For when reason had shown that he is blessed who possesses God, and none of you had resisted this opinion, the question was raised what it seemed to you was meant by possessing God. On this matter, if I remember well, three opinions were expressed. For to some it seemed good that he possesses God who does the things that God wills; certain others said that he possesses God who lives well; but to the rest, God seemed to be present in those in whom that which is called the unclean spirit is not. But perhaps all of you, in differing words, felt one and the same thing. For, if we consider the first two, both everyone who lives well does the things God wills, and everyone who does the things God wills lives well, nor is there anything else to live well
than to do those things that please God — unless something else seems otherwise to you. They assented. But that third view must be considered a little more carefully, for this reason: that, in the practice of the most chaste sacred rites, the 「unclean spirit,」 as far as I understand, is wont to be spoken of in two ways — either that one which invades the soul from without and disturbs the senses and brings a certain madness upon men, for the shutting out of which those who preside are said to 「lay on hands」 or 「exorcize,」 that is, to drive it out by adjuring it through divine things; but in another way every wholly unclean soul is called an unclean spirit, which is nothing other than a soul defiled by vices and errors.
And so I ask of you, you, boy — you who perhaps put forth that opinion with a somewhat more serene and more purified spirit — which seems to you not to have an unclean spirit: is it he who does not have a demon, by which men are wont to be made frenzied, or is it he who has already cleansed his soul from all vices and sins? 「He seems to me,」 he said, 「not to have an unclean spirit who lives chastely.」 「But whom,」 I said, 「do you call chaste? Him who sins in nothing, or only him who abstains from unlawful intercourse?」 「How,」 he said, 「can he be chaste, if, while abstaining only from unlawful intercourse, he does not cease to be defiled by the other sins? He is truly chaste who attends to God and holds himself to Him alone.」
When it had pleased me that the boy's words be written down just as they had been spoken, I said: 「He, then, must necessarily live well, and he who lives well is necessarily such — unless something else seems otherwise to you.」 He conceded, along with the rest. 「Therefore one opinion has here been stated,」 I said. 「But this little thing I ask of you: whether God wills that man should seek God.」 They granted it. 「Likewise I ask: can we by any means say that he who seeks God lives badly?」 「By no means,」 they said. 「Answer also this third point: can an unclean spirit seek God?」 They denied it, though Navigius hesitated somewhat, who afterward yielded to the voices of the rest.
「If, therefore,」 I said, 「he who seeks God does that which God wills, and lives well, and does not have an unclean spirit — but he who seeks God does not yet have God — then it is not the case that whoever either lives well, or does what God wills, or does not have an unclean spirit, is forthwith to be said to possess God.」 Here, when the others laughed at themselves for being deceived by their own concessions, my mother, who had long been dumbfounded, asked me to relax and resolve for her by explanation this very thing which I had said in the constrained manner of a necessary conclusion. When that had been done, she said: 「But no one can arrive at God unless he has sought God.」 「Excellent,」 I said; 「and yet he who still seeks has not yet arrived at God, and already lives well.」
「Therefore not everyone who lives well possesses God.」 「It seems to me,」 she said, 「that no one does not possess God; but those who live well have Him as favorable, those who live badly, as hostile.」 「Badly, then,」 I said, 「did we yesterday concede that he is blessed who possesses God, if indeed every man possesses God, and yet not every man is blessed.」 「Add, then,」 she said, 「'favorable.'」 「At least,」 I said, 「this much is sufficiently established among us: that he is blessed who has God favorable?」 「I would like,」 said Navigius, 「to agree, but I am wary of the man who still seeks — especially lest you conclude that the Academic is blessed, who in yesterday's discourse was named, by a word indeed common and in bad Latin, but nonetheless most apt, as it seems to me, a 'faller' (caducarius).」
「For I cannot say that God is against a man who seeks God. And if it is impious to say this, He will be favorable; and he who has God favorable is blessed. Blessed, therefore, will be he who seeks; but everyone who seeks does not yet have what he wills: therefore a man will be blessed who does not have what he wills.」 This yesterday seemed absurd to us all, whence we believed the darkness of the Academics to have been dispelled. 「Wherefore now Licentius will triumph over me, and will warn me — as a prudent physician — that those sweet things which I rashly took against my health exact these penalties from me.」 Here, when my mother too had smiled, Trygetius said: 「I do not concede that God forthwith opposes one to whom He is not favorable, but I think there is something intermediate.」 To whom I said:
「Yet this intermediate man,」 I said, 「to whom God is neither favorable nor hostile, do you concede that in some way he possesses God?」 Here, when he hesitated, my mother said: 「It is one thing to possess God, another not to be without God.」 「What then,」 I said, 「is better: to possess God, or not to be without God?」 「As far as I can understand,」 she said, 「this is my opinion: he who lives well possesses God, but as favorable; he who lives badly possesses God, but as adverse; but he who still seeks and has not yet found, possesses Him neither as favorable nor as adverse, yet is not without God.」 「Is this,」 I said, 「your opinion too?」 They said it was. 「Tell me, I pray,」 I said, 「does it not seem to you that God is favorable to a man to whom He is well-disposed?」 They confessed that He is.
