able to
persist for ever in fixed and inexorable justice of
distribution; he will sometimes
indulge his own affections and
sometimes those of his favourites; he will permit some to please
him who can never serve him; he will discover in those whom he
loves qualities which in
reality they do not possess, and to those
from whom he receives pleasure he will in his turn
endeavour to
give it. Thus will recommendations sometimes
prevail which were
purchased by money or by the more
destructive bribery of flattery
and servility.
"He that hath much to do will do something wrong, and of that wrong
must suffer the
consequences, and if it were possible that he
should always act
rightly, yet, when such numbers are to judge of
his conduct, the bad will
censure and
obstruct him by malevolence
and the good sometimes by mistake.
"The highest stations cannot
therefore hope to be the abodes of
happiness, which I would
willingly" target="_blank" title="ad.情愿地,乐意地">
willingly believe to have fled from
thrones and palaces to seats of
humbleprivacy and placid
obscurity. For what can
hinder the
faction" target="_blank" title="n.满意;满足">
satisfaction or
intercept the
expectations of him whose abilities are
adequate to his
employments, who sees with his own eyes the whole
circuit of his
influence, who chooses by his own knowledge all whom he trusts, and
whom none are tempted to
deceive by hope or fear? Surely he has
nothing to do but to love and to be loved; to be
virtuous and to be
happy."
"Whether perfect happiness would be procured by perfect goodness,"
said Nekayah, "this world will never afford an opportunity of
deciding. But this, at least, may be maintained, that we do not
always find
visible happiness in
proportion to
visiblevirtue. All
natural and almost all political evils are
incident alike to the
bad and good; they are confounded in the
misery of a
famine, and
not much
distinguished in the fury of a
faction; they sink together
in a
tempest and are
driven together from their country by
invaders. All that
virtue can afford is quietness of conscience
and a steady
prospect of a happier state; this may
enable us to
endure
calamity with
patience, but remember that
patience must
oppose pain."
CHAPTER XXVIII - RASSELAS AND NEKAYAH CONTINUE THEIR CONVERSATION.
"DEAR Princess," said Rasselas, "you fall into the common errors of
exaggeratory declamation, by producing in a familiar disquisition
examples of national calamities and scenes of
extensivemiserywhich are found in books rather than in the world, and which, as
they are
horrid, are ordained to be rare. Let us not imagine evils
which we do not feel, nor
injure life by misrepresentations. I
cannot bear that querulous
eloquence which threatens every city
with a siege like that of Jerusalem, that makes
famine attend on
every
flight of
locust, and suspends
pestilence on the wing of
every blast that issues from the south.
"On necessary and
inevitable evils which
overwhelm kingdoms at once
all disputation is vain; when they happen they must be endured.
But it is
evident that these bursts of
universaldistress are more
dreaded than felt; thousands and tens of thousands
flourish in
youth and
wither in age, without the knowledge of any other than
domestic evils, and share the same pleasures and vexations, whether
their kings are mild or cruel, whether the armies of their country
pursue their enemies or
retreat before them. While Courts are
disturbed with
intestine competitions and ambassadors are
negotiating in foreign countries, the smith still plies his anvil
and the husbandman drives his
plough forward; the necessaries of
life are required and obtained, and the
successive business of the
season continues to make its wonted revolutions.
"Let us cease to consider what perhaps may never happen, and what,
when it shall happen, will laugh at human
speculation. We will not
endeavour to modify the motions of the elements or to fix the
destiny of kingdoms. It is our business to consider what beings
like us may perform, each labouring for his own happiness by
promoting within his
circle, however narrow, the happiness of
others.
"Marriage is
evidently the
dictate of Nature; men and women were
made to be the companions of each other, and
therefore I cannot be
persuaded but that marriage is one of the means of happiness."
