himself mistaken, yet he may go thither without folly; he who thinks they will be more freely pardoned, dishonors at once his reason and religion."

"These," said the prince, "are European distinctions. I will consider them another time. What have 5

you found to be the effect of knowledge? Are those nations happier than we?"

"There is so much infelicity," said the poet, "in the world, that scarce any man has leisure from his own distresses to estimate the comparative happiness 10 of others. Knowledge is certainly one of the means of pleasure, as is confessed by the natural desire which every mind feels of increasing its ideas. Ignorance is mere privation, by which nothing can be produced; it is a vacuity in which the soul sits motionless and 15 torpid for want of attraction, and, without knowing why, we always rejoice when we learn, and grieve when we forget. I am therefore inclined to conclude, that if nothing counteracts the natural consequence of learning, we grow more happy as our minds take a 20 wider range...

"In enumerating the particular comforts of life, we shall find many advantages on the side of the Europeans. They cure wounds and diseases with which we languish and perish. We suffer inclemencies of 25 weather which they can obviate. They have engines for the despatch of many laborious works, which we must perform by manual industry. There is such communication between distant places, that one friend can hardly be said to be absent from another. Their 30 policy removes all public inconveniences; they have roads cut through their mountains, and bridges laid

upon their rivers. And, if we descend to the privacies of life, their habitations are more commodious and their possessions are more secure."

"They are surely happy," said the prince, "who 5 have all these conveniences, of which I envy none so much as the facility with which separated frie:.

change their thoughts."

"The Europeans," answered Imlac, "are less unhappy than we, but they are not happy. Human life 10 is everywhere a state in which much is to be endured, and little to be enjoyed."

CHAPTER XII.

THE STORY OF IMLAC CONTINUED.

"I AM not yet willing," said the prince, "to sup15 pose that happiness is so parsimoniously distributed to mortals; nor can 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 resentment; I would relieve every distress and should enjoy 20 the benedictions of gratitude. I would choose my

friends among the wise and my wife among the virtuous, and therefore should be in no danger from treachery or unkindness. My children should by my care be learned and pious, and would repay to my age what their 25 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 quietly away in the soft reciprocation of protection and reverence? All this may be

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done without the help of European refinements, which appear by their effects to be rather specious than useful. Let us leave them and pursue our journey."

"From Palestine," said Imlac, "I passed through 5 many regions of Asia; in the more civilized kingdoms as a trader, and among the barbarians of the mountains as a pilgrim. At last I began to long for my native country, that I might repose after my travels and fatigues in the places where I had spent my earli-10 est years, and gladden my old companions with the recital of my adventures. Often did I figure to myself those with whom I had sported away the gay hours of dawning life, sitting round me in its evening, wondering at my tales and listening to my counsels.

15

"When this thought had taken possession of my mind, I considered every moment as wasted which did not bring me nearer to Abyssinia. I hastened into Egypt, and, notwithstanding my impatience, was detained ten months in the contemplation of its ancient 20 magnificence, and in inquiries after the remains of its ancient learning. I found in Cairo a mixture of all nations, some brought thither by the love of knowledge, some by the hope of gain, and many by the desire of living after their own manner without observa- 25 tion, and of lying hid in the obscurity of multitudes; for, in a city populous as Cairo, it is possible to obtain at the same time the gratifications of society and the secrecy of solitude:

"From Cairo I travelled to Suez, and embarked 30 on the Red Sea, passing along the coast till I arrived at the port from which I had departed twenty years

before. Here I joined myself to a caravan, and reentered my native country.

"I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen and the congratulations of my friends, and was not with5 out 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, Io having divided his wealth among my brothers, who were removed to some other provinces. Of my companions, the greater part was in the grave; of the rest, some could with difficulty remember me, and some considered me as one corrupted by foreign manners.

15

"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 admitted me to their tables, heard my story, and dismissed me. I opened a school, and was 20 prohibited to teach. I then resolved to sit down in the quiet of domestic life, and addressed a lady that was fond of my conversation, but rejected my suit because my father was a merchant.

"Wearied at last with solicitation and repulses, I 25 resolved to hide myself forever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion or caprice of others. I waited for the time when the gate of the happy valley should open, that I might bid farewell to hope and fear. The day came, my performance was distin30 guished 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 condition, or dost thou wish to be again wandering and inquiring? All the inhabitants of this valley celebrate their lot, and at the annual visit of the emperor invite others to partake of their felicity." 5 "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 com- 10 bine at pleasure. I can amuse my solitude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins to fade from my memory, and with the recollection of the accidents of my past life. Yet all this ends in the sorrowful consideration that my acquirements are now useless, 15 and that none of my pleasures can be again enjoyed. The rest, whose minds have no impression but of the present moment, are either corroded by malignant passions or sit stupid in the gloom of perpetual vacancy."

"What passions can infest those," said the prince, "who have no rivals? We are in a place where impotence precludes malice, and where all envy is repressed by community of enjoyments."

20

"There may be community," said Imlac, "of ma- 25 terial possessions, but there can never be community of love or of esteem. It must happen that one will please more than another; he that knows himself despised will always be envious, and still more envious and malevolent, if he is condemned to live in the 30 presence of those who despise him. The invitations. by which they allure others to a state which they feel