Rasselas went often to an assembly of learned men, who met at
stated times to unbend their minds and compare their opinions.
Their manners were somewhat coarse, but their conversation was
instructive, and their disputations acute, though sometimes too
violent, and often continued till neither controvertist remembered
upon what question he began. Some faults were almost general among
them: every one was pleased to hear the genius or knowledge of
another depreciated.

In this assembly Rasselas was relating his interview with the
hermit, and the wonder with which he heard him censure a course of
life which he had so deliberately chosen and so laudably followed.
The sentiments of the hearers were various. Some were of opinion
that the folly of his choice had been justly punished by
condemnation to perpetual perseverance. One of the youngest among
them, with great vehemence, pronounced him a hypocrite. Some
talked of the right of society to the labour of individuals, and
considered retirement as a desertion of duty. Others readily
allowed that there was a time when the claims of the public were
satisfied, and when a man might properly sequester himself, to
review his life and purify his heart.

One who appeared more affected with the narrative than the rest
thought it likely that the hermit would in a few years go back to
his retreat, and perhaps, if shame did not restrain or death
intercept him, return once more from his retreat into the world.
"For the hope of happiness," said he, "is so strongly impressed
that the longest experience is not able to efface it. Of the
present state, whatever it be, we feel and are forced to confess