「Does not God, then,」 I said, 「favor the man who seeks Him?」 They answered that He favors. 「Therefore,」 I said, 「he who seeks God has God favorable, and everyone who has God favorable is blessed. Blessed, then, is also he who seeks. But he who seeks does not yet have what he wills. Therefore he will be blessed who does not have what he wills.」 「By no means,」 said my mother, 「does he seem to me to be blessed who does not have what he wills.」 「Therefore,」 I said, 「not everyone who has God favorable is blessed.」 「If reason compels this,」 she said, 「I cannot deny it.」 「This, then,」 I said, 「will be the distribution: that everyone who has already found God both has God favorable and is blessed, but everyone who seeks God
has God favorable but is not yet blessed; but whoever estranges himself from God by vices and sins, not only is not blessed, but does not even live with God favorable.」 When this had pleased all, I said: 「It is well; but I still fear this, lest you be moved by what we had already conceded above, that whoever was not blessed was wretched; from which it will follow that a man is wretched who [lacks] anyone blessed. Or rather, as Tullius says, shall we, who call men the masters of many estates rich, name the possessors of all the virtues poor? But consider this: whether, just as it is true that everyone in need is wretched, so it is true that everyone wretched is in need.」
For thus it will be true that wretchedness is nothing other than want — which, when it was being said, you perceived that I praised. But this today would be long, for us to inquire; wherefore I ask that it not be irksome to you to gather again at this table tomorrow also. When all had said that they would very gladly do so, we arose. The third day of our discussion had a morning that scattered the clouds which were driving us into the baths, and rendered the afternoon time most bright. It pleased us, then, to go down into the neighborhood of the little meadow; and when all of us had seated ourselves where it seemed convenient, the remaining discourse was carried through thus: 「Almost everything,」 I said, 「that I wished to be conceded to me as I questioned, I have and hold;」
wherefore on this present day, on which at length we can mark off this banquet of ours by some interval of days, there will be, I think, either nothing or not much that it is necessary for you to answer me. For it had been said by my mother that wretchedness is nothing other than want, and it was agreed among us that those who are in want are wretched. But whether all who are wretched are also in want is a certain question, which yesterday we were unable to unfold. But if reason shall have demonstrated that this is so, it has been most perfectly found who is blessed; for he will be the one who is not in want. For everyone not wretched is blessed; therefore he is blessed who is free from want, if it be established that the want of which we speak is the same as wretchedness. For what?
Trygetius said: 「Can it not already be inferred from this — that it is manifest that everyone who is in want is wretched — that everyone not in want is blessed? For I remember that we conceded that there is nothing intermediate between the wretched and the blessed.」 「Does there seem to you,」 I said, 「to be anything intermediate between the dead and the living? Is not every man either living or dead?」 「I confess,」 he said, 「that here too there is nothing intermediate; but to what end is that?」 「Because,」 I said, 「I believe you also confess this: that everyone who was buried a year ago is dead.」 He did not deny it. 「What? Does everyone who was not buried a year ago live?」 「It does not follow,」 he said.
