L. Annaeus Seneca on Benefits
himself to his friend, and thinks it worthwhile that his friend should
be unhappy, in order that he may prove his gratitude. This very wish
makes him ungrateful, for he wishes to rid himself of his gratitude as
though it were a heavy burden. In returning a kindness it makes a great
difference whether you are eager to bestow a benefit, or merely to free
yourself from a debt. He who wishes to return a benefit will study his
friend's interests, and will hope that a suitable occasion will arise;
he who only wishes to free himself from an obligation will be eager to
do so by any means whatever, which shows very bad feeling. "Do you say,"
we may be asked, "that eagerness to repay kindness belongs to a morbid
feeling of gratitude?" I cannot explain my meaning more clearly than
by repeating what I have already said. You do not want to repay, but to
escape from the benefit which you have received. You seem to say, "When
shall I get free from this obligation? I must strive by any means in my
power to extinguish my debt to him." You would be thought to be far from
grateful, if you wished to pay a debt to him with his own money; yet
this wish of yours is even more unjust; for you invoke curses upon him,
and call down terrible imprecations upon the head of one who ought to
be held sacred by you. No one, I suppose, would have any doubt of your
wickedness if you were openly to pray that he might suffer poverty,
captivity, hunger, or fear; yet what is the difference between openly
praying for some of these things, and silently wishing for them? for
you do wish for some of these. Go, and enjoy your belief that this is
gratitude, to do what not even an ungrateful man would do, supposing he
confined himself to repudiating the benefit, and did not go so far as to
hate his benefactor.
XXXVI. Who would call Aeneas pious, if he wished that his native
city might be captured, in order that he might save his father from
captivity? Who would point to the Sicilian youths as good examples for
his children, if they had prayed that Aetna might flame with unusual
heat and pour forth a vast mass of fire in order to afford them an
opportunity of displaying their filial affection by rescuing their
parents from the midst of the conflagration? Rome owes Scipio nothing
if he kept the Punic War alive in order that he might have the glory of
finishing it; she owes nothing to the Decii if they prayed for public
disasters, to give themselves an opportunity of displaying their brave
self-devotion. It is the greatest scandal for a physician to make work
for himself; and many who have aggravated the diseases of their patients
that they may have the greater credit for curing them, have either
failed to cure them, at all or have done so at the cost of the most
terrible suffering to their victims.
XXXVII. It is said (at any rate Hecaton tells us) that when Callistratus
with many others was driven into exile by his factious and licentiously
free country, some one prayed that such trouble might befall the
Athenians that they would be forced to recall the exiles, on hearing
which, he prayed that God might forbid his return upon such terms. When
some one tried to console our own countryman, Rutilius, for his exile,
pointing out that civil war was at hand, and that all exiles would soon
be restored to Rome, he answered with even greater spirit, "What harm
have I done you, that you should wish that I may return to my country
more unhappily than I quit it? My wish is, that my country should blush
at my being banished, rather than that she should mourn at my having
returned." An exile, of which every one is more ashamed than the
sufferer, is not exile at all. These two persons, who did not wish to be
restored to their homes at the cost of a public disaster, but preferred
that two should suffer unjustly than that all should suffer alike, are
thought to have acted like good citizens; and in like manner it does not
accord with the character of a grateful man, to wish that his benefactor
may fall into troubles which he may dispel; because, even though he may
mean well to him, yet he wishes him evil. To put out a fire which you
yourself have lighted, will not even gain acquittal for you, let alone
credit.
XXXVIII. In some states an evil wish was regarded as a crime. It is
certain that at Athens Demades obtained a verdict against one who sold
furniture for funerals, by proving that he had prayed for great gains,
which he could not obtain without the death of many persons. Yet it is
a stock question whether he was rightly found guilty. Perhaps he prayed,
not that he might sell his wares to many persons, but that he might sell
them dear, or that he might procure what he was going to sell, cheaply.
Since his business consisted of buying and selling, why should you
consider his prayer to apply to one branch of it only, although he made
profit from both? Besides this, you might find every one of his trade
guilty, for they all wish, that is, secretly pray, as he did. You might,
moreover, find a great part of the human race guilty, for who is there
who does not profit by his neighbour's wants? A soldier, if he wishes
for glory, must wish for war; the farmer profits by corn being dear;
a large number of litigants raises the price of forensic eloquence;
physicians make money by a sickly season; dealers in luxuries are
made rich by the effeminacy of youth; suppose that no storms and no
conflagrations injured our dwellings, the builder's trade would be at a
standstill. The prayer of one man was detected, but it was just like the
prayers of all other men. Do you imagine that Arruntius and Haterius,
and all other professional legacy-hunters do not put up the same prayers
as undertakers and grave-diggers? though the latter know not whose death
it is that they wish for, while the former wish for the death of their
dearest friends, from whom, on account of their intimacy, they have most
hopes of inheriting a fortune. No one's life does the undertaker any
harm, whereas these men starve if their friends are long about dying;
they do not, therefore, merely wish for their deaths in order that they
may receive what they have earned by a disgraceful servitude, but in
order that they may be set free from a heavy tax. There can, therefore,
be no doubt that such persons repeat with even greater earnestness the
prayer for which the undertaker was condemned, for whoever is likely to
profit such men by dying, does them an injury by living. Yet the wishes
of all these are alike well known and unpunished. Lastly, let every man
examine his own self, let him look into the secret thoughts of his heart
and consider what it is that he silently hopes for; how many of his
prayers he would blush to acknowledge, even to himself; how few there
are which we could repeat in the presence of witnesses!
