“I now expected the caresses of my kinsmen, and the congratulations of my friends, and was not without hope that my father, whatever value he had set upon riches, would own, with gladness and pride, a son, who was able to add to the felicity and honour of the nation.  But I was soon convinced that my thoughts were vain.  My father had been dead fourteen years, having divided his wealth among my brothers, who were removed to some other provinces.  Of my companions, the greater part was in the grave; of the rest, some could, with difficulty, remember me, and some considered me, as one corrupted by foreign manners.

“A man, used to vicissitudes, is not easily dejected.  I forgot, after a time, my disappointment, and endeavoured to recommend myself to the nobles of the kingdom; they admitted me to their tables, heard my story, and dismissed me.  I opened a school, and was prohibited to teach.  I then resolved to sit down in the quiet of domestick life, and addressed a lady that was fond of my conversation, but rejected my suit, because my father was a merchant.

“Wearied, at last, with solicitation and repulses, I resolved to hide myself for ever from the world, and depend no longer on the opinion or caprice of others.  I waited for the time, when the gate of the happy valley should open, that I might bid farewell to hope and fear:  the day came; my performance was distinguished with favour, and I resigned myself with joy to perpetual confinement.”

“Hast thou here found happiness at last?” said Rasselas.  “Tell me, without reserve; art thou content with thy condition? or, dost thou wish to be again wandering and inquiring?  All the inhabitants of this valley celebrate their lot, and, at the annual visit of the emperour, invite others to partake of their felicity.”

“Great prince,” said Imlac, “I shall speak the truth; I know not one of all your attendants who does not lament the hour when he entered this retreat.  I am less unhappy than the rest, because I have a mind replete with images, which I can vary and combine at pleasure.  I can amuse my solitude by the renovation of the knowledge which begins to fade from my memory, and by recollection of the accidents of my past life.  Yet all this ends in the sorrowful consideration, that my acquirements are now useless, and that none of my pleasures can be again enjoyed.  The rest, whose minds have no impression but of the present moment, are either corroded by malignant passions, or sit stupid in the gloom of perpetual vacancy.”

“What passions can infest those,” said the prince, “who have no rivals?  We are in a place where impotence precludes malice, and where all envy is repressed by community of enjoyments.”