「Therefore,」 I said, 「it does not follow that, if everyone who is in want is wretched, everyone who is not in want is blessed — although between the wretched and the blessed, as between the living and the dead, nothing intermediate can be found.」 When some of them had understood this a little too slowly, I opening and turning it over with such words adapted, as far as I could, to their understanding, I said: 「Therefore no one doubts that everyone who is in want is wretched; nor do certain things necessary to the body of the wise man alarm us. The soul itself does not lack them — the soul in which the blessed life is placed. For it is itself perfect; but nothing perfect lacks anything, and what seems necessary to the body it will take, if it be at hand; if it be not at hand, the lack of these things will not break it.」
For every wise man is brave, and no brave man fears anything: therefore the wise man does not fear either the death of the body or pains, for the repelling or avoiding or deferring of which those things are necessary, the lack of which can befall him. Yet nonetheless he does not cease to use them well, if they themselves are not lacking. For most true is that saying: 「For what you can avoid, it is folly to admit.」 He will therefore avoid death and pain, as far as he can and as far as is fitting, lest — if he should by no means avoid them — he be wretched not from the fact that these things happen, but because, when he could avoid them, he was unwilling; which is a manifest sign of folly. That man, then, not avoiding them, will be wretched not from the endurance of those things, but from folly.
But if he shall not have been able to avoid it, when he has striven for it diligently and becomingly, those things rushing in upon him will not make him wretched. For that other saying of the same comic poet is no less true: 「Since that cannot be done which you will, will that which you can.」 How will he be wretched, to whom nothing happens contrary to his will, since he cannot will what he sees cannot come about for him? For he has a will fixed on the most certain of things — that is, that whatever he does he does only by a certain prescript of virtue and by the divine law of wisdom, which can by no compact be snatched from him. Now, then, see whether everyone also who is wretched is in want.
For that which makes it difficult to concede this opinion is the fact that many, set in a great abundance of fortuitous things — to whom all things are so easy that at their nod whatever desire demands is ready to hand — this life is indeed difficult. But let us imagine, nonetheless, some such man as Tullius says Orata was. For who could easily say that Orata labored under want — a most wealthy man, most delightful, most luxurious, to whom nothing was lacking, neither for pleasure, nor for favor, nor for good and unimpaired health?
For he abounded, as much as he pleased, both in most profitable estates and in most delightful friends, and he used all these most aptly for the health of his body; and — to unfold the whole briefly — a prosperous success attended his every undertaking and every wish. But perhaps some one of you will say that he wished to have more than he had. This we do not know. But — what is sufficient for the question — let us grant that he did not desire more than he held: does it seem to you that he was in want? 「Even if I should concede,」 said Licentius, 「that he desired nothing more — which in a man who is not wise I know not how I may accept — nonetheless he feared (for he was, as they say, of no mean intelligence) lest all those things should be snatched from him by even a single adverse assault.」
「For it was no great matter to understand that all such things, however great they were, were set beneath the sway of chance.」 Then I, smiling, said: 「You see, Licentius, that this most fortunate man was hindered from the blessed life by the goodness of his intelligence. For the sharper he was, the more he saw that he could lose all those things; and by that fear he was broken, and he confirmed that common saying well enough — that the untrustworthy man is shrewd to his own hurt.」 Here, when both he and the rest had smiled, I said: 「Yet let us attend to this more carefully: because, even if he feared, he was not in want — whence the question arises. For to be in want is to be in the not-having, not in the fear of losing the things you have. But that man was wretched because he feared, although he was not in want. Therefore not everyone who is wretched is in want.」
When she too, along with the rest — she whose opinion I was defending — had approved this, yet still doubting somewhat, she said: 「I do not know, and I do not yet plainly understand, how wretchedness can be separated from want, or want from wretchedness. For even that man, who was rich and wealthy and, as you say, desired nothing more — nonetheless, because he feared lest he lose it, was in want of wisdom. Shall we, then, call him needy if he were in want of silver and money, but not say so when he was in want of wisdom?」 When all had cried out in wonder — and I myself was no little cheered and gladdened, because this had been said, of all people, by her, the very thing which I had prepared to bring forth as something great and final from the books of the philosophers:
