the late danger and escape, and no mind was any longer at leisure for gay sallies or careless prattle.

Seged had now no other employment than to contemplate the innumerable casualties which lie in ambush on every side to intercept the happiness of man, and 5 break in upon the hour of delight and tranquillity. He had, however, the consolation of thinking that he had not been now disappointed by his own fault, and that the accident which had blasted the hopes of the day might easily be prevented by future caution.

10

That he might provide for the pleasure of the next morning, he resolved to repeal his penal edict, since he had already found that discontent and melancholy were not to be frighted away by the threats of authority, and that Pleasure would only reside where she 15 was exempted from control. He therefore invited all the companions of his retreat to unbounded pleasantry, by proposing prizes for those who should, on the following day, distinguish themselves by any festive performances; the tables of the antechamber were covered with 20 gold and pearls, and robes and garlands decreed the rewards of those who could refine elegance or heighten pleasure.

At this display of riches every eye immediately sparkled, and every tongue was busied in celebrating 25 the bounty and magnificence of the emperor. But when Seged entered, in hopes of uncommon entertainment from universal emulation, he found that any passion too strongly agitated puts an end to that tranquillity which is necessary to mirth, and that the mind that 30 is to be moved by the gentle ventilations of gaiety must be first smoothed by a total calm. Whatever we ardently wish to gain, we must in the same degree be afraid to lose, and fear and pleasure cannot dwell together.

All was now care and solicitude. Nothing was done 35 or spoken, but with so visible an endeavor at perfection as always failed to delight, though it sometimes forced

admiration; and Seged could not but observe with sorrow that his prizes had more influence than himself. As the evening approached, the contest grew more earnest, and those who were forced to allow themselves 5 excelled began to discover the malignity of defeat, first by angry glances, and at last by contemptuous murmurs. Seged likewise shared the anxiety of the day, for considering himself as obliged to distribute with exact justice the prizes which had been so zealously sought, 10 he durst never remit his attention, but passed his time upon the rack of doubt in balancing different kinds of merit, and adjusting the claims of all the competitors.

At last, knowing that no exactness could satisfy those whose hopes he should disappoint, and thinking that 15 on a day set apart for happiness, it would be cruel to oppress any heart with sorrow, he declared that all had pleased him alike, and dismissed all with presents of equal value.

Seged soon saw that his caution had not been able 20 to avoid offense. They who had believed themselves secure of the highest prizes, were not pleased to be levelled with the crowd; and though, by the liberality of the king, they received more than his promise had entitled them to expect, they departed unsatisfied, be25 cause they were honored with no distinction, and wanted an opportunity to triumph in the mortification of their opponents. 'Behold here,' said Seged, the condition of him who places his happiness in the happiness of others.' He then retired to meditate, and, while the 30 courtiers were repining at his distributions, saw the fifth sun go down in discontent.

The next dawn renewed his resolution to be happy. But having learned how little he could effect by settled schemes or preparatory measures, he thought it best to 35 give up one day entirely to chance, and left every one to please and be pleased his own way.

This relaxation of regularity diffused a general com

placence through the whole court, and the emperor imagined that he had at last found the secret of obtaining an interval of felicity. But as he was roving in this careless assembly with equal carelessness, he overheard one of his courtiers in a close arbor murmuring alone: 5 What merit has Seged above us, that we should thus fear and obey him, a man, whom, whatever he may have formerly performed, his luxury now shows to have the same weakness with ourselves.' This charge affected him the more, as it was uttered by one whom he had 10 always observed among the most abject of his flatterers. At first his indignation prompted him to severity; but reflecting that what was spoken without intention to be heard, was to be considered as only thought, and was perhaps but the sudden burst of casual and tempo- 15 rary vexation, he invented some decent pretense to send him away, that his retreat might not be tainted with the breath of envy, and, after the struggle of deliberation was past, and all desire of revenge utterly suppressed, passed the evening not only with tranquillity, 20 but triumph, though none but himself was conscious of the victory.

The remembrance of his clemency cheered the beginning of the seventh day, and nothing happened to disturb the pleasure of Seged, till, looking on the tree 25 that shaded him, he recollected that under a tree of the same kind he had passed the night after his defeat in the kingdom of Goiama. The reflection on his loss, his dishonor, and the miseries which his subjects suffered from the invader, filled him with sadness. At last 30 he shook off the weight of sorrow, and began to solace himself with his usual pleasures, when his tranquillity was again disturbed by jealousies which the late contest for the prizes had produced, and which, having in vain tried to pacify them by persuasion, he was forced to 35 silence by command.

On the eighth morning Seged was awakened early

by an unusual hurry in the apartments, and inquiring the cause, was told that the princess Balkis was seized with sickness. He rose, and calling the physicians, found that they had little hope of her recovery. Here was an 5 end of jollity; all his thoughts were now upon his daughter, whose eyes he closed on the tenth day.

Such were the days which Seged of Ethiopia had appropriated to a short respiration from the fatigues of war and the cares of government. This narrative he 10 has bequeathed to future generations, that no man hereafter may presume to say, 'This day shall be a day of happiness.'

SIR:

The Adventurer 1

No. 102. SATURDAY, October 27, 1753

-Quid tam dextro pede concipis, ut te

Conatûs non pæniteat, votique peracti?-Juv. 10. 5, 6.

What in the conduct of our life appears

So well design'd, so luckily begun,

But when we have our wish, we wish undone ?-Dryden.

TO THE ADVENTURER

I HAVE been for many years a trader in London. My beginning was narrow, and my stock small; I was, therefore, a long time brow-beaten and despised by those who, having more money, thought they had more 5 merit than myself. I did not, however, suffer my resentment to instigate me to any mean arts of supplantation, nor my eagerness of riches to betray me to any indirect methods of gain; I pursued my business with incessant assiduity, supported by the hope of being one 10 day richer than those who contemned me; and had, upon every annual review of my books, the satisfaction of finding my fortune increased beyond my expectation. In a few years my industry and probity were fully recompensed, my wealth was really great, and my repu- 15 tation for wealth still greater. I had large warehouses crowded with goods, and considerable sums in the public funds; I was caressed upon the Exchange by the

1 Eight months after the end of The Rambler, Johnson's friend and admirer, Hawkesworth, began The Adventurer. It was published semi-weekly for more than a year, and Johnson wrote more than twenty essays for it, besides giving his very useful advice and suggestions. 71

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