'Ye, too, creatures of earth, have some glimmering of your origin, however faint, and though in a vision dim and clouded, yet in some wise, notwithstanding, ye discern the true end of happiness, and so the aim of nature leads you thither—to that true good—while error in many forms leads you astray therefrom. For reflect whether men are able to win happiness by those means through which they think to reach the proposed end. Truly, if either wealth, rank, or any of the rest, bring with them anything of such sort as seems to have nothing wanting to it that is good, we, too, acknowledge that some are made happy by the acquisition of these things. But if they are not able to fulfil their promises, and, moreover, lack many good things, is not the happiness men seek in them clearly discovered to be a false show? Therefore do I first ask thee thyself, who but lately wert living in affluence, amid all that abundance of wealth, was thy mind never troubled in consequence of some wrong done to thee?'
'Nay,' said I, 'I cannot ever remember a time when my mind was so completely at peace as not to feel the pang of some uneasiness.'
'Was it not because either something was absent which thou wouldst not have absent, or present which thou wouldst have away?'
'Yes,' said I.
'Then, thou didst want the presence of the one, the absence of the other?'
'Admitted.'
'But a man lacks that of which he is in want?'
'He does.'
'And he who lacks something is not in all points self-sufficing?'
'No; certainly not,' said I.
'So wert thou, then, in the plenitude of thy wealth, supporting this insufficiency?'
'I must have been.'
'Wealth, then, cannot make its possessor independent and free from all want, yet this was what it seemed to promise. Moreover, I think this also well deserves to be considered—that there is nothing in the special nature of money to hinder its being taken away from those who possess it against their will.'
'I admit it.'
'Why, of course, when every day the stronger wrests it from the weaker without his consent. Else, whence come lawsuits, except in seeking to recover moneys which have been taken away against their owner's will by force or fraud?'
'True,' said I.
'Then, everyone will need some extraneous means of protection to keep his money safe.'
'Who can venture to deny it?'
'Yet he would not, unless he possessed the money which it is possible to lose.'
'No; he certainly would not.'
'Then, we have worked round to an opposite conclusion: the wealth which was thought to make a man independent rather puts him in need of further protection. How in the world, then, can want be driven away by riches? Cannot the rich feel hunger? Cannot they thirst? Are not the limbs of the wealthy sensitive to the winter's cold? "But," thou wilt say, "the rich have the wherewithal to sate their hunger, the means to get rid of thirst and cold." True enough; want can thus be soothed by riches, wholly removed it cannot be. For if this ever-gaping, ever-craving want is glutted by wealth, it needs must be that the want itself which can be so glutted still remains. I do not speak of how very little suffices for nature, and how for avarice nothing is enough. Wherefore, if wealth cannot get rid of want, and makes new wants of its own, how can ye believe that it bestows independence?'
A new modern English rendering, made from the Latin with AI assistance — a reading aid, not a scholarly edition.
"You too, O creatures of earth, dream, though in a faint image, of your own origin; and however dimly, with whatever sort of thought, you still look toward that true end of happiness. And so your natural inclination leads you toward the true good, while manifold error leads you away from it.
"Consider, then, whether by the things through which people think they will obtain happiness they are able to reach the destined end. For if money or honors or anything else of the kind can bring it about that nothing of the goods seems lacking, then let us too admit that some become happy by gaining these. But if they can do no such thing as they promise, and lack many goods, isn't a false appearance of happiness plainly caught in them?
"First, then, I ask you yourself, who a little while ago overflowed with riches: amid all that vast abundance, did anxiety arising from some wrong never confuse your mind?"
"Indeed," I said, "I cannot recall ever being so free in mind that something did not always trouble me."
"Was it not because either something was absent that you did not want absent, or something was present that you did not want present?"
"That is so," I said.
"So you longed for the presence of the one, the absence of the other?"
"I admit it," I said.
"But a person lacks the thing he longs for?"
"He lacks it," I said.
"And whoever lacks something is not in every way sufficient unto himself."
"He is not," I said.
"So you bore this insufficiency even when full of wealth?"
"Why not?" I said.
"So riches cannot make a person needing nothing and sufficient unto himself—and yet this is what they seemed to promise. Moreover, I think this also is most worth considering: that money has nothing in its own nature to keep it from being taken away, against their will, from those who possess it."
"I admit it," I said.
"How could you not admit it, when every day someone stronger snatches it from the unwilling? For where do lawsuits come from, if not because money that has been taken away by force or fraud is sought back by the unwilling?"
"That is so," I said.
"So a person will need outside protection to guard his own money."
"Who would deny it?" I said.
"But he would not need it unless he possessed money that he could lose."
"That cannot be doubted," I said.
"So the matter has fallen back into its opposite: for the wealth that was thought to make people self-sufficient instead makes them need the protection of another. And what is the manner in which want is driven away by riches? Surely the rich cannot fail to feel hunger? Cannot they feel thirst? Do the limbs of the wealthy not feel the winter's cold? But the rich, you will say, have the means to satisfy hunger, to drive off thirst and cold. Yet in this way want can indeed be consoled by riches, but it cannot be wholly taken away. For if this want, always gaping and demanding something, is filled by wealth, then some want must remain that can be filled. I say nothing of how little is enough for nature, how nothing is enough for greed. So if riches can neither remove want nor make their own, what reason is there for you to believe they confer self-sufficiency?"