their lives in tuning one unvaried
series of sounds. I likewise
can call the lutist and the
singer; but the sounds that pleased me
yesterday weary me to-day, and will grow yet more wearisome to-
morrow. I can discover in me no power of
perception which is not
glutted with its proper pleasure, yet I do not feel myself
delighted. Man surely has some
latent sense for which this place
affords no
gratification; or he has some desire
distinct from
sense, which must be satisfied before he can be happy."
After this he lifted up his head, and
seeing the moon rising,
walked towards the palace. As he passed through the fields, and
saw the animals around him, "Ye," said he, "are happy, and need not
envy me that walk thus among you, burdened with myself; nor do I,
ye gentle beings, envy your
felicity; for it is not the
felicity of
man. I have many distresses from which you are free; I fear pain
when I do not feel it; I sometimes
shrink at evils recollected, and
sometimes start at evils anticipated: surely the
equity of
Providence has balanced
peculiar sufferings with
peculiarenjoyments."
With observations like these the Prince amused himself as he
returned, uttering them with a
plaintive voice, yet with a look
that discovered him to feel some complacence in his own
perspicacity, and to receive some
solace of the mi
series of life
from
consciousness of the
delicacy with which he felt and the
eloquence with which he bewailed them. He mingled
cheerfully in
the diversions of the evening, and all rejoiced to find that his
heart was lightened.
CHAPTER III - THE WANTS OF HIM THAT WANTS NOTHING.
ON the next day, his old
instructor, imagining that he had now made
himself acquainted with his disease of mind, was in hope of curing
it by
counsel, and officiously sought an opportunity of conference,
which the Prince, having long considered him as one whose
intellects were exhausted, was not very
willing to afford. "Why,"
said he, "does this man thus
intrude upon me? Shall I never be
suffered to forget these lectures, which pleased only while they
were new, and to become new again must be forgotten?" He then
walked into the wood, and
composed himself to his usual
meditations; when, before his thoughts had taken any settled form,
he perceived his
pursuer at his side, and was at first prompted by
his
impatience to go
hastily away; but being un
willing to
offend a
man whom he had once reverenced and still loved, he invited him to
sit down with him on the bank.
The old man, thus encouraged, began to
lament the change which had
been
lately observed in the Prince, and to inquire why he so often
retired from the pleasures of the palace to
loneliness and silence.
"I fly from pleasure," said the Prince, "because pleasure has
ceased to please: I am
lonely because I am
miserable, and am
un
willing to cloud with my presence the happiness of others."
"You, sir," said the sage, "are the first who has complained of
misery in the Happy Valley. I hope to
convince you that your
complaints have no real cause. You are here in full possession of
all the Emperor of Abyssinia can
bestow; here is neither labour to
be endured nor danger to be dreaded, yet here is all that labour or
danger can
procure or purchase. Look round and tell me which of
your wants is without supply: if you want nothing, how are you
unhappy?"
"That I want nothing," said the Prince, "or that I know not what I
want, is the cause of my
complaint: if I had any known want, I
should have a certain wish; that wish would
exciteendeavour, and I
should not then repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the
western mountains, or to
lament when the day breaks, and sleep will
no longer hide me from myself. When I see the kids and the lambs