Reward and Punishment Are Built In

"Do you see, then, in how great a mire base deeds are rolled, and with what light uprightness shines? In this it is plain that rewards are never lacking to the good, nor their own punishments to crimes. For of things that are done, that for the sake of which each thing is done can, not unjustly, be seen as the reward of that same thing — just as, in running in the stadium, the crown for which one runs lies as the prize. But we have shown that blessedness is that very good for the sake of which all things are done. The good itself, then, is set before human actions as a kind of common reward. And this cannot be separated from the good; for he will no longer rightly be called good who lacks the good. Therefore upright characters are not abandoned by their rewards. However greatly, then, the bad may rage, the crown of the wise man will not fall, nor wither. For another's wickedness does not pluck away from upright souls their proper honor. But if he rejoiced in something received from outside, then someone else, or even the very one who had bestowed it, could take it away. But since it is his own uprightness that confers it on each, he will lack his reward only when he has ceased to be upright. Finally, since every reward is sought because it is believed to be good, who would judge the one who possesses the good to be without a reward?

"But of what reward? Of the fairest and greatest of all. For remember that corollary which a little while ago I gave as the chief one, and gather thus: since the good itself is blessedness, it is plain that all the good become blessed by this very fact, that they are good. But those who are blessed, it is agreed, are gods. The reward of the good, then — which no day can wear away, no man's power diminish, no man's wickedness darken — is to become gods.

"Since this is so, the wise man cannot doubt also of the inseparable punishment of the bad. For since good and evil, and likewise punishment and reward, stand opposed face to face, the things we see attending the reward of the good must necessarily, on the contrary side, answer in the punishment of evil. As, then, uprightness itself becomes the reward of the upright, so wickedness itself is the punishment of the wicked. And indeed whoever is afflicted with punishment does not doubt that he is afflicted with an evil. If, then, they should be willing to judge themselves, can they seem to themselves free from punishment, whom wickedness — the utmost of all evils — has not only afflicted but vehemently infected?

"But look, on the opposite side from the good, at the punishment that accompanies the wicked. You learned a little while ago that everything that exists is one, and that the one itself is the good; from which it follows that everything that exists is also seen to be good. In this way, then, whatever falls away from the good ceases to exist; and so it comes about that the bad cease to be what they had been. But that they were once men, the very remaining shape of the human body shows. Therefore, turned to wickedness, they have also lost human nature. But since uprightness alone can carry anyone beyond human estate, it must be that wickedness thrusts below the deserts of a man those whom it has cast down from the human condition. It happens, then, that one whom you see transformed by vices you cannot reckon a man. Does a violent plunderer of others' wealth burn with greed? You would call him like a wolf. Is one fierce and restless, exercising his tongue in quarrels? You will compare him to a dog. Does a hidden plotter rejoice to have stolen by deceit? Let him be ranked with the little foxes. Does one rage, unable to govern his anger? Let him be believed to bear the soul of a lion. Is one fearful and apt to flee, dreading things not to be feared? Let him be held like the deer. Is one sluggish and stupid, lying torpid? He lives an ass's life. Is one fickle and inconstant, forever changing his pursuits? He differs in nothing from the birds. Is one sunk in foul and unclean lusts? He is held fast by the pleasure of the filthy sow. So it comes about that one who, having forsaken uprightness, has ceased to be a man, since he cannot cross over into the divine condition, is turned into a beast."

'Thou seest, then, in what foulness unrighteous deeds are sunk, with what splendour righteousness shines. Whereby it is manifest that goodness never lacks its reward, nor crime its punishment. For, verily, in all manner of transactions that for the sake of which the particular action is done may justly be accounted the reward of that action, even as the wreath for the sake of which the race is run is the reward offered for running. Now, we have shown happiness to be that very good for the sake of which all things are done. Absolute good, then, is offered as the common prize, as it were, of all human actions. But, truly, this is a reward from which it is impossible to separate the good man, for one who is without good cannot properly be called good at all; wherefore righteous dealing never misses its reward. Rage the wicked, then, never so violently, the crown shall not fall from the head of the wise, nor wither. Verily, other men's unrighteousness cannot pluck from righteous souls their proper glory. Were the reward in which the soul of the righteous delighteth received from without, then might it be taken away by him who gave it, or some other; but since it is conferred by his own righteousness, then only will he lose his prize when he has ceased to be righteous. Lastly, since every prize is desired because it is believed to be good, who can account him who possesses good to be without reward? And what a prize, the fairest and grandest of all! For remember the corollary which I chiefly insisted on a little while back, and reason thus: Since absolute good is happiness, 'tis clear that all the good must be happy for the very reason that they are good. But it was agreed that those who are happy are gods. So, then, the prize of the good is one which no time may impair, no man's power lessen, no man's unrighteousness tarnish; 'tis very Godship. And this being so, the wise man cannot doubt that punishment is inseparable from the bad. For since good and bad, and likewise reward and punishment, are contraries, it necessarily follows that, corresponding to all that we see accrue as reward of the good, there is some penalty attached as punishment of evil. As, then, righteousness itself is the reward of the righteous, so wickedness itself is the punishment of the unrighteous. Now, no one who is visited with punishment doubts that he is visited with evil. Accordingly, if they were but willing to weigh their own case, could they think themselves free from punishment whom wickedness, worst of all evils, has not only touched, but deeply tainted?

'See, also, from the opposite standpoint—the standpoint of the good—what a penalty attends upon the wicked. Thou didst learn a little since that whatever is is one, and that unity itself is good. Accordingly, by this way of reckoning, whatever falls away from goodness ceases to be; whence it comes to pass that the bad cease to be what they were, while only the outward aspect is still left to show they have been men. Wherefore, by their perversion to badness, they have lost their true human nature. Further, since righteousness alone can raise men above the level of humanity, it must needs be that unrighteousness degrades below man's level those whom it has cast out of man's estate. It results, then, that thou canst not consider him human whom thou seest transformed by vice. The violent despoiler of other men's goods, enflamed with covetousness, surely resembles a wolf. A bold and restless spirit, ever wrangling in law-courts, is like some yelping cur. The secret schemer, taking pleasure in fraud and stealth, is own brother to the fox. The passionate man, phrenzied with rage, we might believe to be animated with the soul of a lion. The coward and runaway, afraid where no fear is, may be likened to the timid deer. He who is sunk in ignorance and stupidity lives like a dull ass. He who is light and inconstant, never holding long to one thing, is for all the world like a bird. He who wallows in foul and unclean lusts is sunk in the pleasures of a filthy hog. So it comes to pass that he who by forsaking righteousness ceases to be a man cannot pass into a Godlike condition, but actually turns into a brute beast.'