He admits a few friends, once a month, to hear his deductions, and enjoy his discoveries.  I was introduced, as a man of knowledge worthy of his notice.  Men of various ideas, and fluent conversation, are commonly welcome to those whose thoughts have been long fixed upon a single point, and who find the images of other things stealing away.  I delighted him with my remarks; he smiled at the narrative of my travels, and was glad to forget the constellations, and descend, for a moment, into the lower world.

“On the next day of vacation I renewed my visit, and was so fortunate as to please him again.  He relaxed, from that time, the severity of his rule, and permitted me to enter at my own choice.  I found him always busy, and always glad to be relieved.  As each knew much which the other was desirous of learning, we exchanged our notions with great delight.  I perceived that I had, every day, more of his confidence, and always found new cause of admiration in the profundity of his mind.  His comprehension is vast, his memory capacious and retentive, his discourse is methodical, and his expression clear.

“His integrity and benevolence are equal to his learning.  His deepest researches, and most favourite studies, are willingly interrupted for any opportunity of doing good, by his counsel or his riches.  To his closest retreat, at his most busy moments, all are admitted that want his assistance:  ’For, though I exclude idleness and pleasure, I will never,’ says he, bar my doors against charity.  To man is permitted the contemplation of the skies, but the practice of virtue is commanded.’”

“Surely,” said the princess, “this man is happy.”

“I visited him,” said Imlac, “with more and more frequency, and was every time more enamoured of his conversation:  he was sublime without haughtiness, courteous without formality, and communicative without ostentation.  I was, at first, great princess, of your opinion; thought him the happiest of mankind; and often congratulated him on the blessing that he enjoyed.  He seemed to hear nothing with indifference but the praises of his condition, to which he always returned a general answer, and diverted the conversation to some other topick.

“Amidst this willingness to be pleased, and labour to please, I had, quickly, reason to imagine, that some painful sentiment pressed upon his mind.  He often looked up earnestly towards the sun, and let his voice fall in the midst of his discourse.  He would sometimes, when we were alone, gaze upon me, in silence, with the air of a man, who longed to speak what he was yet resolved to suppress.  He would often send for me, with vehement injunctions of haste, though, when I came to him, he had nothing extraordinary to say.  And sometimes, when I was leaving him, would call me back, pause a few moments, and then dismiss me.”

CHAP.  XLI.

THE ASTRONOMER DISCOVERS THE CAUSE OF HIS UNEASINESS.