come. Without questioning the alleged fact about the alchemists, we
may reply that modern chemistry has dissipated the desire of the
philosopher's stone, but modern civilization has not dissipated the
desire of perfect happiness: it has deepened it, and perhaps rather
obscured the prospect of its fulfilment. A desire that grows with
progress certainly cannot be satisfied by progressing. But if it is
never to be satisfied, what is it? A goad thrust into the side of man,
that shall keep him coursing along from century to century, like Io
under the gadfly, only to find himself in the last century as far from
the mark as in the first. Apart from the hope of the world to come, is
the Italy of to-day happier than the Italy of Antoninus Pius? Here is
a modern Italian's conclusion: "I have studied man, I have examined
nature, I have passed whole nights observing the starry heavens. And
what is the result of these long investigations? Simply this, that the
life of man is nothing; that man himself is nothing; that he will
never penetrate the mystery which surrounds the universe. With this
comfortless conviction I descend into the grave, and console myself
with the hope of speedy annihilation. The lamp goes out; and nothing,
nothing can rekindle it. So, Nature, I return to thee, to be united
with thee for ever. Never wilt thou have received into thy bosom a
more unhappy being." (_La Nullita della Vita_. By G. P., 1882.)

This is an extreme case, but much of modern progress tends this way.
Civilization is not happiness, nor is the desire for happiness other
than vain, if it merely leads to increased civilization.

_Readings_.--St. Thomas, _C. G._, iii., 48; Newman's _Historical
Sketches--Conversion of Augustine_; Mill's _Autobiography_, pp.
133-149.