the law of divine justice—­the worse to the worse, the better to the better, like to like, in life and in death.  And from this law no man will ever boast that he has escaped.  Even if you say—­’I am small, and will creep into the earth,’ or ’I am high, and will mount to heaven’—­you are not so small or so high that you shall not pay the fitting penalty, either here or in the world below.  This is also the explanation of the seeming prosperity of the wicked, in whose actions as in a mirror you imagined that you saw the neglect of the Gods, not considering that they make all things contribute to the whole.  And how then could you form any idea of true happiness?—­If Cleinias and Megillus and I have succeeded in persuading you that you know not what you say about the Gods, God will help you; but if there is still any deficiency of proof, hear our answer to the third opponent.

Enough has been said to prove that the Gods exist and care for us; that they can be propitiated, or that they receive gifts, is not to be allowed or admitted for an instant.  ‘Let us proceed with the argument.’  Tell me, by the Gods, I say, how the Gods are to be propitiated by us?  Are they not rulers, who may be compared to charioteers, pilots, perhaps generals, or physicians providing against the assaults of disease, husbandmen observing the perils of the seasons, shepherds watching their flocks?  To whom shall we compare them?  We acknowledged that the world is full both of good and evil, but having more of evil than of good.  There is an immortal conflict going on, in which Gods and demigods are our allies, and we their property; for injustice and folly and wickedness make war in our souls upon justice and temperance and wisdom.  There is little virtue to be found on earth; and evil natures fawn upon the Gods, like wild beasts upon their keepers, and believe that they can win them over by flattery and prayers.  And this sin, which is termed dishonesty, is to the soul what disease is to the body, what pestilence is to the seasons, what injustice is to states.  ‘Quite so.’  And they who maintain that the Gods can be appeased must say that they forgive the sins of men, if they are allowed to share in their spoils; as you might suppose wolves to mollify the dogs by throwing them a portion of the prey.  ‘That is the argument.’  But let us apply our images to the Gods—­are they the pilots who are won by gifts to wreck their own ships—­or the charioteers who are bribed to lose the race —­or the generals, or doctors, or husbandmen, who are perverted from their duty—­or the dogs who are silenced by wolves?  ‘God forbid.’  Are they not rather our best guardians; and shall we suppose them to fall short even of a moderate degree of human or even canine virtue, which will not betray justice for reward?  ‘Impossible.’  He, then, who maintains such a doctrine, is the most blasphemous of mankind.