“Do you see then in what a slough
crimes are involved, and with what glory honesty shines forth? It is plain from
this that reward is never lacking to good deeds, nor punishment to crime.
“We may justly say that the reward of
every act that is performed is the object for which it is performed. For
instance, on the racecourse the crown for which the runner strives is his
reward. But we have shown that happiness is the identical good for the sake of
which all actions are performed.
“Therefore the absolute good is the
reward put before all human actions. But good men cannot be deprived of this.
And further, a man who lacks good cannot justly be described as a good man;
wherefore we may say that good habits never miss their rewards. Let the wicked
rage never so wildly, the wise man's crown shall never fail nor wither.
“And the wickedness of bad men can
never take away from good men the glory that belongs to them. Whereas if a good
man rejoiced in a glory that he received from outside, then could another, or
even he, maybe, who granted it, carry it away. But since honesty grants to
every good man its own rewards, he will only lack his reward when he ceases to
be good.
“And lastly, since every reward is
sought for the reason that it is held to be good, who shall say that the man,
who possesses goodness, does not receive his reward? And what reward is this?
Surely the fairest and greatest of all.”
—from
Book 4, Prose 3
One of
my most deeply ingrained bad habits, one that is so worked into my responses
that I barely notice it, is what I can only call the expectation of further
reward. I will consciously consider what the right thing to do is, the action
that will respect both my own dignity and the dignity of others, and I will
tell myself that I know good should be done simply because it is good. I feel
certain, as Lady Philosophy says to me, that virtue is its own reward, and that
vice is its own punishment.
I have,
over the years, even managed to start enjoying a just or a kind deed, only from
an awareness of its moral worth. It is a deeply fulfilling satisfaction when
felt sincerely, free of pride or ostentation, and I should be able to find rest
and peace in it.
And
then, as if by some unspoken assumption, I find myself looking for more. Where
is that recognition I deserve? How long until I get some praise to make me feel
special? When will a wonderful new set of gratifying circumstances fall into my
lap as a well-earned prize? I begin to make further demands of Providence, and
by asking for such compensation I have already thrown away whatever decency may
have been in my actions to begin with.
What I
am so foolishly forgetting is that my merit is in what I do, not in what
happens to me, and so my confusion goes to the very heart of how I think about
my own human nature. The Consolation
has been reminding me, time and time again, that happiness is itself the
practice of virtue, precisely because it is the completion of my good, not that
of anyone or anything else.
If
someone else pats me on the back or throws money my way, does that really say
anything about me, or add anything to who I am? Or if such things are withheld
from me, am I any less than I was before? I have clearly not transformed my
values as deeply as I would like to think, if I am still hoping to receive more
than what is already completely mine.
It is
certainly not an excuse, but I can only think of how long I have been hearing
about fortune being some sort of reward for good character. Well, then I must
redouble my efforts, and become all the more conscious of my motives.
If I am
not content with my virtue as an end in itself, but make it a means for some
end of fortune, then I will be quite ready to compromise my virtue for that
higher goal. The good man will give up money for his integrity, but the wicked
man will give up his integrity for money.
If I
worry about losing my happiness, then I do not rightly understand its source
and measure. I cannot lose it, any more than I can cease to be myself, because
it is the sum of my own thoughts and deeds. Only I determine if I will keep it
or throw it away.
If I
become jealous of rich, and powerful, and popular folks, thinking that they
have taken away something that I deserve, I need only remember that such things
are not worthy of envy at all, since they are not human goods. If I look inside
a man’s soul, whether rich or poor, I will see what truly matters.
I
wonder, if I were running a race, what would be most important to me? Would it
be the sparkling crown at the end, and the thunderous roar of the crowd, and
the honor of having my name in all the record books?
Or might
the reward of my own excellence be more than enough, of having raced at my
absolute best, regardless of what trinkets I receive, or who notices it, or if
it is ever a part of history?
I see
more and more that the difference between these two attitudes reflects the difference
between the miserable man and the happy man.
Written in 11/2015
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