And so, too, with academies and chairs of philosophy.  You have a kind of sign-board hung out to show the apparent abode of wisdom:  but wisdom is another guest who declines the invitation; she is to be found elsewhere.  The chiming of bells, ecclesiastical millinery, attitudes of devotion, insane antics—­these are the pretence, the false show of piety.  And so on.  Everything in the world is like a hollow nut; there is little kernel anywhere, and when it does exist, it is still more rare to find it in the shell.  You may look for it elsewhere, and find it, as a rule, only by chance.

SECTION 2.  To estimate a man’s condition in regard to happiness, it is necessary to ask, not what things please him, but what things trouble him; and the more trivial these things are in themselves, the happier the man will be.  To be irritated by trifles, a man must be well off; for in misfortunes trifles are unfelt.

SECTION 3.  Care should be taken not to build the happiness of life upon a broad foundation—­not to require a great many things in order to be happy.  For happiness on such a foundation is the most easily undermined; it offers many more opportunities for accidents; and accidents are always happening.  The architecture of happiness follows a plan in this respect just the opposite of that adopted in every other case, where the broadest foundation offers the greatest security.  Accordingly, to reduce your claims to the lowest possible degree, in comparison with your means,—­of whatever kind these may be—­is the surest way of avoiding extreme misfortune.

To make extensive preparations for life—­no matter what form they may take—­is one of the greatest and commonest of follies.  Such preparations presuppose, in the first place, a long life, the full and complete term of years appointed to man—­and how few reach it! and even if it be reached, it is still too short for all the plans that have been made; for to carry them out requites more time than was thought necessary at the beginning.  And then how many mischances and obstacles stand in the way! how seldom the goal is ever reached in human affairs!

And lastly, even though the goal should be reached, the changes which Time works in us have been left out of the reckoning:  we forget that the capacity whether for achievement or for enjoyment does not last a whole lifetime.  So we often toil for things which are no longer suited to us when we attain them; and again, the years we spend in preparing for some work, unconsciously rob us of the power for carrying it out.

How often it happens that a man is unable to enjoy the wealth which he acquired at so much trouble and risk, and that the fruits of his labor are reserved for others; or that he is incapable of filling the position which he has won after so many years of toil and struggle.  Fortune has come too late for him; or, contrarily, he has come too late for fortune,—­when, for instance, he wants to achieve great things, say, in art or literature:  the popular taste has changed, it may be; a new generation has grown up, which takes no interest in his work; others have gone a shorter way and got the start of him.  These are the facts of life which Horace must have had in view, when he lamented the uselessness of all advice:—­