「Do you not see,」 I said, 「that it is one thing to have many and varied doctrines, another to have a mind most attentive to God? For whence do these things which we marvel at proceed, if not from thence?」 Here Licentius, exclaiming joyfully, said: 「Absolutely nothing truer, nothing more divine, could have been said. For there is no greater and more pitiable want than to be in want of wisdom; and he who is not in want of wisdom can be in want of nothing whatever.」 「Therefore the want of the soul,」 I said, 「is nothing other than folly. For this is the contrary of wisdom, and so contrary as death is to life, as the blessed life to the wretched — that is, without any intermediate. For as every man not blessed is wretched, and every man not dead lives, so it is manifest that everyone not foolish is wise.」
From which it is now permitted also to see this: that Sergius Orata was wretched not only from the fact that he feared lest he lose those gifts of fortune, but because he was foolish. Whence it comes about that he would have been more wretched, if amid these things so pendent and wavering, which he thought good, he had feared nothing at all. For he would have been more secure not by the watchfulness of fortitude but by the sleep of the mind, and, plunged in a deeper folly, more wretched. But if everyone who lacks wisdom suffers a great want, and everyone who possesses wisdom lacks nothing, it follows that folly is want. And as every fool is wretched, so every wretched man is foolish. Therefore, as all want is wretchedness, so all wretchedness is proved to be want. When Trygetius said that he had understood this conclusion too little:
「What,」 I said, 「has been agreed among us by reason?」 「That he is in want,」 he said, 「who does not have wisdom.」 「What, then,」 I said, 「is it to be in want?」 「To not have wisdom.」 「What is it,」 I said, 「to not have wisdom?」 When here he was silent, I said: 「Is not this to have folly?」 「It is,」 he said. 「Therefore,」 I said, 「to have want is nothing other than to have folly; from which it is now necessary that want be named by another word, since it is named folly — although I know not how we may say 'he has want' or 'he has folly.' For it is just as if we should say that some place which lacks light 'has darkness,' which is nothing other than to not have light.」
For darkness does not, as it were, come or recede; but to lack light — this very thing is already to be in darkness, just as to lack clothing is to be naked. For nakedness does not, as though it were some movable thing, flee at the approach of clothing. So, then, we say that someone 「has want,」 as if we said he 「has nakedness.」 For want is a word of not-having. Wherefore — that I may explain what I mean, as best I can — 「he has want」 is said just as if it were said 「he has a not-having.」 And so, if folly itself has been shown to be the true and certain want, see now whether the question we had undertaken has been resolved. For it was doubted among us whether, when we call it wretchedness, we were naming nothing other than want.
But we have given the reason why folly is rightly called want. As, therefore, every fool is wretched and every wretched man is foolish, so it is necessary that we confess not only that everyone who is in want is wretched, but also that everyone who is wretched is in want. But if, from the fact that both every fool is wretched and every wretched man is foolish, it is concluded that folly is wretchedness — why do we not, from the fact that both whoever is in want is wretched and whoever is wretched is in want, conclude that wretchedness is nothing other than want? When all confessed that this was so, I said: 「This now follows: that we see who is not in want; for he will be the one who is wise and blessed. But want is folly, and it is the name of want;」
but this word is wont to signify a certain sterility and lack. Attend, then, more deeply, with how great care by men of old either all words, or — what is manifest — certain words were created, especially of those things the knowledge of which was most necessary. For now you concede that every fool is in want, and that everyone who is in want is foolish; I believe you also concede that a foolish soul is vicious, and that all the vices of the soul are included under the one name of folly. But on the first day of this discussion of ours, we had said that 'worthlessness' (nequitia) was so called from the fact that it is 'nothing-worthy' (necquicquam), to which the contrary 'frugality' (frugalitas) was named from 'fruit' (frux). Therefore in these two contraries — that is, frugality and worthlessness — those two things seem to stand out: to be and not to be.
