e farewell to happiness is
the beginning of wisdom, and the surest road to happiness. There is
nothing sweeter than the return of joy that follows the renouncement of
joy, as there is nothing more exquisite, of keener, deeper delight,
than the enchantment of the disenchanted."

In these terms does a sage describe a sage's happiness; but is it true
that the happiness of Marcus Aurelius, as of Renan himself, arose only
from the return of joy that followed the renouncement of joy, and from
the enchantment of the disenchanted? For then were it better that
wisdom be less, that we be the less disenchanted. But what can the
wisdom desire that declares itself thus disenchanted? Was it not truth
that it sought? and is there a truth that can stifle the love of truth
in the depths of a loyal heart? The truth that has taught you that man
is wicked and nature unjust; that justice is futile, and love without
power, has indeed taught you nothing if it have not at the same time
revealed a truth that is greater still, one that throws on these
disillusions a light more brilliant, more ample, than the myriad
flickering beams it has quenched all around you, For there lurks
unspeakable pride, and pride of the poorest kind, in thus declaring
ourselves satisfied because we can find satisfaction in nothing that
is. Such satisfaction, in truth, is discontent only, too sluggish to
lift its head; and they only are discontented who no longer would
understand.

Does not the man who conceives it his duty to forswear all happiness
renounce something as well that, as yet, has not turned into happiness?
And besides, what are the joys to which we bid this somewhat affected
farewell? It must surely be right to discard all happiness injurious to
others; but happiness that injures others will not long wear the
semblance of happiness in the eyes of the sage. And when his wisdom at
length has revealed the profounder joys, will it not be in all
unconsciousness that he renounces those of lesser worth?

Let us never put faith in the wisdom or gladness that is based on
contempt of a single existing thing; for contempt and renouncement, its
sickly offspring, offer asylum to none but the weak and the aged. We
have only the right to scorn a joy when such scorn is wholly
unconscious. But so long as we listen to the voice of contempt or
renouncement, so long as we suffer these to flood our heart with
bitterness, so long must the joy we discard be a joy that we sti