Why Every Road Fails

"There is no doubt, then, that these roads to happiness are certain byways, and cannot lead anyone to where they promise to lead. With what great evils they are entangled, I will show very briefly. For what then? Will you try to gather money? But you will be snatching it from one who has it. Do you wish to shine with dignities? You will beg the one who grants them, and you who long to outdo others in honor will become cheap through the humbleness of begging. Do you desire power? You will lie exposed to the plots of your subjects, subject to dangers. Do you seek glory? But, torn this way and that over every rough path, you cease to be secure. Would you lead a life of pleasure? But who would not scorn and cast off the slave of so vile and fragile a thing, the body?

"And as for those who set forth the goods of the body—on how slight, how fragile a possession do they rely! Can you surpass elephants in bulk, bulls in strength? Will you outstrip tigers in swiftness? Look at the expanse of the heavens, their firmness, their speed, and for once stop admiring cheap things. And indeed the heaven is not so much to be admired for these qualities as for the reason by which it is governed. As for the brightness of beauty, how fleeting it is, how swift, more fugitive than the changeableness of spring flowers! For if, as Aristotle says, people had the eyes of Lynceus, so that their sight could penetrate obstacles, would not the body of Alcibiades, most beautiful on the surface, seem most foul once the inner organs were inspected? Therefore it is not your own nature but the weakness of the eyes of those who look that makes you seem beautiful. But value the goods of the body as highly as you wish, provided you know this: that whatever you admire can be dissolved by the little flame of a three-day fever.

"From all of which it is possible to reduce to this sum: that these things, which can neither provide the goods they promise nor are made perfect by the gathering together of all goods, neither lead to happiness as if by some paths, nor make people blessed in themselves."

'It is beyond doubt, then, that these paths do not lead to happiness; they cannot guide anyone to the promised goal. Now, I will very briefly show what serious evils are involved in following them. Just consider. Is it thy endeavour to heap up money? Why, thou must wrest it from its present possessor! Art thou minded to put on the splendour of official dignity? Thou must beg from those who have the giving of it; thou who covetest to outvie others in honour must lower thyself to the humble posture of petition. Dost thou long for power? Thou must face perils, for thou wilt be at the mercy of thy subjects' plots. Is glory thy aim? Thou art lured on through all manner of hardships, and there is an end to thy peace of mind. Art fain to lead a life of pleasure? Yet who does not scorn and contemn one who is the slave of the weakest and vilest of things—the body? Again, on how slight and perishable a possession do they rely who set before themselves bodily excellences! Can ye ever surpass the elephant in bulk or the bull in strength? Can ye excel the tiger in swiftness? Look upon the infinitude, the solidity, the swift motion, of the heavens, and for once cease to admire things mean and worthless. And yet the heavens are not so much to be admired on this account as for the reason which guides them. Then, how transient is the lustre of beauty! how soon gone!—more fleeting than the fading bloom of spring flowers. And yet if, as Aristotle says, men should see with the eyes of Lynceus, so that their sight might pierce through obstructions, would not that body of Alcibiades, so gloriously fair in outward seeming, appear altogether loathsome when all its inward parts lay open to the view? Therefore, it is not thy own nature that makes thee seem beautiful, but the weakness of the eyes that see thee. Yet prize as unduly as ye will that body's excellences; so long as ye know that this that ye admire, whatever its worth, can be dissolved away by the feeble flame of a three days' fever. From all which considerations we may conclude as a whole, that these things which cannot make good the advantages they promise, which are never made perfect by the assemblage of all good things—these neither lead as by-ways to happiness, nor themselves make men completely happy.'