Rasselas then entered with the princess and Pekuah, and inquired,
whether they had contrived any new diversion for the next day? "Such,"
said Nekayah, "is the state of life, that none are happy, but by the
anticipation of change: the change itself is nothing: when we have made
it, the next wish is to change again. The world is not yet exhausted;
let me see something to-morrow, which I never saw before."

"Variety," said Rasselas, "is so necessary to content, that even the
happy valley disgusted me by the recurrence of its luxuries; yet I could
not forbear to reproach myself with impatience, when I saw the monks of
St. Anthony support, without complaint, a life not of uniform delight,
but uniform hardship."

"Those men," answered Imlac, "are less wretched in their silent convent,
than the Abissinian princes in their prison of pleasure. Whatever is
done by the monks is incited by an adequate and reasonable motive. Their
labour supplies them with necessaries; it, therefore, cannot be omitted,
and is certainly rewarded. Their devotion prepares them for another
state, and reminds them of its approach, while it fits them for it.
Their time is regularly distributed; one duty succeeds another, so that
they are not left open to the distraction of unguided choice, nor lost
in the shades of listless inactivity. There is a certain task to be
performed at an appropriated hour; and their toils are cheerful, because
they consider them as acts of piety, by which they are always advancing
towards endless felicity."

"Do you think," said Nekayah, "that the monastick rule is a more holy
and less imperfect state than any other? May not he equally hope for
future happiness, who converses openly with mankind, who succours the
distressed by his charity, instructs the ignorant by his learning, and
contributes, by his industry, to the general system of life: even though
he should omit some of the mortifications which are practised in the
cloister, and allow himself such harmless delights, as his condition may
place within his reach."

"This," said Imlac, "is a question which has long divided the wise, and
perplexed the good. I am afraid to decide on either part. He that lives
well in the world, is better than he that lives well in a monastery.
But, perhaps, every one is not able to stem the temptations of publick
life; and, if he cannot conquer, he may properly retreat. Some have
little power to do good, and have, likewise, little strengt