What can be added to the happiness of a man who is in health, out

In the voice of the ancients, let us meditate upon the words of Adam Smith, the sage of moral reason and the father of modern economics, who declared: “What can be added to the happiness of a man who is in health, out of debt, and has a clear conscience?” These are not the words of a merchant counting his coins, but the insight of a philosopher who peered into the heart of human contentment. For in this triad—health, freedom from debt, and inner peace—lies a kingdom greater than any empire of gold or conquest.

Consider first health, the most invisible treasure. When the body is strong, the mind dances freely, and the spirit sings in harmony with the world. But when pain or sickness seizes us, even the splendor of the sun feels dimmed, and all riches lose their taste. Thus, the wise man guards his body as the vessel of his soul. He rises with discipline, eats with moderation, and rests with gratitude. For health is not merely the absence of illness, but the state of balance between body and purpose—a quiet joy in the strength of being alive. The ancients knew this well; in the temples of Asclepius, pilgrims sought healing not through medicine alone, but through renewal of the spirit, for they believed the body suffers when the soul is in discord.

Then comes freedom from debt, that subtle chain which has enslaved more men than iron ever did. To owe is to surrender a portion of one’s peace, for the debtor’s sleep is light, and his dreams are troubled by the shadow of another’s claim. In the days of Rome, debt was a curse that could bind even the nobleman to servitude. Yet, in every age, those who live beyond their means find their hearts bound as tightly as the debtor’s wrists. Adam Smith, who watched the commerce of nations rise and fall, knew that true wealth lies not in possession but in sufficiency—in the art of desiring no more than what sustains the soul. The man who lives within his means walks lighter than the king whose crown is mortgaged to ambition.

But the third and greatest of these gifts is a clear conscience. For what use is health if the heart is heavy with guilt, or freedom if the soul is imprisoned by regret? The conscience is the secret tribunal of the divine within us—it judges not by law, but by truth. When we act with honesty and compassion, the conscience is our loyal friend; when we betray it, it becomes our relentless accuser. History bears witness to this truth. Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome and philosopher upon the throne, held power over nations, yet sought nightly to purify his conscience. “The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts,” he wrote, and so he labored not for conquest, but for inner peace. No tyrant can torment the man whose conscience is clear, for his kingdom lies within, unassailable and serene.

Thus, when Adam Smith asked, “What can be added?” he meant that the foundation of true happiness is already complete in these three pillars. All else—luxury, fame, praise—is but decoration upon the temple. Without these, the structure crumbles; with them, even a simple hut becomes a palace of contentment. The wise do not chase endless wants; they master the art of sufficiency. To have health, freedom, and peace of soul is to stand at the summit of human joy.

Take, then, the example of the humble craftsman of old—poor in gold, yet rich in spirit. He rose each morning with strength in his limbs, owed no man a coin, and faced his work with clean hands and a clean heart. At day’s end, he ate his bread with gratitude, laughed with his children, and slept without fear. Was he less happy than the noble in his marble hall? Nay, perhaps far more. For the noble trembled for his fortune, feared his rivals, and carried guilt like a cloak of lead. But the craftsman—he walked in lightness, for he possessed the three treasures that even kings envy.

Let this teaching, therefore, be carved upon the doors of your heart: guard your health, for it is the vessel of your life; shun unnecessary debt, for it is the silent thief of peace; and keep your conscience clear, for it is your truest companion. Seek not happiness in distant lands or fleeting pleasures—it is within you, awaiting the stillness in which it may bloom. When next you find yourself restless for more, recall this ancient truth: he who has enough, owes nothing, and sleeps without remorse has already touched the summit of the blessed.

And so, children of tomorrow, walk with simplicity. Build your lives upon balance, honesty, and moderation. For the world will tempt you with endless desires, but wisdom whispers softly: nothing can be added to the happiness of one who lives rightly, freely, and well.