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 man has done this, he possesses something which cannot
be wrested from him; and, unlike fame, it is a possession dependent
entirely upon himself. If admiration were his chief aim, there would
be nothing in him to admire. This is just what happens in the case
of false, that is, unmerited, fame; for its recipient lives upon it
without actually possessing the solid substratum of which fame is the
outward and visible sign.
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