But to want, concerning which the question is, what do we think is the contrary? Here, when they hesitated somewhat, Trygetius said: 「If I should say riches, I see that poverty is contrary to these.」 「It is indeed,」 I said, 「something akin; for poverty and want are wont to be taken as one and the same. Yet another word must be found, lest the better part be without a single term — so that, whereas that part abounds in the name of poverty and want, from this part only the name of riches be set in opposition. For nothing is more absurd than that there be here a want of a term, where there is the part contrary to want.」 「Fullness (plenitudo),」 said Licentius, 「if it may be so said, seems to me rightly opposed to want.」 「Afterward,」 I said, 「we will inquire about the word perhaps more diligently;」
for this is not to be fussed over in the search for truth. For although Sallust, a most choice weigher of words, opposed 「opulence」 (opulentia) to want, nonetheless I accept this 「fullness.」 For neither here shall we be freed from the dread of the grammarians, nor is it to be feared lest we be chastised by them for using words carelessly — we who gave them their own possessions to use. Where, when they had smiled, I said: 「Therefore, because I have resolved not to despise your minds, when you are intent upon God, as certain oracles, let us see what this name means for itself; for I judge that none is more suited to truth. Fullness, then, and want are contraries;」
but here too, similarly as in worthlessness and frugality, those two things appear — to be and not to be — and, if want is folly itself, fullness will be wisdom. Deservedly, too, have many called frugality the mother of all the virtues. Agreeing with whom, Tullius also, in a public oration, says: 「Let each take it as he will; I nonetheless judge frugality — that is, moderation and temperance — the greatest virtue」: most learnedly and most fittingly. For he considered 'fruit' (frux) — that is, that which we say 'to be,' whose contrary is 'not to be.' But on account of the common custom of speaking, by which frugality is wont to be called, as it were, thrift, he illustrated what he meant by adding two consequent terms: moderation and temperance;
and let us attend to these two words more diligently. Moderation (modestia) is assuredly named from 「measure」 (modus), and temperance (temperantia) from 「temper」 (temperies). But where there is measure and temper, there is nothing either more or less. This, then, is that very fullness which we had set as contrary to want — much better than if we had set 「abundance.」 For in abundance is understood an affluence and, as it were, an outpouring of a thing overflowing to excess. And when this comes about beyond what is enough, there too measure is wanting, and the thing that is excessive is in want of measure. Therefore want is not alien even from redundancy itself, whereas from measure both more and less are alien. Opulence too, if you examine it, you will find to hold nothing other than measure. For opulence (opulentia) is named only from 「help」 (ops).
但那過多之物又如何幫助人呢——既然它往往比過少更為不便？因此，凡是過少或過多的，因它匱乏尺度，便都受制於匱乏。那麼，靈魂的尺度就是智慧。因為不容否認，智慧與愚蠢相對，而愚蠢就是匱乏，與匱乏相對的是豐盈：所以智慧就是豐盈。但豐盈之中有尺度：因此，尺度存於靈魂之中、存於智慧之中。由此便有那句名言——並非不當地廣為流傳：「這是人生中首要有益之事，就是凡事不可過度（ne quid nimis）。」但我們在今日討論的開端曾說過，若我們發現悲慘無非就是匱乏，我們便會承認那不匱乏的人是有福的。而如今已經發現了。
But how does that which is excessive help, when it is often more inconvenient than too little? Whatever, therefore, is either too little or too much, because it is in want of measure, is subject to want. Measure, then, of the soul is wisdom. For it is not denied that wisdom is contrary to folly, and folly is want, and to want the contrary is fullness: therefore wisdom is fullness. But in fullness is measure: measure, therefore, is in the soul in wisdom. Whence that famous saying — and not undeservedly noised abroad — is: 「This is the first useful thing in life, that nothing be in excess (ne quid nimis).」 But we had said, in the opening of today's discussion, that if we should find wretchedness to be nothing other than want, we would confess him to be blessed who was not in want. And it has been found.
