L. Annaeus Seneca on Benefits
his life wearing slippers, he must needs push his shoes into a senator's
face.
XIII. O pride, the silliest fault of great good fortune! how pleasant
it is to take nothing from thee! how dost thou turn all benefits into
outrages! how dost thou delight in all excess! how ill all things become
thee! The higher thou risest the lower thou art, and provest that
the good things by which thou art so puffed up profit thee not; thou
spoilest all that thou givest. It is worth while to inquire why it is
that pride thus swaggers and changes the form and appearance of her
countenance, so that she prefers a mask to her own face. It is pleasant
to receive gifts when they are conferred in a kindly and gentle manner,
when a superior in giving them does not exalt himself over me, but shows
as much good feeling as possible, placing himself on a level with me,
giving without parade, and choosing a time when I am glad of his help,
rather than waiting till I am in the bitterest need. The only way by
which you can prevail upon proud men not to spoil their gifts by their
arrogance is by proving to them that benefits do not appear greater
because they are bestowed with great pomp and circumstance; that no one
will think them greater men for so doing, and that excessive pride is a
mere delusion which leads men to hate even what they ought to love.
XIV. There are some things which injure those who receive them, things
which it is not a benefit to give but to withhold; we should therefore
consider the usefulness of our gift rather than the wish of the
petitioner to receive it; for we often long for hurtful things, and are
unable to discern how ruinous they are, because our judgment is biassed
by our feelings; when, however, the longing is past, when that frenzied
impulse which masters our good sense has passed away, we abhor those
who have given us hurtful gifts. As we refuse cold water to the sick,
or swords to the grief-stricken or remorseful, and take from the insane
whatever they might in their delirium use to their own destruction, so
must we persist in refusing to give anything whatever that is hurtful,
although our friends earnestly and humbly, nay, sometimes even most
piteously beg for it. We ought to look at the end of our benefits as
well as the beginning, and not merely to give what men are glad to
receive, but what they will hereafter be glad to have received. There
are many who say, "I know that this will do him no good, but what am I
to do? he begs for it, I cannot withstand his entreaties. Let him see
to it; he will blame himself, not me." Not so: you he will blame, and
deservedly; when he comes to his right mind, when the frenzy which
now excites him has left him, how can he help hating the man who has
assisted him to harm and to endanger himself? It is a cruel kindness to
allow one's self to be won over into granting that which injures those
who beg for it. Just as it is the noblest of acts to save men from harm
against their will, so it is but hatred, under the mask of civility, to
grant what is harmful to those who ask for it. Let us confer benefits of
such a kind, that the more they are made use of the better they please,
and which never can turn into injuries. I never will give money to a man
if I know that he will pay it to an adulteress, nor will I be found in
connexion with any wicked act or plan; if possible, I will restrain men
from crime; if not, at least I will never assist them in it. Whether my
friend be driven into doing wrong by anger, or seduced from the path of
safety by the heat of ambition, he shall never gain the means of doing
mischief except from himself, nor will I enable him one day to say,
"He ruined me out of love for me." Our friends often give us what our
enemies wish us to receive; we are driven by the unseasonable fondness
of the former into the ruin which the latter hope will befall us. Yet,
often as it is the case, what can be more shameful than that there
should be no difference between a benefit and hatred?
XV. Let us never bestow gifts which may recoil upon us to our shame.
As the sum total of friendship consists in making our friends equal to
ourselves, we ought to consider the interests of both parties; I must
give to him that wants, yet so that I do not want myself; I must help
him who is perishing, yet so that I do not perish myself, unless by so
doing I can save a great man or a great cause. I must give no benefit
which it would disgrace me to ask for. I ought not to make a small
benefit appear a great one, nor allow great benefits to be regarded as
small; for although it destroys all feeling of gratitude to treat what
you give like a creditor, yet you do not reproach a man, but merely
set off your gift to the best advantage by letting him know what it is
worth. Every man must consider what his resources and powers are, so
that we may not give either more or less than we are able. We must also
consider the character and position of the person to whom we give, for
some men are too great to give small gifts, while others are too small
to receive great ones. Compare, therefore, the character both of the
giver and the receiver, and weigh that which you give between the two,
taking care that what is given be neither too burdensome nor too trivial
for the one to give, nor yet such as the receiver will either treat with
disdain as too small, or think too great for him to deal with.
XVI. Alexander, who was of unsound mind, and always full of magnificent
ideas, presented somebody with a city. When the man to whom he gave it
had reflected upon the scope of his own powers, he wished to avoid the
jealousy which so great a present would excite, saying that the gift did
not suit a man of his position. "I do not ask," replied Alexander, "what
is becoming for you to receive, but what is becoming for me to give."
