man gradually comes to regard meum and tuum in much the same light as cards, and to consider that he may use to the utmost whatever advantages he possesses, so long as he does not come within the arm of the law.  Examples of what I mean are of daily occurrence in mercantile life.  Since, then, leisure is the flower, or rather the fruit, of existence, as it puts a man into possession of himself, those are happy indeed who possess something real in themselves.  But what do you get from most people’s leisure?—­only a good-for-nothing fellow, who is terribly bored and a burden to himself.  Let us, therefore, rejoice, dear brethren, for we are not children of the bondwoman, but of the free.

[Footnote 1:  Translator’s Note.—­Card-playing to this extent is now, no doubt, a thing of the past, at any rate amongst the nations of northern Europe.  The present fashion is rather in favor of a dilettante interest in art or literature.]

Further, as no land is so well off as that which requires few imports, or none at all, so the happiest man is one who has enough in his own inner wealth, and requires little or nothing from outside for his maintenance, for imports are expensive things, reveal dependence, entail danger, occasion trouble, and when all is said and done, are a poor substitute for home produce.  No man ought to expect much from others, or, in general, from the external world.  What one human being can be to another is not a very great deal:  in the end every one stands alone, and the important thing is who it is that stands alone.  Here, then, is another application of the general truth which Goethe recognizes in Dichtung und Wahrheit (Bk.  III.), that in everything a man has ultimately to appeal to himself; or, as Goldsmith puts it in The Traveller: 

  Still to ourselves in every place consign’d
  Our own felicity we make or find.

Himself is the source of the best and most a man can be or achieve.  The more this is so—­the more a man finds his sources of pleasure in himself—­the happier he will be.  Therefore, it is with great truth that Aristotle[1] says, To be happy means to be self-sufficient.  For all other sources of happiness are in their nature most uncertain, precarious, fleeting, the sport of chance; and so even under the most favorable circumstances they can easily be exhausted; nay, this is unavoidable, because they are not always within reach.  And in old age these sources of happiness must necessarily dry up:—­love leaves us then, and wit, desire to travel, delight in horses, aptitude for social intercourse; friends and relations, too, are taken from us by death.  Then more than ever, it depends upon what a man has in himself; for this will stick to him longest; and at any period of life it is the only genuine and lasting source of happiness.  There is not much to be got anywhere in the world.  It is filled with misery and pain; and if a man escapes these, boredom lies