Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia
kind inviter a few days longer, and then went to find the hermit.
CHAPTER XXI
THE HAPPINESS OF SOLITUDE—THE HERMIT’S HISTORY.
THEY came on the third day, by the direction of the peasants, to the
hermit’s cell. It was a cavern in the side of a mountain, overshadowed
with palm trees, at such a distance from the cataract that nothing more
was heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as composes the mind to
pensive meditation, especially when it was assisted by the wind whistling
among the branches. The first rude essay of Nature had been so much
improved by human labour that the cave contained several apartments
appropriated to different uses, and often afforded lodging to travellers
whom darkness or tempests happened to overtake.
The hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness of the
evening. On one side lay a book with pens and paper; on the other
mechanical instruments of various kinds. As they approached him
unregarded, the Princess observed that he had not the countenance of a
man that had found or could teach the way to happiness.
They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid like a man not
unaccustomed to the forms of Courts. “My children,” said he, “if you
have lost your way, you shall be willingly supplied with such
conveniences for the night as this cavern will afford. I have all that
Nature requires, and you will not expect delicacies in a hermit’s cell.”
They thanked him; and, entering, were pleased with the neatness and
regularity of the place. The hermit set flesh and wine before them,
though he fed only upon fruits and water. His discourse was cheerful
without levity, and pious without enthusiasm. He soon gained the esteem
of his guests, and the Princess repented her hasty censure.
At last Imlac began thus: “I do not now wonder that your reputation is so
far extended: we have heard at Cairo of your wisdom, and came hither to
implore your direction for this young man and maiden in the _choice of
life_.”
“To him that lives well,” answered the hermit, “every form of life is
good; nor can I give any other rule for choice than to remove all
apparent evil.”
“He will most certainly remove from evil,” said the Prince, “who shall
devote himself to that solitude which you have recommended by your
example.”
“I have indeed lived fifteen years in solitude,” said the hermit, “but
have no desire that my example should gain any imitators. In my youth I
professed arms, and was raised by degrees to the highest military rank.
I have traversed wide countries at the head of my troops, and seen many
battles and sieges. At last, being disgusted by the preferments of a
younger officer, and feeling that my vigour was beginning to decay, I
resolved to close my life in peace, having found the world full of
snares, discord, and misery. I had once escaped from the pursuit of the
enemy by the shelter of this cavern, and therefore chose it for my final
residence. I employed artificers to form it into chambers, and stored it
with all that I was likely to want.
“For some time after my retreat I rejoiced like a tempest-beaten sailor
at his entrance into the harbour, being delighted with the sudden change
of the noise and hurry of war to stillness and repose. When the pleasure
of novelty went away, I employed my hours in examining the plants which
grow in the valley, and the minerals which I collected from the rocks.
But that inquiry is now grown tasteless and irksome. I have been for
some time unsettled and distracted: my mind is disturbed with a thousand
perplexities of doubt and vanities of imagination, which hourly prevail
upon me, because I have no opportunities of relaxation or diversion. I
am sometimes ashamed to think that I could not secure myself from vice
but by retiring from the exercise of virtue, and begin to suspect that I
was rather impelled by resentment than led by devotion into solitude. My
fancy riots in scenes of folly, and I lament that I have lost so much,
and have gained so little. In solitude, if I escape the example of bad
men, I want likewise the counsel and conversation of the good. I have
been long comparing the evils with the advantages of society, and resolve
to return into the world to-morrow. The life of a solitary man will be
certainly miserable, but not certainly devout.”
They heard his resolution with surprise, but after a short pause offered
to conduct him to Cairo. He dug up a considerable treasure which he had
hid among the rocks, and accompanied them to the city, on which, as he
approached it, he gazed with rapture.
CHAPTER XXII
THE HAPPINESS OF A LIFE LED ACCORDING TO NATURE.
RASSELAS went often to an assembly of learned men, who met at stated
times to unbend their minds and compare their opinions. Their manners
were somewhat coarse, but their conversation was instructive, and their
disputations acute, though sometimes too violent, and often continued
till neither controvertist remembered upon what question he began. Some
faults were almost general among them: every one was pleased to hear the
genius or knowledge of another depreciated.
In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the hermit, and
the wonder with which he heard him censure a course of life which he had
so deliberately chosen and so laudably followed. The sentiments of the
hearers were various. Some were of opinion that the folly of his choice
had been justly punished by condemnation to perpetual perseverance. One
of the youngest among them, with great vehemence, pronounced him a
hypocrite. Some talked of the right of society to the labour of
individuals, and considered retirement as a desertion of duty. Others
readily allowed that there was a time when the claims of the public were
satisfied, and when a man might properly sequester himself, to review his
life and purify his heart.
