s and
pleasure are a _fata morgana_, which, visible from afar, vanish as we
approach; that, on the other hand, suffering and pain are a reality,
which makes its presence felt without any intermediary, and for its
effect, stands in no need of illusion or the play of false hope.

If the teaching of experience bears fruit in us, we soon give up the
pursuit of pleasure and happiness, and think much more about making
ourselves secure against the attacks of pain and suffering. We see
that the best the world has to offer is an existence free from pain--a
quiet, tolerable life; and we confine our claims to this, as to
something we can more surely hope to achieve. For the safest way of
not being very miserable is not to expect to be very happy. Merck, the
friend of Goethe's youth, was conscious of this truth when he
wrote: _It is the wretched way people have of setting up a claim to
happiness_--_and, that to, in a measure corresponding with their
desires_--_that ruins everything in this world. A man will make
progress if he can get rid of this claim,[1] and desire nothing but
what he sees before him_. Accordingly it is advisable to put very
moderate limits upon our expectations of pleasure, possessions, rank,
honor and so on; because it is just this striving and struggling to
be happy, to dazzle the world, to lead a life full of pleasure, which
entail great misfortune. It is prudent and wise, I say, to reduce
one's claims, if only for the reason that it is extremely easy to be
very unhappy; while to be very happy is not indeed difficult, but
quite impossible. With justice sings the poet of life's wisdom:

_Auream quisquis mediocritatem
Diligit, tutus caret obsoleti
Sordibus tecti, caret invidenda
Sobrius aula.
Savius ventis agitatur ingens
Pinus: et celsae graviori casu
Decidunt turres; feriuntque summos
Fulgura monies.[2]_

--the golden mean is best--to live free from the squalor of a mean
abode, and yet not be a mark for envy. It is the tall pine which is
cruelly shaken by the wind, the highest summits that are struck in the
storm, and the lofty towers that fall so heavily.

[Footnote 1: Letters to and from Merck.]

[Footnote 2: Horace. Odes II. x.]

He who has taken to heart the teaching of my philosophy--who knows,
therefore, that our whole existence is something which had better
not have been, and that to disown and disclaim it is the highest
wisdom--he will have no great expectations