Therefore to be blessed is nothing other than not to be in want — that is, to be wise. But if you ask what wisdom is, reason has already, as far as at present it could, unfolded and brought it forth: for it is nothing other than the measure of the soul — that is, that by which the soul balances itself, so that it neither runs out into excess nor is contracted below what is full. But it runs out into luxuries, dominations, prides, and the rest of that kind, by which the souls of the immoderate and wretched suppose that joys and powers are procured for themselves. And it is contracted by sordidness, fears, grief, cupidity, and whatever else there is, by which men, wretched themselves, confess that men are wretched.
But when it contemplates wisdom, once found, and — to use this boy's word — holds itself to it, and is not turned aside by any emptiness to the deceit of images (whose weight, once embraced, is wont to make one fall away from one's God and sink down), it dreads nothing of immoderation, and therefore nothing of want, therefore nothing of wretchedness. Therefore whoever is blessed has his own measure — that is, wisdom. But what is to be called wisdom except the wisdom of God? And we have also received, on divine authority, that the Son of God is nothing other than the Wisdom of God; and the Son of God is assuredly God. Therefore whoever is blessed possesses God — which already before pleased all of us, when we entered upon this banquet.
But what do you think wisdom is, except truth? For this too has been said: 「I am the Truth.」 But that truth may be, it comes about through some supreme measure, from which it proceeds and into which, made perfect, it turns itself back. But upon the supreme measure itself no other measure is imposed; for if the supreme measure is a measure through the supreme measure, it is a measure through itself. But it is also necessary that the supreme measure be the true measure. As, therefore, truth is begotten by measure, so measure is known by truth. Neither, therefore, has truth ever been without measure, nor measure without truth. Who is the Son of God? It has been said: the Truth. Who is He that has no father? Who other than the supreme Measure? Whoever, therefore, shall have come to the supreme Measure through the Truth is blessed.
This is, for souls, to possess God — that is, to enjoy God. For other things, although they are possessed from God, do not possess God. But a certain admonition, which acts with us that we may remember God, that we may seek Him, that we may thirst for Him with all disdain driven off, flows to us from the very Fountain of Truth. This that hidden Sun pours into our inner lights. Of this is everything true that we speak, even when, with eyes still either not sound enough or suddenly opened, we tremble to turn ourselves boldly and to gaze upon the whole; and this too appears to be nothing other than God, perfect with no degeneration impeding. For there all and every whole is perfect, and at the same time He is the most omnipotent God.
But nonetheless, as long as we seek — not yet sated by the Fountain itself and (to use that word) by fullness — let us confess that we have not yet come to our own measure; and therefore, although already with God's help, we are nonetheless not yet wise and blessed. That, then, is the full satiety of souls — that is, the blessed life: to know, piously and perfectly, by whom you are led into truth, what truth you enjoy, through what you are joined to the supreme measure. These three show forth, to those who understand, one God and one substance, all the vanities of the various superstition being excluded. Here my mother, recognizing the words which clung deep in her memory, and as though awaking into her own faith, joyfully poured forth that verse of our priest: 「Foster those who pray, O Trinity,」 and added:
「This, with none doubting, is the blessed life, which is the perfect life, to which — hastening toward it — we must presume that we can be brought by solid faith, lively hope, and burning charity.」 「Therefore,」 I said, 「since the measure itself admonishes us to mark off our banquet also by some interval of days, I give thanks, as great as with my strength I can, to the supreme and true God, the Father, the Lord and Deliverer of souls; and then to you, who, harmoniously invited, have even heaped me with many gifts. For you contributed so much to our discourse that I cannot deny that I have been sated by my own guests.」 Here, when all rejoiced and praised God, Trygetius said: 「How I could wish that you would feed us in this manner every day!」