This seems a spirited and kingly speech, yet really it is a most foolish
one. Nothing is by itself a becoming gift for any one: all depends upon
who gives it, to whom he gives it, when, for what reason, where, and
so forth, without which details it is impossible to argue about it.
Inflated creature! if it did not become him to receive this gift, it
could not become thee to give it. There should be a proportion between
men's characters and the offices which they fill; and as virtue in all
cases should be our measure, he who gives too much acts as wrongly as he
who gives too little. Even granting that fortune has raised you so high,
that, where other men give cups, you give cities (which it would show a
greater mind in you not to take than to take and squander), still there
must be some of your friends who are not strong enough to put a city in
their pockets.
XVII. A certain cynic asked Antigonus for a talent. Antigonus answered
that this was too much for a cynic to ask for. After this rebuff he
asked for a penny. Antigonus answered that this was too little for a
king to give. "This kind of hair-splitting" (you say) "is contemptible:
he found the means of giving neither. In the matter of the penny he
thought of the king, in that of the talent he thought of the cynic,
whereas with respect to the cynic it would have been right to receive
the penny, with respect to the king it would have been right to give the
talent. Though there may be things which are too great for a cynic to
receive, yet nothing is so small, that it does not become a gracious
king to bestow it." If you ask me, I applaud Antigonus; for it is not to
be endured that a man who despises money should ask for it. Your cynic
has publicly proclaimed his hatred of money, and assumed the character
of one who despises it: let him act up to his professions. It is most
inconsistent for him to earn money by glorifying his poverty. I wish
to use Chrysippus's simile of the game of ball, in which the ball must
certainly fall by the fault either of the thrower or of the catcher; it
only holds its course when it passes between the hands of two persons
who each throw it and catch it suitably. It is necessary, however, for a
good player to send the ball in one way to a comrade at a long distance,
and in another to one at a short distance. So it is with a benefit:
unless it be suitable both for the giver and the receiver, it will
neither leave the one nor reach the other as it ought. If we have to
do with a practised and skilled player, we shall throw the ball more
recklessly, for however it may come, that quick and agile hand will send
it back again; if we are playing with an unskilled novice, we shall not
throw it so hard, but far more gently, guiding it straight into his very
hands, and we shall run to meet it when it returns to us. This is just
what we ought to do in conferring benefits; let us teach some men how to
do so, and be satisfied if they attempt it, if they have the courage and
the will to do so. For the most part, however, we make men ungrateful,
and encourage them, to be so, as if our benefits were only great when
we cannot receive any gratitude for them; just as some spiteful
ball-players purposely put out their companion, of course to the ruin of
the game, which cannot be carried on without entire agreement Many men
are of so depraved a nature that they had rather lose the presents which
they make than be thought to have received a return for them, because
they are proud, and like to lay people under obligations: yet how much
better and more kindly would it be if they tried to enable the others
also to perform their parts, if they encouraged them in returning
gratitude, put the best construction upon all their acts, received one
who wished to thank them just as cordially as if he came to repay what
he had received, and easily lent themselves to the belief that those
whom they have laid under an obligation wish to repay it. We blame
usurers equally when they press harshly for payment, and when they delay
and make difficulties about taking back the money which they have lent;
in the same way, it is just as right that a benefit should be returned,
as it is wrong to ask any one to return it. The best man is he who gives
readily, never asks for any return, and is delighted when the return
is made, because, having really and truly forgotten what he gave, he
receives it as though it were a present.
XVIII. Some men not only give, but even receive benefit haughtily, a
mistake into which we ought not to fall: for now let us cross over to
the other side of the subject, and consider how men should behave when
they receive benefits. Every function which is performed by two persons
makes equal demands upon both: after you have considered what a father
ought to be, you will perceive that there remains an equal task, that
of considering what a son ought to be: a husband has certain duties,
but those of a wife are no less important. Each of these give and take
equally, and each require a similar rule of life, which, as Hecaton
observes, is hard to follow: indeed, it is difficult for us to attain
to virtue, or even to anything that comes near virtue: for we ought not
only to act virtuously but to do so upon principle. We ought to follow
this guide throughout our lives, and to do everything great and small
according to its dictates: according as virtue prompts us we ought both
to give and to receive. Now she will declare at the outset that we ought
not to receive benefits from every man. "From whom, then, ought we to
receive them?" To answer you briefly, I should say, from those to whom
we have given them. Let us consider whether we ought not to be even more
careful in choosing to whom we should owe than to whom we should give.
For even supposing that no unpleasantness should result (and very much
always does), still it is a great misery to be indebted to a man to whom