the prince, "because pleasure has ceased to please; I am
lonely, because I am miserable, and am unwilling 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 that the emperour
of Abissinia 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 excite endeavour, and I should not then
repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the western mountain, or
lament when the day breaks, and sleep will no longer hide me from
myself. When I see the kids and the lambs chasing one another, I fancy,
that. I should be happy, if I had something to pursue. But, possessing
all that I can want, I find one day and one hour exactly like another,
except that the latter is still more tedious than the former. Let your
experience inform me, how the day may now seem as short as in my
childhood, while nature was yet fresh, and every moment showed me what I
never had observed before. I have already enjoyed too much; give me
something to desire."

The old man was surprised at this new species of affliction, and knew
not what to reply, yet was unwilling to be silent. "Sir," said he, "if
you had seen the miseries of the world, you would know how to value your
present state." "Now," said the prince, "you have given me something to
desire; I shall long to see the miseries of the world, since the sight
of them is necessary to happiness."

CHAP. IV.

THE PRINCE CONTINUES TO GRIEVE AND MUSE.

At this time the sound of musick proclaimed the hour of repast, and the
conversation was concluded. The old man went away, sufficiently
discontented, to find that his reasonings had produced the only
conclusion which they were intended to prevent. But, in the decline of
life, shame and grief are of short duration; whether it be, that we bear
easily what we have borne long, or that, finding ourselves in age less
regarded, we less regard others; or that we look with slight regard upon
afflictions, to wh