rich or honorable were se- cured from corruptiofr, and the rest let't to the courseof na- thti'u. "-*HBut it is commonly supposed that the Egyptians believed the soul to live as long as the body continued undissolved, and therefore tried this method of eluding death." "Could the wise Egyptians," said Nekayah, "think so grossly of the soul ? If the soul could once survive its sepa- ration, what could it afterwards receive or suffer from the body ?" " The Egyptians would doubtless think erroneously," said the astronomer, " in the darkness of heathenism, and the first dawn of philosophy. The nature of the soul is still dis- puted, amidst all our opportunities of clearer knowledge: some yet say, that it may be material, who, nevertheless, believe it to be immortal. " Some," answered Imlac, " have indeed said that the soul is material, but I can scarcely believe that any man has thought it who knew how to think ; for all the conclusions ot reason enforce the immateriality of mind, and all the notices of sense and investigations of science concur to prove the un- consciousness of matter. " It was never supposed that cogitation is inherent in mat- tor, or that every particle is a thinking being. Yet if any part of matter be devoid of thought, what part can wfe sup-** pose to think ? IV^^ter, can diflk&Jrom matter only ifcTmynV density, bulk, motion, and direction of motion. To whicnof these, however varied or combined, can consciousness be an- nexed ? To be round or square, to be solid or fluid, to be great or little, to be moved slowly or swiftly, one way or an- other, are modes of material existence, all equally alien from the nature of cogitation. If matter be once without thought, it can only be made to think by some new modification ; but all the modifications which it can admit are equally uncon- nected with cogitative powers." " But the materialists," said the astronomer, " urge that matter may hi" Q ^["/^ it ifii : i Ht-h which, we are u < niM'iflff gi f fi f * " " He who will determine," returned Imlac, " against that which he knows, because there may be something which he knows not , he that can set hypothetical possibility against acknowledged certainty, is not to be admitted among reason- able beings. All that we know of matter is, that matter is inert, senseless, and lifeless ; and if this conviction cannot be opposed but by referring us to something that we know not, we have all the evidence that human intellect can admit. RASSELAS. 91 If that which is known may be overruled by that which is unknown, no being, not omniscient, can arrive at certainty." " Yet let us not," said the astronomer, " too arrogantly kimit the Creator's power." " It is no limitation of Omnipotence," replied the poet, " to suppose that one thing is r nt y n TK ls tPnt r' tjr ^ "*'"- J that the same propdsiriTffr cannot ne at once true and false, that the same number cannot be even and odd, that cogita- tion cannot be conferred on that which is created incapable of cogitation." " I know not," said Nekayah, " any great use of this question. Does that immateriality, which, in my opinion, you have sufficiently proved, necessarily include eternal duration?" " Of immateriality," said Imlac, " our ideas are negative, and therefore obscure. Immateriality seems to imply a na- tural power of perpetual duration as a consequence of ex- emption from all causes of decay : whatever perishes is destroyed by the solution of its contexture, and separation of its parts ; nor can we conceive how that which has no parts, and therefore admits no solution, can be naturally corrupted or impaired." * " I know not," said Rasselas, " how to conceive any thing without extension : what is extended must have parts, and you allow that whatever has parts may be destroyed." " Consider your own conceptions," replied Imlac, " and the difficulty will be less. You will find substance without extension. An ideal form is no less real than material bulk ; yet an ideal form has no extension. It is no less certain, when you think on a pyramid, that your mind possesses the idea of a pyramid, thaii that the pyramid itself is standing. What space does the idea of a pyramid occupy more than the idea of a grain of corn ? or how can either idea suffer laceration ? As is the effect, such is the cause ; as thought, such is the power that thinks, a power impassive and in- discerptible." " But the Being," said Nekayah, " whom I fear to name, the Being which made the soul, can destroy it." " He surely can destroy it," answered Tmlac, " since, however unperishable, it receives from a superior nature its power of duration. That it will not perish by any inherent cause of decay, or principle of corruption, may be shown by philosophy ; but philosophy can tell no more. That it will 92 RASSELAS. not be annihilated by Him that made it, we must humbly learn from higher authority." The whole assembly stood a while silent, and collected. " Let us return," said Rasselas, " from this scene of mor- tality. How gloomy would be those mansions of the dead to him who did not know that he should never die ; that what now acts shall continue its agency, and what now thinks shall think on for ever. Those that He here stretched before us, the wise and the powerful of ancient times, warn us to remember the shortness of our present state : they were, perhaps, snatched away while they were busy, like us, in tne choice of life." " To me," said the princess, " the choice of life is become less important ; I hope hereafter to think only on the choice of eternity." They then hastened out of the caverns, and, under the protection of their guard, returned to Cairo. CHAP. XLIX. The Conclusion, in which nothing is concluded. IT was now the time of the inundation of the Nile : a few, days after their visit to the catacombs the river began to riseT They were confined to their house. /The whole region being under water, gave them no invitation to any excur- sions ; and being well supplied with materials for talk, they diverted themselves with comparisons of the different forms of life which they had observed, and with various schemes of happiness which each of them had formed. Pekuah was never so much charmed with any place as the convent of St. Anthony-, where the !A.rab restored her to the princess, and wished only to fill it with pious maidens, and to be made prioress of the order : she was weary of ex- pectation and disgust, and would gladly be fixed in some un variable state. The princess thought, that, of all sublunary things, know- ledge was the best. She desired first to learn all sciences, ana then purposed to found a college of learned women, in which she would preside, that, by conversing with the old, and educating the young, she might divide her time between the acquisition and communication of wisdom, and raise up for the next age models of prudence and patterns of piety. The prince desired a little kingdom, in which he might administer justice in his own person, and see all the parts of "uvernment with his own eyes ; but he could never fix the RASSELAS. 93 iimits of his dominion, and was always adding to the number of his subjects. Tmlac and the astronomer were contented to be driven along the stream of life, without directing their course to any particular port. Of these wishes that they had formed, they well knew that none could be obtained. They deliberated a while what was to be done, and resolved, when the inundation should cease, to return to Abissinia. , 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on tjie date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall, REC'D LD rviv> fc^ Vna^ay nor O Fl*Cj1_"i nil OCT 2Db4-iPM ^MarwilT REC'D LD JUN 1 1 '65 -8 AN UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY