n if they have every reason to do so, are slow
to express their sentiments. Hence he is the happiest man who, no
matter how, manages sincerely to admire himself--so long as other
people leave him alone.]

But, as I explained at the beginning of this chapter, an
unreasonable value is set upon other people's opinion, and one quite
disproportionate to its real worth. Hobbes has some strong remarks on
this subject; and no doubt he is quite right. _Mental pleasure_, he
writes, _and ecstacy of any kind, arise when, on comparing ourselves
with others, we come to the conclusion that we may think well of
ourselves_. So we can easily understand the great value which is
always attached to fame, as worth any sacrifices if there is the
slightest hope of attaining it.

_Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise_
_(That hath infirmity of noble mind)_
_To scorn delights and live laborious days_[1]

And again:

_How hard it is to climb
The heights where Fame's proud temple shines afar_!

[Footnote 1: Milton. _Lycidas_.]

We can thus understand how it is that the vainest people in the world
are always talking about _la gloire_, with the most implicit faith in
it as a stimulus to great actions and great works. But there can he no
doubt that fame is something secondary in its character, a mere echo
or reflection--as it were, a shadow or symptom--of merit: and, in
any case, what excites admiration must be of more value than the
admiration itself. The truth is that a man is made happy, not by fame,
but by that which brings him fame, by his merits, or to speak more
correctly, by the disposition and capacity from which his merits
proceed, whether they be moral or intellectual. The best side of a
man's nature must of necessity be more important for him than for
anyone else: the reflection of it, the opinion which exists in the
heads of others, is a matter that can affect him only in a very
subordinate degree. He who deserves fame without getting it possesses
by far the more important element of happiness, which should console
him for the loss of the other. It is not that a man is thought to be
great by masses of incompetent and often infatuated people, but that
he really is great, which should move us to envy his position; and his
happiness lies, not in the fact that posterity will hear of him, but
that he is the creator of thoughts worthy to be treasured up and
studied for hundreds of years.

Besides, if a ma