Nor is this all.  By way of providing a substitute for real—­I mean intellectual—­superiority, which is seldom to be met with, and intolerable when it is found, society has capriciously adopted a false kind of superiority, conventional in its character, and resting upon arbitrary principles,—­a tradition, as it were, handed down in the higher circles, and, like a password, subject to alteration; I refer to bon-ton fashion.  Whenever this kind of superiority comes into collision with the real kind, its weakness is manifest.  Moreover, the presence of good tone means the absence of good sense.

No man can be in perfect accord with any one but himself—­not even with a friend or the partner of his life; differences of individuality and temperament are always bringing in some degree of discord, though it may be a very slight one.  That genuine, profound peace of mind, that perfect tranquillity of soul, which, next to health, is the highest blessing the earth can give, is to be attained only in solitude, and, as a permanent mood, only in complete retirement; and then, if there is anything great and rich in the man’s own self, his way of life is the happiest that may be found in this wretched world.

Let me speak plainly.  However close the bond of friendship, love, marriage—­a man, ultimately, looks to himself, to his own welfare alone; at most, to his child’s too.  The less necessity there is for you to come into contact with mankind in general, in the relations whether of business or of personal intimacy, the better off you are.  Loneliness and solitude have their evils, it is true; but if you cannot feel them all at once, you can at least see where they lie; on the other hand, society is insidious in this respect; as in offering you what appears to be the pastime of pleasing social intercourse, it works great and often irreparable mischief.  The young should early be trained to bear being left alone; for it is a source of happiness and peace of mind.

It follows from this that a man is best off if he be thrown upon his own resources and can be all in all to himself; and Cicero goes so far as to say that a man who is in this condition cannot fail to be very happy—­nemo potest non beatissimus esse qui est totus aptus ex sese, quique in se uno ponit omnia.[1] The more a man has in himself, the less others can be to him.  The feeling of self-sufficiency! it is that which restrains those whose personal value is in itself great riches, from such considerable sacrifices as are demanded by intercourse with the world, let alone, then, from actually practicing self-denial by going out of their way to seek it.  Ordinary people are sociable and complaisant just from the very opposite feeling;—­to bear others’ company is easier for them than to bear their own.  Moreover, respect is not paid in this world to that which has real merit; it is reserved for that which has none.  So retirement is at once a proof and a result of being distinguished by the possession of meritorious qualities.  It will therefore show real wisdom on the part of any one who is worth anything in himself, to limit his requirements as may be necessary, in order to preserve or extend his freedom, and,—­since a man must come into some relations with his fellow-men—­to admit them to his intimacy as little as possible.