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 faction" target="_blank" title="n.满意；满足">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 difficulty. But as presents and civilities gained him more

familiarity, he found that almost every man who stood high in his
employment hated all the rest and was hated by them, and that their

lives were a continualsuccession of plots and detections,
stratagems and escapes, faction and treachery. Many of those who

surrounded the Bassa were sent only to watch and report his
conduct: every tongue was muttering censure, and every eye was

searching for a fault.
At last the letters of revocation arrived: the Bassa was carried

in chains to Constantinople, and his name was mentioned no more.
"What are we now to think of the prerogatives of power?" said

Rasselas to his sister: "is it without efficacy to good, or is the
subordinate degree only dangerous, and the supreme safe and

glorious? Is the Sultan the only happy man in his dominions, or is
the Sultan himself subject to the torments of suspicion and the

dread of enemies?"
In a short time the second Bassa was deposed. The Sultan that had

advanced him was murdered by the Janissaries, and his successor had
other views or different favourites.

CHAPTER XXV - THE PRINCESS PURSUES HER INQUIRY WITH MORE DILIGENCE
THAN SUCCESS.

THE Princess in the meantime insinuated herself into many families;
for there are few doors through which liberality, joined with good

humour, cannot find its way. The daughters of many houses were
airy and cheerful; but Nekayah had been too long accustomed to the

conversation of Imlac and her brother to be much pleased with
childish levity and prattle which had no meaning. She found their

thoughts narrow, their wishes low, and their merriment often
artificial. Their pleasures, poor as they were, could not be

preserved pure, but were embittered by petty competitions and
worthless emulation. They were always jealous of the beauty of

each other, of a quality to which solicitude can add nothing, and
from which detraction can take nothing away. Many were in love

with triflers like themselves, and many fancied that they were in
love when in truth they were only idle. Their affection was not

fixed on sense or virtue, and therefore seldom ended but in
vexation. Their grief, however, like their joy, was transient;

everything floated in their mind unconnected with the past or
future, so that one desire easily gave way to another, as a second

stone, cast into the water, effaces and confounds the circles of
the first.

With these girls she played as with inoffensive animals, and found
them proud of her countenance and weary of her company.

But her purpose was to examine more deeply, and her affability
easily persuaded the hearts that were swelling with sorrow to

discharge their secrets in her ear, and those whom hope flattered
or prosperitydelighted often courted her to partake their

pleasure.
The Princess and her brother commonly met in the evening in a

private summerhouse on the banks of the Nile, and related to each
other the occurrences of the day. As they were sitting together

the Princess cast her eyes upon the river that flowed before her.
"Answer," said she, "great father of waters, thou that rollest thy

goods through eighty nations, to the invocations of the daughter of
thy native king. Tell me if thou waterest through all thy course a

single habitation from which thou dost not hear the murmurs of
complaint."

"You are then," said Rasselas, "not more successful in private
houses than I have been in Courts." "I have, since the last

partition of our provinces," said the Princess, "enabled myself to
enter familiarly into many families, where there was the fairest

show of prosperity and peace, and know not one house that is not
haunted by some fury that destroys their quiet.

"I did not seek ease among the poor, because I concluded that there
it could not be found. But I saw many poor whom I had supposed to

live in affluence. Poverty has in large cities very different
appearances. It is often concealed in splendour and often in

extravagance. It is the care of a very great part of mankind to
conceal their indigence from the rest. They support themselves by

temporary expedients, and every day is lost in contriving for the
morrow.

"This, however, was an evil which, though frequent, I saw with less
pain, because I could relieve it. Yet some have refused my

bounties; more offended with my quickness to detect their wants
than pleased with my readiness to succour them; and others, whose

exigencies compelled them to admit my kindness, have never been
able to forgive their benefactress. Many, however, have been

sincerely grateful without the ostentation of gratitude or the hope
of other favours."

CHAPTER XXVI - THE PRINCESS CONTINUES HER REMARKS UPON PRIVATE
LIFE.

NEKAYAH, perceiving her brother's attention fixed, proceeded in her
narrative.

"In families where there is or is not poverty there is commonly
discord. If a kingdom be, as Imlac tells us, a great family, a

family likewise is a little kingdom, torn with factions and exposed
to revolutions. An unpractised observer expects the love of

parents and children to be constant and equal. But this kindness
seldom continues beyond the years of infancy; in a short time the

children become rivals to their parents. Benefits are allowed by
reproaches, and gratitude debased by envy.

"Parents and children seldom act in concert; each child endeavours
to appropriate the esteem or the fondness of the parents; and the

parents, with yet less temptation, betray each other to their
children. Thus, some place their confidence in the father and some

in the mother, and by degrees the house is filled with artifices
and feuds.

"The opinions of children and parents, of the young and the old,
are naturally opposite, by the contrary effects of hope and

despondency, of expectation and experience, without crime or folly
on either side. The colours of life in youth and age appear

different, as the face of Nature in spring and winter. And how can
children credit the assertions of parents which their own eyes show

them to be false?
"Few parents act in such a manner as much to enforce their maxims

by the credit of their lives. The old man trusts wholly to slow
contrivance and gradual progression; the youth expects to force his

way by genius, vigour, and precipitance. The old man pays regard
to riches, and the youth reverences virtue. The old man deifies

prudence; the youth commits himself to magnanimity and chance. The
young man, who intends no ill, believes that none is intended, and

therefore acts with openness and candour; but his father; having
suffered the injuries of fraud, is impelled to suspect and too

often allured to practise it. Age looks with anger on the temerity
of youth, and youth with contempt on the scrupulosity of age. Thus

parents and children for the greatest part live on to love less and
less; and if those whom Nature has thus closely united are the

torments of each other, where shall we look for tenderness and
consolations?"

"Surely," said the Prince, "you must have been fortunate" target="_blank" title="a.不幸的，运气差的">unfortunate in your
choice of acquaintance. I am unwilling to believe that the most

tender of all relations is thus impeded in its effects by natural
necessity."

"Domestic discord," answered she, "is not inevitably and fatally
necessary, but yet it is not easily avoided. We seldom see that a