One who appeared more affected with the narrative than the rest thought
it likely that the hermit would in a few years go back to his retreat,
and perhaps, if shame did not restrain or death intercept him, return
once more from his retreat into the world. “For the hope of happiness,”
said he, “is so strongly impressed that the longest experience is not
able to efface it. Of the present state, whatever it be, we feel and are
forced to confess the misery; yet when the same state is again at a
distance, imagination paints it as desirable. But the time will surely
come when desire will no longer be our torment and no man shall be
wretched but by his own fault.
“This,” said a philosopher who had heard him with tokens of great
impatience, “is the present condition of a wise man. The time is already
come when none are wretched but by their own fault. Nothing is more idle
than to inquire after happiness which Nature has kindly placed within our
reach. The way to be happy is to live according to Nature, in obedience
to that universal and unalterable law with which every heart is
originally impressed; which is not written on it by precept, but engraven
by destiny; not instilled by education, but infused at our nativity. He
that lives according to Nature will suffer nothing from the delusions of
hope or importunities of desire; he will receive and reject with
equability of temper; and act or suffer as the reason of things shall
alternately prescribe. Other men may amuse themselves with subtle
definitions or intricate ratiocination. Let them learn to be wise by
easier means: let them observe the hind of the forest and the linnet of
the grove: let them consider the life of animals, whose motions are
regulated by instinct; they obey their guide, and are happy. Let us
therefore at length cease to dispute, and learn to live: throw away the
encumbrance of precepts, which they who utter them with so much pride and
pomp do not understand, and carry with us this simple and intelligible
maxim: that deviation from Nature is deviation from happiness.”
When he had spoken he looked round him with a placid air, and enjoyed the
consciousness of his own beneficence.
“Sir,” said the Prince with great modesty, “as I, like all the rest of
mankind, am desirous of felicity, my closest attention has been fixed
upon your discourse: I doubt not the truth of a position which a man so
learned has so confidently advanced. Let me only know what it is to live
according to Nature.”
“When I find young men so humble and so docile,” said the philosopher, “I
can deny them no information which my studies have enabled me to afford.
To live according to Nature is to act always with due regard to the
fitness arising from the relations and qualities of causes and effects;
to concur with the great and unchangeable scheme of universal felicity;
to co-operate with the general disposition and tendency of the present
system of things.”
The Prince soon found that this was one of the sages whom he should
understand less as he heard him longer. He therefore bowed and was
silent; and the philosopher, supposing him satisfied and the rest
vanquished, rose up and departed with the air of a man that had
co-operated with the present system.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE PRINCE AND HIS SISTER DIVIDE BETWEEN THEM THE WORK OF OBSERVATION.
RASSELAS returned home full of reflections, doubting how to direct his
future steps. Of the way to happiness he found the learned and simple
equally ignorant; but as he was yet young, he flattered himself that he
had time remaining for more experiments and further inquiries. He
communicated to Imlac his observations and his doubts, but was answered
by him with new doubts and remarks that gave him no comfort. He
therefore discoursed more frequently and freely with his sister, who had
yet the same hope with himself, and always assisted him to give some
reason why, though he had been hitherto frustrated, he might succeed at
last.
“We have hitherto,” said she, “known but little of the world; we have
never yet been either great or mean. In our own country, though we had
royalty, we had no power; and in this we have not yet seen the private
recesses of domestic peace. Imlac favours not our search, lest we should
in time find him mistaken. We will divide the task between us; you shall
try what is to be found in the splendour of Courts, and I will range the
shades of humbler life. Perhaps command and authority may be the supreme
blessings, as they afford the most opportunities of doing good; or
perhaps what this world can give may be found in the modest habitations
of middle fortune—too low for great designs, and too high for penury and
distress.”
CHAPTER XXIV
THE PRINCE EXAMINES THE HAPPINESS OF HIGH STATIONS.
RASSELAS applauded the design, and appeared next day with a splendid
retinue at the Court of the Bassa. He was soon distinguished for his
magnificence, and admitted, as a Prince whose curiosity had brought him
from distant countries, to an intimacy with the great officers and
frequent conversation with the Bassa himself.
He was at first inclined to believe that the man must be pleased with his
own condition whom all approached with reverence and heard with
obedience, and who had the power to extend his edicts to a whole kingdom.
“There can be no pleasure,” said he, “equal to that of feeling at once
the joy of thousands all made happy by wise administration. Yet, since
by the law of subordination this sublime delight can be in one nation but
the lot of one, it is surely reasonable to think that there is some
satisfaction more popular and accessible, and that millions can hardly be
subjected to the will of a single man, only to fill his particular breast
with incommunicable content.”
These thoughts were often in his mind, and he found no solution of the