circumstances which go to form its contents.  All the pride and pleasure of the world, mirrored in the dull consciousness of a fool, are poor indeed compared with the imagination of Cervantes writing his Don Quixote in a miserable prison.  The objective half of life and reality is in the hand of fate, and accordingly takes various forms in different cases:  the subjective half is ourself, and in essentials is always remains the same.

Hence the life of every man is stamped with the same character throughout, however much his external circumstances may alter; it is like a series of variations on a single theme.  No one can get beyond his own individuality.  An animal, under whatever circumstances it is placed, remains within the narrow limits to which nature has irrevocably consigned it; so that our endeavors to make a pet happy must always keep within the compass of its nature, and be restricted to what it can feel.  So it is with man; the measure of the happiness he can attain is determined beforehand by his individuality.  More especially is this the case with the mental powers, which fix once for all his capacity for the higher kinds of pleasure.  If these powers are small, no efforts from without, nothing that his fellowmen or that fortune can do for him, will suffice to raise him above the ordinary degree of human happiness and pleasure, half animal though it be; his only resources are his sensual appetite,—­a cozy and cheerful family life at the most,—­low company and vulgar pastime; even education, on the whole, can avail little, if anything, for the enlargement of his horizon.  For the highest, most varied and lasting pleasures are those of the mind, however much our youth may deceive us on this point; and the pleasures of the mind turn chiefly on the powers of the mind.  It is clear, then, that our happiness depends in a great degree upon what we are, upon our individuality, whilst lot or destiny is generally taken to mean only what we have, or our reputation.  Our lot, in this sense, may improve; but we do not ask much of it if we are inwardly rich:  on the other hand, a fool remains a fool, a dull blockhead, to his last hour, even though he were surrounded by houris in paradise.  This is why Goethe, in the West-oestliclien Divan, says that every man, whether he occupies a low position in life, or emerges as its victor, testifies to personality as the greatest factor in happiness:—­

  Volk und Knecht und Uberwinder
    Sie gestehen, zu jeder Zeit,
  Hoechtes Glueck der Erdenkinder
    Sei nur die Persoenlichkeit.