ith 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."

"There may be community," said Imlac, "of material possessions, but
there can never be community of love or of esteem. It must happen, that
one will please more than another; he that knows himself despised will
always be envious; and still more envious and malevolent, if he is
condemned to live in the presence of those who despise him. The
invitations, by which they allure others to a state which they feel to
be wretched, proceed from the natural malignity of hopeless misery. They
are weary of themselves, and of each other, and expect to find relief in
new companions. They envy the liberty which their folly has forfeited,
and would gladly see all mankind imprisoned like themselves.

"From this crime, however, I am wholly free. No man can say that he is
wretched by my persuasion. I look with pity on the crowds who are
annually soliciting admission to captivity, and wish that it were lawful
for me to warn them of their danger."

"My dear Imlac," said the prince, "I will open to thee my whole heart. I
have long meditated an escape from the happy valley. I have examined
the mountains on every side, but find myself insuperably barred: teach
me the way to break my prison; thou shalt be the companion of my flight,
the guide of my rambles, the partner of my fortune, and my sole director
in the CHOICE OF LIFE."

"Sir," answered the poet, "your escape will be difficult, and, perhaps,
you may soon repent your curiosity. The world, which you figure to
yourself smooth and quiet as the lake in the valley, you will find a sea
foaming with tempests, and boiling with whirlpools; you will be
sometimes overwhelmed by the waves of violence, and sometimes dashed
against the rocks of treachery. Amidst wrongs and frauds, competitions
and anxieties, you will w