III.—­The Search for Happiness

The prince and princess, who carried with them jewels sufficient to make them rich in any place of commerce, gradually succeeded in mixing in the society of the city; and for some time the former, who had been wont to ponder over what choice of life he should make, thought choice needless because all appeared to him really happy.

Imlac was unwilling to crush the hope of inexperience.  Till one day, having sat awhile silent, “I know not,” said Rasselas, “what can be the reason that I am more unhappy than any of my friends.  I see them perpetually and unalterably cheerful, but feel my own mind restless and uneasy.  I am unsatisfied with those pleasures which I seem most to court.  I live in the crowds of jollity, not so much to enjoy company as to shun myself, and am only loud and merry to conceal my sadness.”

“Every man,” said Imlac, “may, by examining his own mind, guess what passes in the minds of others.  When you feel that your own gaiety 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 convinced that happiness is never to be found, and each believes it to be possessed by others, to keep alive the hope of obtaining it for himself.”

“This,” said the prince, “may be true of others, since it is true of me; yet whatever be the general infelicity of man, one condition is more happy than another, and wisdom surely directs us to take the least evil in the choice of life.”

“Very few,” said the poet, “live by choice.  Every man is placed in the present condition by causes which acted without his foresight, and with which he did not always willingly co-operate; and, therefore, you will rarely meet one who does not think the lot of his neighbour better than his own.”

Rasselas resolved, however, to continue his experiments on life.  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 found it a hall of declamation, and listened to a sage who discoursed with great energy on the conquest of the passions, and displayed the happiness of those who had obtained this 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.  Receiving permission to visit this philosopher—­having, indeed, purchased it by presenting him with a purse of gold—­Rasselas returned home with joy to Imlac.

“I have found,” said he, “a man who, from the unshaken throne of rational fortitude, looks down on the scenes of life changing beneath him.  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.”

Imlac’s caution turned out to be wise, for when the prince paid his visit a few days afterwards, he found the philosopher weeping over the death of his only daughter, and refusing to be comforted by any of the consolations that truth and reason could afford.