"I know not," said the Princess, "whether marriage be more than one
of the
innumerable modes of human
misery. When I see and reckon
the various forms of connubial infelicity, the
unexpected causes of
lasting
discord, the diversities of
temper, the oppositions of
opinion, the rude collisions of
contrary desire where both are
urged by
violent impulses, the
obstinatecontest of disagreeing
virtues where both are supported by
consciousness of good
intention, I am sometimes disposed to think, with the severer
casuists of most nations, that marriage is rather permitted than
approved, and that none, but by the instigation of a
passion too
much
indulged,
entangle themselves with indissoluble compact."
"You seem to forget," replied Rasselas, "that you have, even now
represented celibacy as less happy than marriage. Both conditions
may be bad, but they cannot both be worse. Thus it happens, when
wrong opinions are entertained, that they
mutually destroy each
other and leave the mind open to truth."
"I did not expect," answered, the Princess, "to hear that imputed
to
falsehood which is the
consequence only of
frailty. To the
mind, as to the eye, it is difficult to compare with exactness
objects vast in their
extent and various in their parts. When we
see or
conceive the whole at once, we
readily note the
discriminations and decide the
preference, but of two systems, of
which neither can be surveyed by any human being in its full
compass of
magnitude and multiplicity of
complication, where is the
wonder that, judging of the whole by parts, I am alternately
affected by one and the other as either presses on my memory or
fancy? We
differ from ourselves just as we
differ from each other
when we see only part of the question, as in the multifarious
relations of
politics and
morality, but when we
perceive the whole
at once, as in numerical computations, all agree in one judgment,
and none ever varies in his opinion."
"Let us not add," said the Prince, "to the other evils of life the
bitterness of
controversy, nor
endeavour to vie with each other in
subtilties of
argument. We are employed in a search of which both
are
equally to enjoy the success or suffer by the miscarriage; it
is
therefore fit that we
assist each other. You surely conclude
too
hastily from the infelicity of marriage against its
institution; will not the
misery of life prove
equally that life
cannot be the gift of Heaven? The world must be peopled by
marriage or peopled without it."
"How the world is to be peopled," returned Nekayah, "is not my care
and need not be yours. I see no danger that the present generation
should omit to leave successors behind them; we are not now
inquiring for the world, but for ourselves."
CHAPTER XXIX - THE DEBATE ON MARRIAGE (CONTINUED).
"THE good of the whole," says Rasselas, "is the same with the good
of all its parts. If marriage be best for mankind, it must be
evidently best for individuals; or a
permanent and necessary duty
must be the cause of evil, and some must be
inevitably sacrificed
to the
convenience of others. In the
estimate which you have made
of the two states, it appears that the incommodities of a single
life are in a great
measure necessary and certain, but those of the
conjugal state
accidental and avoidable. I cannot
forbear to
flatter myself that
prudence and benevolence will make marriage
happy. The general folly of mankind is the cause of general
complaint. What can be expected but
disappointment and repentance
from a choice made in the immaturity of youth, in the
ardour of
desire, without judgment, without
foresight, without
inquiry after
conformity of opinions, similarity of manners, rectitude of
judgment, or
purity of sentiment?
"Such is the common process of marriage. A youth and maiden,
meeting by chance or brought together by artifice, exchange
glances, reciprocate civilities, go home and dream of one another.
Having little to
divert attention or diversify thought, they find
themselves
uneasy when they are apart, and
therefore conclude that
they shall be happy together. They marry, and discover what
nothing but
voluntaryblindness before had concealed; they wear out
life in altercations, and
charge Nature with cruelty.
"From those early marriages proceeds
likewise the
rivalry of
parents and children: the son is eager to enjoy the world before
the father is
willing to
forsake it, and there is hardly room at
once for two generations. The daughter begins to bloom before the
mother can be content to fade, and neither can
forbear to wish for
the
absence of the other.
"Surely all these evils may be avoided by that
deliberation and
delay which
prudence prescribes to irrevocable choice. In the