XXXIX. Yet we must not condemn every thing which we find worthy of
blame, as, for instance, this wish about our friends which we have been
discussing, arises from a misdirected feeling of affection, and falls
into the very error which it strives to avoid, for the man is ungrateful
at the very time when he hurries to prove his gratitude. He prays aloud,
"May he fall into my power, may he need my influence, may not be able
to be safe and respectable without my aid, may he be so unfortunate that
whatever return I make to him may be regarded as a benefit." To the
gods alone he adds, "May domestic treasons encompass him, which can be
quelled by me alone; may some powerful and virulent enemy, some excited
and armed mob, assail him; may he be set upon by a creditor or an
informer."
XL. See, how just you are; you would never have wished any of these
misfortunes to befall him, if he had not bestowed a benefit upon you.
Not to speak of the graver guilt which you incur by returning evil for
good, you distinctly do wrong in not waiting for the fitting time for
each action, for it is as wrong to anticipate this as it is not to take
it when it comes. A benefit ought not always to be accepted, and ought
not in all cases to be returned. If you were to return it to me against
my will, you would be ungrateful, how much more ungrateful are you, if
you force me to wish for it? Wait patiently; why are you unwilling to
let my bounty abide with you? Why do you chafe at being laid under an
obligation? why, as though you were dealing with a harsh usurer, are you
in such a hurry to sign and seal an equivalent bond? Why do you wish me
to get into trouble? Why do you call upon the gods to ruin me? If this
is your way of returning a kindness, what would you do if you were
exacting repayment of a debt?
XLI. Above all, therefore, my Liberalis, let us learn to live calmly
under an obligation to others, and watch for opportunities of repaying
our debt without manufacturing them. Let us remember that this
anxiety to seize the first opportunity of setting ourselves free shows
ingratitude; for no one repays with good will that which he is unwilling
to owe, and his eagerness to get it out of his hands shows that he
regards it as a burden rather than as a favour. How much better and more
righteous is it to bear in mind what we owe to our friends, and to offer
repayment, not to obtrude it, nor to think ourselves too much indebted;
because a benefit is a common bond which connects two persons. Say "I do
not delay to repay your kindness to me; I hope that you will accept my
gratitude cheerfully. If irresistible fate hangs over either of us, and
destiny rules either that you must receive your benefit back again, or
that I must receive a second benefit, why then, of us two, let him give
that was wont to give. I am ready to receive it.
"'Tis not the part of Turnus to delay."
That is the spirit which I shall show whenever the time comes; in the
meanwhile the gods shall be my witnesses.
XLII. I have noted in you, my Liberalis, and as it were touched with my
hand a feeling of fussy anxiety not to be behindhand in doing what is
your duty. This anxiety is not suitable to a grateful mind, which,
on the contrary, produces the utmost confidence in oneself, and which
drives away all trouble by the consciousness of real affection towards
one's benefactor. To say "Take back what you gave me," is no less
a reproach than to say "You are in my debt." Let this be the first
privilege of a benefit, that he who bestowed it may choose the time when
he will have it returned. "But I fear that men may speak ill of me." You
do wrong if you are grateful only for the sake of your reputation, and
not to satisfy your conscience. You have in this matter two judges, your
benefactor, whom you ought not, and yourself, whom you cannot deceive.
"But," say you, "if no occasion of repayment offers, am I always to
remain in his debt?" Yes; but you should do so openly, and willingly,
and should view with great pleasure what he has entrusted to you. If you
are vexed at not having yet returned a benefit, you must be sorry that
you ever received it; but if he deserved that you should receive a
benefit from him, why should he not deserve that you should long remain
in his debt?
XLIII. Those persons are much mistaken who regard it as a proof of a
great mind to make offers to give, and to fill many men's pockets and
houses with their presents, for sometimes these are due not to a great
mind, but to a great fortune; they do not know how far more great and
more difficult it sometimes is to receive than to lavish gifts. I must
disparage neither act; it is as proper to a noble heart to owe as to
receive, for both are of equal value when done virtuously; indeed, to
owe is the more difficult, because it requires more pains to keep a
thing safe than to give it away. We ought not therefore to be in a hurry
to repay, nor need we seek to do so out of due season, for to hasten to